The Corpse That Lived.

Chapter 26

Severus watched his snakes warily as they all trickled slowly in for breakfast. He knew the first night was one filled with duels, power plays, and alliances being forged.

He himself had not gotten involved in the politics of Slytherin until his fourth year when he was challenged by an older student who hated his blood status and his ratty cloaks.

Nobody challenged him again after that.

He nodded to Farley, who surely would have came to him if there had been any problems, and kept a close eye on the others. He almost spat out his coffee when Lestrange, one of the older students he had marked down to speak with, came in with a grisly scar down the side of his face, and his eyes lowered to the ground. Someone clearly got the best of him.

Arrogant boy. Though clearly not arrogant enough to win.

When the first years trickled in, he was surprised to see them allow Dahlia Potter her first choice of seating and then arranged themselves around her. Even third generation pureblooded bigots Crabbe and Goyle sat near her, scowling and cracking their knuckles at any other student who dared look at her.

Not that they did.

They all seemed to avoid looking at Potter. Severus wondered what led to this ridiculous display of fear and deference toward the scrawny little princess of the wizarding world.

Draco, Weasley, and Zabini held no qualms about engaging Potter in conversation though. Potter herself looked bedraggled, irritated, but with a smug twist of her lips that made Severus wonder just what kind of trouble she had stirred up last night. Trouble, of course—what else did a Potter ever bring?

Severus waited to leave the Head Table until after the owl post arrived. Slytherin students were always swarmed with missives from parents advising their heirs on the best alliances to make after hearing of the opening night clashes.

He smirked when he saw Draco pouring tea for Potter after finishing his letter from his parents. When Lucius was advised Draco to follow power, he probably didn't think it would be potter Draco would follow.

Severus slowly approached the Slytherin table with his stack of timetables prepared for the students. He gave the 5th through 7th year schedules to Farley and Flint to distribute—casually erecting a privacy charm when he was near Farley.

"Professor," she said, nodding respectfully. "How can I help you?"

"Good morning, Miss Farley. I wanted to ascertain that there were no problems last night?" Severus sent a pointed look at Lestrange's mutilated face.

Farley laughed, with only a small amount of hysteria detectable in her tone. "Well, we only had a few challenges," she said slowly. "Alexander went first and made one that he clearly lost."

Severus scoffed, arrogant child. A fool, but still older and more trained than a first-year girl.

"Who did he challenge? And what curse left so deep of a scar?"

Farley leaned in eagerly. "It was Potter. With a knife. After she dodged all of Lestrange's curses and tortured him." She laughed again. "It was amazing, Professor. Potter didn't even have her wand."

Severus sucked in a breath. 

Of course. Potter. Arrogant, reckless, and showy. Just like her father. A first-year girl carving open an older student? Perfect. Exactly what he expected.

He glanced at her, already imagining the headlines: Potter brilliant, Potter untouchable, Potter unstoppable.

Farley laughed again, entirely too gleeful.