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[OOM: Pre-Milliways: Salazar Slytherin prepares for a trip to meet his beloved Madaeze. He doesn't quite make it that far.]

Salazar Slytherin enters what he thinks is a tent in Diagon Alley. He, of course, is very wrong.

He groans heavily and turns back around to a blank wall. He isn't going home just yet.

His hands move over the wall as he murmurs some spells.

Blasted thing.

He closes his eyes and rubs his eyelids gently, his hissing low and guttural. Unless you can speak to snakes, chances are you won't understand him.

"BLASTED THING!"

Not too happy, that Salazar Slytherin.

[ooc: note to people: Plzkthnx no more threads? He'll be back tomorrow. note to self: have slow-timed with Arithon.]

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Salazar Slytherin eyes the boy warily. "You have the same speech as I; I suppose so. What lineage are you?"

"I'm a pureblood, if that's what you're asking," Ron answered darkly, as it was becoming obvious that his suspicions were justified.

Still, it wasn't a good idea to get this fellow hacked off.

Especially since he had no idea who he was.

In fact, Ron thought, he ought to try to find out that very thing.

"Not that it means anything to these people," he said in a snooty voice that was his very best imitation of Malfoy. "They let all sorts in here. It's disgusting."

Salazar makes a very distinct hissing noise at Ron.

"Yes. I'm sure they do. I was once here before. Perhaps you have seen the others, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw.. Hufflepuff."

Ron was immediately confused. "They were in those houses, or..." he trailed off.

"Er, what's your name, sir?" he asked, his eyes widening slightly. He twitched, but it was nearly imperceptible.

Salazar rubs his eyes, annoyed. "I am the last of the Sons of Slytherin. I am called Salazar by my equals. You shall call me Master Slytherin."

Ron froze in place. For a moment, he was completely still and unmoving, utterly horrified.

Maybe his parents were just sick a twisted and really uncreative with names... he thought.

But he knew that wasn't the truth.

He was talking to the most powerful evil wizard of all time.

His hand tightened around his wand.

The one that had created the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets--that had caused his sister to be possessed and nearly killed, his best friend to nearly be killed, and his other best friend to be petrified. He was the wizard that had started pureblooded prejudice--or at least institutionalized it--that had, essentially, set up Voldemort and the entire war and everything bad that had ever happened in Ron's world, and to the people he loved.

For a moment, rules be damned, he considered pulling out his wand and trying to kill him. The man wouldn't expect it. He might actually get a curse off before Slytherin could.

However, he heard a voice in his head, nagging and reproachful that was almost like a mental Hermione:

Ronald Weasley! Don't you even think about meddling with time; you could change time and destroy everything you know!

Besides, he'd probably be dead before he finished lifting his wand.

More than that, it would interfere with time in such a grand manner that everything he knew and loved would be obliterated. It could make him and everyone else, his family, Harry, Hermione, Tonks, Lupin, everyone, cease to exist and cause who-knew-what damage.

No, he couldn't change anything...but maybe he could at least make sure he'd be able to warn everyone if Slytherin was going to try something in the bar.

Evil gits always wanted lackeys, right?

Even though he knew it was entirely too dangerous, even though it killed him to call anyone "master," and even though every instinct told him to get up and run away, Ron said, "Yes...Master Slytherin."

Salazar turns to Ron, his face etched with slight mystification. No one besides the various servants he commanded in his castle called him Master and seemed to mean it.

"And your name young one?"

Ron searched his mind frantically, trying to think of a good pureblood name besides his own or any attached to his family's past, like "Prewett."

"Um...Ro-Rolus...Black. Rolus Black, master."

"A fine name. So, Young Master Rolus Black. Tell me." Salazar Slytherin gazes at Ron, trying to make eye contact. He's not a fool; he won't let his guard down in a strange place such as this, even to a pureblood.

"Tell me how one would go about releasing onesself from this place? Surely a wizard could find a spell easily that would break the hold this place has?"

Ron briefly wondered why the man kept trying to catch his gaze and then remembered what little Harry had told him about Occlumency and Legilimency.

"--you've got to look someone in the eyes to use Legilimency. Which is funny, because I'd always though that Snape and Dumbledore could read my mind or something when they looked me in the eye..."

He quickly avoided the man's gaze, trying to make it look accidental.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Master Slytherin. I'm trapped myself. I've heard that there's some really powerful magic that Binds people to this place." He tried to think of some suckup Malfoy-ish thing to say.

"Er...I'm sure you'll find a way, though, being a powerful wizard such as yourself."

Salazar grins smugly in spite of himself.

"Yes, I shall." He walks to a table and beckons for Ron to follow him.

"Eventually. But for now, I will have something to eat and drink. Have you eaten and drunk here?"

"Er, yes, I'm fine," Ron said, nervous about accepting anything to eat or drink from the man. Or really, just accepting anything from the man. He wanted to just up and run away really, but he was afraid of how Slytherin would take it.

He did go over and sit down, however.

Oh Merlin, what am I getting myself into...?

"What would you advise I try young Master Black?" Again Slytherin tries to make eye contact. There's definitely something off about the boy, no doubt, but what it is is uncertain at present.

Perhaps he's a bit touched.

"Er...firewhiskey's good here," Ron said with a nod. "And, er...they make a really good steak."

Still with the eye avoiding. Ron scratched the back of his neck nervously. It was a furtive gesture that probably did make him look a little slow.

"Ah.. that sounds fine." He beckons to a passing rat. "Two.." He looks to Ron. "Firewhiskeys and two.. steaks."

When the rat leaves, Slytherin looks back to Ron.

"Rather filthy idea, having rats serve. I have every elf wash themselves every morning."

"Nasty little things they are," Ron nodded solemnly.

Now what would Malfoy say?

"Er...my father had the house-elfs at home do the very same--before I got trapped in this place. Now I have to work like a house-elf to eat. It's dreadful."

"You work here? That is quite dreadful. Should I find a way out, shall I notify you? And what would your father's name be, should I wish to have an audience with him once we do leave?"

The wait rats appears again with the order. Slytherin smirks evilly and sticks out his legs, making the rat trip. The food and drink go flying.

Slytherin laughs heartily. "At least elves can avoid spilling everything."

Ron nearly started when he asked all those questions. "Er, do tell me if you do, yes," he stuttered.

The tripping rat was a lifesaver.

"I'll go talk to them about that rat, Master Slytherin. Maybe they'll put it down," he said, quickly standing, and picking the rat up by the scruff of its neck, trying to look very disgusted as he did it, even though he liked rodents.

"Good day to you, sir," he said, and then he left briskly, trying to look like a busy servant-type.

When he was out of sight of Slytherin, he leaned against the wall inside the kitchen, crouched down, and put the wait-rat, who was squeaking at him indignantly, on the floor. Then he reached into his apron pocket for a chocolate frog, unwrapped it, and handed it to the little critter. "Sorry about that, mate, and thanks. You're a life-saver. Probably literally." Then he leaned back against the wall and sighed in relief.

Slytherin stares after the retreating "Rolus" annoyedly.

I will have the truth yet boy.

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