Crossovers > Not again

Disclaim: I do not own Harry Potter and such, J.K. Rowling does. Though, Saramil is mine, and Lizard and “my black-skinned lover” (which would be Zamanirr) are KH’s.

Not again

“Professors! Professors!” The loud cry echoed in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

Every head turned towards the doors.

Just about when Professor McGonagall reached the ones coming inside, they all heard a pleading voice: “Just let me go… Please!”

Harry Potter and his friends went closer to see what was going on.

Filch seemed to have captured a boy, who had long raven black hair – which was actually the only thing he was wearing the moment if you did not count the rope.

“Mr. Filch! What do you think you are doing?” Professor McGonagall questioned with shocked voice. “Let the poor boy go. Surely he has not done anything to deserve this!” she pointed the rope that the sadistic caretaker of the school had fastened on to boy’s neck and hands.

“…Let me GO! Take this off of me!” The voice that had now grown to its full hysteric did not belong to a boy. This was a man.

A gasp echoed in the Great Hall.

“But, professor! He is an intruder! I caught him when he was trying to break in to the school!” Filch said.

“And you decided then to bring him here? On a rope?” Professor McGonagall raised her brown.

“…let me go… please… let go…”

Hermione Granger watched with a pity when the lightly build man roll up. She was not sure if it was a good thing that he was now quiet. Actually, the girl was quite sure it was not a good thing, not at all. Hermione was just about to open her mouth to say something when the head master Dumbledore ran in the middle of the situation.

“Minerva, Argus… What is going on?” he frowned when he saw the naked man on the floor. Then he bent to take a closer look of this little creature.

They were all taken aback when the man gave him angry hiss. It was so catlike, as the man himself, that some of the students first thought there really were a cat somewhere near.

“Do not touch me”, it was a low voided warning that held real danger in it.

“Calm down, dear”, Professor McGonagall said gently. “Could you possibly think you could put some clothes on?”

Raven-haired man shrugged, keeping eye on them all. “I have none. In here, anyway.”

She pinched her lips tight and asked one of the students to get him something to wear. This seemed to amuse the catlike man.

“Tell me, do you have a name, mister?”

Draco Malfoy watched carefully the unknown man. He surely was beautiful and did not seem to care the fact that he was absolutely naked. Suddenly he turned his head and met young Draco’s stare.

How had he known?

The Slytherin boy noticed that the man’s ears were pointed. He frowned. Was the man some kind of fairy? Or gobbling?

The boy chuckled. He could not be any kind of gobbling; they were so ugly.

“Did you not here me?” Professor McGonagall asked annoyed and touched the man’s shoulder lightly. This was not a wise thing to do.

The man backed away hissing.

“Do not touch me.” Again that softly spoken warning that made a tingle ran down Draco’s spine – as it did with every one else in the Great Hall.

She held her hands up. “Forgive me. What is your name?”

For a moment they all thought he was not going to answer. Then he softly told them: “Saramil.”

Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows sprang up. Never in her life had she heard a name like this. And never had she got the feeling that this was not the intruder’s – as Filch had called him – last name as was the habit in England. But she did not have any choice…

The student that had been sent to get some clothes arrived. Saramil took the offered clothes and put them on with a shrug. Actually, he did not put them all… Only pants and shirt, the rest he gave back to the boy, who took them looking astonished.

“Well, Mr. Saramil…”

The catlike man laughed. She gave him The Look over her spectacles.

Most of the students gasped. Saramil did not even flinch; he just smiled to her.

“It is not my last name, milady. I do not even have one, none of my kind has. And I really do not want you to call me son of Ofayir.”

She gasped and frowned. This was a way too much to her…

His kind?

“So please, Saramil, tell us, why you were doing what ever you were doing when Mr. Filch found you”, Dumbledore’s soft voice take the lead.

“I tried to get inside, of course”, Sarami told lifting one of his eyebrow as if they were asking self-evident questions from him.

A great gasp came out of the students. Most of the professors frowned. The head master did not seem to care, though.

“And may I ask why?”

“I wanted to found some who could tell me were I had landed this time”, the lightly-build man sounded a bit bored, like he was sure he would not like the answer what ever it would be.

‘This time?’ Draco wandered. ‘He sounds like his been traveling with out his will…’

“You are in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“And that would be were exactly?” Saramil asked, raising his eyebrow again.

Draco watched this with interest. This man used his expressions very well, saying more with them than with his words. The blonde nodded himself. Yes, this was an elegant man indeed. Though, something told young Malfoy that this man had humor and something else…

“In England”, Professor Snape said dryly.

“Not again!” Saramil rolled his eyes. “This really is starting to…” He muttered something they could not hear. “So, what year it is?”

With a frown McGonagall answered: “2003.”

“Then they are not even born… Or rather, Lizard has not… But I have, of course, time to wait. Though, with my luck this is some other place… And I happen to miss my black-skinned lover”, the raven-haired man seemed to think out loud.

Most of them blink once, twice… What on Earth was the man talking about?

“This place is full of magic”, Saramil said suddenly. “It is different from what I am used to, though.”

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked.

“That it is different. There is magic in here, but it is not the kind I am used to. It is very dissimilar to…” he cut his sentence from the middle.

“Please, go on”, Professor McGonagall said softly.

He glanced at her.

“You magic, if you do not mind, is very different from mine”, Saramil said then simply. And to confuse them little more he continued. “And I am not a wizard or anything like that, as I assume that you are… At least most of you.”

“If you are not a wizard, then how come there is magic in you?” Draco had opened his mouth without noticing it really.

“I am an elf, as human beings usually calls us. Magic is part of my kind, the part that really makes us different from you”, the catlike man shrugged. He wondered why he bothered to explain to these people anything.

There was silence. It was a shocked silence that lands when your not sure if the other has lost it or did you heard something that the other did not said.

Saramil looked around. They did not believe him. He shrugged. He really had not even expected them to.

“Can you help me back to Tarikaris?” he asked then, hopping. “Please?”