I think you all will be very excited about this next (somewhat long) installment.
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Great Hall: September 1, 1995

At the very front of the hall was the staff table, nearly every chair filled- including one with a rather unwanted guest, seated to the immediate right of Professor Severus Snape. That unwanted guest would be correctly entitled 'Dolores Umbridge'. The new designation of a rather haughty ministry worker did absolutely nothing to lift the man's spirits. Once again, somebody had stepped up to take his rightful place as this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. The fact that it was a ministry employee only soured his mood even further.

As the returning students filed in, Dolores put on an encouraging smile and beamed out at the students. Severus slumped in his chair, silently taking note of his returning Slytherins. Malfoy's boy was there obviously, along with his usual troupe of Crabbe, Goyle, and the latest addition of Miss Parkinson. Dolores continued beaming out at the students, though she missed the dramatic act Malfoy put on of rather blatantly insulting her. At this he had to smirk. Draco was a git. But he was crafty, and entertaining to watch. "Well," Umbridge stated, not bothering to turn away from her business of startling the students with her obscure smiling, "while it is good to see that something is causing you joy, I do insist you control what I presume are your students."

The smirk vanished, leaving only the cold hard stare in his eyes. "If they've done anything wrong then I have yet to notice," Severus replied cooly, refusing to make eye contact with the woman. She was about to respond, but was cut off as the doors burst open revealing Professor McGonagall, immediately followed by this year's round of first years. The man smiled smugly to himself, as the scroll of names was unrolled and the sorting hat began its song.

By the time it finished, he was nearly bored out of his wits already and the actual sorting still had yet to take place. A man could only watch so many of these things. Professor McGonagall took her stance by the hat and read off the first name, "Atkins, Beatrice." A girl with dark, straight hair stepped out of the line and walked to the stool, an aura of confidence seeming to radiate from her. She sat on the stool, the hat barely touching her head before screaming out "SLYTHERIN!" in that rather obnoxious tone of its.

Severus clapped along with the others of his house as the girl hurried over to take her seat. "Atkins, Roxanna." McGonagall called. An identical girl to the one before her stepped up to the stool.

"Slytherin!" Great. He had twins to deal with. He would be keeping an eye on them, especially if they were anything like the Weasley boys. Just the thought made him shudder.

The sorting continued on as usual, boring. Severus clapped along with everyone else as each child was placed, only tuning in to listen as the occasional shouts of, "SLYTHERIN!" were made. Nearly half way through he slumped back in his chair, ready for this dreadful thing to be over. "Pierce, Ava." Professor McGonagall called. Severus froze. He looked up from his seat, struggling to achieve the same bored expression as before. How...? He counted back the years. No, it couldn't be. But there it was. Almost eleven already, and there was no denying it. That was his daughter.

He watched as she timidly pushed out from the crowd and walked towards the stool. She had her mother's eyes, brown and wide, like the eyes of a deer. And her mother's narrow face and small frame. But the hair, the hair was his- dark and pin straight, barely skimming over her shoulders. And... her nose. It was small and dainty looking, though crooked slightly, as though it had been broken and never healed quite right. His nose. That one distinguishing feature. And in that instance he felt all the need to tell her who he was, and how sorry he was for never being there. But of course, he couldn't do that.

Ava slid gracefully onto the stool, pushing off the floor with the tips of her toes. McGonagall held the hat on the girl's head, never quite letting go, for if she did it would slip down past her ears. The hat was on her head, and for the longest time they just sat there. She was up there longer than anyone else. Silence stabbed through the air like pins and needles, catching on each breath he took. The hat never took this long, never. Which only spoke one thing in the mind of Severus Snape- his daughter was arguing with the sorting hat. Silently, of course, but there was no other possible way for it to take as long as it did. Even Dumbledore seemed concerned by now. And after sitting for what seemed like an eternity, the hat spoke one word. "Gryffindor."