Harry Potter was heading down into the Slytherin Dungeons. It wasn't a schoolday, so he'd slipped on a muggle shirt and pants under the robes. He quite honestly felt bad about how much he'd ruined that Slytherin chit's life, but he wasn't going to think about that right now.

No, right now he was going to concentrate on Feelin' Bad.

Specifically - Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know.

He knew the faces he was looking for, and he knew that it would be hard to find them.

But Harry'd had a lot of experience waiting, and nearly endless patience.

Besides, if you looked enough like a wolf, predators left you the fuck alone.

Harry'd taught that dog a lesson when he was four, and it stuck with him.

Didn't stop Dudley from trying to beat him - or Harry from fleeing.

That was family, and you couldn't exactly run from family. Well, keep running, anyway. Harry knew he could have put the fear of dog into Dudley at any point. But his Aunt and Uncle woulda just taken away... well, more things than they already had. He might have got a collar and a doghouse to live in. Wouldn't that be fun? The Dog-Boy of Privet Drive?

But here? With Slytherins?

Shooting apples in a barrel.

All he had to do was look Warrington in the eye, and smirk... which he did, finding Warrington holding the arm of one of the Carrow sisters. Warrington paled, flushed and pulled the mediocre girl on quickly, despite her protests.

And then, well, he needed to find Cassie Crane. She was the other leader, but a smirk wasn't going to do for her. No, he shadowed her, waiting until she was in a darker hallway, and then he was on top of her, his soft footsteps turning into a bumrush - his shoulder quite literally hitting her bum. She hit facefirst, with a crack that he'd later learn was her jaw.

She rolled, reaching for her wand, to find Harry Potter standing over her, straddling her. And smirking.

"Remember me fondly," Harry said, walking away with a smirk on his face. Unbeknownst to either of them, the Bloody Baron was listening, the corners of his lips turned upward.

/||/|/

Snape was incensed. He'd assigned the Potter boy another detention, but there was no one waiting for him afterwards. It seemed... it seemed like his proud House was inhabited by fools. Fools who thought Potter had been responsible for The Incident. Inside himself, Despite Himself, Snape felt the "what if" question rearing its foul head, but he squelched it with a series of precisely sharp blows.

1) It was Potter, the boy who was a showboat at the best of times. If he'd done it, everyone in Gryffindor would know, and few of those knew how to keep their mouths shut.

2) The boy hadn't shown the least concept of subtlety, and Snape watched all his first years as a matter of habit. Often there was a Hufflepuff or two with potential, that properly nourished might amount to something. Not that Snape could be seen ...

3) The talentless brat hadn't shown the least amount of proficiency in his class, despite his obvious ability to follow directions in detention.

No, it was patently ridiculous.

And yet the students stayed stubbornly away.

Perhaps he should try a Weasley?

Or just bring down the boom on the lot, come what may?

[a/n: Snape's always a few steps ahead. Review please!]