Oh, wow. I know, I know, I'm a terrible author and I deserve to be shunned but I just want to say that the only reason I've not been writing at all is because I have so much inspiration for another story. And that story is not fanfiction. However, I really do want to get back into it and so... Ta-da! This is so weird for me as normally I don't like changing the Canon story too much but... Well I hope you all like it.

Now, this story is going to be written in total and utter AU where Tom Riddle was simply a happy little boy and he grew to learn magic the good way and everybody lived happily ever after. All right, so I know that's a little bit boring for Harry Potter to be living in a universe like that, but I want to play with his character, not the story line.

If you don't like it, don't read it.

The thing is, I've seen so many authors try and write Harry as a Slytherin and most of the time I don't really like it. So I've decided to write one I will like.

This is my Slytherin Harry. OOC on purpose and not at all something I intend to be successful. I'm just bored.

I hope you enjoy! Pinkieponk xx

A Slytherin Story

A sixteen year old boy sat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Stupid parents, he thought, stupid life.

He'd once again been banished to his room for his "poor behaviour" and he was starting to get tired of it.

Just because he wasn't what his parents had hoped him to be… Just because he picked Slytherin.

Harry Potter knew he wasn't bad. He just had his opinions and liked to share them sometimes.

Okay so a little more than sometimes.

But they were harmless opinions and harmless actions.

Most of the time.

The thing is, Harry wasn't used to being treated as though he was small or inconsequential.

At Hogwarts, it was he who decided who was who and who deserved a good hex.

That was just the way that school worked.

Harry was smart, charming, good-looking and powerful; people either loved or feared him.

Normally it was the latter. Only the Slytherins thought he was King.

The rest of the houses was simply scared of him but it was the Gryffindors who decided they wanted to fight back.

That's why they were the most interesting to pick on.

Long story short, Harry liked to play with power. It was fun.

It just generally meant teachers and adults found him arrogant and self-possessed which Harry never really did try to deny.

Because it meant he was getting on their nerves and that was the entire point of being "arrogant and self-possessed".

So, naturally, he just couldn't understand how spiking his father's drink with a vial of the Draught of Living Death he'd brewed the previous year was bad or "poor behaviour".

It was only a practical joke.

Yes, all right. Granted, he'd added just a tad too much. Maybe his hand had accidentally slipped a little too far than he'd originally intended.

But it wasn't harmful to James. He'd live.

And did Lily really have to react so harshly?

It wasn't Harry's fault he was bored, what with not being able to contact his friends.

That privilege had been taken away two years back when he'd been discovered sending letters to his relatives with pockets of exploding talcum powder, a little home invention he'd cooked up during fourth year.

It wasn't a bad thing to do, necessarily. The only downside was that Harry had added a dash of red dye to the concoction that apparently didn't come out even with the most powerful cleaning materials.

He couldn't deny it was funny to see Aunt Petunia's narrow face stained a vivid red but, of course, there had been consequences.

But again. It wasn't as though Harry had meant to cause his aunt harm.

He was only really interested in a laugh and possibly some public humiliation along the way.

Harmless, really.

'Harry James Potter!' Harry sat up, glaring automatically at the door.

His father was awake and mad.

'Yes father?' Harry called back, his voice pleasantly sarcastic.

'Get yourself down here, young man, or you're grounded!'

Harry jumped up and strode to the door, opening it so he could yell a little louder.

'Ooh! I'm so scared! You're going to ground me, one day away from school!' he called down the stairs.

'I can just as easily take away your wand, mister!'

'Again! I'm sure that'd work just awesomely, what with school starting up tomorrow.'

'You'll just have to go without a wand.'

'As if you'd be man enough to do that!' Harry laughed cruelly.

'Get down here now or I'll come up and get you myself. Then you'll see how man I can be!'

Rolling his eyes, he sighed.

Making sure to cause as much noise as possible, Harry stepped down the stairs, taking his time as he went.

He may have to go and face his parents, but he was certainly going to make it just that little more inconvenient.

In the kitchen, Lily and James Potter were weary.

They just didn't know what to do with their son.

He was bright, but he often skipped class. He got seven Outstanding's and a total of ten O.W.L.s the previous year but he still refused to use his brain for something productive.

He was gifted in a lot of ways other children weren't but he used his talents for terrorising younger students or other activities that usually landed him in Detention.

Lily and James were just counting their lucky stars that Harry hadn't been suspended. Yet.

The only person who seemed able to get through to him, was Sirius but even then, Harry hardly listened. Only when he knew it was crucial.

Otherwise…

As he stomped into the kitchen, Harry flopped into a chair, his arms handing limply by his side and his glasses crooked.

'What?' he asked bluntly.

'Don't talk back to your father,' said Lily firmly.

'How is that talking back if I started the conversation?' asked Harry.

Lily frowned at her son.

'How about you be quiet and listen while we're trying to help?'

'Help? You call this help?' sneered Harry. 'All you do is sit around all day wishing for a different son, never missing one opportunity to tell me you're not happy with the son you've got. How is that help? Mother?'

'Talk again to your mum like that and I'll have your tongue hexed off,' snapped James. 'Now listen.'

Harry raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

'What did you think you were doing when you put that Draught in my coffee?' asked James.

'You just answered your own question,' said Harry lazily.

'I don't mean it like that and you know it,' said James. 'What in Merlin's name was going through your mind?'

'You really want to know? Fine. It was: Gee I hope the weather's nice today. That's what was going through my mind.'

'There no need to be sarcastic young man.'

'That wasn't sarcasm, it was wit.'

'Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.'

'Second only to dissing your son.'

James seethed.

'Go to your room now and don't even bother coming out until you're ready to say sorry.'

'Then I wouldn't expect me around until I'm seventeen and able to move out.'

'Go!'

'All right… all right.'

Harry got up and without a second glance strode back up the stairs into his room.

In the kitchen, Lily collapsed in a chair, sighing.

James put his hand to her hair, trying to comfort her.

But it was no use.

Back upstairs, Harry smirked to himself.

See that's the thing about his and his parents' arguments. Harry could always somehow find a way out.

It was a talent, something he'd grown to appreciate.

He was only hoping for the day to finally finish so he could get back to Hogwarts.

All right, so what did y'all think? I like it... If you don't, then review. And if you do, then review. Please. Anyway, I hope to see you all in the next Chapter. I can assure you this will be Hinny so don't worry! I really hope you all enjoyed it. Don't forget to favourite, follow and review (man I haven't written that in a while, have I? It's good to be back) and I'll post more as soon as possible. Pinkieponk xx