Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

A/N: Hello people!

I am back, with another chapter to boot. It's a little shorter, but has quite a bit of action. It is also the start of his plan for the wizarding world

On a side note, please review! I have had over 740 people visit this story (Thanks BTW), and yet I have a measly 8 reviews. I mean, come on! I can't tailor the story to the readers if the readers don't review!

Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 5: Fall of an Old Order

The ten first years - Harry, Draco, Pansy, Tracey, Daphne, Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, Bulstrode and Nott) followed the two prefects - Marcus Flint and Peregrine Derrick - to the common room, tucked away in the dungeons. On the journey however, Draco and Daphne saw Harry covertly place a small vial into his pocket. It appeared to be empty, and there had been no such vials at dinner, but Harry remained tight lipped about the whole thing. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge their questions, posing new ones instead. He asked what they thought it would be like, and why the school needed dungeons in the first place. The girls were of the opinion that it was probably a fortress first, though they believed it may have been Camelot. Due to his extensive knowledge through reading, however, knew the final bit to be completely wrong - Camelot had been in Caerleon, South Wales.

The common room was a marvellous room in greens and silvers, with dark pine floor boards and pillars. It was peaceful, and held an air of cunning. That peace was ruined however, when the older years formed a tightly packed ring around the students. Crabbe and Goyle, whom he now knew to be Vincent and Gregory, began to panic, and the girls looked shocked and started to back into the centre of the ring. Even Draco seemed a bit nervous, surrounded by physically stronger students.

'Alright, ickle firsties,' Flint sneered. 'Let's get this sorted. There's an order here. For appearances, we follow the teachers. But in here, you follow me. I'm the oldest, and the strongest. I'm a pureblood, and I'm rich. It don't matter that you, Nott, or you Greengrass are richer than me, and I don't care that I ain't an Ancient house. An' I certainly don't care about your connections. An' Derrick's me deputy, followed by the rest of Seventh year. An' then it goes down in age, with the boss of each year being who ever I like.

But firsties don't get no boss, coz you're useless an' weak. So you follow us, right. Oh an' Potter?' He sneered the final word, leering towards Harry. 'You're the bo'em of the pile.' Inwardly, Harry smirked. This was going exactly to plan, if not better. Outside, of course, he kept his composure perfectly still, almost unresponsive.

'It don't matter who rich and famous you are, you stopped the Dark Lord, an' doomed us to them Mugg…' he trailed off, for it is quite difficult for many to rant in the face of someone who is the essence of calm. 'What you think you doin',' the boy sneered. 'You're too calm - maybe you're just an idio'!' Yeah, tha's it. I think you need it punched in'o you, righ' Derrick?'

'No, Flint, I'm not an 'Idiot',' Harry replied coolly. 'For starters, I am not the one who cannot even pronounce the words in their own rather limited lexicon.'

Draco face palmed. Now was not the time for his word games! For while Harry had never been particularly tall, or strong, he had a quick and sharp wit. But this isn't some adult, some politician! This is Flint! He's probably not even going to get that he is supposed to be insulted!

Indeed, it appeared that Draco was indeed correct, for Flint just stood there towering over Harry, with a confused look upon his face, thinking through his words. Harry just looked at him, and sighed. 'Is there anyone else with 'Superior Authority' that has brains beyond that of a Flobberworm?'

That Flint understood. He looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel, growing purple and aiming a fist at Harry. 'Why, you!'

Harry, however, caught him off guard once again, placing a finger to Marcus's lips. 'Shush, the proper Slytherins are speaking.' This once again confused Flint, as well as a few others that Flint had marked as 'better'. Taking the opportunity, Harry flicked his left hand away from Flint's face, now holding a small, card shaped object, made of a smooth, glittering black material. Flicking said hand down, the circle was engulfed in a cloud of fine black particles, completely and effectively blocking out any light.

Peruvian Instant Darkness, Draco thought. At some point, Harry must have fashioned it into a playing card, to be used in conjunction with Harry's sleight of hand tricks, a muggle party trick he seemed to have an obsession with.

Within the pitch black circle, the first years had curled up in the centre to avoid the chaos that ensued. The many students present (for there were around twenty five in the circle, with a good few circling around the ten new Slytherin students) had immediately panicked, and had not had the simple idea to just walk backwards, and instead had begun tripping over one another in the emerging pandemonium.

As a desperate attempt, many voices cried out spells, with several shouts of Stupefy and Petrificus Totatalus, followed with brief flashes of red and blue targeted at where Harry had been standing, whizzing straight through. He had clearly moved. It was quickly ended, however, by an incantation from Harry.

'Ventus Circulem!' he cried, and a gust of wind spiralled around them, sucking in the powder, and sending it spiralling out of the window. Harry now stood at the base of the stairs, gripping a medium sized vial containing an acidic green liquid inside in one hand and his wand in the other.

Around the circle lay a mass of bodies, some petrified, some stunned, but just trapped under one another. One pile shook particularly strongly, and out burst Flint, looking murderous. He went for his wand, glaring at Harry. It was soon apparent in the delay drawing, however, for Harry pocketed his own wand, and flicked his hand up, holding a dark ebony wand, which Draco realised had been concealed in his sleeve.

'POTTER!' Marcus screamed, frothing at the mouth. He began to walk towards Harry, clenching his fists and raising his sleeves, purple in the mouth.

'First off,' Harry calmly replied, 'It's Potter-Malfoy. And secondly, I wouldn't come closer if I were you.' He gestured towards the vial in his hand

'And why not, runt?' Marcus snarled, obviously not taking the hint. 'I'm gonna come right over there, and beat the living daylights out of you!'

'Well,' Harry replied, sighing. 'I did warn you.' With that, he tossed the vial towards the ground, and a layer of sickly green fumes rolled out.

As he was closest, it reached Flint first, and he immediately doubled over, purple replaced with a sickly green. The fog slowly spread, hitting several other so-called 'superiors', before the smarter members of the house, along with the first years, started to back off, in an attempt to escape the toxic fumes. It was a futile attempt, however, and it quickly caught up with them, leaving all collapsing in its wake, going a pallid green colour. Well, all except five.

Harry, obviously, was standing, right as rain, but so were Draco, Daphne, Pansy and Tracey. Draco's shock obviously showed, for Harry tutted at him. 'Come on, Draco,' he said. 'You think I'd actually use that on you, and my new friends? I drugged you with the antidote earlier, and drank mine on the way - that was what was in the vial, by the way. I had hoped you wouldn't spot it, but I just wasn't quite quick enough.' He sounded disappointed.

'Anyway,' he resumed, 'Remember when I shook Daphne's hand? Well, I'd had the same vial grasped in my hand, and spiked your drinks with it, before returning it to my sleeve.'

'How?' Daphne cried out. 'You'd had your hand open the whole time, not even twitching!'

'Ah, it was elementary, my dear Greengrass.' To the puzzled looks he received (including from Draco) he gave an exasperated sigh. 'Sherlock Holmes? Anyone? No? Ah, forget it. Anyway, it was Sleight of Hand!'

'Alright,' Draco grumbled. 'It's not just some useless party trick after all.' He looked up at Harry. 'What did you do to them, Harry? It's not any potion I know of.'

'That, my dear Brother, is because it is an invention of mine,' Harry replied smugly. 'Ever since my plan was forged, I have been working on the trickier side of things. That is why I have been looking at Sleight of Hand, too. There are so many applications for that!' He said excitedly.

'Getting back on track, however, Potions is one such subtle trick. Most Potions are either poisons or just boosts, right?' He got nods to that. 'Well, I realised there was a possible application of Battle Potions. Like, potions you throw, and they blow up, or that cause an effect to a large area. But there are none like that! So I looked at Potion theory, and made my own! Of course, I needed to specially design the vials and experiment a lot, but how useful they are! You've seen what just one can do.'

'Okay, okay,' Draco said. 'Say I'm to believe you made it yourself. How has no-one thought of it before?'

Harry looked a bit miffed. 'I did make it myself! I have a journal full of my trials and recipes! As for the question, they are harder than most potions, I suppose, but the main reason is because most wizards use curses, or hexes. I, however, want to be subtly powerful, thus necessitating the need for alternative sources of power, such as my potions.'

Here, he began to go off topic again, distracted by his achievements. 'Another thing I looked at was Spell Theory and Arithmancy. Basically, if I can focus hard enough on Latin words to do with what I want it to do, tweaked a bit to be magically stable, I can create spells! And see, like with Ventus Circulem, no one would know what it would do until it was too late! I've got quite a lot, now, written down in my journal, like that one!'

Draco sighed. Harry was so easily distracted, so changeable. It was his main weakness, though to be fair, it was almost his only weakness. 'Harry,' he reminded. 'You still haven't said what you have done.'

Harry looked at him, stopping his ramble. 'Sorry,' he muttered to those present and not currently curled up. 'Right, so it's a potion I made called Vertigonus, which hasn't quite got all the kinks out. I don't know how long it lasts or if it has any side effects, but I do have a full antidote slash temporary immuniser. It cancels the side effects, too. The antidote only lasts as an immuniser for about an hour, so if I use it again I'd have to give it again.

'Sorry, rambling! Anyway, it creates an illusionary realm, where you are suspended high above the ground, with strange shapes morphing around, sort of like a kaleidoscope. No? No one? Forget it. Anyway, it also temporarily gives the victim vertigo, the fear of heights, and so the victim is suspended in a personal pit of fear and nausea. They can hear us, though.' As if prompted by the prior line of thought, he slapped his forehead, crying 'Darnit, the plan! Mustn't, forget the plan!' With that he dashed back over to the centre of the room.

Pansy turned to the other three witnesses. 'That's a little … disturbing, don't you think?'

Draco nodded. It was actually a little scary, knowing that his brother, a first year had created and used what was essentially a torture device. 'It is a little.'

'It's really impressive, too,' Daphne spoke up. 'Even I, being raised by two Potion Masters, cannot think of how he would put together such a concoction. It truly shows his power doesn't it.' It did, come to think of it. Perhaps that was his plan, to use the potion to show his superiority. It just didn't sound right. It didn't sound like Harry. Harry would suely realise they would want revenge when they wake up. 'Who was his tutor? For they must be good!'

'I'd say he's his own tutor, actually,' Draco replied. 'Mother taught us the basics of theory and technique, but I would never be able to brew such a concoction. I think he self taught.'

Harry stood on a chair he had pulled over, and called out to the incapacitated students. 'Slytherins! I think you can hear me. Well, I hope so, anyway.' That didn't sound reassuring.

'Potter,' Marcus groaned, sounding ready to throw up. The groan was echoed by several other students.

'Ah, good,' Harry said, sounding relieved. 'So, I'm going to negotiate the terms of your release.' Ignoring a couple groans of complaint, he continued. 'That, ladies and gentlemen, was a sample of my wide range of potions. It should suffice to show both my superior skill, knowledge and power, leading onto my point. I demand leadership of this house.

Now, I don't want complaints. I may not be physically the strongest, but brute strength is weak. It may be respected in Gryffindor, but we are Slytherins. We are proud of our heritage, we are proud of cunning, we respect power.

I am pureblood, raised in a respectable Family. I am set to inherit an Ancient and Noble Family. I have shown my cunning, with this carefully laid out plot. And now I show you power. I have power over you, right now.

I do not know how long this potion lasts, and I am willing to leave you under it. I know how to brew it and have several spares, and am perfectly capable of readministering to, ah, rebellious subjects. So, who is willing to surrender to me, respect the natural order?' There was a mixed cry, many calling 'yes', and many of those marked as 'superior' calling 'no', none so loudly as Flint himself.

'I heard a lot of yeses, and am now willing to release you. And do not worry, for those under me are not determined by who I like, but those with power, and connections. And not to mention, reliability. Like Draco, my new deputy, reliable, powerful. For he is a Firebender!'

At that Draco ignited his hands, before realising that none of those present could see, except the girls, and extinguished them with a grimace.

'So,' Harry continued, raising a vial full of an amber coloured liquid. 'I have the antidote in my hand, but first some precautions.' Here, he gripped Flint's wand, and it splintered with an audible crack. Flint whimpered, sensing the loss of the intimate connection between wizard and wand.

'Incarcerous!' Harry cried, and several ropes flew out of his own wand, binding those who had refused to bow down before their new master. Harry strolled over to the whimpering Flint, pulling him up, and then threw the vial at the ground. Unlike the previous vial, this fog consisted of a reassuring orange-yellow, billowing out from the cracked glass.

As it rolled over the incapacitated students, they would relax slightly, colour returning to their faces. Those not bound stood up cautiously, silent, awaiting further instruction from their new masters. Those in ropes started thrashing against them, mad with anger. But Flint just knelt, whimpering.

'So, my new subjects,' Harry said with a cold smile. 'I have just one last thing to show you, one last display of power for those still, ah, rebelling.' He closed his eyes, and slowly started turning a lime green colour, his lips leeching of colour. Opening his eyes, they were now pitch black, and his nose sank into his face.

He grinned a toothy grin, showing off two brilliant white fangs, with glands of black forking off. A thin black tongue darted out, forked and his head began to shrink. In fact, his whole body began to shrink, his clothes collapsing in upon himself, merging into his skin, turning the same lime green as his face. There, before their very eyes, Harry had turned into a lime green snake, encircling Flint.

'White-lipped Pit Viper,' Draco uttered. It was the snake Harry had been trying for weeks. He had finally got it.

A/N: Mwah ha ha ha! Evil cliffy!

Harry is showing his evil side for the first time, and has succeeded at his first transformation. Well done!

As mentioned in the previous chapter, I have a new story going up! The PJO/HP crossover is going up on Friday, with weekly updates.

Thank you for reading, and please review!

See you all next week, and some on Friday! By-ye!