Little Harry Potter did not have many, or really any friends at all. The primary reason for this was the Make-Harry-Suffer campaign Dursleys had been running since Harry could walk. The parents talked ill of Harry wherever, whenever they could meanwhile the son beat Harry up and threatened anyone who dared to approach the lonely boy.
So Harry socialized with snakes.
Somehow.
He talked to them.
By hissing.
Yeah, Harry was probably one of those people who had something loose in their heads, though there were a few things that allowed him to hang to the belief that he was completely sane.
For one, snakes actually seeked him out. While Harry was busy with the garden, some of the ones he had came across in the town before would visit, and the ones Harry never met would come to take a peek because apparently he was the hot topic of the snake street. The snakes were no doubt not hallucinations as he had witnessed one unfortunate cat obsessed old lady who lived across the street scream her lungs out after he had challenged a snake to prank her. Plus, their body language fit what they spoke of.
So one day, while he was sitting in the local park and listening to a dozen of snakes comparing their biggest hunts, the topic of the conversation happened to turn into Harry.
"I have not seen you do magic in all these years I have known you, friend," hissed one huge Burmese phyton. British pet owners really ought to pay more attention to locking the cages, Harry mused. He explained to the snake that he had no idea what it was talking about.
That got all of them to stop bickering and focus on him. One elder snake slithered forward. "You do not know what magic is?" It asked with bafflement.
Harry sucked in a deep breath. He knew what magic was, what he also knew was that magic wasn't real. The elder snake looked extremely bothered as it came to realize this, and one throughout explanation was launched before poor Harry could object. The snakes loved their old mysterious tales, they narrated them with respect and expected them to be listened with respect. Harry had no choice.
Turned out, there was a whole wizarding society except they didn't want to be found out by normal people so they hid using cool magic. They used wands, everything was super convenient, there were potions and magical animals and many other cool stuff. There was also a school that was like a thousand years old up in Scotland which every magical brat attended. This was the part of the the story that was the most interesting to Harry, as he learned of a man named Salazar Slytherin.
Mr. Slytherin was everything a boy could want to be. He was the man that built that school, no matter the amount of credit he allowed his three minions to receive. He was the strongest, the smartest, simply the best, a god among men and very humble to the boot. Harry was simply amazed of this man of myths and listened in awe as the snakes continued praising, or to be more accurately describing, the best wizard to ever set foot on earth. Mr. Slytherin had been also a parselmouth, which meant he could talk to snakes like Harry could.
Excitement flowing in and out of his body, Harry hissed to the snakes, "So? How do I do magic? I want to be like him!"
The snakes collectively muttered stuff about having lots and lots of thing to teach.
..............................
Years later, as one intelligent hat was thrown over his head, Harry could barely control his... anticipation.
The hat could only utter some greetings into his mind before Harry burst out, "Slytherin! Put me there!" which more than a few eyebrows were raised and mouths were opened in reaction to. The hat dismissed any thought of keeping this conversation firmly inside the boy's head out and whispered, "Hmmm, a good pick no doubt. That one isn't the only house you are suited to though."
Before it could continue though, Harry cut him off. "Sorry mister hat, but Salazar Slytherin is the best! No disrespect to the other founders but they are basically chumps compared to him! I need to be in his house, mister hat, please!"
Mister hat sighed dejectedly. "So be it Potter. SLYTHERIN."
Harry whooped and threw the hat out of his head and dashed to the Slytherin table, unaware of the stares directed at him from all over the hall.
He was going to honour the legacy of Slytherin. He grinned as he shook hands with a suprised looking higher year, oh Salazarus Slytherinus, these students didn't look all that cunning to Harry.
He grinned. It was time to let all the work he had done let him shine.