Theodore… really wished he felt more confident about this plan.

That his co-conspirator, Lisa Turpin, also lacked confidence in the plan didn't help.

Not that he expressed his nervousness. If he lacked confidence in his success, then he could definitely not let it show. The upper years would tear into them at the slightest sign of weakness. He kind of wanted to tell Lisa that he agreed with her, but, well, he really didn't want her to back out on him.

This would be so much easier if the Hat hadn't scrambled the sorting! If he could put together a united front of first years, then the older students would easily capitulate.

Alas, the Hat was insane, and he was stuck with several light families, and several notoriously stubborn grey families. And Turpin. At least Turpin was nice.

He'd have to thank her for putting up with this later.

Theodore walked into the common room. Seeing the smug expression on Smith's face didn't make him feel better about his odds.

Well, now or never.

Theo stepped into the centre of the room, and took a minute to ensure his voice wouldn't waver.

"Can I have everyone's attention for a moment?" Theo waited until the idle murmur of conversation died down. "Good, listen, with Malfoy going to Gryffindor and Snape leaving us be, Slytherin house lacks the united front that it has relied on for so long. Given the… oddities… surrounding the sorting, it's more vital than ever that Slytherin maintain itself against foes both within and without."

Well, that was the speech his father prepared. Now he just had to wait for the whole plan to go down in flames.

Flint and Selwyn moved closer to him… and that's it. No one else.

Damn, Theo didn't think that Smith would flex that much influence.

"Well," Smith stated, "what makes you think that you should be the one to dictate what Slytherin house should do? Perhaps this change is welcome for some of us? Perhaps some of us are tired of playing politics on our parent's behalf, citing rehearsed speeches, cozying up to people just for our parents' sake?"

Merlin, did Smith come up with this plan on his own? He probably wouldn't have taken a jab at the fact that Theo's speech wasn't his own, otherwise…

Then again, he could just be a hypocrite.

"Well, what would you know about Slytherin, Smith?" Theo retorted. "Your family has been Hufflepuff for generations. Perhaps you should leave the operation of this house to those who have legacies here."

"The Smith family has a far greater legacy that yours, Nott."

Theo found himself wishing he was sorted somewhere besides Slytherin. Stupid house and its stupid constant politics.

"But, perhaps a simple show of power would be fine? What say we duel, Nott? I win, we let the individuals of the house decide their own course, away from this 'united front' that everyone insists is so important. You win, and, well, I'll leave that to you."

Theo didn't trust that. But he also couldn't turn down the request without losing substantial face. Face, that… wouldn't really matter if he lost. Hopefully?

"Fine, I accept." Theo replied.

Time to see what Smith had planned.

Theo's wand was up in an instant.

"Contego! Somnium! Somnium!"

A foot and a half wide shield sprung up in front of Theo, followed by two invisible sleeping hexes. Hexes that Smith easily dodged before returning fire.

"Conscientia Arescentem!"

Of course Smith had to break out some convoluted spell that was probably family magic.

A huge white jet shot from the boy's wand, enveloping and shattering Theo's shield in an instant before hitting him full force.

Theo tried to return fire, but whatever that spell was had him fading fast.

Damn it.

Darkness claimed him.

He wasn't able to see Zacharias collapse moments later with a severe case of magical exhaustion.

Daphne sat on her bed, enjoying the silence, brief as it was destined to be.

She could never count on silence lasting, especially not when she shared a room with Tracey.

"Daph! Guess what!? Something amazing has happened!"

And there it was.

"What." Daphne replied flatly.

"Nott tried to make a power grab, and Smith stood up to him and bested him in a duel!"

"That's not too unexpected, save Smith being able to handle himself in a duel. I don't see how that's 'amazing', though."

"But that's not the interesting bit! Flint was pissed off since he was one of the only people who stood with Nott, and tried to hex Higgs when he laughed. Long story short, it's total anarchy out there!"

Oh dear Morrigan, if Tracey was talking in that tone, then it meant she had a scheme.

Daphne kissed her quiet time for the next week goodbye.

"C'mon! Let's go get in on the action!"

Okay, perhaps more than a week.

Harry idly thumbed through a book on wands.

It had nothing to do with his classes, of course, but it was very interesting nonetheless.

Learning how different woods imparted different affinities to their wands, and how the cores would impart different properties depending on what wood they were paired with.

It was the most interesting bit of magical theory that he'd found thus far.

Of course, he'd probably have to review it a lot to remember the book's contents. He wasn't Hermione, after all.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Hermione sat down next to him.

"You know," she started after unpacking her bag, "I think I hate Hogwarts sometimes."

Well that wasn't what he expected her to say.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" he replied.

"You know that one corridor in the dungeon?"

"You mean the really long, straight one that looks like it goes on forever? Of course I do. I should hope that every Slytherin would know about it, given its proximity to our common room."

"Harry, I walked down that corridor for half an hour. I don't think it has an end."

Harry shrugged. "Seems like the kind of stuff you'd find in a magical castle. Honestly, better an endless corridor than a bottomless pit."

Hermione sputtered in disbelief. "That's it? You just accept that this castle has a corridor which, to all observations, has no end!?"

"It's magic. Questioning it will only get us so far."

"I guess that explains why wizards lack common sense." Hermione mumbled, "But still, that's not the worst part of my story. I decided to look at some of the rooms around where I stopped. Most of them were just empty classrooms, but one of the doors took me to the grand staircase. On the twenty-sixth floor. No stairs, no passage, the door just opened up from the dungeon corridor to the grand staircase."

Harry paused. "Hogwarts has a twenty-sixth floor? How? The astronomy tower is the highest point in the castle, and we access it from the eighth floor."

Hermione began looking smug. "That's the thing. The astronomy tower is only the highest point from the outside of the castle. Just like how that corridor doesn't seem to have an end, the grand staircase doesn't seem to have a top. Even if none of those floors are visible on the castle exterior."

But if… How…?

"I think," Harry said finally, "that I feel a headache coming on."

"Good, now you know how I've been feeling since I found out."

"Professor Snape, please open up!" a female voice pleaded from outside his quarters.

Severus specifically recalled telling his prefects that unless someone was dying, he was not to be bothered.

So either someone was dying, or his orders were being ignored. Neither one boded well for his mood.

His lips curling in disgust, Severus opened the door to see one of his fifth year prefects.

"Miss Farley," he drawled, "who is dying?"

"Well, uh," she fidgeted under his gaze, "no one, sir, but-"

"I believe I said that 'I am not to be bothered about internal Slytherin house affairs barring someone's inevitable death', did I not?"

"Well, you did, but-"

"If no one is in immediate danger of dying, then I trust you to solve the problem with the other prefects. Now leave before I drown your spare time in detentions."

"But professor! Two weeks ago, Nott made a power play, and Smith stopped him and now the whole house is total anar-"

"I don't care what petty politics the students are playing on their parent's behalf! Leave! Now!"

Severus slammed the door shut and silenced it for good measure. Honestly, just what made her think that this was an appropriate excuse to get him involved.

Parvati watched the ongoing mayhem from the edge of the common room. She was honestly impressed at how quickly the common room had gone from "hanging out location" to "open warfare zone".

Parvati didn't care about the actual events of the constant duels and battles. She was just interested in who was attacking whom. It was a great source of gossip. Apparently, lots of Slytherins were nursing grudges, and taking advantage of the chaos to attack the targets of their ire. If she'd known she'd be getting this much juicy gossip, she'd have been dying to get put in Slytherin house.

Much to her surprise, the fighting never left the common room. Even Potter and Granger, the house's two biggest outcasts, were still sticking together with the other snakes, though they never had any kind words to exchange with anyone but each other. Slytherin was still holding on to its typical "united front" facade, though the facade's cracks were becoming increasingly visible to outsiders.

She did still have homework she needed to do, though, so, much as Parvati would like to stay and watch the chaos for a while, she decided to grab her books and headed up to her dorm. She did miss being able to study in the common room, but it was hardly a good idea to get lost in a book when one was liable to get hit by a stray spell.

"Turpin." she addressed her roommate as she entered their dorm.

"Patil." the other girl responded in reply. "Enjoying the mayhem?"

Parvati shrugged. "It's been informative if nothing else."

Turpin's eyes narrowed. "Informative how?"

"There's a lot you can learn from who's attacking whom. From there, it's a simple matter of listening in to determine motive. For example, did you know that Higgs, Warrington, and Pucey all hated Flint's leadership of the Quidditch team? They think his decision to push the boundaries of the rules with his brutal playstyle is harming their odds of being able to play professionally."

"That's… interesting. …So what are you playing at?"

"Huh?" Parvati reeled.

"I don't buy that you shared that information out of the good of your heart. What do you want in exchange?"

Parvati's brain ground to a halt as she processed the implications of what Turpin had just told her.

Parvati had always considered gossip to be its own reward. After all, what better way to relax than to discover and share other people's secrets? But this…

The way Turpin had phrased it, she could make a career out of this.

The gears in Parvati's brain kicked into overdrive, sorting out which people tended to give her the best information, what tidbits she had and hadn't yet shared, figuring out the best way to spread the word the she had information for a price…

Oh, she could totally make a career out of this!

And she could collect her first payment right now!

"Well," Parvati replied, a smile breaking out across her face, "I could use some help with Snape's potions essay…"

"Hey, Daph."

Oh no.

Nothing good was ever involved when Tracey was using that voice.

"Daaaaaaaaaph!"

Here she goes.

"Yes, Tracey?"

"Do you think we could befriend Potter if I seduced him?"

Oh, Morrigan, why was Tracey always like this?

"Tracey, he's eleven. You're both eleven. Best case scenario, you just make him really uncomfortable. Worst case scenario, you give him a panic attack and terrify him."

"So, no good then?"

"Definitely no good."

"Fine." Tracey pouted.

Oh, thank the Morrigan, she actually backed down. That's a first.

"Malfoy still hates me, apparently." Harry said.

"Really?" Hermione replied, "I would have thought he'd be over the whole sorting thing by now. That was, what, a month ago?"

"Thereabouts, yeah."

"So what did he do?"

"Challenged me to a midnight duel in the trophy room."

"Please tell me you didn't accept?"

"Of course not. I did consider accepting and then alerting the teachers to a student planning on being out after curfew, but I feel like that kind of stunt would reflect poorly on my reputation."

"How very Slytherin of you."

Harry grinned. "I try."

It was hopeless. Draco was stuck in Gryffindor. His father had pulled every bit of influence he could manage (some at the expense of his reputation), but no matter what he tried, father was unable to get the Hat to back down.

So here he was, a snake among lions.

Every part of him wanted to mope for a while, but Pansy, insufferable woman that she was, insisted that doing so made him unattractive.

As if a Malfoy could ever be unattractive.

Draco wallowed in his thoughts for a while before he took to wondering what to do next.

He couldn't well network in Slytherin. He'd heard whispers that the house was in chaos, and they'd never want to interact with a Gryffindor even if they weren't.

He internally shuddered at referring to himself as a Gryffindor. His housemates were starting to get to him.

If Draco wanted to network, he'd have to do it in his own house. That was a repulsive thought. What were his options in his year, anyways?

Lavender Brown was from an old and respectable family, though the girl was a bit… vapid. He already had Pansy following him around, so Brown was out.

Megan Jones's only family fame was being the extended cousin of the famous Quidditch Player. While Draco loved Quidditch, he wasn't about to befriend Jones over such a distant relation.

Abbot was from another old family, but she had befriended Dunbar, and Draco wasn't about to go around consorting with mudbloods yet. He still had standards.

For that reason, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan were also out. That only left him with…

Longbottom and Macmillan.

Well, they may both be blood traitors, but their families' legacies exceeded his own (not that he'd ever admit that).

Now he just had to figure out how to cozy up to them…

Gradually, he came up with an idea.

He could pretend to be remorseful for all of those times he'd called Longbottom a squib. He could say that he'd "seen the error of his ways" without specifying what ways he'd seen the error of. Yes, and then when they were friends, he would subtly persuade them away from their blood traitor ways and convince them of the truth of blood purity.

All he had to do was gain their trust.

So, first he would have to apologise, and then…?

Well Crabbe and Goyle followed him around a lot, so Draco guessed that following Longbottom and Macmillan around a lot would work.

"Excuse me, heir Longbottom?"

Draco decided that a formal apology would be best. Etiquette was always appreciated, after all.

Seeing that he had the boy's full attention, Draco continued.

"I wish to… apologise… for any past insults I've made towards your person. I've come to realise that some of my views are flawed."

Longbottom just looked shocked. "Uh, sure, thanks Draco."

Hmph. Well doesn't that just figure. He went through all of the formal motions, and Longbottom just addressed him casually, first name and all.

Well, the apology was accepted, so now he just had to tag onto these two until they had a solid friendship. Then he could begin phase two of his plan.

Father would be so proud of his cunning.

Damnit, damnit, damnit.

Everyone had ignored him until now, but now, between his befriending Hermione and the cracking of Slytherin's public facade, everyone wanted to meet the stupid "boy-who-lived".

Stupid fickle public opinion. Harry was perfectly content being ignored by his peers. Why couldn't they just continue to do that? He and Hermione had started acting as abrasively as they thought they could get away with when any would-be fan approached them, and it still wasn't keeping everyone away!

Of course, the person he was speaking to now wasn't someone he wanted to drive away, just keep at a distance for a while. That was even harder than driving people away.

"Look, Ron, I understand your desire to continue to be friends with me, but I can't just ignore the fact that you isolated yourself from me for a month and a half after my sorting. I've heard what you think about 'slimy snakes', and honestly, I'll need time to believe that you aren't another person trying to get close to me for being the boy-who-lived. It's not a title I'm fond of."

"Er, yeah, no problem mate."

Well, Ron looked suitably humbled, but not off-put, so Harry would consider that a success. He watched Ron regroup with Wayne and Susan before he turned around and joined up with Hermione.

"You handled that better than you've handled most fans." she remarked.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not really not sure if he's a fan or not. Besides which, it was nice to have someone be friendly to me on the train. The only other magical person I'd interacted with before I met Ron was Malfoy, and he didn't make the best impression."

Hermione laughed. "No, I can imagine he didn't. He doesn't seem like the sort to make any impression but a bad one."

Harry laughed along with her. He had grown to enjoy the idle bits of banter they shared.

"Hi," and older Ravenclaw said, "I've always wanted to thank you for what-"

"Shove off." Harry interrupted.

Harry didn't stick around to see her reaction.

"Not nearly as nice with that one, Potter." Hermione teased.

"They can't all be winners, Granger."

"At this rate, we might start to get a reputation,"

"Good, maybe then they'll finally leave us alone."

"Why," Neville gulped, "Why is Malfoy following us around?"

Ernie looked behind them to see Malfoy a few steps behind them, as he had taken to doing recently.

"I have no idea. Maybe he thinks we're friends now?"

"That's… That's a weird thought."

"You know what the best part about this 'Slytherin civil war' thing is?" Tracey asked.

"No, I can't say I do, though I also cannot say I understand what goes on in your head."

Tracey ignored Daphne's rebuke. Daphne was always bristly like this when Tracey was trying to have fun.

"The fact that we can now act with total impunity outside the house. Slytherin's rules felt restrictive at times, you know?"

"I'm not sure that level of freedom is something that someone like you should have." Daphne deadpanned.

Tracey laughed at that. Daphne could be frigid, but her sarcastic humour was her best characteristic. Tracey could never get enough of it, even if she was the target of said humour more often than not.

"You should know by now that there's a lot of difference between what should be and what is."

To those who wish to end a fight quickly and nonlethally, no spell is more useful than Conscientia Arescentem, the Fading Awareness curse. While magically taxing even for the most powerful adult wizards, the spell is large enough that even the fastest foes can have trouble evading it and has a built-in shieldbreaker to mitigate an opponent's defences. Indeed, the only downside of the spell is that the unconsciousness takes several seconds to fully kick in, but that is an advantage in disguise, as it means that the effect of the curse cannot be countered with a simple Rennervate the way a standard stunner could be. The knowledge of the countercurse is as well hidden as the curse itself, making it a guaranteed way to make sure than an enemy stays down.

-Excerpt from the Smith family grimoire

A/N: This chapter was fun to write. I think that hectic perspective switches are just my style. At this point, though, most of the lines are drawn. The characters are settling into their roles, friend groups are being established, and Slytherin's internal rules were put to ground by a well-played move from Zacharias. Seeing from a lot of characters' perspectives will always be a major part of this story, but it should be happening less often starting in chapter 8.

One early reviewer complained about the "super-political eleven year olds", but fundamentally, that's not what's going on in this story. Slytherin house isn't children making their own political moves; it's children playing politics on their parents' behalf, regardless of how the child feels about said politics. Ironically, Smith's ploy to undo that aspect of the house involved him playing politics on his own, using his family name to apply pressure, but no outside help.