Ok so, a few notes about the story- firstly this is the first book of hopefully many to come though I am unsure of how quickly I will get them done. For that reason while I have already finished this, the first book, and had the wonderful beta hikagekittysama (yes I finally had someone beta my story) check it for mistakes, I will only be putting out one chapter a week. My intent is that hopefully by the time all the chapters for this book are out, I will have completed the second book. That is not to say that this will actually happen but those are my intentions.

Now about the story it's self: I am writing the Harry Potter series using the idea of- 'what would happen if this was Harry's mind frame?' Basically that means I'm screwing with Harry's psychology because I am a mind fucker (pardon my French). The books themselves will follow the original timeline as religiously as I can possibly make them and will even include quotations directly from the book though I won't be marking them all individually so consider this my disclaimer and please don't bug me about it. Of course due to the nature of my version of Harry Potter's character and the changes that occur because of him other character changes were inevitable so don't freak out if you notice that other characters seem different.

On a final note please understand that while I rate this book T for violence there will eventually be homosexual situations:

consider this your warning,

If homosexual situations are not your cup of tea

Than I suggest you turn back now.

I don't want to hear people's biased opinions because honestly, I don't give a crap

Now, for some additional warnings:






Well, I think that just about sums it up, I will make further notations as I think of them at the head of the chapter or on my profile. Let me know what you think!

Mistress Slytherin

Chapter 1

The Unfortunate Death of Vernon Dursley.

Harry was finished.

The pale shaking ten year old clutched his stomach where he'd been kicked as he stared up at his uncle with pure hatred written in his eyes. He had tried…so many times he had tried to get them to accept him, to get them to at least treat him like a human. He'd made sure that his grades were always prefect, above average, he'd studied late into the night many nights and for all his efforts he received nothing more than sneers for having done better than his cousin. He did all the chores, was polite to everyone, offered to help, made the meals…nothing. He was and always would be nothing to them.

So why should he care about them?

The question made him stop, his entire being froze up. Then slowly…very slowly…he warmed to the idea. Why should he care? His uncle sneered at him and tossed him a dirty rag.

"Shrivel up and die you worthless freak." He said before lumbering out of the garage. Harry stared after him allowing the man's words to sink in. For the first time he didn't flinch at the sound of them. For the first time he didn't think to himself how he could have done things better. For the first time, in the entirety of his miserable life he understood that it wasn't him that was the freak, no…the Dursley's were the freaks.

Slowly he made his way towards the small sink and washed the blood from the deep cut in his arm before painstakingly pulling the three nails his uncle had driven into his hand out. He panted as he watched the water in the sink turn red until slowly, but surely the gaping bleeding wounds began to close. He wasn't a freak…no, he was something else…something that everyone else saw except the Dursleys.

The old woman pat his cheek with a wrinkled hand as he settled her groceries onto the counter. "Thank you so very much young man, it's hard to find chivalry in young people these days. You are a very special young man."


He watched the wounds close in fascination as he tasted the word. He was special.


Harry silently washed the dishes watching as his uncle made his way towards the TV in the living room. It had been two weeks since the incident in the garage, two long weeks of thinking and reassessing his views. He'd never noticed before just how much the Dursleys influenced him before, until he caught himself berating himself worried that they would hate him because he'd made a mistake. It hadn't been easy, no in fact it had been a painful process that he sometimes worried that he would never overcome, but slowly, very slowly he was changing. He'd set rules for himself, boundaries, a mantra that he repeated as often as he could.

He was not a freak

He was special

He was better than them

The Dursleys were wrong about nearly everything

Right was the opposite of what they said

He deserved better than this

He smiled faintly to himself as he dried the platter in his hand. Someday, when he was older, he would show them, he would create a place for himself where no one could hurt him.

The phone ringing nearly caused him to drop the platter he was holding and his uncle grumbled from where he sat before answering. "Dursley residence, this is Vernon speaking." He said turning the volume down on the TV. "Ah! Aunt Marge! So good to hear from you!" Harry carefully set down the platter and continued to dry the dishes as quietly as possible. "What? Oh that's-that's terrible! But how? He only just turned thirty in June, I remember because he sent us that postcard- a heart attack? Really? Yes, just like dad…poor fellow. Oh now Aunt Marge I'm as fit as a fiddle! Nothing to worry about here…yes, yes of course I'll come down on the weekend for the funeral- of course I'll bring Dudders- oh he'll be crushed though, always did love his uncle…yes, yes of course I understand. Yes, I'll talk to you later." Harry listened to the sound of the phone being hung up before turning the water back on and continuing his chores. Idly he thought about the conversation, he would probably be left with miss Figg if they didn't take him along- he'd never heard that Vernon's dad had died from a heart attack…of course Vernon probably didn't think of it as a very manly way to go.

"Boy! Get me a beer!" Harry frowned and turned off the water before doing as he was told only to stop as he retrieved the pork rinds his Uncle liked to snack on with his beer. A cold terrible thought crossed his mind as he slowly opened the bag and poured a great amount into the bowl. He stared at it for a long moment.

He was not a freak

He was special

He was better than them

The Dursleys were wrong about nearly everything

Right was the opposite of what they said

He deserved better than this

A decision was formed in his mind at that moment.

No one would know…no one would suspect it at all.

It was Vernon's choice and he was just the poor doting nephew…He could do this…and Vernon would never hurt him again. Harry hid the slight trembling in his hands as he carried the beer and snacks into the living room. "What took you so long boy?" His uncle groused shifting his large form into the couch.

"I'm sorry about your uncle sir…would you like something else with your drink? I was going to make fried chicken for dinner but if you want I could make it for you now and make something else for dinner." Vernon screwed his red face up in thought before looking at him suspiciously.

"You'd better do that boy, there's a series I want to watch- and make it extra crispy!" He demanded before lifting his beer to his lips and guzzling it. Harry turned quickly to hide his grim expression.

"Yes sir, I'll double fry it." He said clenching his jaw. That night, Harry watched his uncle demolish three half pound fried steaks smothered in thick gravy. With it the man ate half a plate of mashed potatoes that were yellow from the amount of butter Harry had put in it and extra creamy from the healthy dose of mayonnaise he'd added. For desert the man consumed three large pieces of cheese cake. Harry watched with darkening eyes as the man returned to his TV series a plate of steaming greasy bacon wrapped mini sausages in one hand and another beer in the other hand. Harry turned to the sink and began to wash the thick film of fatty grease from the white plate that had once held at least two pounds of double fried chicken.

Harry didn't sleep that night, instead he cried, covering his eyes with his arm in the darkness of his cupboard. He swallowed angrily past the heavy lump in his throat. Again he was crying in the dark because of Vernon Dursley, again he was suffering because of the man, but not for much longer…no, soon he would be free from the man. The next few days found Harry adjusting the Dursley's eating habits. Petunia who nearly always ate salads in order to keep her thin figure and avoided looking at whatever else was on the table in order to avoid the temptation didn't noticed the change in diet. Dudley, who Harry suspected knew very little about heart attacks or really anything else continued to eat heartily not really seeing what was going in his mouth only how much he could fit in his mouth. Harry, who had always run grocery errands for his aunt easily changed the list, whole milk instead of one percent, coffee creamers, lard butter, salt…the more he did it the less guilty he felt and the more determined he became. He began anticipating his uncles wants keeping an eye on the man's snack tray ready to replace it the moment it was empty or to fetch the man's slippers, menial tasks that had before required the man to get up and walk were taken over by Harry.

By the time Friday rolled around Vernon was already frowning as he tried to fit into his pants.

"BOY!" He hollered his face red as Harry walked by with the laundry basket. "You went and shrank my clothes in the wash!" He growled struggling to zip his trousers. Harry pretended to wince.

"Sorry uncle, if you want I can adjust the waist band." He said handing the man a beer. Vernon snatched it away and yanked off his pants.

"Better have it done by the time I leave for work!" He ordered before storming out of the room. Harry lifted the pants and rubbed the material between his thumb and forefingerthe first sign that it was working. Immediately he retrieved his aunts sewing kit and began to add several inches to the waist band. This would do for now but his uncle putting on weight was something his aunt would notice even if she rarely looked at her husband any more. He frowned and gazed at the faded material for a moment as a solution came to mind…

Harry hurried down the stairs and handed his uncle the mended trousers before making his way into the kitchen where his aunt was sipping her morning tea and reading a romance novel. "Aunt Petunia?" He said quietly gaining her attention. Immediately she scowled at him.

"What is it boy?" She demanded coldly. Harry winced slightly at the sharp tone.

"I was fixing uncle Vernon's pants and noticed that his clothes are getting a little old…I was just thinking that he might need new ones before we go to the funeral…I mean Aunt Marge might get mad if he's dressed shabbily." He said scratching the back of his head. Aunt Petunia frowned for a moment before looking back at her book and sighing. Harry inwardly smirked as she retrieved her pocketbook and handed him a large wad of bills.

"I'd better see every receipt boy do you hear me? I don't have time to go since I have to start packing and Dudders has that school program later but you'd better not dress your uncle cheaply." She sneered before picking up her book as Harry pocketed the money.

"And finish the dishes before you go!" She snapped in annoyance before becoming absorbed in her book. His aunt's growing laziness and need to keep up her image as the perfect house wife would be her downfall. Quickly he finished the dishes and caught the bus to the local shopping district. Ten sets of slacks, all a size bigger- several dress shirts that he could alter as his uncle gained weight and two sharp looking suits that even his aunt couldn't complain against and he was on his way back to number four. He quickly took the size tags out of the new clothes and replaced them with tags from the old clothes before packing his aunt and uncle's suitcase. Feeling a rush of giddy satisfaction he settled the receipts and the remaining money in the bowl where he usually put the food shopping receipts and neatly wrote his spending into the small note book his aunt used to keep track of where the money went. She always threatened him about the receipts but he'd learned long ago that she hated math, more times than not she would just glance at the book, sneer at him and return to whatever she'd been doing.

"Boy! Get down here and make snacks for Dudders friends, they'll be here soon!" His aunt yelled up at him. Harry scowled before glancing at his uncle's suitcase.

He was not a freak

He was special

He was better than them

The Dursleys were wrong about nearly everything

Right was the opposite of what they said

He deserved better than this

He smiled and stood. "Coming Aunt Petunia!" He said rushing down the stairs.

Soon…very soon.


As he'd expected he spent the weekend at Miss Figs house listening to the endless tales of her various cats while his aunt and uncle went to the funeral. Harry amused himself by daydreaming about his uncle eating out every day, craving the fatty diet that Harry had gotten him used to. Of course the man would probably drown his 'sorrows' in liquor along with the rest of his over-sized, overwrought family and make himself so sick come Monday that he'd have to stay home from work. Then Harry, like the doting nephew he was would be sure to give him all the snacks he desired. More than once he caught himself smiling as Miss Fig prattled on.

No one would suspect a thing.

Monday found Harry staring out the window for the first time anticipating the return of the Dursley's. He nearly laughed out loud when he caught sight of his aunt's pinched expression from behind the wheel while Vernon leaned back in the passenger seat with an icepack on his head.

"The Dursley's are back Miss Figg!" He called out as the womantoddled in carrying a set of weak tea.

"Oh? Oh yes of course deary best get back then! Come visit whenever you like!" She said cheerfully before setting the tray down. Harry hid his grin and grabbed his bag.

"Thank you for letting me stay the weekend, sorry if it was a bother!" He said making hisway to the door. Miss Fig smiled widely.

"Think nothing of it dear you're always such wonderful company!" She said waving him off. "Such a polite boy." She muttered as he slipped out the door. Harry schooled his features as he stepped into number four gratefully inhaling the faded smell of bleach preferring it any day to the smell of cabbage and cats.

"Boy! Is that you? Get the luggage and put on some tea for your uncle!" His aunt hollered causing Vernon to moan audibly. Harry smirked and did as he was told.

Soon…very soon.

He smiled as he placed some saltines on the tray. "Coming!" He called pouring the steaming water into the kettle as his harried looking aunt stumbled into the kitchen. Harry handed her a cup of tea as he placed the sugar and creamer on the tray. She took it gratefully and slipped into her chair with a long sigh. Harry carefully lifted the tray and carried it up the stairs accustomed to being ignored.

"S' that you boy?" His uncle said peeking an eye open. Harry carefully closed the door and set the tea tray down on the side table.

"Yes uncle." Harry said quietly before pouring the man his tea. "Is three creamers enough?" He asked wary of the man's short temper.

"Five." His uncle muttered. "And a sleeping tablet, best sleep this off." He said rolling slightly. Harry nodded his head and passed the man his tea. "Oh, and Aunt Marge gave everyone some pills at the funeral…supposed to help prevent heart attacks or some such rot- put them in the cabinet in the bathroom will you?" He said rubbing his eyes as he sipped on his tea. Harry frowned his lips becoming a thin line.

"I'll get them just as soon as I get your sleeping pills uncle." He said before picking up the tray and slipping out of the room. Pills to prevent a heart attack? He grit his teeth and smoothed his expression as he made his way down stairs and into the kitchen where his aunt had fallen asleep in her folded arms at the table. Quietly he slipped the tea set onto the counter and gathered the suitcases.

"Move freak!" Dudley shouted startling Petunia awake as he shoved passed Harry and out the door. "I'm going to Pierce's house mum!" he hollered over his shoulder before slamming the door. Petunia groaned and rubbed her face.

"Uncle Vernon is going to take a sleeping pill and sleep off his headache do you want one too?" Harry asked as he juggled the luggage. Petunia sneered slightly and blinked slowly. "I'll sleep on the couch; get me that pill though will you?" She said tiredly. Harry nodded and carried the suitcases up the stairs setting them down by the bathroom. Carefully he took out the small bottle of pills and frowned. What was he going to do about these? He doubted his uncle would actually take them, but…he sighed and opened the medicine cabinet his eyes scanning the shelves for the sleeping pills only to catch on his aunt's herbal diet pills. For a moment he gazed at them in shock before slowly returning his eyes to the glass bottle in his hand. Shakily he popped the cap and pulled out one of the pills…they were exactly the same as the pills his aunt had gotten nearly a year ago She'd stopped taking them because they weren't doing anything and they'd been sitting here since then. He glanced at the stairs and shakily poured the pills in his aunt's bottle onto the counter replacing them with the ones in his uncle's bottle before scooping the pills on the counter into his uncle's bottle.

"Boy! Bring me that medicine!" His uncle called out from his room. Harry quickly replaced the bottles and pulled out the sleeping pills.

"Coming uncle!" he said hiding his smile.


It was nearly two months later that it finally happened. Vernon had stayed home because he'd felt dizzy and nauseous. Of course it had been put down to Harry's cooking and food poisoning which Harry secretly couldn't deny. His aunt Petunia had quickly escaped the house to do the food shopping for the first time in a long time and Dudley was at his friends' house playing a new video game. Harry, who had been carrying a tea tray stood in shock his eyes widening as he realized what was happening. His uncle's face was bloated, his eyes bulging out as he jerked his hand clutching his chest. Harry felt a thrill rush through him when panicked eyes landed on him begging him silently. For a moment he almost stepped forward and tried to help, but he froze instead.

How many times had he been the one begging for the pain to stop?

How many times had he wondered if he would die from the pain?

Slowly a smile drifted across his lips and he shook his head watching his uncle's eyes bulge further in panic. A thrill went through Harry as he heard the man choke and watched the jerking increase he could almost taste the mans fear…he could almost feel his problems dieing with Vernon's raspy struggling breaths. Tears slipped down his cheek as with one last gurgling jerk Vernon stopped moving and his eyes went glassy. Harry smiled faintly and stepped back out of the room closing the door silently behind him before rushing to the bathroom and throwing up the scant amount of food that he'd eaten that day. If asked what he was feeling at that moment as he leaned his sweaty head against the cool porcelain Harry wouldn't be able to say. Yet he could tell you that amongst the horror and fear he felt there was an overwhelming sense of relief. He'd done it…no one would have any idea that he was the one to cause it. Green eyes darted toward the cabinet and shakily he got to his feet and pulled out the two bottles switching the diet pills with Vernon's heart attack pills. Vernon…he was dead…Harry smiled slightly as he returned the bottles to the medicine cabinet and picked up the tea tray before slowly returning it to the kitchen. As he gathered his gardening tools he hesitated lifting his head his eyes glittering with determination.

"I am not a freak, I am special and I am better than them. The Dursleys are wrong about nearly everything; right is the opposite of everything they say…and I deserve better thanthis."

He deserved better than this

Harry smiled softly to himself and brushed away the tears absently and made his way to the front yard. Someday he would show them, he would create a world where no one would be able to hurt him. He viciously tore a weed from the ground. Flowers were fragile but beautiful they just needed someone to tend to them- someone to tear out the weeds. Maybe he was like a flower that had no one to tear out the weeds that threaten to choke out his potential, but then, he didn't need any one else to tear out his weeds, he could do it himself, after all hadn't he always done just that?

Petunia appeared two hours later unaware that she was now a widow. Harry felt an odd sort of satisfaction in answering her demands to get the groceries from the boot so that she could rush up stairs and take off her uncomfortable shoes. The piercing scream she let out was one Harry would never forget.

Vernon Dursley's funeral was held the day before Harry's birthday on a cold bleak hill. Harry watched the casket as it was lowered into the ground and couldn't help but feel a sense of finality to it. A chapter in his life was over. Quietly he stood back ever a stranger in the crowd, no more important than a lawn ornament as Petunia dabbed delicately at her eyes and Dudley took in the attention like a sponge. People came and went offering empty condolences and hefty checks conversing quietly about how wonderful Vernon had been whether they'd hated him in life or had hardly known him. It was startling for Harry to realize that Vernon was truly unloved. Even his wife and son were more focused on themselves than the loss they shared. Harry could only shake his head silently at the scene.

"Hello boy." A quiet voice spoke behind him nearly causing him to jump. Slowly he turned to the speaker his green eyes wide behind his crooked glasses. The man was tall, lightly tanned and a quick look at the cut of his suit told Harry that he was also very wealthy. He shifted self consciously.

"Hello sir." He said sheepishly unaccustomed to having any ones full attention on him. The man smiled widely showing Harry a row of strait teeth that fit his handsome complexion nicely. Harry hesitantly raised his hand as the man held out his only to have the man's strong fingers wrap around his smaller hand in a firm grip.

"Are you a relation to the- er grieving family?" He said his hand lingering around Harry's for a moment longer than was comfortable for him. Harry frowned as his hand was released and nodded slowly.

"He was my uncle; my parents were killed in a car crash so I live with them…" He said drifting his gaze towards where his aunt and cousin stood. The man frowned slightly and nodded his head.

"I am sorry to hear that." He said lifting his hand to remove his sunglasses shocking Harry with the sight of honey colored eyes.

"Umm…did you know my uncle?" Harry said unsure of how to carry on the conversation. The man darted his gaze down his eyes staring into Harry's for a long moment.

"Such beautiful eyes…" he murmured causing Harry to blush and duck his head uncomfortably. "I'm an old friend of your aunts." He said smirking. "It was wonderful meeting you boy; I hope that we will meet again soon…and in better circumstances." He said with a glint in his eye that bothered Harry. The man didn't bother waiting for Harry's reply before making his way towards Aunt Petunia. What was he up to? Harry frowned and shook his head.

"Ah, Mister Potter." A calm voice greeted. Harry turned in shock at having been singled out for a second time. A vaguely familiar elderly man smiled down at him his blue eyes twinkling quietly. "My name is Albus Dumbledore."