When Alex reached the stone door in the basement, he spotted a younger student carrying a stack of books. She looked familiar—probably Mona, a half-blood classmate a year below him. From the way she clutched her books, she’d likely just returned from the library.
Mona froze when she noticed Alex, her surprise evident. She quickly nodded, her movements stiff and awkward, before hurrying inside without a word.
Alex offered a polite smile but said nothing, following her into the common room. As they walked down the corridor, a group of students approached from the opposite direction. They were laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Alex recognized one of them immediately—Millie Osbert, a pure-blood student. The others were also pure-blood wizards, though not the ones who paid him the monthly “protection fees.”
The moment Millie saw Alex, her expression stiffened. Her laughter died abruptly, and she quickly lowered her gaze, avoiding eye contact as if her life depended on it. She passed him hurriedly, almost breaking into a run by the time she reached the stone door. ‘Am I that terrifying?’ Alex thought, shaking his head. He’d even helped Millie improve her appearance with a beauty potion once, yet she still seemed more afraid of him than grateful.
Stepping into the common room, Alex was greeted by the familiar hum of activity. Students were scattered throughout the room. Some sat by the fireplace, working on homework together. Others leaned against the walls, engaged in heated wizard chess matches. Near the far corner, two groups had pushed tables together for a noisy game of poker, drawing a crowd of spectators.
As Alex walked through the room, conversations paused, and heads turned. Whispers filled the air as the students stole curious glances at him. Many hadn’t interacted with him since arriving at Hogwarts, and his sudden appearance in the common room was clearly unexpected. Ignoring the attention, Alex made his way to his dormitory without stopping to speak to anyone. The students didn’t try to engage him either, parting to let him pass in silence.
Once inside the dormitory, Alex cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and slipped back into the common room. He needed to observe unnoticed if he wanted to understand Slytherin’s dynamics. Under the cloak of near-invisibility, Alex studied the room more closely. On the surface, everything seemed normal. Students were busy with their usual activities. But Alex’s sharp eyes caught the subtle signs of division.
The students were split into distinct groups, almost like isolated islands. Nerdy students huddled together over their books, whispering quietly. Rowdier groups laughed and played games, completely ignoring those outside their circle.
These weren’t the simple divisions Alex had expected—pure-bloods versus half-bloods. The cliques were more complex, with both pure-bloods and half-bloods scattered across different groups. What stood out was the complete lack of communication between them. Even accidental eye contact was avoided, replaced by an air of indifference.
Alex watched this fractured house in silence, pulling out a small notepad to jot down observations. After quietly observing for a while, Alex slipped away from the bustling common room, his thoughts already turning over what he had witnessed.
In the two months that remained of his fourth year, Alex adopted a new routine. After completing his usual tasks each day, he would cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and return to the Slytherin common room or other parts of the castle to observe his housemates.
This newfound effort allowed him to reacquaint himself with his peers, many of whom he had never paid attention to before. With meticulous care, he jotted down names, behaviors, and evaluations on his recording board, piecing together a clearer picture of the fractured dynamics within Slytherin House. Sometimes, his observations bordered on stalking. He followed students discreetly, watching their interactions and tracking who they spoke to and how often. Through this, he uncovered a series of revealing moments—some amusing, some troubling.
He had, for instance, observed two couples navigating their budding relationships, their whispered conversations and stolen glances painting a picture of teenage romance in the dungeon halls. In contrast, there were the “lone snakes,” students who seemed to live in an endless cycle of attending class, retreating to the library, completing homework, and going to bed. Some didn’t utter a single word all day, which Alex found both baffling and unsettling.
Then there were the lively groups. One evening, Alex stumbled upon an internal chess and card tournament organized by an energetic clique. Their laughter and camaraderie stood in stark contrast to the house’s otherwise fractured state.
Other groups were less wholesome. He observed a band of troublemakers, mostly pure-bloods but with a few half-bloods mixed in, who delighted in pulling pranks on students from other houses. These pranks ranged from harmless jokes to full-blown duels. On one occasion, a massive prank war with Gryffindor spiraled out of control, leading to a brawl that ended with over 100 house points deducted from Slytherin. Alex even witnessed Snape scolding the culprits, his face thunderous with fury.
The divide within Slytherin extended beyond inter-house rivalries. The most glaring split was between pure-blood and half-blood students, a rift Alex himself had quietly exacerbated the previous year. The departure of Travers had eased some tensions, but the lack of trust between the factions remained palpable.
Within these factions, further divisions emerged. Among the pure-bloods, there were those who thrived on conflict and others who detested it, blaming their more combative peers for tarnishing the house’s reputation. Meanwhile, the half-bloods were split by personality differences. Slytherin’s culture of individualism and the isolating design of the dormitories only deepened these divides. While students in other houses often shared rooms and built bonds, most Slytherins had private dormitories, limiting opportunities for casual interaction.
The result? Small, insular groups that rarely mingled. These cliques were often defined by grade level, but shared interests or grudges further segmented the house. Slytherin’s current state also reflected the changing demographics of Hogwarts. The war with Voldemort had decimated Britain’s wizarding population, and many families had fled abroad, reducing the number of students at the school. During Alex’s year, Hogwarts had fewer than 400 students in total, compared to the usual 800. Slytherin, always the smallest house, now had just over 100 students, enough to ensure private dormitories for everyone.
However, this year saw a notable uptick in new enrollments. Thanks to Minister Bagnold’s policies and renewed confidence in Britain’s safety, many wizarding families had returned, bringing a new wave of young witches and wizards to Hogwarts. Yet, for Slytherin, the increase in numbers had yet to translate into unity.
Through his observations, Alex identified the root causes of Slytherin’s dysfunction. The house suffered from a lack of leadership, as no one had stepped up to unite them after Alex personally ensured the removal of the prefects last year, leaving a power vacuum that had yet to be filled. Slytherin’s culture of self-reliance, while often a strength, had spiraled into selfishness, with students prioritizing their own interests over house unity, fostering an atmosphere of distrust.