Summary: Life is cruel, but sometimes, just sometimes, salvation is granted. Harry never asked to be in the spotlight, in the tournament, and he definitely never asked to fall back in time…or to fall in love. Salazar only wants to keep him by his side for as long as possible until time runs out. Salazar/Harry

Pairings: Salazar/Harry

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original Harry Potter characters, plotlines, or ideas that come from J.K Rowling or the copyrighted Harry Potter series.

..

The Downpour
Chapter 2: Wavering

..
And you ask me what I want this year
And I try to make this kind and clear
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days
Cause I don't need boxes wrapped in strings
And designer love and empty things
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days
..

Salazar was stunned as the boy shrank away from him, brilliant green eyes widening in fright and intense fear. He paused momentarily in his advance, watching and treating the boy carefully as he would a skittish animal. He held up the bandages with both hands, showing the other that he didn't have any weapons. Hopefully, this would give the other indication that he meant no harm.

It seemed to work as some of the hysteria from the green eyes lessened.

Taking a small breath, Salazar took a step forward, but stopped when the boy flinched back. Concerned, he hesitated, "I only want to bandage your back. I'm not going to hurt you."

No response.

There was only confusion and a guarded frown.

The pained-green eyes watched his every movement warily.

As though Salazar was going to strike and attack him.

The man hesitated again before switching over to parseltongue, "I only want to bandage your back. I'm not going to hurt you."

Instant reaction.

The smaller male flinched back violently as if hit. Salazar halted, not moving, not knowing what to do.

"Do you understand me? Eris, my familiar," Salazar paused, rephrasing his explanation to hopefully calm the skittish boy, "my, er, serpent familiar, told me that you had requested help from her."

The Slytherin heir gave a mental sigh of relief as the other seemed to calm somewhat as some recognition ignited in the boy's expressive eyes. At least this time, there was no violent movement to get away from him.

"Who are you?"

Salazar blinked at the soft, exhausted voice. The boy's shoulders sagged and his breaths started to come out heavier and quicker. He started to tremble, eyes still impossibly wide, watching Salazar with fright.

"I could ask you the same little one," he finally chose to respond, carefully taking another small step forwards. The boy allowed it, still watching his movements warily. Again, Salazar held out the bandages with both arms. This seemed to calm him, the knowledge that Salazar wasn't holding any weapons.

He pushed the implications of that thought aside for now.

"You don't know who I am?" the boy questioned cautiously.

His eyes still watched Salazar's progression intently, studying the taller man and tensing with every small movement the aristocratic man made.

Salazar's brow rose curiously at the boy's choice in words, "should I?"

He was responded with near hysterical laughter.

The older male frowned in concern as he took a few more steps forward. The small boy was sobbing now. When he had finally reached the other, he tentatively touched the other's shoulder. It seemed the boy was too exhausted to flinch or to protest, for he just seemed to cry harder, muttering in a language that he couldn't make sense of.

"Shhh," he awkwardly tried to comfort, patting the boy's shoulder carefully and hesitantly, "I'm not going to hurt you. Here, let me bandage your back." He held out the bandages again for the crying boy to see, desperately hoping that the other's tears would let up. He had never really been good with comforting people, hell he wasn't good with people in general. His home was located in the middle of nowhere, in unplottable land. His only company consisted of family house elves, his familiar, and occasionally one friend that he now only saw rarely. That, in itself should have told others something about his social skills.

"I-er-well, um, I mean you no harm?" he had never, in his nineteen years of life, had been this flustered.

And over a crying boy no less.

"Please," oh dear Merlin, his tone was actually bordering upon pleading, "I only want to help you."

Salazar held out the bandages again in desperation. The tears that continued to fall and the noises of pain coming from the other panicked him. He waved his hands helplessly and somehow in the next few seconds had managed to tangle his own hands that had been flailing around the boy, desperate to distract the other and thus stop his tears, in the white bandages meant for the other boy's wounds. When he noticed that his arms' movement was being restricted, he stopped, and stared rather owlishly at his two limbs.

He blinked and stared.

His hands were still entangled with the bandages.

Well, that had never happened before.

A rather chocked chuckle met his ears, and he turned his stunned eyes to meet watery green.

Oh Merlin, were they ever green.

He knew there were more pressing matters at hand, but his thought process seemed to have been rendered useless.

With his tears pooling at the edges of those green eyes, Salazar was strongly reminded of lush green grass right after a rainfall. It reminded him of when grass along with nature seemed more alive, rejuvenated after mother nature's downpour of liquid life.

Cautiously, the boy crept closer, eyeing him carefully as he started to slowly reach out with his hand to help untangle Salazar from his predicament.

The older male's cheeks flamed with colour, finally realizing the full result of his flustered actions from before. Oh Merlin, the picture he must make right now.

The other boy's lips twitched as he sniffed, his tears finally stopping as his eyes focused on the task before him. Salazar held still, surprised at the intensity the younger boy was showing in aiding him. When he was finally out of the mess he had created for himself, the green eyed boy immediately backed away, but still kept his eyes trained on the other man.

Salazar offered him a small smile, "my thanks, little one," he hissed softly.

The other blinked, as if surprised. Flushing, he nodded, and then hesitantly he voiced, "my back?"

The elder man jumped, of course, the boy's injury must've been hurting him all this time. A stab of guilt pierced through him, and because of his stupidity, the boy had made unnecessary movement that could have and most likely had already disturbed and irritated the raw injury. He cursed himself and advanced slowly towards where the other was still watching, biting his lip nervously.

"I apologize for my actions causing your injury further harm," Salazar said with worry, "may I see it for a moment to see if it needs to be treated again before bandaging?"

The boy's hesitation was less prolonged than it had been originally, the last Slytherin noted with a relieved smile. With a small nod, the small raven haired boy turned for his back to face Salazar.

"Thank you," was the small, shy whisper. And then the small form shivered as though feeling the elder male's scrutinizing gaze upon his skin.

Salazar's eyes softened at the fragile voice. It was so full of gratefulness, yet it still held an edge of fear and caution, as though ready to be hurt again.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered gently in a soft hiss as he bent down to see the wound more clearly.

The small boy shivered again, and his shoulders shook with emotion. Concerned, the elder male asked, "are you in pain?"

Facing the other's back, he only saw the response through the slow movement of the boy's head indicating a negative response. Salazar frowned, noting that the injury had miraculously stayed closed through all the child's movements, "it didn't reopen. I'm going to bandage it now." Pausing, he touched the top of the child's head gently, trying to push away his sadness at the other's answering flinch from his touch, "it will cause some discomfort, but please bear it for a little bit longer."

"O-okay," was the stuttered reply.

Though the other couldn't see, Salazar smiled softly at him. And even though the situation was in no way calming, that was how he felt as he carefully worked in bandaging the other's wounds. The other boy's presence, just being near, was soothing his usually volatile magic and emotions.

Neither spoke a word as Salazar completed his task. The small raven haired boy stayed still the entire time, almost eerily so through the entire procedure.

When the elder was finished, he stepped back, albeit with a small amount of hesitation.

"I've finished now, would you like a sleeping draught? The healing balm is slightly painful when working, and rest would help to accelerate the healing process," he watched the boy cautiously. Though he was slowly relaxing to the use of parseltongue, occasionally, like now, the smaller male would flinch at the hisses coming from him.

He pushed his growing curiousity and concern aside. Questions and answers could both be brought up later once the other was healed. What mattered most at that moment was to make sure that the little one was healing healthily and was comfortable.

Green eyes locked with eyes and Salazar held still as he felt the other's gaze searching for something. The child gave a small nod, and continued to watch the other snake speaker as he moved over to procure the sleeping draught. Grabbing the fur blankets around him, the boy covered himself with them, and Salazar fought against a growing smile, seeing the embarrassed flush the other sported as he tried to cover himself.

The elder male chuckled and the other's face reddened further, ducking his head to hide the colour that exposed his feelings of vulnerability.

He handed the small pale hand the potion and watched curiously as the child scrunched up his noise endearingly before closing his eyes tightly and necking the entire vial in one swift movement. His brow rose in astonishment and amusement while taking the empty vial back.

"Thank you," the green eyes dropped with drowsiness.

Salazar chuckled softly, "it was no problem, little one." He gently helped to maneuver the boy onto his stomach, and then proceeded to carefully cover the small form with his furs. Glancing over at the fire, he noted to himself that it could use another log or two thrown in before turning to face the boy that was fighting against the sleeping draught, sleepy and hazy green eyes watching him. There wasn't much wariness and instead, the green depths seemed to be overpowered with curiousity and, dare he hope it, trust.

It was rather overwhelming, he had to admit.

He offered the little one a comforting smile, trying to will the other through the gesture that he wasn't going to hurt him. "Stop being so stubborn, let the sleeping draught do its work," he whispered soothingly, "I will watch over you through the night. Nothing will hurt you here."

It was impossible to fight against the urge to reassure and protect the small boy. Not that he tried to fight it. His magic hummed in agreement, having already since first contact, entangled itself quite happily with the smaller male's magic. Feeling his magic and the other's magic together sent a warm sensation through him. It was so comfortable, so right.

It was peaceful, he realized.

It was like finding himself again after losing all sanity. Like fitting the first puzzle pieces together amid the surrounding thousands.

It was warm.

He stroked the boy's silky hair, soothing him into sleep. And in the little one's lethargic state, one small hand reached out aimlessly to grasp his robe tightly.

Green eyes struggled fruitlessly to stay open, and the elder grinned in amusement. For one so little, he had a large amount of will power and stubbornness. Almost unconsciously, he started humming an old lullaby, one he hadn't sung or heard since his family's deaths. A small smiled played in both occupant's lips within the warm room.

And before the green eyes closed into sleep, the boy whispered in a small hiss, "Harry, my name's Harry."

And then Harry's eyes closed, his grip relaxing its hold on the robes of the elder male as he fell into another fit of sleep. Harry never did see the stunning smile that answered the admission of his name. Nor did the small teen feel the hand he had used to clutch onto his savoir being raised before lips gently caressed his bruised knuckles with reverence.

"Harry…" Salazar muttered, not even noticing that he had switched over from the snake language over to the human tongue. His fingers combed through the black locks, stroking them calmly as he watched with contemplation, the relaxed face of the small boy that was deep in slumber.

..
So take these words
And sing out loud
Cause everyone is forgiven now
Cause tonight's the night the world begins again
..

Harry's eyes snapped open with a scream.

Immediately, arms wrapped around his shoulders securely to steady him as he got his breathing under control. Eyes open wide, the fourteen-year-old stared unseeingly ahead of him as flashes of what he dearly hoped was only a dream, flew across his vision.

Giant snake, Wormtail, and, Harry's stomach lurched, the small ominous bundle that the traitor held.

Harry shuddered, not wanting to acknowledge what his subconscious was screaming at him to accept. Because, the teen breathed heavily, that would mean accepting the reality of his life.

"Harry?"

At the sound of the hiss, Harry jerked back violently with a sharp gasp, eyes wide with terror. His breaths were coming in shorter and shorter as he felt real panic settling in.

Where was he?

Oh Merlin, it was so dark. His breathing picked up and he moved back, away from the looming dark frame that was blocking his view of any light.

Of any escape.

He trembled as his fight or flight response flared into life.

"Harry?" the hiss came again, but this time hesitant, cautious. "You had a nightmare, little one."

And then, the dark frame moved to the side, and the light of the fire flickered into Harry's view, revealing the room and the one that had spoken the snake language. His vision registered the eyes first, the concern. He didn't see any malice there, no, no malice. His eyes swept the rest of the man's features, noting that the man was remaining still while he was busy scrutinizing him. Harry felt his breathing slowly coming back to normal as the other man made no sudden movements to advance on him.

His green eyes swept across the handsome features of the aristocratic face, the unkempt black hair that fell messily like his own past the stranger's shoulders, the tired but alert eyes, and then Harry's eyes lit up in recognition as he stared down at the man's raised hands signaling that he didn't have any weapons.

That he meant no harm.

And just like that, that image and thought triggered his memories of the past few hours before he had awoken.

The Triwizard Tournament, the Horntail, the serpent, the forest, and then…here.

Harry's shoulder's relaxed, and the stranger, seeing this, took a cautious step forwards, lips open to speak before closing with a snap, eyes wary that Harry would react violently again to the sound of parseltongue.

Harry felt his cheeks flood with heat. What a way to treat someone who had only helped him so far. He felt thoroughly embarrassed from his actions.

"S-sorry," he stuttered with the snake language, having never really used it since second year. He pushed away the pain he felt when the memory of him, Ron and Hermione arose during that particular adventure. He forced himself to take deep breaths, trying earnestly to calm himself further.

A cautious hand touched his shoulder and Harry jerked in surprise, only just keeping a yelp from leaving his lips. He flushed again at the concerned gaze the elder man was giving him, "sorry." And then he cursed himself silently as he realized that since awakening, apologizing was all he had been doing in terms of communication. More heat flooded his cheeks.

"I…" and Harry trailed off helplessly, not knowing what to say. How to explain what had happened. What did he have to explain?

The small teen peeked up through his lashes to see the elder man's reaction, and then blinked when he realized that the other probably wasn't much more than a few years older than his fellow Triwizard competitors. And for reasons that he couldn't comprehend, his receding flush came back with a vengeance.

The older male chuckled, his warm forest green eyes peering at Harry in return with amusement and affection. Harry blinked and looked away, not knowing why he was so flushed and embarrassed with other man.

"How is your back little one?"

"Not little," Harry muttered petulantly, closing his eyes with a frown and trying to feel whether or not he was in pain. Now that he was paying attention and was actually searching, he did feel the stinging sensation from his back. "Ow," he winced, opening his eyes again.

"I may not understand your language, but I'm sure that expression was one to signify pain or discomfort," the man said wryly.

Harry blinked owlishly, remembering again events from before. The language barrier…that's right. And the reason for their conversations consisting entirely of parseltongue.

The small teen gasped in remembrance as his eyes pierced the surprised man who had returned to his seat next to the bed. "Who are you?" he echoed his first words to the man. After all, he never did get his answer. Who was this stranger who possessed the ability of the snake language? The ability that as far as he knew, was only possessed by him and Voldemort.

Harry held his breath as the man opened his mouth to answer. The stranger watched him intently, a bit wary at the intensity of Harry's expectant gaze, "Salazar, Salazar Slytherin."

Harry blinked.

His mouth opened.

Then closed.

Harry stared.

"Is there something wrong?" the man, Salazar, asked, watching him cautiously.

Harry swallowed. He guessed that from his past actions, at least as far as this man had seen, he had been rather skittish and jumpy. But, that name, it just couldn't be.

He brought disbelieving eyes to the man again. The man tilted his head in question, lips in a frown. Harry studied him intently, brows scrunching up in concentration as he looked closer at the man's features. There was some resemblance to the sixteen year old Voldemort, the diary form of Tom Riddle, Harry acknowledged, but that didn't prove that this stranger was telling the truth.

It was impossible.

It just wasn't possible.

It couldn't be.

Then, Harry stared with impossibly wide eyes, then why was it that his gut, his very being was screaming out at him to trust this man, to recognize that the stranger was telling the truth.

His instincts had never lied before; it had been what kept him alive for so long shortly after arriving in the wizarding world.

But oh Merlin, this couldn't be true could it?

It was much too far-fetched, even in magical terms.

His eyes swept across the room desperately looking for something, anything that would prove this to be a lie. But with every passing moment, his eyes failed to see anything that resembled products or evidence of the modern time or age. His eyes only found candles, a fire, robes, furniture that he had only seen in antique stores or in museums, but in here they looked new, and they looked perfect for the setting. Oh Merlin, his gasped as his eyes registered the man again.

This just couldn't be possible.

"Harry?" Salazar was growing concerned. Why had his name caused such a reaction from the boy? The boy's wide eyes stared at him in disbelief and horror, as though he were an apparition or an evil spirit. The last Slytherin frowned, "Harry, what's wrong?"

But Harry didn't answer, only continuing to stare at him, at the room and at the furs, before returning to stare at him again, all with the same eerie stare that was pleading, scared and horrified.

"A dream, this is all a dream," Harry mumbled before laughing with a little hysteria, "Horntail hit me harder than I thought. All a dream." He muttered the mantra to himself, trying and failing to make himself believe his words. He closed his eyes tightly and repeated the mantra, not daring to open his eyes because everytime he stared at an object, at the room, at the very man before him, his resolve wavered.

Salazar was growing alarmed now as Harry curled into himself, all the while muttering in that strange language. He cursed, feeling frustrated over his incomprehension of the strange language that the shaking boy before him was muttering.

He reached over to touch the child, and promptly jumped back with a yelp as Eris materialized in her usual manner before him. She spared him an amused glance before nuzzling the small form that was still shaking in what Salazar now recognized as shock and terror.

"Harry," the man pleaded, kneeling down on the ground. He was silently thankful that his stern father wasn't here to witness this, and then quickly felt guilt from even thinking such a thing.

"Little one," the large serpent hissed soothingly, and the boy responded, hazy eyes looking up to stare into her large silver ones.

Harry looked up when a voice other than Salazar's spoke, to stare again at the great serpent that had brought the man to his rescue, the man claiming to be Salazar Slytherin.

Salazar Slytherin, a historical figure that had lived and died more than a millennia ago.

He breathed in deeply, eyes flickering between Salazar and Eris.

"Where am I?" he choked.

"In my home," Salazar replied immediately, holding himself back from touching the teen. He felt pained when he saw that Harry shrunk away when he spoke, as though his voice repulsed the little one.

Harry shook his head. That wasn't the answer he wanted, wasn't the answer that would explain this.

Whatever the bloody hell this was.

Eris laughed in hisses, startling the two humans, and disturbing Harry greatly.

"You are where you are supposed to be little champion."

Harry's eyes widened in shock as the serpent uncurled from her position on the bed to reveal a golden egg.

The golden egg.

The dragon.

The golden egg.

The fourteen year old wavered, and then promptly fell back in a dead faint, not hearing the startled call of his name from Salazar or the amused hissing laughter from the vanishing serpent.

He fell into darkness once again.

..
I need someplace simple where we could live
And something only you can give
And thats faith and trust and peace while we're alive
And the one poor child who saved this world
And there's 10 million more who probably could
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them

So take these words
And sing out loud
Cause everyone is forgiven now
Cause tonight's the night the world begins again
..

Better Days: Goo Goo Dolls