AN. Hello, readers (If Any At All). I have taken down my AU HP fanfic Pit Pat for editing and it will be back up when I have finished it and edited it thoroughly enough that I could sell it if I damned well wanted to. Welcome to my new tale. It is a cliched story, partially inspired by a kind reviewer on Pit Pat that liked how my story had little to no cliches, so I've decided to try a cliche-themed story and see how far I can go. My Harry, like always, will be dark, abused, and violent, but I will also attempt to allow him the same ideals as the Gryffindor Harry Potter we know.

An Heir Slithers Once More, a fanfiction by treena-ivy-carter.

Chapter One: Those Without Choice Are Chained

Summary: What if the Sorting Hat didn't give the yet-to-be sorted first years a choice in their Houses? What if there were no Hat Stalls? What if Harry could not choose Gryffindor? What if he was alone? What if he was angry or violent or unstable? The story every HP Writer has to have: a Slytherin!Harry, Dark!Harry.


Harry Potter lifted his head from its bowed position. The entire hall was silent. All eyes were upon him: accusing, shocked, horrified, and indifference appeared amongst the respective faces of the Hogwarts houses.

He stood from the rickety three-legged stool and tried to hand the hat to the wide-eyed, stern woman to his right; she was frozen however briefly in staring at him as if something rather unexpected and quite horrifying had just occured. His Sorting, like the others, took barely twenty seconds, if that. His tear-ducts pricked, but his face was like stone. She finally held out her hand and he gave the worn, talking hat to the petrified woman and looked over his peers.

The kind and presumptuous redhead from the train was pale and aghast. Harry bowed his head, and turned his gaze to the floor. He thought, so much for friends and new beginnings. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and moved to the house table situated under the silver and green banner of a moving, silver snake. The silver snake was obviously some type of cobra, and its hood was moving back and forth as a parody of a greeting wave. Coiled inside of a dark gray basket with silver accents and a cushion that was a forest green, laid the enchanted, cloth snake. The background of the fine cloth was a glinting emerald.

Welcome to the Snake Pit, Hatchling. May you slither along a sly and cunning path?§"

Harry continued to look at the fancy banner as he moved towards the table that stared indifferently at him.

He stopped barely a yard away and hissed in return, "§I understand that I am in this house because my path is meant to be both sly and cunning.§"

The Slytherin Cobra flicked its near-black tongue and replied, "§Ah, Hatchling, all create their own path. It is for you to decide whether or not it is cunning and or sly.§"

He took a seat next to a rather sallow-skinned boy with a long Greek nose, and a coiffure of artfully gelled dark curls. Harry quickly forced an expression of boredom on his features and looked up at his teachers' reactions to his Sorting.

Rubeus Hagrid was staring wide-eyed at him, and then seemed to frown. A wan man, with either highly-gelled hair or extremely greasy hair, and a prominent Roman nose was staring at him almost hatefully. The twitching man from that bar, Quirrell, was staring at him with a peculiar expression. The oddly dressed old man in the middle – the man on the card, Dumbledore – was staring at him worriedly. Others at the staff table didn't seem to care, or were able to hold their expressions better than their colleagues.

Soon, the Sorting was over, and Harry was finally sure he was not going to cry at the Hat's decision.

The sallow boy next to him turned to him and hissed, figuratively not literally, "How did a Potter get into Slytherin?"

Harry stared at him, and a lesser boy would have remained silent and, perhaps, shrugged to avoid confrontation. He cocked his head before tilting it back pompously as if he knew better than everyone around him, as if he was better, "I think it would be quite easy for a potter to get into the Snake Pit, because what does making pots have to do with cunning, ambitions, or slyness?"

The boy glared at him, "You know what I meant!"

Harry looked at him coldly, "No, I don't. I really don't. I don't know what your problem is, but I really shouldn't be it. After all, we're just two kids who happen to share a dorm and a color scheme. What does it matter what my last name is? I wasn't raised by my parents after all, who am I to judge what a Potter is? Who are you to judge what a Potter is?"

Speaking of judgmental idiots, Malfoy sauntered over.

"Well, looky here, Pothead. I told you ya needed to stop hanging around with trash while you still could, and now you end up here? Did you rethink my offer?" He asked mockingly.

Harry sighed and went to bow his head over the table, when he realized a filled plate was in front of him.

He had never…

It wasn't for him, he reasoned. It was for everyone else at the table. When they had finished and had their fill, then he'd consume his portion.

Malfoy's taunts continued, but it was almost as if all sound had drifted away. The sound had been replaced with an odd, unpleasant ringing, not unlike the toll of a train, or the sound of a baby crying. As time slowed down, Harry looked from the towering plates of food and the silverware he had always been denied and then to the pompous, rich, little snot that felt the need to taunt him because, once again, he was the freak. He was so fucking sick of little pointy faced pricks lording their better family life and their higher class over him.

Time sped up and sound returned at the exact same time, his hand brushed the side of the porcelain plat in front of him. He turned suddenly as Malfoy went to grab his shoulder and shake him to regain his attention and suddenly the plate had begun to fly. It impacted and shattered against Malfoy's pale, pinched face. Mounds of mashed potatoes and beef and barbeque and pork and gravy were mushed against the pale boy's front. He was too shocked to move.

In the same spinning movement, Harry grabbed a silver goblet from the rather unfortunate looking girl to his left and smashed it against the temple of the Greek-nosed boy. Before the teachers could determine what had occurred, Harry flung himself against Malfoy's cronies, and grabbed one's arm and placed it around his neck and waist as if the boy had grabbed him and been choking him the entire time.

The taller boy realized his master's attacker was in his grasp and began to choke him. Harry gasped and the teachers assumed position to break up the fight.

Malfoy was kneeling on the floor, covered in goop. Greek-Nose was unconscious on the floor next to him. Harry was being choked by Goon Number 1.

The headmaster assumed to know what had occurred.

Vincent Crabbe was assigned two months' worth of detention on the first day of school.

The three "attack" victims were taken to the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey, the school mediwitch, checked them over and told them that they were all very lucky. If "Vincent" had hit Theodore Nott, the Greek Nose, any harder, he might have suffered irreparable damage to the brain. If Malfoy had been hit by the plate directly on the neck instead of the face and chest, his spine could have snapped, leaving him confined to the wheelchair. Harry could have asphyxiated.

Harry noticed how the witch didn't check for any other bruises or oddities. Idiotic Bitch.

That was the beginning of the first day in hell for Harry Potter, and yet, he had never felt more alive.


After they had been fed in the infirmary, they were sent off to the Slytherin dormitory without an adult escort. It seems that all of the adults in Hogwarts were idiots. How unfortunate.

Harry walked a yard ahead of both of the boys he had assaulted and two yards ahead of the blamed Vincent. He didn't know where exactly the Slytherin dorm room was, but he could guess by the more and more frequent snake carvings on the wall. The three boys behind him were silent and intimidated. They just radiated fear. Harry almost laughed.

Was this why Dudley was so cruel to me? Harry asked himself, Was it because it was this much fun? This feeling of power and control is intoxicating.

Harry stopped suddenly in the middle of the hallway. The boys behind him stopped as well.

"Where are we?" Malfoy asked hesitantly.

Harry almost chuckled, if he could remember how. Instead he simply smirked and turned around. "So, you were just following me? You were just following my lead? Wow, way to take charge baby-Malfoy. Aren't you supposed to be a big bag political honcho? No? Well, I guess it's up to me, again."

He turned and walked to the wall on the left. He looked up at the snake and said, "§Excuse me, the hatchlings over there are lost. We cannot find our nest. Do you know the way?§"

Behind him, the boys gasped in chorus. Haven't they ever seen a wizard talk to a snake before? Harry was sure everyone could do it if they applied themselves. If he could do it, anyone could right? He knew he wasn't special.

The snake on the wall rippled and began to move in a stretching motion, as if it was waking up. It opened its mouth and flicked out a tongue and replied with a strong Italian accent, "§E', 'el-lo, 'at-chling, E' 'tink 'de way is over dere, right pas' the rock and glade scene over yonder way, no?§"

Harry looked to the left and did see a large landscape painting of a boulder in a glade, "§Thank you.§"

Yer well-come, 'at-chling.§" And with that, the snake returned to its slumber as a carving against the wall. Harry deemed to remember that carving, in case it needed anything from him - if a carving could need anything at all.

Harry turned away from the carving and continued down the dungeon corridor. He stood in front of the large blank stone wall and looked up near the ceiling. He extended a hand and rubbed his thumb across the smooth stone, and, as if in response, a cobra similar to the one on the Slytherin tapestry in the Great Hall appeared before him.

The snake hissed, "§Password?§"

Is this the Slytherin Nest?§" Harry meant to say "Common Room" but, like before when he had said "students" and "House" the words seemed to get lost and changed somehow. Perhaps it was for better communication between Wizards and Snakes? He mentally shrugged and pushed the thought from his mind.

Young Salazar did dwell here once with hatchlings not-his-own-but-still-his.§"

I see. I shall confer with hatchlings now, excuse me.§"

Harry turned from the carving and looked down the corridor at the frozen forms of the three boys. He rolled his eyes and said, "Are you coming?"

Malfoy was the first to regain movement and he walked down the corridor, with Nott and Crabbe following behind him. Nott hesitantly asked, "Do you know the password?"

Harry nearly sighed, but didn't. He still didn't know the "rules" of Hogwarts and didn't want to upset the balance by displaying emotion while he was still unsure of whether or not it was allowed. "No, do you?" He directed the question at Malfoy and then looked to Crabbe.

Harry turned back to the blank wall and then back to the boys and said, "Do you believe that the teachers here are the best in the country?"

Malfoy said pompously, "If they weren't, I wouldn't be here."

Harry stared at him, "Is everyone in this country stupid then?" Shouldn't the teachers have realized that they didn't know the password? Idiots, the lot of them.

The boys stared at him silently. Harry nodded exasperatedly, "Apparently, then."

He looked at the snake and said, "§It is the first day after all. Would you be so kind as to just tell us the password, just this once, great King Cobra?§"

The snake turned its head towards Harry, though its eyes were unseeing, and it flared its hood, "§You are one of Salazar's young, so I may allow it.§" It paused and flicked its tongue and flared its hood once more before dissolving into the wall, "§For now. Super terram basilisci ambulabis.§"

The brink in the center at Vincent's eye level, for Vincent was the tallest and largest, slid out of the wall and turned on its side and spun around. All of the bricks along that row and column did the same as intervals, like a massive wave at a football game, the pseudo-wave of bricks moved along the entire wall until they reformed to make an elaborate arch and an ornate double doorway.

Vincent whispered, "That was cool."

Yes, Harry thought, agreeing with the fellow "Hatchling" that had taken the downfall for him, that was very cool.

Draco sniffed arrogantly, "That was not cool, that was magic."

Harry walked forward and pushed open the door.


One of the prefects noticed their arrival and quickly went over the Main Rules of the Great and Noble House of Slytherin. They were carved upon a silver plaque on a large wall visible from all places in the Common Room. Apparently they were stuck to the wall with a permanent "Sticking Charm" – whatever that is. The prefect, whose name Harry promptly forgot, informed them of the rules, and gave them their study schedules and class schedules,

Harry seemed to be the only one in the room visibly confused by both the prefect's terminology, and the rules themselves.

The Main Rules of Slytherin House as found posted in the common room etched into a silver plaque stuck to the wall with a permanent Sticking Charm: (by etherian from her wonderful fanfiction Nobody Cared; I had permission for posting and using these in my own tale)

1. Your House is your family. Family stands together. To one who had never had the luxury of a loving family, such as Harry, the thought of standing aside the fellow brothers and sister of said family seemed like a rather arduous task.

2. The common room does not belong to YOU. It belongs to everyone. Keep it neat. It was understandable how their Head of House wanted their Dorm to be tidy, especially to Harry. Harry had never lived in a house that he had not made spotless.

3. Arguments with another Slytherin are only permitted in Slytherin House. (Refer to the FIRST RULE.) He seemed extremely perturbed by the third rule until he realized fighting was only allowed in the Common Room – at home with the Dursleys, they never "fought" with him outside their own home.

4. Study time is QUIET time and is mandatory. You will receive schedules on a weekly basis.

5. NO ONE is allowed to skip House meetings. House Meetings are almost always scheduled.

7. The Hogwarts House Elves are not your servants. Keeping your dorm rooms and the common room clean is your responsibility. Harry didn't know what a house elf was, but didn't ask. Rule number one for him always was and always would be "don't ask questions."

8. Dorm inspections once a month. These are NOT scheduled. You are forewarned. He assumed dorm inspections were like the humiliating dressing-downs his aunt would do once a week to make sure he wasn't doing anything that would humiliate the Dursleys – such as planning their murders, stealing their money, or planning escape from the hellhole of Number Four Privet Drive.

9. All meals are mandatory. No sweets in your dorms. No sweets after 8pm. Those taking a Nutrition Potion will come to me or Madame Pomfrey once a week. The ninth rule seemed the oddest to Harry, because meals at the Dursleys were always small, cold and stale by the time he was allowed to eat that day, or if he was to eat at all.

10. Bedtimes:

First years - 9pm
Second thru Fourth years - 10pm
Fifth thru Sixth years - 11pm
Seventh years - Midnight

11. Your House is your family. Family stands together.

These are the rules I expect everyone in Slytherin to follow; to the letter. They are, however, not the only rules. You will discover in your seven years here that I will give you further guidelines and rules that you can take past the walls of Hogwarts. From this day forth, you are my children and I will protect you, punish you and teach as I see fit, to ensure that you will make it through Hogwarts and through the rest of your lives.

Finally, never forget the Secret of Slytherin:

Plan in ways a Ravenclaw finds sound
Blend like a Hufflepuff into the background
As for the Gryffindor, learn from their mistakes
And be ready to react, Slytherin, swift as a snake.

Serpens tacitus perspicasis et celeris est

Professor S. Snape

Malfoy, Nott and Crabbe seemed to complain a lot about the majority of the chores for the rules. It seems he was right about how Malfoy was an arrogant, rich prat who deserved to have mashed potatoes shoved onto his stupid perfectly straight and pointy stupid nose. He regretted nothing.

The prefect told them that they'd receive their study schedules by owl every Tuesday morning at breakfast, and that House meetings occurred every time something happened that directly affected the reputation of the House or the entirety or majority of its members. They also happened every Saturday evening at seven. They were to check progress of the House members, and a way to discuss things with other House members of different grade levels. The prefect then handed them their House wristwatch that, instead of numbers, pointed to several activities. Amongst those activities were studying, Potions Class, Charms Class, Transfiguration Class, Quidditch, sleeping, and several others. It seemed rather odd to Harry, but, then again, he wasn't raised around magic.

The prefect then told them how the Slytherin House was the house of the cunning, ambitious and sly. They were the house that embodied all of the others, while rising above them all as well. Afterwards, the nameless prefect then led them down a staircase to a corridor of chambers. The chamber at the very end on the left was unlocked with an old key and was opened to reveal several beds and chests and cupboards inside.

There were six double beds in the large room. They were all identical with satin green sheets and a black and silver lined comforter. The pillows were plump and stuffed with feathers. Beside each bed were end tables on either side of the bloodwood headboard. In the corner of the room laid four open, empty chests, and next to each bed were their luggage. The prefect told them that this would be their room for the next seven years, so they could feel free to do what they liked with it, as long as it didn't bother their roommates too much. In the back of the room was a large, empty, bloodwood wardrobe. On the parallel wall was a shiny, ornate mirror rimmed with a bloodwood frame. In between every pair of beds was a bookshelf, meaning there was a total of three empty bookshelves in the room that extended from the ceiling to the floor. By the door were six desks, chairs, and boxes of candles. On each of the four walls were two silver lampposts that held what the prefect called "Never-Ending" candles.

The walls were a pale silver and were blank and ordinary, outside of the small carved snakes an inch above the floor and an inch from the ceiling. All the carvings were black, moving and hissing.

The walls were gossiping.

It was irritating.

Harry quickly got a headache and would have told the snakes to shut the hell up, if the prefect hadn't said that lights-out was in an hour, and that they had better shower in preparation for the next day. The bathrooms and showers were through a black door by the wardrobe, and Harry was surprised it was not the bloodwood that it had been throughout the room.

As the prefect was leaving, Harry heard the mysterious, dark-skinned "Zabini, Blaise" wish Hydrus LeStrange a good night. What strange names wizards had, but, then again, Harry had never met another "Harry," perhaps some names were more common in the Wizarding World? Were they so common that parents had to name their children ridiculous names for them to have some semblance of individuality?

He immediately spotted his own bed and dragged one of the empty chests over to the edge of his own bed, seeing as that was what Blaise Zabini was doing with his own things. He took out his textbooks and stacked them on his left end table, mirroring the Italian-looking boy across the room.

Draco and his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, hurried off to the washroom to shower. Nott stared at him across the room, but Harry glared at him pointedly and he looked away. Finally, with the room half empty, Harry knelt next to the snake carvings and hissed, "§Shut up before I cut you in half and shatter you.§"

The little snake hissed back – no words this time, but an actual try for dominance. Time didn't even slow this time, it just quickened violently as his eyes tightened. Harry went over to his trunk, flipped it on its side over the bed so his belongings fell to the floor next to his bed in a loud tumble. He nimbly jumped over the mess seeing as he had practiced with Dudley's trash in his second bedroom and picked up the penknife Hagrid insisted he needed. Harry continued over to the wall, seemingly unaware of the eyes that had been drawn to him as he knelt once more besides the seam between the wall and flooring. He hissed again, his penknife poised at the snake's swishing tail, "§Be silent. Are you a simple garden snake rolling in the mud?§" Harry meant to call him an imbecile not even fit to beat dung beetles in intelligence, but once again the words had gotten lost somewhere between them.

The idiotic snake hissed back defiantly, still without words. Harry smirked and dug his knife across the snake carving. A screech sounded throughout the room. Harry dropped the knife after carving several lines through the defiant garter snake. He was breathing harshly before looking at the other carvings that were frozen in staring at their fallen compatriot. He hissed again, suddenly polite, "§Oh look what you've made me do. I've made such a mess. Aunt Petunia is going to be very angry at me. Now bite your hisses when I demand your silence, alright? Good, I'm glad we could come to an understanding.§"

As Harry calmly stood while rubbing his heated face and adjusting his glasses, he realized that the remaining two boys in the room were staring at him, almost frozen in fear. Harry's ears turned pink and he was glad for his all-over-the-place hair for it hid his shame. He said quietly, "Sorry about that. It wouldn't stop talking even after I asked it to be quiet. Surely you were annoyed, too, weren't you? It was so loud and obnoxious – just worthless gossip, and now? Now, it is quiet. Everything is much better when it's quiet." His voice was slighter higher, and if they had been paying attention, it would have given away his unease with them in the room, and his slight panic at the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside of him like a hurricane. To one who had never had the luxury of showing emotion freely, the be allowed, even for just one night, was enough to destroy careful walls that hid those dangerous emotions away.

The two boys continued to stare at him in silence. And in the night, Harry could hear them whispering to each other. He was almost disappointed that it would be nearly impossible to befriend them now

No one noticed as a black, ink-like substance began to drip from the scratch marks in the wall. No one noticed as the silver doorknob of their chambers for the next seven years began to form the emerald outline of a snake. No one noticed when the emerald eyes of every snake carving in the school began to glow for a brief moment. No one noticed when the eyes of the snake on the Slytherin badge began to shine. No one noticed, deep below the school, when the large carving of Salazar Slytherin opened its mouth as his jeweled eyes glowed colder than an Avada Kedavra and his silver hair glittered once more. No one noticed when the basilisk awoke, seeking her newest master. No one noticed at all, except a man in a turban, when the face hidden behind it whispered a chilling tone in time with the rest of the underground signs Salazar had left behind, "§An heir slithers once more.§"

AN. I have a few ways this could go - the standard Harry-that's-the-same-as-the-books-but-is-friends-with-Slytherins (totally impossible), we have the Dark!Harry route that I'm fond of, we have Violent!Harry, etc. I like Violent!Unstable!Harry. He's very fun to get to know.

The password for the dorms, Super terram basilisci ambulabis translates to "You shall tread upon the land of the basilisk." The grammar is correct; I took Latin in High School. It was my favorite class besides English.