The Son of Salazar

Chapter Three

May the gods be ever in your favour!

-James

Sammael took to his new life with a strange sort of joy he'd never felt before. It was like he was glowing, on the inside. It started deep inside and spread warmth all the way out until he was certain he'd just float off the ground and away. He had a Papa, and an Uncle, and two Aunts. Not to mention a HUGE house that belonged to just the five of them. He loved his new name: Sammael. He'd often whisper it to himself, just to make sure he remembered it, and that it was really his. Papa had said it was a noble name, fitting of only the finest wizard.

Sammael beamed as he lay in his nice, comfy bed. His Papa thought he was the finest wizard. His Papa was so kind. Sammael squirmed, eager to start the day. But no one had come for him yet. The sun sent beams of light trickling through his window. It lit up the room. HIS room. AND IT WAS SOOOOO BIG! There was a wide window, which a soft cushion on its ledge, big enough for both him and his Papa to sit on. There were shelves along the far wall. They were mostly empty, but Auntie Helga had promised that she would take him to a special place to buy him some things.

There was thick carpet that his bare toes could just sink into, all over the floor. The curtains on the window were soft and silky. His bed was three times as big as the one in, what he now knew was, the mediward, and it was even comfier. Uncle God had turned some of his own clothes into robes that fit Sammael, and they were now carefully folded in a black and silver lined trunk that sat at the edge of his bed.

Sammael sighed happily. He loved his room. He'd never had one before, but he was certain that not even Dudley would ever had a room this wonderful. The fireplace crackled invitingly, keeping him warm. Papa had lit it himself, with his magic wand no less. Sammael wriggled happily. Auntie Rowena said that she'd make him one, all his own.

A knock on the door startled Sammael from his thoughts. "Little Snake?" A gentle voice asked as the door opened. His Papa, Sammael saw—though he hadn't actually called the man that out loud. What would he think? Would he grow angry? Would he mind? Better keep it to himself, he remembered Uncle God had called Mr. Lord Slytherin his Papa, and so had Auntie Helga. But the little creatures that ran around the castle, and did things Freak—I mean, Sammael—would normally do, called him Master Lord Slytherin.

Sammael smiled at the man and sat up. Lord Slytherin was wearing dark, dark green robes; they were almost black. His long hair was hanging loose, though, unlike yesterday. His wand was tucked behind his ear, like Sammael had sometimes seen Petunia do with a pencil. "Good morning, Lord Slytherin." For some reason, this made the kind man frown—even more so than usual. Sammael's heart sped up frantically. Oh, no. Had he done something wrong? Would his new Papa not want him anymore? What did he do? Did he get Papa's name wrong? What did he say?

"None of that, boy," Sammael flinched involuntarily, and the man frowned more deeply. Sammael wanted to bolt, but he couldn't. Wouldn't. Not after everything the good, kind wizard had done. So he stayed. "My name is Salazar, and that is what you may call me." Sammael nodded, wordlessly. "Good," said Salazar, pulling the blankets gently down from around the tiny boy's shoulders. "Come, let me dress you and we shall be off. No doubt 'Uncle God'," Salazar said the name in a derisive tone. "Will have eaten all of the pastries by the time we've gotten into the hall, if we don't hurry." Sammael giggled, losing some of the tension as loving hands picked him up, then set him down, gently, on the floor. Sammael didn't know if he should mention that he already knew how to dress himself (he was a big boy now) but then again, Dudley still let Petunia dress him, and Sammael was younger than he. Also, no one had ever done that for Sammael… that he could remember, anyway. It felt… nice.