"What was that about, Potter?" Nott asked as Harry moved to sit down.
"Oh, I just needed to give McGonagall my pet slip. I didn't get a traditional pet," Harry said, looking around the table.
As he spoke, Amber's head poked from his collar. She flicked her tongue once again in greeting, giving a hiss. Unlike the others he had met, Harry saw that there was a look of surprise but no fear in a lot of the other kids' eyes. "Whoa, Potter has a snake. A ruddy big one, too, considering the size of that head." Blaise whispered in awe. "Who'd have thought?"
Nott grinned. "Like I said, Potter. Interesting."
Draco grinned as well. "It's huge, an enormous snake. And it's brilliant, too. Her… Er… One of the friends we made on the train said that it could be his familiar."
At Draco's comments, some of the older students peered over. "You serious, Potter? A Familiar? No one's had one of those in a hundred years."
Harry looked over. "I mean, it was only suggested. I don't know if she is or not." Amber glanced over, flicking her tongue out as if agreeing with Harry.
The older student grumbled, muttering something like "arrogant tosser" before returning to his conversation with nearby older students. Harry turned back to the group of his fellow classmates, who had started talking about different Noble houses in Slytherin.
A sudden ringing sound echoed through the hall as a glass was struck, cutting through the murmurs and whispers like a sharp knife. Harry recognized the older man standing at the head table—Professor Dumbledore—with his twinkling blue eyes now focused on the crowd. As he raised his glass, a hush fell over the room.
"Now that everyone is settled, I wish to welcome you to Hogwarts. I am Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, for those of you who do not know, and I am your headmaster. Foremost, I wish to mention the large forest near the castle is named The Forbidden Forest, and is off-limits to all students. There are many dangerous creatures lurking there, and only adults who have full control of their magic should enter. However, should you have a legitimate reason and permission from your Head of House and myself, you can enter the forest with a teacher or the Groundskeeper."
The students murmured excitedly, the atmosphere buzzing with anticipation as Dumbledore allowed his words to settle in for a moment before continuing. "Next up, magical pranking tools that are banned at Hogwarts are detailed by our Caretaker, Argus Filch, and posted on a list by his office door. His office is conveniently located near the Great Hall, just past the portrait of Bellamas the Tamer. For those who do not know who that is, it is the man dressed in red and green robes; you cannot miss him."
The old man's eyes twinkled with mirth as he observed a few Muggle-borns stifling giggles, exchanging comments about "Christmas colors." "Now, I must impress upon you the seriousness of spellcasting in the halls. Such behavior is strictly forbidden, and if you are caught, you will face a loss of house points and detention. Repeated offenses will land you in even more dire straits. Remember, your wand is to be used solely for spell practice."
Draco scoffed. "A wand is a wizard's right. We can use it where we want. Our Head of House will understand and make sure we aren't punished." Draco whispered to Harry.
"Now, the Heads of Houses are Professor Severus Snape, who is both a Potions Master and the Potions Professor." The black-haired man sitting near Dumbledore stood up.
"Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor." McGonagall stood up next.
"Pomona Sprout, Master Herbalist and Herbology Professor," A short, pudgy woman stood up, giving a smiling wave.
"And Filius Flitwick, Dueling Champion and Charms Professor." The last name echoed through the hall, drawing Harry's gaze to a diminutive figure perched atop a stack of books. With his round glasses and lively demeanor, Professor Flitwick reminded Harry of a Goblin, his stature lending an air of whimsy to the moment. He carefully positioned himself atop the books, straightening his robes before offering a polite bow to the assembled students.
"Finally, due to renovations and construction going on, the Third Floor Corridor is out of bounds due to magical construction taking place. For your own protection, please refrain from going there, as the last thing we'd need is a student being struck by an errant floating brick or accidentally being mortared to the wall by a sticking charm. Now, thank you all for listening, and that will be all. You may now feast!"
Dumbledore clapped his hands, making food appear on the tables. It was Harry's turn to have his eyes sparkle. "Wicked!" Harry said as he saw all the choices of food. There was so much! He decided to have a small plate at first, seeing the others were doing the same as they were eating slowly and carefully. Looking down the table revealed most of the students in Slytherin had impeccable manners.
Harry looked over at the House tables of his other friends, seeing Neville chatting with a blonde haired witch, a girl Harry remembered as Susan Bones. Next to him was the first student called to the Sorting Hat; Hannah Abbot.
His gaze moved to Hermione, his face shifting to frown. She was sitting all by herself, picking at her food while all the other students were talking around her. She didn't really seem to be getting along with her Housemates. He privately hoped she found some friends in her House.
The last one Harry peered at was Ron, who was sitting near his brothers. They were engaged in animated conversation, stealing glances at Harry every now and then. Ron's expression flickered with unhappiness, though Harry couldn't pinpoint the cause; he seemed to be caught in his own thoughts. Meanwhile, a few other Gryffindors shot him hostile glares that left Harry puzzled. What had he done to warrant such disdain? *What was that for? All the while, Ron was shoveling food hurriedly into his mouth as if he had been starving.
Harry swiftly redirected his attention to his own plate, trying to shake off the queasiness that Ron's table manners inspired. He was grateful for the etiquette book he had read before arriving at Hogwarts; it had been an invaluable resource. He couldn't help but imagine how mortifying it would be to eat like that. Would his housemates despise him for such ill-mannered behavior?
Draco finished his plate before taking a small tart for dessert. As he ate, he would glance over at Harry. "Everything alright, Potter?"
Harry nodded. "I'm alright. Just… this place is huge. How will we get around?"
"That's our job, Potter," a voice called from further down the table. Harry turned to see a young man with tousled brown hair grinning at him. "Don't worry; you firsties are in the capable hands of the Prefects. We're here to help you find your way around."
Harry nodded. "Okay, thanks."
"It's our job, Potter. Don't need to thank us for it. The name's Pucey. Adrian Pucey."
Once the feast was completed, the food disappeared as quickly as it came. Several students were starting to get up, Adrian Pucey being one of them. "First years, with me."
Harry, Draco, Nott and Blaise all stood up and moved with a few other first years to join the older student. Harry bumped into a large, broad girl, who looked at him. "Oh, sorry, Ma'am." Harry said quickly.
The girl immediately blushed and averted her gaze, leaving Harry puzzled. Did he come off as disrespectful? He felt a flicker of concern, and glanced at Draco, who had incredulous expression on his face.
"What'd I do?" Harry whispered.
Draco's response was hushed, "That's Millicent Bullstrode. She's a minor family, why would you call her ma'am? You're one of the Eight."
"I was just trying to be nice. I bumped into her." Harry replied as Draco shrugged, scoffing a bit as Adrian counted.
"There's a total of eleven Slytherin first years. Harry Potter, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, and Ernest Carrow. You are to always travel in groups of three or more. Any issues you have with each other-" He looked directly at Harry "-stays in the Common Room. Outside of the Commons, we are a united front. If a Slytherin is in trouble, you help them. If another House is, it's not your problem. Now, follow me, and I'll lead you to our common room."
All of the other first years followed. Harry took the back with Draco, moving to talk to his friend. "Why do we have to walk in groups?"
"Because Gryffindors enjoy showing us how we're slimy snakes, and should be punished for being such." Blaise told him before Draco could answer.
Harry looked a bit confused before motioning to the ceiling. "But spells aren't allowed in the halls."
"No one follows that rule, Potter." Draco said. "Even my father warned me I'd have to protect myself. The best way is to make sure that everyone knows you are strong. Either in magic, or politically. Make yourself untouchable."
Harry nodded. Sound advice, he thought, considering that Draco's father supposedly was quite political himself. He didn't know much of the man, but supposedly he was a major player in the Ministry of Magic, according to some comments he had heard.
The group made their way down the dimly lit halls, Harry marveling at the dozens of moving portraits that adorned the walls, each depicting figures in various poses, their eyes following him curiously as they passed. As they approached the entrance to the castle dungeons, Harry's excitement mixed with trepidation. A sheer wall loomed ahead, but just as they drew near, a soft hissing sound filled the air.
§§Welcome to Slytherin, Young Serpents.§§ The words echoed mysteriously, and a colossal stone serpent slithered from the wall, its scales glistening ominously in the low light. As it coiled upwards, the wall shifted and transformed, revealing a door.
"Oh, that's cool." Harry marveled, looking at the stone snake. He took in the magnificent stone serpent, its intricate scales catching the flickering torchlight. He leaned closer, entranced by the way the creature seemed to pulse with life.
"The hissing is an excellent touch," Nott remarked, his voice laced with admiration. Harry turned to him, his brow furrowing in confusion. Did Nott really not hear the voice? He remembered what Amber said. Maybe speaking to snakes was rarer than he had thought.
Harry was about to comment when Pucey stepped up, interrupting the boy. "Pureblood." With the word spoken, the door shuddered and opened as Pucey turned to the group. "Remember the password; it changes twice a month. If you're locked out, you'll have to wait until another Slytherin comes. And for heaven's sake, DON'T write the password anywhere. Our Common Room is a sanctum. No one uninvited has entered it in five hundred years, and it won't happen on my watch."
The students all headed inside and they went down a spiral staircase that seemed to get larger as they walked down it. Soon, they arrived in an enormous central room that had tables, couches, and chairs set up around a couple of fireplaces that blazed with warm flames. Green and silver colors were everywhere, and enormous windows revealed that they were underwater!
"Wicked!" Harry hurried to one of the windows. The murkiness of the lake made it hard to see, but he could have sworn he saw something move in the depths. Draco joined him while Pucey went to take a seat, pulling out a book and starting to read. The other students were already here, obviously having beaten the first years to the common room.
After a few minutes of staring out into the lake, Harry turned just in time to see the black-haired professor walk into the room. "Slytherins, everyone together. I have your schedules here. First Years, I want to give you information before I hand you these."
Harry moved up, taking a seat on the floor as the older students occupied most of the chairs. He looked up at the man, who glanced at Harry, then quickly looked away, as if disgusted. After everyone was there, the man, who Harry remembered as Severus Snape, spoke.
"First of all, I want to express something that Pucey already explained to you. Outside of this common room, I don't care if you despise someone or not; you will not show it. This is the foundation of our house. From the outside, Slytherin stands as one." His gaze fell directly on Harry, this time with a harsh look. "There will be absolutely NO exceptions."
Before Harry could react to that look, Snape had continued. "Slytherin holds itself higher than most other Houses, and we have a ranking system beyond the House Points. Those who have at least three followers and retain them will have the opportunity to be named a Prince of Slytherin until the term ends. As you progress in years in Hogwarts, Princes will be in charge of managing their age group's extracurricular activities. Each year's Princes of Slytherin will of course be beholden to Prefects and myself, but they will be able to bring notes of behaviors to us to distribute punishments as we see fit."
He paused for effect, his dark eyes scanning the room before continuing. "To become a Prince of Slytherin, you must engage in what we call a Duel of Minds. First years may only participate next term, depending on how much magic you learn through both your classes and independent study by then. I prefer not to escort any of my students to Madame Pomfrey, so let me be clear: these duels are not to be dangerous. They are not merely contests of magical strength; they are debates in which intellect and cunning are just as crucial. Without both, you will never achieve the status of Prince, for people do not follow dunderheaded buffoons."
Snape's expression hardened as he elaborated. "The important thing to understand about a Duel of Minds is that it combines magical skill with the art of debate. Your Housemates will observe as you defend your position against your opponent, utilizing spells to bolster your arguments. It doesn't matter whether your stance is right or wrong; what matters is your unwavering adherence to your principles. Should your opponent manage to sway you, you will have lost the duel. Following the duel, any student who wishes to support either candidate will make their intentions known. If enough students rally behind you, you will be recognized as a Prince. A Prince with no subjects is no Prince at all," he sneered.
"These Duels of Minds are to be conducted only here in the Commons and are never to take place in private. Should I discover anyone attempting such a duel outside these walls, the consequences will be... severe." A sneer crossed Snape's face as he shook his head.
"Now, beyond the Duels of Minds and the Prince of Slytherin title, I wish to inform all of you that potions will be difficult. I do not tolerate idiocy. I expect each of you to have read at least the first few chapters of your textbook before arriving in class." His gaze landed squarely on Harry. "And while some of you might believe you're too exceptional to bother with this, rest assured that if you choose to be a dunderhead, life in my class will become exceptionally difficult."
Professor Snape began distributing the schedules, his expression as inscrutable as ever. Meanwhile, several older students waved their wands with practiced ease, clearing the chairs from the tables and arranging them into a circular formation. With a flick of his wand, Snape duplicated a few chairs before settling into one of them, casting an authoritative gaze around the room.
Harry watched, fascinated, as the students' magic took shape, appearing like ethereal chains wrapping around the chairs, pulling them into position or duplicating them with fluid grace. Soon enough, a chair appeared in front of Harry, and he took his seat just as Draco, eyes gleaming with excitement, plopped down beside him.
"Princes of Slytherin, rise." Professor Snape said and a handful of people stood up. "Are there any challengers to these Princes?"
Silence enveloped the room as Harry scanned the faces around him, curiosity and tension hanging in the air. After a brief moment, a confident voice broke through the stillness. "I challenge Prince Flint, of Year Six."
A strong-looking young man stepped forward. He looked rather tough, like he'd be able to put a person in a headlock in a matter of seconds.
"I accept your challenge," Flint smirked.
"The topic we will be debating is the rights of Magical Houses in the wizarding world and their roles." The young man spoke up. Several older students started talking, while Professor Snape smirked.
"Very well. Let's begin," Snape declared, his voice cold and commanding. Flint strode confidently to one side of the circle, while the challenger took his position on the opposite side. Harry overheared a couple of older students calling him James Ravhart.
As they settled in, intricate glowing symbols materialized on the floor, forming a protective barrier that shimmered like glass around them. Harry couldn't tell if the dome was a visual manifestation of the magic he could see or if it was visible to everyone.
"Begin!" Snape commanded, and with a swift flick of his wand, he released a sharp, resonant sound that signaled the start of the duel.
Without hesitation, James unleashed a bright green spell from his wand, declaring, "The Magical Houses have existed for years, and are not meant to be simply servants of the Elder Houses!"
Flint sidestepped the spell, before retaliating with a red spell in return. "Expelliarmus! The systems of the Houses were set up before our time. Because of this, we should respect our traditions and stick to them. Families with more magic have always had higher power."
James took the spell head on, flicking his wand forward and redirecting it harmlessly against the shield before racing forward, sending another blue spell at Flint, the incantation quick as he continued. "Yet the other houses never check to see what the power level of the Magical Houses are! How can they be sure?"
Flint hastily put up a glowing shield, dissipating it as he went on the offensive, firing two spells quickly. James dodged to the side as Flint made his counterpoint. "Yet it's not simply because of inner magic; it's also because of blood and family magic, which flows in all who share a House."
James was able to deflect one, but a hasty shield wasn't able to prevent the other and he was sent flying back, hitting the back of the dome as it shimmered gently. Pushing himself up, James flicked his wand, a wave of magic rushing from it.
Flint leapt backwards before tapping his wand to the ground, making the stone shift and reform into a wall that caught it as James retaliated with his words. "Family Magic is what makes it unfair on the other Houses. What right do the older Houses have withholding magic from the rest of us? What right do they have to say they are strong because of something they keep hidden?"
Harry was captivated as the spells flew back and forth, each incantation punctuating the escalating argument. Flint staunchly defended the traditions of the old houses, insisting on their inalienable right to magic and power, his voice resonating with conviction. In contrast, James, whom Harry had gathered from hushed whispers was from a relatively new Magical House lacking ancestral magic, stood his ground with passionate defiance, challenging Flint's claims and advocating for a more inclusive vision of magic. The duel became a vivid clash of ideologies, with Harry enthralled by the intensity of the exchange.
Suddenly, there was a burst of magic and James was flung to the wall, groaning. "Simply put, the Ancient and Noble Houses are in place because of the concentration of magic in our blood. Because our blood can handle the magic, we have the right to use it. And the family magic CHOSE our families; we didn't force it to stay with us." Flint said as he flicked his wand at James, preparing another spell.
James held up a hand. "I yield."
Flint smirked, and turned, letting James stand. Snape clapped his hands. "Now, who stands with this Prince?"
Harry saw around a dozen students from fifth, sixth, and seventh year stand behind Flint.
"And the challenger?"
Harry saw only a few students from the fifth and sixth year move behind him.
"Slytherin House rests. Flint remains a Prince of Slytherin until the new year dawns." Snape said, before looking around. "Are there any other challenges to be made?"
Harry saw three more duels, one against a prince, and then two between students in third and fourth year, respectively. They seemed to use the Duel to cement their status in the House, something that fascinated Harry.
At last, the duels concluded, revealing the intricate social landscape within the House. Harry observed various cliques forming around him, some staunchly devoted to the ideology of Pureblood supremacy, others adopting a more neutral stance, and a few who remained outside of any particular faction.
He noted with intrigue that some Princes were followers of other Princes; something that interested Harry. In one case, a Fifth-year Prince followed a Third-year Prince, who had won his Duel with the topic "Purebloods are important in the Government." It became clear to Harry that the hierarchy among the Princes was determined by their stances on various issues, with different viewpoints attracting their own followers, making the title of Prince a reflection of leadership rather than inherent superiority.
So many topics and so many things were discussed. Harry almost didn't notice Snape go up to the front.
"The Duels are over, for this term. Minor duels again are permitted in the Common Room on request for practice or debate. Simply speak to a Prefect to have them activate the dueling circle." Snape nodded. "Now, away to bed, all of you. And remember what I said about reading the potion textbook. I will not tolerate dunderheaded imbeciles."
Snape twirled, his robes flourishing as he went back to the entrance of the common room and disappeared. Harry could see several of the Princes talking with their friends and he moved to sit with Draco.
"Are you going to try to be a Prince?" Harry asked curiously.
Draco grinned in response. "Of course! And I plan to get a few followers from older years to join me as well."
"What will you take as your stance?"
"Mudbloods are polluting our blood and ruining the lines of Purebloods," Draco sniffed disdainfully, his expression a mixture of contempt and frustration. "Unfortunately, Purebloods are growing weaker because of the acceptance of Mudbloods into our magical society," he added, gesturing at Harry.
Harry was a little annoyed for some reason, as he questioned his friend. "What's a Mudblood?"
Draco scoffed . "Muggleborns have no respect for our culture and beliefs. They are the worst sort of scum, and they try to force their ideals of muggle society onto us."
Harry frowned. "But Hermione's a muggleborn, and my mother was a muggleborn."
"No, Potter, you misunderstand. Mudbloods are those who reject our way of life. Who do no research and instead try to force us to obey muggle rules."
Harry frowned a bit at the comment. "But some muggle rules are good."
"Perhaps they are. But they should be discussed by the Wizengamot, not forced onto wizards who have had their own laws for centuries." Draco pointed out. "And Mudbloods believe that wizards are beholden to muggle laws, despite our treaty."
"Treaty?"
"Yes, the treaty was signed by King Arthur himself, before his disappearance. Merlin was named the Regent of Magic, and his family, the Emrys, was the first of the Most Eminent and Noble families." Harry's eyes grew wide as he absorbed this new piece of information. "But Merlin never had a child."
"Yes, but the treaty never stated that it was reliant on his line to rule. So when he passed, he set in place a group of wizard families, rich in magic, to govern our people."
"The Wizengamot." Harry said, suddenly realizing what Draco was getting at.
"Right." Draco nodded. "And because of that treaty, they have created laws that have helped our society for years. For instance, did you know that human slavery has been illegal in the magical world since the twelfth century, even before the muggles did it?"
"I… didn't know that at all." Harry shook his head.
"Muggles and Magicals are different nations. We have faults, but muggleborns that come into our world thinking that the world is the same as theirs are wrong. And THAT is what makes Mudbloods, Mudbloods." Draco nodded.
"I still don't like the term." Harry grumbled as he slouched into his chair.
-Author's Notes-
Wow, 100 bookmarks, and nearing 100 followers. Thank you so much for the attention, guys! I just hope this story is a good one for all of you.
Now, we're at the point of being a quarter of the way through. Did you know that the original Sorcerer's Stone was only around 75k words? This is going to be around double that. But, I have a question for all of you. What do you think I should do, make a second story or just keep adding more and more chapters to this one? Let me know what you think in a review, I'll probably ask this question a few more times before this one is mostly done, so that I can figure out how you guys want me to host the story.
Special thanks to my beta tester, Angie, she's been helping me out and structuring my fic better so it reads a lot smoother for everyone.
Once again, JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me.