(A/N) I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.

What if Harry Potter got sorted into Slytherin.

Prologue

'Potter, Harry', said an inquiring looking McGonagall.

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

'Potter, did she say?'

'The Harry Potter?'

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the Hall full of people craning to get a better look at him. next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited, hardly knowing what to expect. The fact that most people jumped up the moment the hat was placed on their heads was not a good sign.

'Hmm,' said a small voice in his ear. 'Difficult, very difficult... Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting ... So where shall I put you?' Harry gripped the edges of his stool and sat petrified not daring to move, cold sweat broke out and thought, 'I really hope I don't throw up and make a fool of myself.' The hat continued 'you also have a desire for strong friends, yes - Better be SLYTHERIN!'
Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He sat on the stool for a while, till he realized he had to give it up to the next to be sorted. In a haze, Harry slowly walked to the table second to the right, he was rather happy the hat had chosen him, but still couldn't help feel rather nauseous of the prospect of being a Slytherin. He hardly noticed the deathly silence, as the only thing he heard was the resonated sound of the hat saying Slytherin mingled with his heartbeat. 'There must have been a mistake', a boy named Finnigan said breaking the silence, starting a wave of confused murmur. Marcus Flint, the Slytherin prefect he met on the train got up to shake his hand and congratulated him bringing pride to Slytherin and sat down next to a dark-haired girl by the name of Daphne, which he gave a the slightest weak smile. The appearance of the gaunt faced ghost with silver blood stained robes flying up at him, stopped his trains of thoughts, all working hard to be the dominant one. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just got soaked by a bucket of ice-cold water. The latter part was not far from reality as a dark skinned boy by accident splattered some pumpkin juice in his face, extending his muscled hand in his direction, 'Theodore Nott,' he began 'Just call me Theo, good luck in Slytherin.'

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end on the other side he saw Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him huge smile. And there in the centre of the High Table , in a large golden chair, sat Albus Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling like mad through his half moon spectacles in the candlelight. Harry recognized him at once from Chocolate Frog card on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole Hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking peculiar in a large purple turban.

Harry looked at Ron now, who turned a pale shade of green, so green it would make a Slytherin jelous. Ron was staring at him and their eyes connected, Ron looked ghastly, as if all hope had left the world. By now only three people left to be sorted. 'Turpin, Lisa' became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He looked as if he was marching to his own funeral and hardly a second after he had put the hat on his head it shouted, 'GRYFFINDOR!' Ron hobbled towards the table where all the Gryffindors were sorted with a look of relief. Last to be sorted was 'Zabini, Blaise', who sorted a Slytherin sat down on the across from Harry. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. When Harry looked down at his empty gold plate, realizing for the first how hungry he really was. The pumpkin pasties he shared with Ron seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet. He was beaming at the students his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. 'Welcome!' he said. 'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!', he bowed graciously before he sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered and Harry couldn't help but laugh. 'He is crazy, isn't he?' said Malfoy, who he had spoken to on the train previously, laughingly to Harry. Harry felt some of he previous uncertainties disappear and laughed back saying 'He quite certainly is!'.

A new roar of excitement went up and Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs, roast frogs, tripe, a dish full of roast pepers and quite a few foods he couldn't put a name to. The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he had never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything, including the humbugs and some weird shape-shifting pudding as if it didn't exactly know what is should be and began to eat. It was all delicious.

'That does look good,' said the ghost with the bloodstains politely, Harry could hear a slight hint of sadness in his voice, watching Harry cut up his steak. 'Don't you -?' 'I haven't eaten for nearly a thousand years,' said the ghost.'I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself. 'I know who you are!' said Blaise suddenly. 'My sister told me about you - you're the Bloody Baron' The Bloody Baron looked horribly offended and said 'I would prefer you to call me -' the ghost began stiffly, when Draco Malfoy sneered. 'Why are you covered in blood?' The Bloody Baron looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted. 'Because I died covered in blood,' he said irritably, and added 'So - new Slytherins! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship. We have got the cup six years in a row now! I'd be disappointed if you make us lose now I'd certainly not want to give that Nick the pleasure, he couldn't even get his head chopped off - he's that jealous Gryffindor ghost.', he added in an afterthought flying of to the other Slytherins.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the puddings appeared. Blocks of icecream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rive pudding ...

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

'I am a pureblood,' said Malfoy proudly, 'My father is a Hogwarts governor.'

'Nice,' said Blaise, 'how about you Parkinson'

'Well, I'm a pureblood too.' She looked at Harry inviting him to answer.

On the other side of the table, Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini were talking about how they really felt like doing new spells. They talked about some minor jinxes and curses they wanted to know to do. It was amusing to watch how they looked at each other flirtingly.

Harry was starting to feel warm and sleepy, happy he is around nice people and being away from the Dursleys, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. It happend very suddenly. The pale teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes with a look of utter disgust and hate - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. 'Ouch!' Harry clapped a hand to his head. 'What is it?' asked Daphne. 'N-nothing.' The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher's look - a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all. 'Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?' He asked Daphne, saying 'I think that is Professor Snape, he's the head of our house. He teaches Potions, but he'd rather have Quirrell's job - Everyone knows he should have got it. He knows a lot about the Dark Arts.' Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn't look at him again.

At last, the plates and puddings disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent. 'Ahem - just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. 'First-Years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. and a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.'

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the red-haired Weasley twins.

'I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors and has asked me, for the twohunderd and sixty-fifth time to present you the list of forbidded items, which can be found on our caretakers office door.'

'Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch, their quidditch captain, or their head of house.'

'And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.'
Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

'He's not serious?' he muttered to Daphne.

'Must be,' said Daphne, frowning at Dumbledore. 'It's odd, because he didn't give a reason why we are not allowed to go somewhere, how about finding out why we can't go to the third-floor corridor' she muttered to him exitedly.

'And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!' cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed and heard some groans erupting in the hall. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick as if he was trying to get a fly off the end and a long golden ribbon flew out of it which rose high above the tables and twisted itself snake-like into words. 'Everyone pick their favorite tune,' said Dumbledore, 'and off we go!'
And the school bellowed:

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do you best, we'll do the rest,
and learn until our brains all rot.

Harry, Daphne and Blaise sang, giggilingly in a quick walz theme. Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they had finished he was one of those who clapped loudest.
'Ah, music,' he said, wiping his eyes. 'A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot! Pip pip!'

The Slytherin first-years followed Marcus through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and down the marble staircase.

Harry's legs were like lead after his first real meal in a long time, but managed to keep pace between Blaise and Daphne. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along te corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that Marcus twice led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They descended more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much further they had to go when they came to a sudden quiet halt.

A bundle of walking sticks were floating in mid-air ahead of them and as Marcus took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. 'Peeves,' Marcus whispered to the first-years. 'A poltergeist.' He raised his voice, 'Peeves - show yourself.' A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon answered. 'Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?' There was a pop and a little man with wicked dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching walking sticks. 'Ooooooh!' he said, with an evil cackle. 'Ickle firsties! What fun! Mean, treacherous, Slithery firsties, off to trouble?' He swooped suddenly at them throwing his walking sticks of Marcus' head. They all ducked. 'Go away, Peeves, or the Baron will hear about this, I mean it!' barked Marcus. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour and screaming like he was suffocating as he passed. 'You want to watch out for Peeves,' said Marcus, as they set off again. 'The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, that troublemaker won't even listen to us Slytherin prefects.'

They went down another few corridors till they stepped into the torchlight of the dungeons. After they followed Marcus through a secret passageway he said 'Here we are.'

At the very end of the passageway was a very solid looking stone wall.

'Lux aureus,' Marcus said 'remember that well, that is our password; you don't want to spend the night out here.', and the wall turned into a great gate, slowly moving upwards opening up into a passageway with a green and silver carpet and fiery torches. The sound of gurgling water didn't help keep Harry awake as he pushed his way through it in half sleep and found himself in the Slytherin common room. It was a stately and big round room full of squashy armchairs and a big fireplace. there were many paintings, with one of them a great serpent strangling a whale and everything was coated in green and silver. 'Look there' Pansy's shrill voice piped, Harry and the other first-years looked around in awe at the wall to their left, the wall was a big, glass sheet opening up into the lake, at a bank of seaweed and pink tentacled squidlike creatures, till Marcus led the girls through one door to their dormitories: Pansy, Tracey and Dapne to one room and Millicent, Jasmin and , and the boys to theirs, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle up one staircase and Potter, Nott and Zabini through another. At the bottom of the spiral staircase, they found their beds at last: three enormous beds with deep-green, quite like the green of Daphne's eyes, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pyjamas and fell into bed.

Harry was unable to sleep after all the rich food, and sat staring out of the window into the depths of the black lake, watching fish all the while patting his snowy white owl Hedwig with its small brown eyes. He thought about the day, all the new magic and the new people he met. Harry felt happy that there were nice Slytherins, unlike what Ron said, and, now, the Dursleys felt like a memory far away, just to be found hidden maliciously in a diary.

'Harry,' Blaise whispered 'fancy a game of exploding snap?'

'Yeah' Harry said, and they woke a sleepy Theodore up.

They taught Harry the rules, and after their sixth game, and a whole bunch of laughing, Blaise accidentally set his hair on fire, they all felt so tired, that they almost fell asleep on the floor, and had to drag themselves back into their beds.

'Great food, isn't it?' Theodore muttered to Harry through the hangings. Harry was going to ask Theodore if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once. Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's tuban, which kept talking to him, telling him he should go back to the Durleys at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to go back; It got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it - then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Harry awoke, sweating and shaking in his comfortable bed, thought about Blaise, Ana Helmdottir, who would visit him at the Dursleys and was one of the few sane people he met in his time there. He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.

(A/N)
Tell me what you think, does this set the right tone, do you like it?
I'm thinking about making the Slytherins humane characters, except for Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle
I want to make Neville the chosen one (even though Voldemort chose Harry), then the books can still progress, what is your opinion
Should Harry and Ron be friends?
As I don't want to put Harry in a dorm with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle could you suggest some (2-4) new names for the new boy characters and possibly (3-5) new girl ones?
Who do you think Ana is?
I'm going to slowly going into AU.