batsutousai: (HP-motherseyes-Harry)
[personal profile] batsutousai
Title: Salir
Author: [livejournal.com profile] batsutousai
Beta: [livejournal.com profile] magickmaker17
Pairings: Harry/Tom(Voldemort)
Warnings: This will have slash(Guys on guys, ppl.).
Summary: Thrown back in time by Lord Voldemort, Harry must adapt. Who should he befriend, and fall for, but the man who sent him back in time himself.
Disclaim Her: Maroon 5’s music is about sex, sex, and more sex. Hot damn! No wonder I like them so!!

A/N: Once again, please ignore the Disclaim Her. And know that you may not sue me for any insanity that comes about from reading anything I write.

I’m not very fond of this chapter, just so you all know. Chapter 6 is better, though it has a corny ending. (I know you’re all looking forward to that already. *snorts*)

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Chapter Five – Burdened Home

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Grass. His fingers grasped the real-life thing tightly in both hands. He was dazed from yet another long trip. A trip through time that he desperately hadn’t wanted to make. It hurt like nothing he’d ever been faced with before.

“What have we here?”

Salir Cobre, known also as Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, snapped his head up with a speed that belied he weariness and found himself face-to-face with none other than Lucius Malfoy. Hogwarts rose up behind the blonde in all its majestic beauty. The shadows dancing across it were the only signs of the outcome of the war Harry had been throw from.

“Lost, boy?” Lucius sneered.

It took Salir a second to realize that, with the long hair and a Notice-Me-Not Charm cast upon his telling scar, Lucius had no clue who he was.

Lucius growled, patience gone, and pointed his wand at Salir. “Up. Let’s go. I’m not in mood for dumb mutes. You’re going to my Lord.”

Salir got up slowly and let Lucius lead him into Hogwarts at wand-tip. He found he was only mildly surprised that Hogwarts had fallen, but strangely uncaring. 'Have I changed so much that I no longer care about the place I once called home?’ he wondered sadly as Lucius came to a stop outside a plain wooden door. The Death Eater knocked sharply, wand still trained on his prisoner.

“What?!” Voldemort’s voice shouted through the wood. To Salir’s ears, the man sounded severely stressed and on edge. Experience told the teen that now was not a good time to bother the Dark wizard.

Lucius didn’t appear to know any better. Or maybe he just didn’t care. “My Lord, a boy appeared on the lawn. I thought you might want to check him out.”

The door clicked open. “Come in, then,” Voldemort said in a tone that Salir recognized as controlled anger and the teen had to hide a smile.

Lucius forced Salir in ahead of him and the teen kept his head down. “This is the boy, my Lord.”

There was a shatter of glass as Voldemort stood abruptly. His scarlet eyes were laced with shock that was out of place. “Great Merlin… It can’t be…”

Salir glanced up into the eyes of the monster he’d fallen head-over-heels for in another life, green eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, no, I should hope not. After all, if I were me, you’d have to be you, and we just can’t have that.”

Much to the shock of Lucius, and the joy of Salir, Lord Voldemort, ruler of the Wizarding World, laughed at the boy’s rudeness.

“My Lord?” Lucius asked carefully, as if talking to an insane man, which he was, really.

Voldemort mellowed rapidly. “Lucius, you are dismissed.”

“Of course, My Lord.” Lucius left after bowing, silently fuming.

As soon as the heavy door had fallen shut and locked automatically, Voldemort threw up a Silencing Barrier, then turned to Salir, who was smiling faintly. “I’ve missed you.”

Salir’s smile faded as he spoke. “I’m sorry.” His gaze fell to the ground at his feet. “I couldn’t tell you. It might have created a paradox.”

Voldemort had used the time that Salir spoke to step into the space before the teen and then used the following silence to tip Salir’s head head up with a single, pale finger, scarlet eyes shining with love. “Shush. I don’t care.”

Salir shook his head and took a step back, refusing the caring touch. “Riddle, who do you think I am?” the teen asked abruptly, eyes shot through with sadness.

“What?” The confusion looked as out-of-place on Voldemort’s white-skinned face as lust had fifty-five years ago.

“Who do you think I am? In this time? This place?”

“I don’t care.”

“You should.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Stop that!” Salir smacked away the hand that was inching towards him again before turning his wand to himself. “Revelio!”

Voldemort froze as the lightning bolt scar came into view in the centre of Salir’s forehead. “I should have known…” he whispered, voice low and dangerous.

“One minute, you’re trying to get me into bed, the next, you’re back to plotting my demise. Make up your bloody mind for once, dear snake,” Salir hissed coldly.

“Don’t...” Voldemort took a fortifying breath. “Don’t call me that, Potter.”

Don’t call me that, Potter,” Salir mocked, hiding his hurt behind rude anger. “Well guess what, dear snake, I spent almost two months calling you that fifty-five years ago and you didn’t give a damn back then.”

“That was different.”

“How?!” Salir’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “How was it okay for me to call you ‘dear snake’ before and not now? Can you answer me that?”

“It just is.”

But always think twice before you dig in, Could this be your one-time friend?” Salir recited coldly before spinning and stalking from the room.

Voldemort leaned back against his desk wearily as the door slammed shut. 'Tom, you idiot. Every bloody sign… Who else did you tell your greatest secrets? Who else has those green eyes and that lightning mark? How bloody stupid can you get?!’

§ § § § §


Salir was stalking through the halls angrily. 'How dare he?! Bastard!’

“Who are you?!”

Salir’s head shot up and green met silver. “Malfoy. Wonderful.”

“Potter?! You’re dead!”

“ 'Fraid not. So, tell me, Malfoy, what happened to the rest of the students?”

Draco Malfoy paused only long enough to glance around the hall before his gaze met and held Salir’s once again, this time dead serious. “Dungeons, but there are guards.”

“Snape?”

“Free.”

Salir let out a breath of relief. “Good. Can you get me down there?”

“They’ll recognize you,” Draco pointed out.

Salir waved his wand at his forehead and his scar disappeared. “Call me Cobre. The only other person who has seen me has been your father, and, as far as he knows, I’m Voldemort’s friend.”

“I don’t know how you managed it, and, personally, I don’t really care.” Draco groaned, rolling his eyes in a very un-Malfoy-like fashion. “Come on, then. With any luck, Sev’s today’s guard.”

Salir fell into step with Draco easily, his hands rapidly signing a question that hadn’t been safe to ask aloud: 'The Order?’

'Captured and mostly killed,’ Draco’s hands responded smoothly.

'Dumbledore?’

'Dead.’

“Wonderful,” Salir hissed sarcastically.

Draco snorted in agreement as they started down the dungeon stairs. “The guard should be at the bottom of the steps,” he whispered, since it was too dark in this part of the castle to sign reliably.

Salir nodded sharply, not really caring if the blonde saw him or not.

“Who’s there?”

“Sev.” Draco let out a breath of relief at the sight of the black-haired man with the crooked nose and the cold eyes.

Severus Snape cocked and eyebrow at his godson and the other with him. “Who is this?”

Salir smirked. “Salir Cobre.” His hands signed, 'Harry Potter,’ as he spoke.

Snape’s eyes widened for the briefest of moments before his normal emotionless mask slipped back into place. When he spoke, his tone was laced with boredom. “And why are you two down here?”

“Cobre wants to look over the prisoners,” Draco explained calmly.

“And what does Mr Cobre plan to do?” Snape inquired. Salir decoded the question to truly mean, 'Did he plan on setting people free?’

“Merely look.” Salir shrugged. “Nothing more.”

Snape nodded. “Draco, watch him.”

“Of course. Cobre, this way.”

Salir fell in behind Draco this time and let the blonde boy lead him through the dark, labyrinth-like corridors to the spot that had been created to cage the students and staff of Hogwarts that were against the Dark Lord. Salir could smell the pain and hate before they reached the first cell and he had to ask a question to keep it from consuming him. “Why did he let them live?”

“I guess he’s hoping for allies.” Draco shrugged. The unsaid 'Or he’s making examples out of them’ hung in the air between the two young wizards heavily.

Salir silenced to stare at the first cell they’d come upon and felt his stomach rebel at the sight. About twenty people fit in a cell should have only held fifteen. Their clothing was ragged and littered with holes. Each person was no larger than a skeleton, skin clinging tightly to their bones. They were clean – obviously Voldemort saw it fit to make sure they got showers occasionally – and they must have been getting some food and water, since they were still alive. Salir’s hands balled into fists at his sides, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, and he schooled his face into an emotionless mask. Some of these people would not take kindly to pity, he knew.

“Malfoy, you bastard! Come to poke fun at us?!”

Salir’s head shot around around and he stared at the cell his Gryffindor friends sat in. Ron was at the bars, ever angry, while the others huddled together in a corner, watching the visitors with sad gazes.

“Oh, stuff it, Weasel.” Draco snorted. There was the slightest of twinges in the Slytherin’s voice that said he’d never 'poke fun’ at any of those in the cages. He derived no pleasure from their plight, for once.

“Bring a friend, too?” Ron snarled.

“Ron, enough,” Hermione’s tired voice begged.

“No!” Ron shouted at the brunette before he turned back on the visitors. “Get out of here! Tell that bastard to just kill us all already!” Ron screamed at Draco and Salir. A roar of agreement followed this proclamation from the stronger students in the other cells.

“I’ve seen enough,” Salir hissed tightly to Draco, fighting tears.

“Kill?” Voldemort appeared from a shadow. “No, no, Mr Weasley.”

Draco spun and bowed lowly to the Dark Lord. The students and teachers shrunk back against the walls of their cells. Even Ron seemed to have lost his spunk once faced with nightmarish man who held his fate in his spidery hands.

Salir turned angry emeralds on his once-lover. “Let them free, Riddle,” he ordered coldly.

“Would you like to join them, Cobre?” Voldemort shot back mockingly.

“Sure. Let me suffer through your version of that orphanage.”

Voldemort flinched, then aimed his wand at the black-haired teen. “You will regret that.”

“Going to kill me, Riddle? Think it will finally work?” Salir sneered. “What was it you once told me? Ah, yes. 'Love always ruins everything.’ What a joke you made, Tom Riddle!”

Then Salir spun around and stepped into the cell that opened for him. Voldemort flinched again as the metal gate slammed shut behind the young man.

Emerald orbs met scarlet. “Lock up your heart, then,” he whispered to the Dark Lord before turning to sit with the Gryffindors.

Voldemort left in a storm of fury, the shadows once again swallowing him up as the danced to his anger.

“Cobre?” Draco asked softly as he stood.

“Go on, Malfoy. I’m where I belong now,” Salir responded softly. 'Tell Snape the same,’ he signed.

“Very well.” Draco left without a glance back at the green-eyed teen, though Salir could tell Draco wanted nothing more than to join him in the cage. It was where he, too, belonged.

“And who the fuck are you?”

Salir glanced up at Ron wearily. ‘Never change, Ron.’ He sighed mentally before blocking out the red-head and closing his eyes in hope of sleep.

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A/N: One more chapter. Isn’t that a happy thought?

~Batsutousai ^.^x

Chapters:
Prologue
1 - The Arrival ||| 2 - The Budding Friendship ||| 3 - Love Always Ruins Everything
4 - No Chance to Say Goodbye ||| 5 - Burdened Home
Epilogue - A New Age

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