Beta: Cloudy

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The first dinner was lovely. The trip to the dungeons was marvelous. I constantly glanced about in wonder at the Hogwarts castle. I was walking in THE Hogwarts. Could you believe it? THE HOGWARTS. My jubilant attitude wouldn't falter throughout the trip to the dungeons. Professor Snape warily eye me several times and I could feel the faint probes of his legilimency attacks. The only thing he saw was my black sea, and from his increasingly frustrated glowers, I knew he knew I knew occlumency.

He also knew I was raised by his hated enemy, Sirius Black.

He definitely suspects me of being a potential hellion.

He was absolutely correct. The amount of sheer pain and suffering I was going to inflict on these baby snakes would be remembered for decades. I was going to be Queen of Slytherin and my subjects were in desperate need of discipline.

How could I refuse?

Was it wrong that I was enjoying my plans so much? Maybe I shouldn't get too invested in the RP.

The Slytherin common room was such a mood. The stone walls had gothic architecture (which I had to guess was redesigned in the gothic era since that style definitely didn't exist pre-Hogwarts) and had a relaxing greenish-blue tint over it since the windows were literally windows to the black lake. It was super cool to have underwater windows and see little things swimming around out there. There was a roaring fireplace with green fire and white leather couches, and—ugh it was amazing.

If the Gryffindor common room was comfy and cozy, then the Slytherin common room was classic evil wizard.

Little sad there wasn't a human skeleton chair.

Note to self: make a human skeleton cha—no. Make a throne out of human bones.

Professor Snape promptly dropped us off at the common room and left before I even had a chance to start teasing him. It was neat that the other Houses had their Head of House lead them. Professor McGonagall was too busy as the Deputy Headmistress to do so.

The Slytherin prefect was a witch named Gemma Farley, and she had pointed out the girl and boy halls, and that each student had their own room. Before anyone was about to head off I cleared my throat. "Excuse me? Could I have everyone's attention?"

"Ooooh. The great Potter wants our attention," mocked one of the upper years.

There was some laughter.

I smiled a type of smile that would have made Sirius turn tail and flee.

"There are going to be changes around here," I said quietly with my chilling smile and forced steel into my tone. Children of Death Eaters or not, they were still children, and I was an adult who had been meticulously planning my takeover of Slytherin for nearly a decade. I was prepared to face their worst opposition, and while my repertoire of spells wasn't nearly as vast as the upper years, I was damned determined to succeed.

It would be a trial, most certainly, but I was prepared for it.

Harry would have enough to deal with. I would not allow him to have to worry about being stabbed in the back while at school. Plus I had some of my own goals for the Slytherin House.

Prejudice had to be adjusted slowly, carefully, and thoughtfully. I couldn't brute force equality without drawing blood, and earning resentment for the sake resentment. If I received too much resistance, I could end up causing more harm than good in the long run.

I didn't have high expectations for the upper years, but I could start with my own year group and work down.

Before that though, I needed power. They needed to respect me and value my opinions. I wasn't sure how Tom Riddle was able to take over Slytherin with no magical training, no money, and no power to his name, but surely I could do it when I had all of those things?

My words drew some stares, but the upper years merely scoffed and turned away. Draco paused, and he turned to face me fully. His guard dogs followed suit, and soon all the first years, and many of the second and third years were facing me.

"You'll have to clarify, Potter," Draco told me, his gaze assessing.

I lifted my chin high. I hissed in Parseltongue, "You're an idiot."

That immediately drew some looks of surprise, and the older students turned back to me with cold eyes. Iris squirmed under my clothes, but she knew better than to reveal herself to so many people without my order to do so.

"Slytherin House has fallen to pathetic standards. We are the House of ambition, yet all I see are morons who bully lesser years because they're too pathetic to fight their equals. Even worse, everyone knows it's you and the only reason you're not expelled is because of Snape. Where is your cunning, Slytherin? Where is your ambition? For the past decade, half of Slytherin graduates disappear into nameless thugs and nobodies quickly forgotten. The other half? Barely scrape by unless they live off of their family's money. Who, in the past decade, has contributed? Has arisen to proper ambitious heights? Our Minister is a Hufflepuff, when for the past century it had almost always been a Slytherin!"

My words drew glares, sneers, and looks of anger from all of my housemates.

"And you're going to fix that, you bloodtraitor?"

I let out a hiss again, and a few students cringed at the cold sound. "It's simple. Act like morons, and you'll be properly punished. Snape won't save you anymore, because Dumbledore will never expel me."

A bluff, I was certain he would draw a line as need be, but they had no way of knowing that.

One of them let out a mocking laugh. "Let's see you try. It's us against you. You're nothing but a Mudblood lover, and you won't ever be able to change us."

"We will see," was all I said.

I pushed past all of them, headed down the girl's hallway and entered the room with my name already scrawled on it.

I did not sleep that night. When the clock struck two in the morning, I slipped on my invisibility cloak and I got to work.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

As I didn't sleep that night, I was the first one out in the common room. Dressed for the day and with a big smile on my face I patiently waited for my fellow housemates to leave their rooms.

I had two lifetimes of pulling all nighters, adding another to that list didn't phase me. At least I was young enough to have the energy to spare.

One by one the baby snakes started to leave their rooms.

And with each one exiting their room a scream filled the hall. The first scream made me cackle to myself and I knew it caused confusion. Another rushed out, got caught by my trap, and off went another one.

Each student—except the first years—were targeted. A trap was set up outside each of their rooms. No trap was the same. For maximum psychological impact, they needed to see exactly how vast my abilities could be. Granted, well over half of them were actually designed and made by Sirius in the past year. I was decent enough, but Sirius's imagination and experience had me beat.

The first one who made it to the common room was a seventh-year girl who was covered head to toe in sticky worms that wiggled and stank so foul it made her gag with each step. She saw me lounging casually on the couch, and she shrieked, "POTTER!"

It was a stampede. They all came rushing out to me, each victim displaying how they were caught in my traps. When one stepped too close to me, he set off the defense trap I had prepared beside me and was launched away.

"Oh my," I tauntingly laughed at them. "How far Slytherin has fallen."

Their outrage was music to my ears.

I wasn't sure who took out their wand first. It didn't matter.

As soon as the first shot was fired—I reflexively ducked underneath—I pulled out one of my sleeping bomb potions and released it. I held my breath as I sprinted out of the gas before turning around and casting, "Bulla dome!"

A low level charm to make a large bubble to trap a gas. It would stay up as long as I powered magic into it and could easily be popped. It didn't matter, because the students who had been raring to attack me breathed in the sleeping draught.

It was doubtful any of them had ever faced proper opposition, given their lack of ability in dealing with me. With the DADA position cursed they lacked education, and with too many students cowering from them, they lacked experience. I'd be willing to bet most—if not all—had been coddled by their parents and never had to deal with many obstacles in their life.

A shame. Learning to lose was an essential life skill.

They were out like a light.

It wasn't meant to be a heavy-duty sleeper. Only enough to knock them out for a couple of minutes, but that was plenty of time to gather their wands and lay them out flat on the table. In one hand I held my own wand, and in the other I had an ax.

So those sweet baby snakes woke up—still covered in gunk, goo, slime, or bugs from the traps—and saw me grinning evilly over their wands with an ax.

The word terrified felt too weak to describe their expressions.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Now, in any other House I would have been reported.

In Slytherin?

It was an unspoken rule that no one reported anyone during a power struggle.

In that one morning, I demonstrated a bit of my power.

They would not tattle to a teacher. It was a war between students, and most importantly of all, how could they ever admit to an adult that a bloodtraitor was besting them?

It was their turn to show me their power.

Who will rule Slytherin?

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Aside from that energetic start my morning was rather calm. The first-year students saw the aftermath—Draco had the courtesy of entering the common room as I cackled over the older students with a raised ax—and wisely did not try to bait me. If anything, they were outrageously polite to me.

Draco must have had some instinct deeply ingrained in him through his Malfoy genes to stick to the powerhouses, because he literally walked right past everybody on the floor and offered to escort me to the Great Hall.

What a sweet child.

A brown-nosing sweetie pie.

Not that I could blame him. It was in his best interest to befriend me. Either to backstab me later on, or to reap in the benefits of being friends with Slytherin's new queen. Just good common sense on his part.

It wasn't hard to spot how flustered he was—he didn't even wait for his bodyguards. He had stumbled over his morning greeting to me and his skin was noticeably paler.

He tried to hide it, but he was still a child. A scared one at that.

"Very kind of you to escort me," I praised him, making my tone gentle. There was a reason I hadn't targeted the first-years, after all, and I kept the second-year traps to very minor things like mildly annoying smells and changing their hair color for an hour.

It was too cruel to go all out against children. Still, kind of cruel to target the teenagers, but I could live with it. I had to make a stand in order to make a difference. For children who had been groomed in sadistic prejudice I could not afford a soft hand.

I couldn't go too hard, either. Even if they were children with over a decade of prejudicial conditioning, they were still children. Their brains hadn't even finished developing. It would be pointlessly cruel to use the full extent of my adult mind to bully them.

I didn't have a torture fetish like Dolores.

Ugh. Dolores.

That was one witch I'd hide all the water from if she was on fire. What a horrible woman. I'd jump for joy if her death was posted in the Daily Prophet tomorrow.

Now that might turn some heads. After all, I gave the terrible Fenrir a chance... shouldn't I have done the same to Dolores?

Giving Fenrir a chance directly helped my cause with the werewolf community. Giving Dolores a chance... gave me nothing. There was no logical gain to it, nor any rational explanation. At best, I could claim moral high ground but who the fuck cared about that in a fight for revenge, survival, and fixing a broken society?

Dolores was vile and useless. There was no reason to keep her alive, let alone offer her a chance at redemption.

If anything she was the most dangerous opponent at play. When I moved on to my plans for the Wizengamot I simply could not allow her to interfere. Her ability to manipulate the political landscape was dangerous.

I wish Fenrir actually killed her. Why did she have to escape the raid?

Was the power of Plot™ keeping her alive, or was she supernaturally lucky that night?

Whatever it was, it wouldn't last. She might have fled the country but she'd come crawling back. Cockroaches always came back. The moment she returned I'd deal with her, even if I had to do it with my bare hands.

I was not going to sit by while some hag tried to kill my family. I wasn't a baby trapped in a crib anymore. I would keep them safe.

"O-Of course," he stammered, swallowing and trying for a confident smile. It looked like barely put together false bravado.

"Do you like snakes?" I asked him, wanting to change the subject to something he would feel more comfortable with.

"Yes," he answered honestly, the easy answer making him relax enough that he stopped clenching his hands.

"Come say hi," I hissed quietly—he flinched.

Iris popped her out from under my collar, pretty blue eyes sparkling as she nodded to Draco. "Hello."

Draco's eyes widened with childish delight. "Is that an occamy?"

"She's my familiar," I said, slowly pulling her out in order for him to see her. "Would you like to pet her?"

The ten-year-old boy couldn't hold back his excited smile. He reached out a hand and with great care he patted the top of her head. She let out a trill. "She's—she's very pretty."

"Thank you. Her name is Iris."

"Hello, Iris," Draco said. "Did she—did she help you do that stuff?"

"She kept me company," I answered. "Don't worry, I have no intentions of targeting the first year group. As long as you behave, I have no reason to punish you."

"Behave how?" Draco uneasily asked.

"No bullying anyone in the first or second year group," I said. "They're too young and won't know enough to defend themselves. If you do choose to... deal... with someone from another House don't get caught. You have to successfully put the blame on someone else. We need to get rid of the easy target on Slytherin's back."

Draco nodded along with me. I couldn't be sure if he was in agreement, or simply nodding to acknowledge what I said.

"The older students... they're going to get you back," Draco pointed out.

I laughed. "Oh. They're gonna try."

A queen who can't outwit all of her subjects isn't worthy of her title, after all.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Oh.

They tried.

They sure did try their best.

From Monday to Thursday it was a constant back and forth. They tried to hide behind the corners to surprise attack me but Iris could smell them from down the hall. They tried to set their traps but their inexperience gave them away and most failed to trigger on their own. They tried to come up with some kind blackmail, but they couldn't find anything that didn't just make me howl with laughter to their face.

Thursday night the fifth-years ganged up and tried to start an all out war with me in the common room.

They fell prey to a homemade flash-bang grenade and a lot of solid Somnums (the low-leveled version of Stupefy) that I likely wouldn't have been able to perform without a wand. Thank you, so very much, for existing my beloved wand. Oh, how much easier my life would have been if I had my hands on you sooner.

Meanwhile, my onslaught of attacks and booby traps had not let up. Only when someone came sniffling to me about promising to be good did I relent in my attack.

I would not stop until each of them were ready to kneel before me.

With all of that I knew their loyalty wasn't bought. Doing that kind of attack only cemented their fear of my retribution. They would have to reassess their strategy and put on a smile and show just for me.

Which was fine. As long as they obeyed my orders, over time, I would properly change them.

As I waited I relished in the chaos that was a child's war.

I wondered what that said about me.

Was I more traumatized witnessing Lily's murder than I initially thought? I had compartmentalized that memory with my death, so I couldn't tell. It wasn't the healthiest way to cope, but I felt like it would be a waste of time to confront it. Time that could be better spent helping my family survive and completing my list of wishes.

War aside, though, being at Hogwarts was a sincere delight.

We got to study the night skies through our telescopes every Monday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week we went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with an adorable dumpling of a witch called Professor Sprout, where we learned how to take care of all the magical plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. Herbology was quickly becoming a favorite of mine and I eagerly raised my hand for each of her questions. I think Professor Sprout might even have started to like me, despite being a snake.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic though. Professor Binns was as monotone and sleep-inducing as described. It was best to self-study on my own time and use that class period to nap.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. He looked exactly like his movie counterpart in the later movies which honestly surprised me. He had such an excitable and charismatic way of speaking that when he taught the whole class couldn't help but listen.

Professor McGonagall was just... ah. What a lady. I loved her. I wished she was my grandma. Strict and clever, she gave us such a talking-to the moment the class sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. It got a lot of ooos and aaahs and it was clear that the class was excited. Excited up until they realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. It was funny to see their faces fall.

After taking a lot of complicated notes, we were each given a match to try to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only I had succeeded due to my completely unfair advantage over the other children. It was hard to take pride in being a good student when I was literally an adult who had been practicing magic for years prior.

But, ah, that smile from Professor McGonagall made my day.

Please let me adopt you as my grandma.

The class most people had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but it was a stinky joke. All I could smell was the garlic he kept on him to try to hide the rotting flesh of Voldewhore in the back of his head.

It was interesting to note that I felt no pain when we locked gazes, nor did I sense any attempts of legilimency from him. It was possible Quirrel wasn't able to perform legilimency, and I had no intentions of directly interacting with Voldemort to test if he would try to read my mind.

The very idea of meeting that horrid mad gaze made me shiver in disgust.

I wondered, as I sat in that class, if his diary counterpart had an equally mad gaze?

I'll find out next year.

Friday was the first class I had with Harry since we started Hogwarts—double potions with Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Harry had taken a seat beside Hermione Granger—I was surprised that he didn't sit with Ron who had instead sat with Seamus—while I sat in the next desk over with Draco.

Draco had become more comfortable around me since introducing Iris. And, you know, not attacking him like I did the other students. In fact, he started laughing at the upper years who foolishly had not given up to me yet. It was an innocent boyish laugh that I hoped I'd get to hear again. In a lot of ways he reminded me of Harry. A more coy version of my twin, perhaps, but kind in a lot of ways. He was especially sweet to Iris, and he loved to feed her. Anyone who treated my baby girl that well got brownie points in my book.

Professor Snape entered his potions classroom with his billowing cape behind him. It was a beautiful and dramatic entrance and I mentally applauded him. He did roll call, not pausing over the name Potter like he canonically should have.

Since he had a Potter in his own Slytherin house, was he trying to restrain himself, or...?

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but everyone caught each spoken word—like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech.

I was honestly on the edge of my seat like Hermione. Potions was always going to be my favorite class. Biology and chemistry had been the only things I were good at, the only things I was ever praised at. I had spent nights alone in my room re-reading articles and textbooks to try and comprehend things faster than my peers. Studying chemistry and biology were the only things that I could do in my free time, and so they were the only things I could "enjoy."

Only things she allowed me to "enjoy."

Here, as Rosie Potter, that knowledge turned into genuine curiosity. When Remus got me my first potions textbook and we made our first salve together it was—it was beyond wonderful. It was fascinating, invigorating, and it ignited a passion inside me I didn't know I possessed.

I wanted to understand the "science" of magic.

I devoured the books Remus got me over the years and a new idea came to me. One of tantalizing delight that no other witch or wizard had even attempted. It was that idea that ultimately spurred me into action to creating harmony with werewolves.

It was my dream—no, my goal—to perfect the werewolf "curse."

By that, I meant I was taking a page out of a video game my old friend had played prior to her passing. Some artwork of the creatures shown in that game looked absolutely wicked, and I had one as my phone background for several years. That creature was a worgen.

I wanted a worgen army. Start up a city named Gilneas and slowly take over the world with those perfected worgens at the front.

I was serious.

I genuinely wanted an entire country filled with worgens, magic, and equality. One where they didn't have to hide magic away from the world. Wouldn't it be so fantastic if the magical society could join their knowledge with science and use it to advance medicine and improve the lives of so many people? Just imagining it... blew my mind.

Not wholly certain I could make that a reality—that seemed dangerously close to wanting to take over the world. It was a funny thought. Perfecting the lycanthrope curse and having an entire city filled with worgens seemed perfectly within my reach. Country and world, maybe not so much.

But I couldn't do any of that without mastering chemistry, biology, and potions! So Potions was going to be the class I went out of my way to excel in.

Plus Professor Snape's flair for drama was such fun to listen to. It felt like I was in a theater class with a professor who loved his job. Professor Snape didn't love his job, but he clearly admired potions. And, you know, Professor Snape was a fan favorite for a reason.

We stan our greasy-haired drama baby even if we didn't encourage his toxic one-sided love. Maybe if he lived long enough he'd find a way to healthily cope with Lily's death and find happiness!

"Mr. Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry jolted, blinking rapidly as he processed the fact that he was called upon. "U-Um—I don't remember, sir."

Professor Snape's curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything. Miss Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Ooo, I get to be called on?

"Belly of a goat, sir!" I chirped, elated to be called upon. I was honestly afraid his hatred of me, coupled with his desire to never harass a Slytherin, would result in him flat out ignoring me forever.

"Expected response of a Slytherin."

OOOO. Do I get to be praised by him, too?

Man, that put a big smile on my face.

"Mr. Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry reddened as he shook his head, his brow furrowed in thought. "Um... th-they're the same, sir?"

"That should not be a question," Professor Snape snapped at him, dark eyes glittering with anger. It bothered him that Harry could answer one of his questions. Or maybe he was putting on a show for the sake of his Slytherin students.

With that introduction out of the way, though, it was time for the Potions lesson to properly begin. Professor Snape put us into pairs and instructed us to mix a simple potion to cure boils. Considering I had been doing potions with Remus for years by that point—and a lot of experimental stuff on my own on nights when I couldn't sleep because I kept hearing James' and Lily's screams in my head—the cure boils was a breeze.

Draco was doing very well, too. He needed little guidance from me, and when I praised him he admitted he loved doing potions with his mother which I thought was just absolutely adorable.

Our potion actually warranted more praise from Snape who touted us as the ones everyone else should try to strive to match.

The praise from being in Slytherin is great for my ego. Thanks, Professor Snape.

The lesson ended rather well—ignoring the fact that Neville's potion exploded and Professor Snape somehow blamed Harry.

You know, a part of me wondered if he was nicer to me because I was Slytherin, or because I looked more like Lily? Harry was a spitting image of James minus the eyes, but I was a spitting image of Lily with Jame's messy curled hair and eyes. Since I kept my hair up in a bun no one would really find out exactly how crazy my curls got. As far as Professor Snape could be concerned I was a dead ringer for his childhood friend-turned-unrequited love.

Hoped it was the Slytherin thing.

The weekend came like a breath of fresh air.

And by that I meant the old Slytherin babehs tried to dogpile on me Saturday morning in a desperate attempt to tame me.

Oh, the dearies.

I worked up a sweat dispatching them in the common room. There were a lot of onlookers who blearily drank morning tea as they watched the mayhem that was desperate bullies wanting to retain power. Because they were trying to physically restrain me they had a hard time using their wands against me. Namely, anyone who tried to shoot off a spell ended up hitting their comrade because I'd jump behind them and use them as a meat shield.

Their lack of experience in hand-to-hand combat didn't benefit them, either.

They were bigger, though, and physically stronger.

But I had the wandless, silent, Accio, and Wingardium Leviosa at my disposal, with a speedy Somnum added to the mix. I couldn't perform Somnum wandlessly, but give it a year or two and I'd get there.

Beautiful spells. Never will I want to live a life without you again.

Within forty-five minutes I triumphantly stood, out of breath, sweaty, sporting several dozen cuts across my body, and with a bloody nose, over a heap of weeping babeh snakes.

"Kneel to your queen, peasants," I cackled, high off my victory.

To my embarrassing surprise the traumatized first and second-year students did exactly that.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Bucket List Completed:

17. Taunt Slytherin

18. Cause Chaos in Slytherin

19. Wait for Slytherin to snap (I have bet Kreacher that they will Crucio me, and Kreacher says they will be smart enough not to do something so obviously illegal) Note: I have lost the bet with Kreacher. Damn it.

20. Dominate them through sheer power and intimidation

21. Become Slytherin Queen (fuck your lord shit, queen is better)

ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

Babehs.

Answer: Gryffindor obvs. Ravenclaw suits me better, but I could never miss a chance to roll with the Weasley twins. My inner Lilly would never forgive me to pass that up.

Question: How would you spend your free time at Hogwarts?

Reviews are love!