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Insert usual disclaimer here (aka, I own nothing except the strange ideas from my own head)

Harry woke up with a groan, thinking about the masses of chores that awaited him when he finally rolled out of bed. He just wouldn't think about it. Slowly, a hand snaked out from under his threadbare blanket and felt around for the pair of glasses that should have been somewhere close by. Nothing. Shit, this just wasn't his day. It wasn't as though he couldn't see without his glasses; they were only really useful to ward off any incoming headaches. The thing was, he knew that if he couldn't find them now, they would of course be somewhere where his family would do something to them or -

Crunch.

-or that.

"Arrrrhg! I just got those! "

"Boy you'd better be getting up now! You're late!" A high pitch voice carried up, only slightly muffled by the door. Well, at this point he might as well try his hand. Dragging the blanket around him, Harry curled up into a ball, glaring at the door. He dared the world to make him wake up. The glare lessened a bit as footsteps got closer.

"What do you think you're doing! Hurry up!" The voice grated. "You have to do the chores this morning, so you'd better not be thinking of playing hookie!"

"I don't feel well, I'm not-"

"DAMN SURE YOU'RE NOT FEELING WELL YOU NO GOOD SLIMY FR-"

"PAMALA WINDSLEY! YOU'D BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN ABOUT TO SAY WHAT I THOUGHT YOU WERE, YOUNG LADY!" Another female voice broke in, getting louder as the 'speaker' got closer. Mrs. Windsley stood at the doorframe, a slightly frustrated look on her face. "What have I told you about bothering your brother in the mornings!"

The young girl looked suitably chastised, blue orbs looking at her feet for a moment. "Not to?" They quickly looked back up in defiance. "But it isn't my fault! It's Harry's turn to take out the garbage, and he's just-"

Harry turned on his 'pity me' voice, and shifted weakly under the covers before rasping, "I'm just not feeling well, Pam. You know I'd do them if I could, it's just that I-" which is as far as he got before his body shook with coughs.

"You liar! You were perfectly fine a few minutes ago!" Her rosy cheeks coloured deeper in anger as she stomped her foot, blonde hair flitting as she moved. Stupid brother!

From his bed, Harry tried hard not to laugh. She was just too easy to rile up! As she continued to make a fuss, he could see exactly how this would play out. Now, if only he could get her to stop a little closer to himself…

" It's alright, really I'll just-" He started to push himself off the bed, an exaggerated grunt dispelling from his mouth as he straightened up. "-get to it now. I wouldn't want my little sister to have to-" now! His eyes flashed slightly as he dropped forward what could only have been a moment of weakness, starting to cough again.

"Harry! Dear, are you alri-" His mother came forward to hold him as he continued his coughing fit, reaching out and-

Crack.

Score, new glasses.

"But he probably planned it! Just look at him, so pleased with himself!"

A heavy sigh. Mrs. Windsley rubbed her temples before looking down at her 13 year old daughter. Well, at least she had her Harry. Even if both children were adopted at when they were about one, Pamela two years before Harry, Harry was just so much more mature and calm. But she couldn't fault Pam for it when it was obvious he was just beyond his years. She was still a child, only ever acting like her brother when she wanted something desperately. And even then, she usually got him to help her with it. "Hunny, you know that isn't true. He just got those glasses, and you know as much as me that he absolutely loved them. And the poor boy…" She carried off, twining her fingers into her bronze hair as she remembered his coughing. "Maybe I should get him some cough medicine…"

Pouting, the blonde stalked towards the stairs, but not without stopping for a moment to shoot an annoyed glare over her shoulder at her brother's smirking face. He'd done it again, although she had to admit to herself as her mother closed the door that this time was a work of art. Usually he just used the voice and some puppy dog eyes. Maybe he really was…No way in hell. Her brother just knew how to get what he wanted, and once in a while what she wanted. One of these days, she'd get around to copying the actions he used to got their parents so whipped. One of these days…

Authors note: Woohoo This is my first attempt at an HP fanfiction, although I must say I've dallied my life away in front of this screen reading them. I'd love any reviews you guys can throw my way, criticism or love~

The idea for this story came from a conversation my friends and I had about how useless a lot of the Slytherins were when it came to manipulation in the HPverse…and don't look at me like that, you know it's true. There are so many more little kids that are more manipulative! I mean, really. Look at your neighbour's kid and tell me they didn't somehow manipulate their parents into buying that (insert toy here) you always see them with. Every week or so. And so, Harry Potter is a relatively normal, average muggle. Meaning, an amazing slytherin.

Oh, and for those of you who are worried about the lack of Harry and the abundance of the OCs in this chapter, don't worry!~ The OCs are only there to get this initial reaction across, they will be seen much less in any coming chapters 3