Title : Le Souhait
Author Name : Sophie Black
Translator : Gutterbunny (ID onf ff.net : 157294)
Author's email : firstname.lastname@example.org
Summary : Harry goes in 1944 and there, he'll meet Tom (and eventually…)
Rating : G (It'll be R at the end)
Disclaimer : Harry Potter's characters are not mine, I'm playing with them. They belong to JK Rowling.
Warning : Slash
Pairing : Tom/Harry
Category : Romance/Angst
Main Characters : Tom and Harry
Length : 20 chapters
I wrote this fic a while ago in French and I begged a friend of mine (Gutterbunny (ID onf ff.net : 157294)) to translate it in English because I don't talk very well (I' writing the notes at the beginning and at the end and Gutterbunny translates the fic, you will see the difference…) So, the original is in French (but the translation is better…) under the title Le souhait and I hope you'll enjoy this fic as much as the French world (I have ~17,88 reviews/chapter in French). I don't think you will because there are more choices of fics in English… Anyway, just R&R (please ????)
Today was the day he'd been waiting for, for more than a month : his birthday. He was finally seventeen, finally in his seventh and last year at Hogwarts… It was also his first birthday, with all his friends, and Dumbledore and Sirius, who had cleared his name, and with presents... He was at Hogwarts, he'd spent the whole summer there, and he'd never have to go back to the Dursleys' ever again, which was a comforting thought.
It was a very fine day, with a sun that shone so brightly it hurt his eyes to look at it. If only he hadn't been worrying about Tom, the day would have been perfect – but Tom was alive and thought only of killing him.
Harry looked up. Ron and Hermione were lumbering out of the castle, struggling to hold up an enormous cake. The cake's chocolate surface was entirely covered in candles – seventeen of them, streaked red and gold, enchanted to stand upright. Everybody burst into song: "Happy birthday to yoooouuuu… Happy birthday, dear Haaaaaarry…" Ron and Hermione laughed, making the cake wobble dangerously as they set it down on a picnic table that had been magicked there by Dumbledore. The Headmaster smiled at Harry, winked, then said, "Don't forget to make a wish as you blow out your candles, Harry!"
Harry racked his brain for a wish, more out of habit than out of a belief that it would come true; then he took a deep breath and blew on the candles as hard as he could, sending two small chocolate roses flying.
Suddenly he felt very uneasy. His skin and his insides crawled, and gave him the feeling that he'd just vanished.
The others, as they looked at Harry with wide, horrified eyes, saw him pale, become translucent and fall to the ground before vanishing.
Hermione was the first to react, standing up so fast she knocked her chair over, screaming Harry's name over and over again, each time an octave higher than the last; Ron was just as surprised. But Sirius noticed Dumbledore's calm and asked him, in an almost threatening tone, "Were those actual wish candles?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, that was my present to him…"
"But what did he wish for?" cried Hermione.
"I do not know," admitted Dumbledore. "But don't worry – if anything goes wrong, he'll come back."
But they kept worrying all the same.
* * *
"Leave me alone, Remielle – I want some peace and quiet."
"You've had peace and quiet all summer! It's your last school year, and all you want is peace and quiet! Have some fun, Tom, you've really isolated yourself…"
"I like living in a bubble."
"You've changed… what are you working on, anyway?"
Tom glared coldly at her to show that he was none too pleased with his friend's question – one she had asked him hundreds of times before. "On… on what I'm going to do after I leave Hogwarts," he answered. He turned away from her and began to walk towards the lake.
Remielle ran after him. "You think I don't know? That's what you tell me each time! Each time!"
"Hm… each time you ask me what my plans are, I answer the same thing?… Get used to it!"
Remielle sighed. He wasn't going to tell her why – why he'd been spending so much time in the Restricted Section lately. He had permission to be there – that was one of the advantages of being best in everything – but surely he didn't have permission to perform Black magic, which she was sure he was doing. Of course, he was a Slytherin – but still… He had even made up a nickname for himself that only his closest friends used. Remielle was not supposed to know that nickname, as she wasn't part of Tom's inner circle, but she'd found it out anyway, and she thought it might be a good way to get his attention.
"I just want to talk, Voldemort!" she snapped at him.
He spun around with astonishing speed, his eyes shooting sparks. "Just because you've been sticking to my heels all summer doesn't make you one of my friends!"
That hurt, but at least he wasn't avoiding her now…
"Would talking hurt you so badly? Come on! You're seventeen and you're not interested in anything that normal guys your age are! Have you even ever had a girlfriend?"
Tom rolled his eyes in lieu of an answer.
"Because if you haven't noticed, a lot of girls want you."
"And I don't give a damn about any of them."
Remielle was about to answer, but something happened then that struck her dumb. She cried out and took two steps back before tripping over a hillock and falling into a heap on the ground.
Tom instinctively looked up and saw a young man appear, halfway between the lake and Tom, before fainting. He bore a strange resemblance to Tom – same height and hair – but he wore glasses.
"Go get Professor Dippet and the school nurse – now!" Tom yelled, without taking his eyes of the boy.
Remielle lept to her feet, spun around and took off toward the school. Tom furtively approached the fallen boy and kneeled beside him. He noticed a scar on his forehead, shaped like a bolt of lightning. Many texts on Dark Magic and curses had taught Tom that such scars could only come from very strong curses cast by Magids. But this boy was far too young to have dueled against a Magid… unless he was very powerful. And hadn't he just apparated on the Hogwarts ground, achieving a feat that they had always been assured was impossible? This was obviously a great wizard.
Tom dropped his hand on the boy's forehead; he wasn't feverish, and didn't seem sick. Tom brushed away strands of his hair, to see the scar better. It had definitely caused by a duel.
He was on the verge of removing his hand, when it was strongly gripped by the other boy's, who opened his eyes.
"Nice reflexes," Tom told him.
The boy rubbed his eyes, as though to correct his vision, then stared back at Tom. "I'm dreaming…" he muttered.
"I have the privilege of telling you that no, this is real life."
"No… it's impossible," the boy went on. "Voldemort? Tom?… is it really you?"
Tom narrowed his eyes. "I don't know how you know my name, or my private… nickname… but I'd appreciate it if you let go of my wrist and tell me who you are."
"So it's really you… I'm Harry." He let go of Tom's hand, his head filled with odd, illogical ideas. Was he here to – change Tom, and if so, how on earth was he supposed to do it – if that was the reason he was here. He wasn't sure if his wish – for Tom not to become his future Dark self – that had brought him here. But what other reasons were there?
"Are you all right?" Tom asked.
Harry was smiling strangely, almost devilishly. "Yes, everything's fine… better than that, in fact."
End of the first chapter !
Oh, yeah, the chapters 1 to 5, 12 and 16 are the worsts (I think they are…)
Danielle : So, I have to tell the English world who I am… I'm Sophie's conscience and I write the R scenes, but she expelled me so she has to write them by herself now…
Me : Well, they're not that bad…
Danielle : *Stare* You're to young, face it…
Me: Oh, yeah, I have to tell you again that Gutterbunny (ID onf ff.net : 157294) translated and is translating this fic. She writes better than me by the way…