A/N: This is a story written on the basis of the question, what would have happened if no one supported Harry openly when his name came out of the Trriwizard cup. Will he break or will he embrace his Slytherin side which helped him to survive the Dursleys for ten years without any help? Will anyone help him in his ordeal or leave him be? Will he forgive his friends or make them pay? Includes mild Hermione and Weasley Bashing initially, as a part of charecter building. You are warned beforehand, so any Weasley fans, bear with it for a while.

A/N: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling because if it belonged to me, Harry would be in Slytherin and smart enough to control his infamous temper.

Prologue

6th November, 1994

Harry Potter was not in a good mood. Even the beautiful afternoon atmosphere did not lift his mood. The past week has been a complete disaster. Granted, ever since his return to the magical world, he always faced some disaster on Halloween, but this year topped the list. He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice when Ron- no, Weasley, he reminded himself though it pained his heart to think so, came over to the place as though he owned it and nastily spat at him "Oh, look, what do we have here? The boy-who-loves-his-fame... What are you doing here Potter? "

"Look, Ron, How many bloody times should I tell you that I did not place my name in the cup you utter prat. Also, if you can't see...?"

"-The same excuse as always," Ron cut him off. "Now, shut up and get the hell out unless you want me to beat the hell out of you like I did that day... You know, I don't understand how you are a Griffindor after all the things you do to seek attention...".

Harry tuned out whatever Weasley was saying and left the common room to find a place where he can mind his own business without being bothered, only to run into Herm-no, Granger. His heart gave another painful twinge when she totally ignored him and gave him that patronising look as though he had done something wrong, and then left without even bothering to speak to him. It pained him to think that the friends he trusted with his life were so shallow. He spoke to them once his name came out of the triwizard cup that he was not the one to put his name in it, when Ron outright blamed him for not telling him before and Hermione spoke in the same tone of voice she used before taking the firebolt to Mc gonagall last year that he should not have broken the rules the way he did. Their argument went too far and both of them said pretty nasty things to him- no, he did not want to revisit that memory.

From that eventful day, everything went in a downward spiral, no one spoke to him anymore, the Griffindors hated him for being the fourth champion, the Hufflepuffs hated him for stealing their thunder, the Slyhterins hated him just because he did not die with his parents and offed their Dark lord, like they needed any other reason to hate him, and he still had no idea why the Ravenclaws hated him, though that might be because most of them were good friends with Slytherins, just that they did. They were all avoiding him like the plague and he did not know what he could do to make them believe he was not lying, and indeed did not put his name in the cup. Strangely, with the bullying by the older Slytherins and the lack of help from anyone else; usually he had help from his quidditch team, so no one ever bothered him much; he was reminded of his time before Hogwarts with Dudley, though then, he at least could find his asylum somewhere in library. Here, he couldn't even think of a place where he can find a peace of mind. What with all the 'Potter stinks' badges in the tower; he knew that those badges were supported by Ron, he saw him distributing them in the common room though there were few who did not take them, he was just glad for small mercies; that place lost all its appeal. He never felt so isolated, even the abuse with Dursleys never got to him, after all the hits from those you trusted always hurt the most and he never trusted the Dursleys with so much as his nails, let alone his loyalty from the moment he understood they only acted as such to make him as miserable as possible. Now-a-days, he resorted to sleeping in the sofas of the common room instead of the dorms, the day after Halloween, someone put itching powder in his clothes, causing him to land in the hospital wing with furious rashes. He did not think it was the twins, they gave him the antidote to that itching powder once they visited him and told that they believed in him, though they can't exactly proclaim it unless they wish to live as outcasts themselves. He can understand their sentiment, but that did not make him feel happy, though it uplifted his spirits a bit. Neville also trusted him, in essence saying the same things as the twins, and wished him luck in the tournament.

So lost in thoughts that he did not notice where he was, before just wishing for a place where he can find his true friends, not the ones who would abandon him just because of some baseless rumours, when he saw Draco Malfoy with some older Slytherins firing something at him. He thought that it was a stunner, it was red in colour and raised his shield, protego, had to learn it to protect himself recently with all the shit Slytherin has been putting him through, as there were at least three of those spells but did not expect one of them to cross his shields and he felt like his entire body was on fire. He never felt that amount of pain even after his uncle's constant 'lessons-a-freak-should-learn' and felt like sobbing, but did not want to give them the satisfaction. He was immediately reminded of Moody's lesson on the unforgivables and knew instinctively that this was the cruciates curse. He did not know how long they held it for but was damn proud of himself that he did not utter a single tear or yelp during the entire ordeal. This entire thing along with the torture curse was too much for him to take and he felt something in him snap and noticed that his magic lashed out instinctively. He did something to protect himself though he did not know what it was and the bullies were backing away from him. That was the last thing he saw before losing his consciousness.

He sat up shakily after sometime to notice the absence of Malfoy's goons and a Slytherin Prefect. He did not know what happened, but he assumed Malfoy and his buddies left him alone after his accidental outburst, probably scared him enough to leave. She was staring at him as though she was seeing a very interesting specimen and told him in what could be considered a drawl, "Potter, you might want to go to the hospital wing, you have uncontrollable tremors as though you have fits..."

"Thanks, I will be fine by myself, I don't need your help with this," he snapped at her. He was not in a mood to deal with more Slytherins right now and he needed some breathing space. Noticing that he was still twitching violently, she said, "As you wish, but I will be informing the professors that you were caught out of bounds. Also, detention," she retorted and left him there. He was feeling really drained and finding it painful to even move. Deciding that it was a bad idea to have left the tower without his cloak and map, he had been carrying him every day from the moment he noticed that no one in the castle exactly liked him much to help him from bullying, he slowly stood up and had to withhold a painful gasp, his right leg was broken and he had few broken ribs too, he found it too painful to move, nothing new except the cruciates, his dear relatives ensured that. Finding an empty classroom just a few steps away from him, he went in there and promptly lost consciousness again.

When he regained his consciousness, he had to hold a gasp, he was not in the room he found himself in, the previous day; he was in a very beautiful place with many creatures roaming around. He could see the ocean waves hitting the soft white sand in front of him, the lush meadows on his right and the tall trees behind him. On his left, he saw a couple of buildings and had to hold a gasp, they were the most magnificent buildings he ever saw and that was when comparing them to Hogwarts. Then, he immediately got reminded that he was not at Hogwarts anymore, and he had no idea where he was. Deciding to find some human civilisation, he started to walk towards those buildings. He had to find a way to return to Hogwarts, unless he wanted to lose his magic, not that anyone now would miss him or even notice his absence, he thought bitterly to himself. The fact that his limbs were still twitching at times indicated that the earlier curse's effects were still being felt by him, if that was pointedly ignored, for the first time in a long while, he felt completely free in this place, like he was in his home. This feeling was something he had only back at Hogwarts, and that was before all the torture he had to endure the past week. But he reminded himself, no, never again would he hope for something he knew he would not obtain, like a home for himself or friends to trust. The fact that his trust was broken so cruelly by his so called loyal friends still pained him, and it was worse than the cruciates he felt yesterday. Though he had support, he knew that if they had to choose, the twins and Neville also would not choose him even if they wanted to, as they would be targeted as well. "So much for Griffindor bravery," he thought to himself, "despite their loyalty, they were certainly not brave, instead of Griffindor, they should have been in Hufflepuff. Even Slytherins are loyal to their own." Indeed he noticed that never did the Slytherins quarrel with each other in public, unlike the other houses where every fight was public knowledge to the rumour mill. Not even once did he notice any Slytherin quarrels, since his first year. He had a good idea what all that was about, the hat did not suggest Slytherin just because of his ambition, his stay at the Durseleys ensured that he had the cunning required to get into Slytherin, despite his naive thoughts back then.

"I would not go into that palace if I were you," he heard someone speak. Startled, he turned towards the voice, thinking to himself that it was sudden. He did not understand what language the person was speaking, he hoped it was a person, he did not want to fall into a weird situation again. Though, finding himself in the middle of nowhere itself was weird according to normal standards. In front of him was an old man with a beard as long as Dumbledore, holding a light staff in his hand to support himself. He could not see this man completely, only his face, he was behind the trees, slowly approaching him. What was strange about this old man was his eyes, they were changing colours so rapidly that he could not notice their actual colour. They were mesmerising, if he had to be honest with himself, like glittering diamonds. He tried to introduce himself, but he could not, he knew only English. The old man came closer to him and he had to withhold a gasp. Now that he was close enough, he could see the glittering scales on his hands, the snake –like slits in his eyes, and fangs in his mouth. He suddenly felt his throat dry, this old man somehow reminded him of the basilisk that tried to kill him in his second year, though was definitely not sixty feet in length, he joked in the deepest recesses of his mind to lighten the situation. Deciding to go over his current predicament again, he noted all the potential problems as of now.

Here he was, in a place where he was but a stranger, trapped with a snake-like man, who was looking at him with a great deal of interest. He was certain that this was going to be where he would die; after-all, didn't he run out of his luck by the last week? Even if by some miracle, he managed to live, he was struck in a place which was decidedly not Hogwarts, neither did it look like anywhere close to Scotland. It was very much an isolated island, on which there was supposedly no civilisation; he did not see anyone close by; not that his sight was something that great, he always remembered having a bad sight. This meant that he will be losing his magic the moment the triwizard tournament's first event starts. "At least, that will please everyone in the school," he thought to himself viciously. Decided to take a gamble, he imagined the old man to be a real snake, that was not difficult at all, and spoke to him in parseltongue, "$Greetingsss, sssir, Who are you? I am Harry Potter...$" he waited with his breath held for the old man to respond to his question. Or at least he hoped that the person would respond, if not he just signed his death warrant as snake-like hisses were definitely not something a sane person would consider as a language unless he actually knew the language.

$speech$ is parseltongue.

Italicized text is Gaelic. Translated so using google translate. The meanings are as follows:

1. I would not go into that palace if I were you

So, How was it? Reviews are appreciated.