"I realize," I boomed, "I'm not very popular here in Slytherin."

  A few people snorted and I smiled. I'd been anxious I would stick my foot in my mouth when I'd first envisioned this, that I'd stutter, that I'd fail to capture the focus of the room, drowned out by the buzz, or that I'd have a meltdown, exposed by my supposedly unreined expression of my emotions.

  "First muggleborn to be Sorted to the house in years, a friend of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs? I am offensively eccentric, I admit."

  I now saw I needn't have worried. Putting up a show, overselling my confidence, following a tight act? I was in my element.

  "I am fine with being disliked. I'm fine being ignored, left out, talked behind of. I know we all are reasonable people," I really didn't, "and that you'd respect such an arrangement. I don't bother you, and you let me off." I could see some nods, boosting my confidence. "But."

  I spun on my heel, pointing a finger at Draco, who had a confused body language on from head to toe, holding Goyle back by a hand on his shoulder, Crabbe standing behind the two of them with the others with worry in his eyes, holding on to both of them. Unexpected, but not unwelcome.

  "I draw the line at two things. Disrespect, and more importantly, being underestimated. And this boy," intentional phrasing on my part, belittling him, "has committed both." His brows climbed up to his bangs.

  One thing I was starting to like about this house, was that they seemed to like listening, gathering information, seeing what the buzz was about. Surely caused by the traditions of the house, putting the behaviour in the newly Sorted. They were less likely to interrupt than the average group of kids.

  "And I will not stand it." Dropping my arm, I kept my legs moving as I spoke, taking a few steps in whichever direction, turning around, surveying the crowd and sneaking glances at them. Communication was about more than just our words, and I could see I had the crowd hooked up, thanks to my body language and tone, if not for my phrasing.

  I could see the different reactions as well, and by extension, the different mentalities and cliques. Blackwood was watching with the eyes of a mama cat, all wide and focused. She took a step, but Jet Black reached out and grabbed her arm. That seemed to be happening a lot today. Blackwood looked back and Jet Black shook her head. Thanks, journalist.

  There were people, not united by groups or year, who were indifferent. One or two seemed uninterested, and the rest looked like they wanted to turn back down to their work. One girl continued to write, even, without taking her eyes off me.

  Some were grinning, like a child at a newfound toy, clearly entertained. Others were frowning, sneering, glaring. I pegged those as the group that hated me the most.

  A select few, were watching with great poker faces. Merely observing.

  "Draco Malfoy thinks I have little magic. He believes I don't deserve my gift. Believes that I should go back to being a regular old muggle. Says I'm weak."

  He shrugged behind me. He hadn't actually said the last part, but he wasn't going to deny it now.

  "And my pride has been hurt."

  There was no point appealing to the sense of morality of these people.

  "Unfortunately, this rat's words are well received by the lot of you, so I expect he poisoned you with his lies. I'm setting the record straight, right here, right now."

  I took my wand out of my pocket, slick like those cowboys from movies, making a show out of balancing it's tip at the edge of my finger. I made note of those who tensed in the room.

  "If Malfoy has any doubts about my capabilities, we can contest for who is the better wizard."

  Snorts, giggles, laughs by the seniors rang across the room. They thought me a silly first year, over her head with what little success she has seen at magic, ignorant of how deep the magic iceberg went down.

  I opened my mouth to continue-

  "A duel, then?" a feminine voice interrupted me, and my head turned alongside others' to see the arrival.

  The last seven house cups, the prize of gathering the most points among the houses, had been won by Slytherin. The success, was not a coincidence, and key players always seperated themselves from the common men in such dominant streaks.

  Case in point was her. The seventh year girl stepped into the room, and her presence, her each move had weight to it.

  The genius of Slytherin, who had ascended to the position of head girl after rejecting being a prefect, who'd singlehandedly assured her house's dominance in the school cup, who earned the attention and awe of all professors of Hogwarts, Victoire Selywn, had just addressed me.

  Exactly what I wanted.

  I shoved the thought that the bob cut and the average build made a fairly unassuming look for her aside as I opened my mouth to reply. "Not at all. Wouldn't want to hurt him. I'm not so cruel."

  She regarded me with tired eyes that reminded me of Lisa...

  Malfoy decided that moment was when he found his voice. "Hah! The cripple thinks she can beat me. I'd destroy you." His shout was that of an insecure little brat's, in contrast to the assuredness of my voice.

  "How does it factor in I'm a cripple? It would be a battle of magic, not blows, would it? We are above such barbaric methods." I actually wasn't, but I was caressing the arrogant sense of superiority those listening had. Anything that seperated them from muggles, they'd welcome with a crushing hug like a venomless snake suffocating its prey. "And if we were to duel, my victory would be dismissed by the deniers, who'd just say it was just a playground fight between two little firsties." People seemed to agree, I saw nods, and shifts in position that confirmed it. "I'm looking to prove myself on objective grounds, concrete evidence."

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "You have a prosposal," Selywn said. The room deferred to her. These were people who worshipped power, and she was top dog here. "State it."

  And the approval of her, if given, would cement the success of my plan. I'd made a bet on her coming to witness my speech, after figuring out her program. It had worked.

  "A challenge," I said, and my voice was changed by the wand in my hand. A trick I'd picked up and used even back in my Skitter days, from capes whose powers changed their voices. Grue, Uber, the Faerie Queen. In this case, it just had a little more reach, little more push to it, an otherworldliness that demanded open ears and an impressionable brain. "A race for points."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes. The match between Malfoy and myself will span across the school year, decided by who earns the most school points. This way, it's a fair battle of our magical abilities, and there won't be any protests about the end result, and we will contribute to the house with our best efforts instead of bothering those who don't care for our feud."

  The last bit was important. Most of these slimeballs might not have liked me, but they wouldn't bother as much if they felt I could prop them up. A useful idiot, in their eyes, if you will.

  Sooner or later, they'd come to learn I could be useful, but not usable.

  "Hmm. I'll allow it," Selywn. hummed. I closed my eyes as a big smile strechted across my lips. Strike! Her gaze landed on the blond boy.

  "Let's do it," Malfoy spoke. "But what will I get out of it when I win?"

  I made a show of being suprised he accepted at all, dropping my chin. "Oh really? Didn't expect that, well you are the favorite of Snape, maybe you think it evens the field." I laughed out loud, exaggerated. "And what you'll get? The fact that you would have humiliated and destroyed me, putting me in my place? Would that not be enough?"

  I could hear whispering now, but it was low enough. I paid it no attention.

  "You're delusional," Malfoy said, annoyed. "I'll make you eat your words."

  Shrugging, I said, "We have a deal, then."

  "Absolutely, you ant." He turned around with a snarl, marching towards the door.

  "Hey Draco?" I called out.

  His head snapped back at being addressed with his first name. "I won't sabotage you. Be at ease. I always play fair."

  He left the room with a roar of rage, his friends at his heel.

  That comment had been intentional. He was prideful if nothing else, maybe attempting to keep a word he didn't give, and one could argue any amount of bullying to be sabotage. Also, he'd fear getting caught and losing points, handing me the win by his own actions.

  Truly a magnificent plan. Was I a genius or what? I walked back, my eyes on the crowd, to finish this performance.

  Blackwood spoke up. "This should go for everyone else, not just Malfoy." She had her arms wrapped in front of her.

  Huh? What was she saying?

  "Whether you are entered a challenger against her or not, if you have a problem with Taylor Hebert, express it in a civilized manner." She had a unique confidence on her face. "Our goal here, above all else, is to get an assured victory at the house cup and decorate ourselves with the most impressive credentials we can gain at Hogwarts."

  Oh!

  What!

  An!

  Assist!

  I smiled, full teeth, as Blackwood said openly what I hadn't.

  "Anyone jeopardizing that because of their insecurity or immaturity won't be tolerated. Control yourselves," she was a complete military commander now with how she was final in her words, "and don't do anything that could attract unnecessary attention."

  I nodded along faintly, and I wasn't the only one.

  "If you have a bone to pick, pick it through competitions of academics, extracurriculars and the like! If you think you are better than others, let your performance speak for itself!"

  Feel-good hormones flooded my system as I took in the end of her speech. This had turned even better than I thought it could.

  "Keep my words in mind!"

  Some people were in clear agreement with her, but others were gearing up to protest, so I cut in before they could, "Now then, I thank Ms. Blackwood for her words, and I've said all I wanted to say. If you'll excuse me, I'll go for my dorm."

  For a moment, we just exchanged looks, the room's occupants and I. Then, "Wait! Is it true you transfigured a match into a needle in your first class?" a boy with green eyes asked out of nowhere.

  Oh. It made sense. There was no way they hadn't heard. And it was an impressive feat too, no doubt, even McGonagall had her mouth hanging open at the sight of it. I could see curiosity glow in the eyes of everyone in the room.

  I just smiled. "I wonder what Malfoy told you about that."

  And then, I moved to exit the room with the sentence, "It wasn't a needle."

  I left the room as whispers and conversation exploded in my wake, walking past Selywn.

  I had no illusions that this would solve all of my problems. Hell, taking up this much attention, it was set in stone that more problems would be born out of this. I'd seen it in the posture of some of them. They'd test me. Test the challenge, test my confidence. Try to make me fail the challenge. It was the price of demanding their attention.

  But it was a start.