The Son of Salazar

Chapter Seven

Yes, Salazar WILL eventually get married and have other children. It's just that Sammael is his first, he wasn't ready to be married in the first chapter. However, I would like to point out that wizards live longer than muggles (I'm thinking the average would be around 300 years), at this point Sal is in his 40s, so he's still got a long life ahead. He's still a relatively young man. Especially since, if I'm remembering correctly, the average life expectancy in the 10th century was around 35-40. So when you put that in perspective…idk. I'm horrible at maths you figure it out. xD

I think that answered all the questions, if I missed one or you have another, let me know!

May the gods be ever in your favour!

-James

Sammael had never hated anyone before. Not Uncle Vernon who beat the crud out of him on a regular basis. Not Aunt Petunia who had simply stood by and watched. Certainly nobody he'd ever met in the last ten years… but he was certain he absolutely hated Lucetta Portia Tayte. He despised her with every fiber of his being. He stared at the gorgeous, dark beauty with her shapely body, long black curls and cow-like blue eyes. No, he wasn't staring. He was glaring, the look in his eyes literally sparking with angry accidental magic. He hated this witch… who had somehow enchanted his Papa.

He was sitting atop a tall ash tree, his phoenix perched on his shoulder and his basilisk familiar wrapped around his torso. Kai, his phoenix who had accepted him as a friend on his tenth birthday, sympathetically crooned, pulling at Sammael's hair with his golden beak. His brilliant feathers, under a disillusionment charm so that they were not spotted, flashed a melancholy muted orange and white, unlike his normally blazing reds and gold. Besnik, his familiar had been gifted to him when the serpent king was but an egg, once again on his tenth birthday. Salazar had taught him how to spell a toad to "warm" the egg, never moving from its spot. Besnik had hatched two months later, only five inches long, barely a centimeter wide. At birth, his scales had been a pale grey-blue. As he matured, they'd become a dark green. Now, the adolescent basilisk was almost six years old, nearing ten feet in length, and was as wide around as one of Sammael's thighs. Of course, this didn't stop the almost 100 pound snake from draping itself around his master's body.

Not that it bothered Sammael. Truly, he'd been blessed by the deities of luck in his tenth year, for that was truly the best year of his life. For after he'd been gifted the basilisk egg and the phoenix friend, he'd been offered the greatest gift he'd ever received: Salazar had blood adopted him. While he was still lithe and wiry, his body lean and graceful like a snake's, he was no longer small and pathetic looking. He, at sixteen years and ten months, was nearing six feet in height. Not a giant, but certainly not small. A good deal of muscle was packed to his frame. His skin was still pale, his eyes the same unnerving shade of "Slytherin Green". His hair was slightly less unruly, instead handing straight like his Papa's down his back, tied into a tail. He was a strong lad, influenced by his Uncle, he'd taken to physical exertion, enjoying long treks through the forest, climbing trees and bluffs, swimming in the lake and exploring the various caves. So he was well equipped to handle the heavy serpent who was muttering in his ear.

"I can eat her if you'd like," his loyal familiar told him, every bit of him deadly serious. Sammael considered the offer, stroking the underside of Besnik's jaw. Lady Tayte was laughing at something Papa had said, her arm looped through one of his own. For some unearthly reason, Salazar actually looked pleased. "Though I'll bet she tastes horrible."