by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer
Disclaimer: Would I be posting here if I owned the Harry Potter universe? NO!
Read: Tidbits of things... If you write out a plotbunny from here, please at least notify me.
Bunnies: - GG/SS that leads to HP/TR because of GG's stubbornness.
- HP loses his memory of everything (probably after or because of the Ministry Incident in the 5th book) and Marvolo (LV) takes him in, leading to loverly slashy lemoness, but Snape has been ordered to bring back the Boy-Who-Lived, so by potions SS forces Caelestis to relive important occurrences in his life to prod him in the right direction. Whether Harry remember or not is up to whoever writes it as is whether Harry returns to Voldemort's side after regaining all his memories.
- Apparently, Tom's been taking care of Harry when he's sick. Oh, the possibilities of corrupting Harry are endless!
- Voldemort didn't go to Albania after that fateful night; instead, he went to Hogwarts where Harry stumbles upon him. They become attached (rather Voldie attaches himself to Harry) and things happen (Quirrell is just a treasure-seeking moron). Dumbles doesn't find out and thus can't inform Harry of who Voldie is. XP People can't see Voldie unless he wants them to or he isn't paying attention.
Beware! Thar be abandoned rabid plotbunnies ahead. Argh!
3rd Set:
Godric wrapped his arms around Salazar, burying his face in the other man's robes.
"Please, if you never let me touch you ever again, let me now. If you don't ever wish for my presence in your life after this, then I will abide by your wish, but please... right now..." Slytherin sat there, trying not to give in to the desire to hold the man who had swore to always be by his side. Shaking aside all thoughts of what he thought was weakness, he found he couldn't move, couldn't shake off the man who had followed him to the ends of the earth and nearly got himself killed but managed to save them both.
"You're a fool," was all he managed to croak before Godric laughed, a short and bitter sound, but that didn't stop Salazar, "and a complete idiot. You could have gotten hurt - you could have been killed and for what? For your foolish ideas that I am something I am not!" Flinching, Godric huddled down further practically on top of the other man. Silently swearing to himself that even if it took one thousand years, the Gryffindor line would be bound to the Slytherin lineage.
#Next#
Idly kicking his feet in the air, Caelestis heaved a sigh, prodding the book he had been instructed to read but had already finished. He knew all of the rituals by heart by now. Why Snape insisted he reread them, he had no idea. Maybe he'd ask Marvolo when he came back from the Death Eater meeting, but for now he felt like a nap.
He had barely closed his eyes when something forced them open and there was the smell of fear and blood in the air. Looking around, he noticed he was in a graveyard, tied to something cold and solid as stone. A familiar whimpering figure was starting a fire under the cauldron not 5 feet in front of him. Why did this feel so familiar? He had never been in this situation.
Wormtail, for who else could be the balding and sniveling rat of a man before him, finished the preparations before picking up the squirming bundle that Caelestis had not noticed and dropped the wriggling serpentine baby into the cauldron. Feeling sick, the dark-haired youth tried to speak, to ask what the hell the quivering animagus thought he was doing, but for some reason couldn't get the words past his tight throat.
Then Wormtail started the ritual, the very last ritual in the book his bat of a teacher kept insisting he read thoroughly, the ritual that gave a wandering spirit the most appropriate body to inhabit. He couldn't move, even as the sniveling rodent drew a bone of the spirit's father to add to the potion. Only when the rat sliced open Caelestis' forearm to catch several drops of blood did he finally break out of his trance. Marvolo would kill Wormtail for this as only the Dark Lord who was allowed to touch the teen, but still he could not even force his mouth open.
The disgusting site of Wormtail cutting off his own hand didn't affect Caelestis the way it would normal people. No, it was the fact that Wormtail had had a hand to cut off in the first place. As long as Caelestis could remember (which was as long as he had been in the Dark Lord's care), the rat had always had one flesh hand and the other of smooth silver.
Why had he suddenly remembered this? Were they real memories or a trick? One could never trust sudden, unexpected dreams, though there was always the possibility that this was one of his missing memories. Hissed orders made him focus on what was happening.
For a moment he was relieved (though his body was still tensed) at the sound of hissed voice of a fellow Parselmouth and the sight of a familiar, white, thin figure of Marvolo, but then the tall man turned and Caelestis realized his mistake. This could never be his Marvolo. This humanoid had the face of a snake and the hateful gaze of an enemy. There were few similarities that he could pick out, but the crimson eyes were not as they should; it was obvious that this paper-thin monstrosity hated him with a passion, but Caelestis couldn't seem to rouse the same ardent emotions.
Feeling numb as the red-eyed, serpentine humanoid approached and taunted him, Caelestis could barely realize that he was speaking without even intentionally doing so and when he did, he found that he couldn't for the life of him control his voice. It was as if someone were speaking for him and not things that he wished to say. Despite wanting to wake up since this was obviously a dream, Caelestis found that he could not and the situation worsened.
Death Eaters began to Apparate in and each one Caelestis recognized - Crabbe Sr., Goyle Sr., Macnair, Malfoy... the list went on. Surely this must be some sort of vision rather than memories! Caelestis could remember perfectly the good times they had had, everything from conversations and hanging out to group activities and lessons. Nothing like this could have possibly happened! How could he have felt so at ease with every one of them if they had at one time tried to kill him?!
The snaky one had finished chastising the Death Eaters for the moment, finally 'remembering' him. Mocking sympathy made his lip curl at the man he'd rather have kicked in the face than deal with. Where was his Marvolo? Caelestis didn't remember anything about another Dark Lord commanding the Death Eaters and he had read all the books on Dark Lords that Marvolo had (and that was quite a considerable number).
Who is Harry? He wasn't Harry. In fact, he didn't know a single person named Harry or Potter, much less someone with both names. None-the-less, the serpentine humanoid continued 'taunting' him and, though he had no reaction to any of the man's barbs, his voice (apparently) did.
He had just been cut free to be forced to participate in a 'duel' with the much taller man when everything went black before his eyes snapped open to find worried crimson gazing into his own emerald. Latching onto the man in front of him, Harry nearly sobbed in relief. This was his master, his caretaker, his lover, and the other was not even related! The serpentine humanoid was someone else and Marvolo was his beautiful, warm crimson-eyed lover with a plentiful crop of silky black hair and circular pupils.
Shakily allowing the man he trusted most to view his memory of the nightmare, Caelestis sighed deeply, relaxing into the hand petting his hair. Marvolo would take care of him. Sure enough, once the older man had viewed the nightmare, he slid into the bed next to Caelestis and began to assist the teen in putting the nightmare out of his mind. It was no good to dwell on dreams, especially if they were as drastic as that one had been.
#Next#
The window was open and he was practically naked, but still he felt too hot to be healthy. Everything seemed to be weighing him down - Sirius' death, the Death Eaters that had been captured in June were already free, Voldemort was constantly pissed off and thus he had a constant headache, and now he had a high fever. The Dursleys had so kindly let him stay in bed until he could get up without fainting, but they hadn't given him any medicine, not even a single fever reducer pill. Even still, it was a pleasant surprise.
When would his phantom come? Trying to ignore the sweltering heat, Harry turned over, whimpering at the pounding in his head worsened because of his movement. He lay still until the wave of nausea passed before trying the rest of the way, but before he could twitch a cool hand was placed on his forehead, stopping him. At the nudge from his companion, he returned to laying on his back, sighing in content as cool hands stroked over his body, cooling him down to a comfortable level.
Cracking open bleary eyes, Harry gazed up at his companion who had always been there for him when he was sick at the Dursleys. He wasn't sure if it was just a hallucination or if there really was something taking care of him and he never was sure. Whenever he was sick, everything was blurry even with his glasses on and the only thing he saw of his companion was a shadow and soft, red eyes. Long, cool fingers closed his eyes for him and there was a whisper for him to get some rest which he doubted he could have resisted if he cared to try. Even as he slept, he could still feel those familiar hands caressing him, massaging sore muscles and keeping watch over him as he rested.
It made life worth living.
#Next#
Marching out of the Common Room, Harry took off into the dark castle, willing back tears. Those two were supposed to be his friends! Shaking his head, Harry knew he shouldn't have trusted them. It was just as Voldie said. Upon reaching the empty classroom Harry could sense Voldie was waiting in, he slipped in and was immediately set upon by the little ghost.
"They didn't believe you, did they? What did I tell you! Don't doubt me, whelp. I know what I'm talking about!" The insubstantial blob crossed his small arms across his chest, red eyes boring into Harry's green.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Never doubt the almighty Moldy-" His eyes narrowed.
"Don't you dare finish that, Potter!" Wincing at the hurtful use of his last name, Harry growled.
"Don't call me by my last name, Voldie!" The ghost puffed up slightly in anger.
"What did I tell you about that name, child!" Harry's cheeks flushed in rage.
"Don't call me child, you puff of smoke!" He puffed up even more, nearly screeching, though no one else could hear him.
"Well at least I'm not some orphan who's only famous because of a curse scar and has no real friends!" Taking a step back as if he had been struck, his face falling, he fished around desperately for another comeback.
"Well…" Harry's lip trembled. "Well…" Turning away, he felt tears slip down his cheeks through his tightly clenched eyes though he refused to let even the slightest whimper out. The softest of touches brushed down his left cheek, causing him to jerk his head up and his eyes open. He had looked directly into the translucent red eyes of his ghostly companion that held the slightest sliver of compassion.
"I may not be very touchy-feely, but I am here," Voldie offered calmly and Harry immediately leaned into the faint touch, nodding slightly. Heaving a great sigh, he thought about the situation. Those who he had chosen were not the right choice and the one he had refused now seemed to have been the better option, but at least he had Voldie who hadn't given him a choice.
#End of Set 3#
AN: If you don't check my profile, I suggest you do. Latest updates or how far I am and even what the characters are doing instead of working with me on my stories are there. I updated my deviantART page! O.o I mean, my muse hit me with an urge to draw and my obsession with Harry and Tom caused me to draw HP fanart. Most of it is Harry alone, sadly, but… meh. Sorry if you don't like my style of drawing. Nobody's making anyone look at it. XP
English is EVILE and we just got another huge project on top of the other stuff we were supposed to be doing.