Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any related thematic elements by JK Rowling. I also do not own West Side Story- conception by Jerome Robbins, book by Arthur Laurents, music by Leonard Bernstein, and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim.

West Side Story

PROLOGUE

In the eyes of a professor, the lives of the Slytherins were simple. They would study, play quidditch, socialize amongst each other, and maybe cause the occasional ruffle with a Gryffindor. In fact, it was nearly comical to them how little effort these students seemed to put into the quality of their lives—how they never showed any interest in things. They wondered how they could stand never taking the time to try and bridge the never-ending divide that separated them from the Gryffindors.

But the professors were terribly, horribly wrong.

In the eyes of the Slytherins, nothing was simple. There was a constant struggle of hierarchy in which every one of them would always strive to be the top of. It was unending. And their riff with the Gryffindors? Not a game, it was serious.

At the current top of the Slytherin pecking order stood Blaise Zabini, a clever and witty beauty. Her placement had not come easily however; it was something she'd had to work at. Despite her good looks, it had seemed that nobody would have ever been able to conquer the most wealthy boy in school—Draco Malfoy. Yet she had put her mind to the task, and steadily climbed the ladder.

Blaise had even gone as far as to date Draco. They had easily been the most enviable couple in the school for a while, both with good looks, blood, and family backgrounds. That was until the famous Harry Potter, Wonder Boy, had been snatched by elegant Lavender Brown, and this had all happened in the first two whirlwind months of their sixth year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

But during these two months, Blaise had also noticed that something about Draco Malfoy had changed. His cutting edge had been dulled significantly, probably due to the fact that his father had been locked up in the Wizarding prison, Azkaban. His father had been the key to his pride. He'd taught him everything he knew from how to walk to how to direct a stinging comment at somebody just where it would hurt the most. But now, he had been more reserved, choosing to not participate in the normal everyday arguments with the Gryffindors. He almost looked defeated at times.

And so Blaise had dumped him. It wasn't that she didn't like him anymore, but she was a true Slytherin. If he was going to start going all soft because of his father, then it was for the best. After all, she had already achieved high status among their crowd, and they would still remain friends.

ACT I SCENE I

It was a bright Friday afternoon, and Blaise was sitting down at her usual Potions table, surrounded by a few Slytherin cronies. It was about fifteen minutes before class was to start, and they had the entire classroom to themselves. They liked being able to discuss the days happenings and their intense dislike for whatever the Gryffindors had done or said during it.

At the moment, they were engaged in a particularly heated discussion about the over eccentric-ness of Harry Potter, when Professor Snape finally ambled in. Malcolm Baddock had been standing up doing a silly impression, while the others were howling with laughter.

"Knock it off," Professor Snape said sternly, eyeing the students menacingly before depositing his bag on his desk and then scrambling into his ingredients laboratory.

"Charmed," said Blaise, mockingly saluting him while his back was turned.

Snape poked his greasy head back out of the lab. "Your immature rivalry with the Gryffindors is getting old, even if I can agree with you on some of your points. Don't make me have to take off points, now," he barked, and looked at them as if they were bats out of hell. He then walked out of the lab with a large vial of a ghastly green fluid, and a house elf. This house elf was hired by Professor Snape to keep watch over the potions ingredients, for it had been becoming a regular occurrence that a student would sneak in and take something, despite all his previous efforts.

The house elf spoke up. "Me is thinking that the Slytherins should put up with them Gryffindors, like I have to. Or I'll pour the burning zest potion down your backs while you's is sleeping!" he shouted emotionally in a high voice, shaking tiny fists.

The Slytherins all stifled their laughs, for it was obvious that Snape had hand picked the elf to agree with and enforce everything he said. Typical.

Snape nudged the elf's back with his knee, forcing him forward towards the door. "Keep out of trouble," he said curtly to the students, "I need a word with professor sprout, urgent business." With that he strode out of the room, elf scurrying in front of him.

Blaise turned back to her friends, arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, and said "Well...they'd make a nice couple, eh?" Her comment was received by renewed howls of laughter. "Keep out of trouble," she imitated Snape in a sour nagging voice.

"Knock it off," added Pansy, also mocking him.

"Clean that up right now!"

"Stay out of my office!"

"Don't you dare say that to me!"

"Shut up about the bloody Gryffindors!"

"Oh, isn't my hair just so wonderfully soft and volumized?" jeered Blaise lastly, and they were all too overcome by laughs and giggles to carry on.

"Hey, Terence, what's that on your arm?" Pansy asked. "Is that a boil?"

"Aww, no, it's nothing," Terence said, jerking his sleeve down over his arm.

"It is a boil!" interjected Blaise. "The Gryffindors got you again, didn't they?" It was nearly a daily occurrence now that they would pick on at least one of the Slytherins while they weren't looking.

"I'm a casual, Blaise," he said laughing.

"Yeah, that makes you a Gryffindor harlot! Ha!" shouted Adrian Pucey.

"Shut it, Adrian. Which one of them did it?" Blaise asked.

"Weasley," he said. "I heard him talking about getting us back for stink- beetling their common room." He imitated the gesture that Ron had made towards him.

"Jesus Christ," said Goyle.

"That's nothing," Malcolm interjected. "They're the reason Snape, our only good professor, acts like he's got a wand shoved up his rear all the time!"

"Who says?" Blaise jeered.

"Come on, it's obvious," he said.

"Snape would act like that any day, Malcolm. It's not just the Gryffindors," Blaise said, although in no way was she defending the Gryffindors, she only hated Snape with a passion. It seemed to her that he was not only biased and enjoyed picking favorites, but he was also sexist, and treated her just like a Gryffindor. She despised that.

"Yeah, Blaise," said Goyle. "My father says that those dirty half-breed Gryffindors are ruining the entire school. They drive Snape mad! And what're we doing about it?"

Narcissa Zabini, the younger sister of Blaise, decided to pipe up at that moment. "We're bugging out! All we do is complain! Come on, we've gotta—"

"What're you still doing here?" Malcolm interrupted. Narcissa was only a fourth year, and most of the Slytherins tended to shun her. It had been her biggest hope to be part of the popular group, but she could never seem to make it. She wasn't like her sister Blaise, tall, slender, and beautiful, but she was more boyish, desperate to get involved in every fight and bicker.

"Did you see what I did last night to that Patil whore? I hexed her green! Come on, Blaise, I was ruddy brilliant!"

"Shove it, Narcissa," Blaise threatened.

"But..." she persisted. "I was awesome! How about you let me get in the crew, really, I—"

Terence spoke up. "How about the crew getting in..?" he mocked, making a rude gesture. The Slytherins began to snigger with mirth. "Nah, who'd want to?"

"You snarky bastard!" Narcissa yelled, and pulled out her wand, enraged. She got out of her chair and lunged towards Terence, ready to curse him. Blaise instantly got up after her, and ran over to her side, holding her back.

"Leave, or I'll owl Mum. Again," Blaise hissed in her ear.

Narcissa scowled, and stomped away towards the front of the classroom, far away from the rest of the group. She made sure, however, to pretend to bite her thumb viciously in an attempt to scoff them. The Slytherins only laughed.

Blaise, smoothing out her short skirt, returned back to her seat and sat down, daintily crossing her legs. "Listen, guys," she said. "Goyle was right, I guess. The Gryffindors are taking the school and making us look like fools! Before we know it, they'll be running it, I'm sure!"

"Dirt," said Terence with dark satisfaction. "Half of them are mudbloods, too."

"Exactly," said Blaise. "So what do we do about it? Are we just going to let them ruin everything we've got?"

"Hell, no!" Malcolm yelled.

"We're going to get rid of them, guys," said Blaise vehemently.

"Like...a duel?" asked Malcolm.

"Yes. A duel. My father taught me this...hex, and it'll be sure to get them. It's called primordium, and it looks like just a simple freezing spell, but it's not."

"What do you mean? How long does it last?"

"Forever."

"But think about it. Most of the Gryffindors are trolls, but some of them are brainy. One of them'll come up with a way to get us, too. What if they want to use unforgivables?" Malcolm was always thinking ahead.

"Unforgivables?" Goyle said, looking frightened and letting his pansy side show for a second.

"I'm only saying maybe...it was just a thought. Not definitely," said Malcolm.

"So what do you think?" Blaise demanded.

"Brilliant," said Terence.

"But if they want to use the unforgivables?" Goyle asked.

"Then forget it," said Malcolm. "We'll have to think of something else."

"What do you think, Blaise?" Crabbe asked.

"Hogwarts is probably one of the only places where we stand tall, and I'm not going to lose it," said Blaise passionately. "If they want to use unforgivables, hey, I'll learn the unforgivables. We're going to win."

Terence began to clap jokingly. "Beautiful speech, darling," he said, wiping an imaginary tear from his cheek.

Blaise shot him a look, telling him to be serious. "We duel," she said. "But we're civilized, us Slytherins. The same...I wouldn't say for the Gryffindors. Nevertheless, we need to have some sort of date, a...pre-duel conference to...you know, decide."

"Decide what...?" Crabbe asked.

Blaise looked annoyed. "Decide on rules! We need to know what we're going to forbid, like whether or not we'll allow unforgivables. I'll tell the Weasel, he'll never be able to back down. Also, we need somebody to be in charge, to help plan things."

"That'll be me," Malcolm said.

"No, nitwit," said Blaise, "That'll be Draco." Despite the fact that he had been letting most of the Slytherins down lately, Blaise still held a lot of respect for him. He was good when he was in charge.

"Are you kidding me? Malfoy practically isn't a Slytherin anymore! Just look at him...he's losing it!" Malcolm yelled.

"Shut up, Malcolm. Draco and I are the best in the house, and you can't deny it, can you? And we don't only need everyone we can get; we need the best we can get. Give it time, guys."

"I haven't even talked to him in over a month," said Goyle. "He acts like he doesn't give half a hippogriff's ass about us."

"And what about that day when he told Potter off when he spilled his ink? Potter almost turned green. Was he a disgrace to the Slytherins then?" Blaise asked.

The rest of them shook their heads.

"Whatever," said Malcolm.

"Draco is a Slytherin, and once you're a Slytherin, you're always a Slytherin. He'll always have us, no matter what," Blaise said.

"Damn, Blaise, you're all sentimental today, huh?"

Blaise kicked Terence under the table with her pointed shoes. Hard.

"Ouch!" he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Question," interrupted Crabbe. "When and where are you going to talk to Weasley? He's usually not within a yard of us unless his fist is there first."

"You," Blaise declared, "are an idiot. At the dance in the Great Hall tonight! Where have you been?"

"But the Great Hall is supposed to be a 'Wizarding Common Ground,' remember? We can't start a fight there!"

"Did I say I was going to start a fight?" Blaise said, answering his inquiry with another question.

"Er...no," Crabbe said stupidly.

"So all of you'd better be there tonight," said Blaise. "Look your best."

"We'll meet you while you negotiate?"

"Exactly. And don't make fools of yourselves," she said, eyeing Crabbe and Goyle specifically. They slumped in their chairs.

"We never make fools of ourselves," said Terence. "We're Slytherins!"

"The real wizards," said Malcolm.

"And witches, moron," said Blaise.

"Right. Witches."

......................................................

A/N: So...twidles thumbs...perhaps you've noticed that Blaise is, in fact, a girl in my story. That is a mistake on my part, but since I wrote the entire story before we all found out that Blaise is, in fact, a boy in the books, I couldn't go back and change it. Oh dear, please forgive me.