The Son of Salazar

Chapter Ten

May the gods be ever in your favour,

-James

Sammael woke up with Besnik on his face. He groaned in fond annoyance, shoving the snake off. Besnik fell to the floor with a thump and an angry hiss, which Samael ignored. The sun was shining brightly through his windows, it was a beautiful day outside. He yawned and stretched before sliding out of bed to make his way to the showers. Kai greeted him as he walked past, Sammael stroked his soft feathers as he passed him.

As he stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed and awake, he summoned his wand, casting a tempus charm. He'd slept in. It was nearly ten in the morning. Sammael frowned, wondering why no one had come to wake him, then his brushed it off. Helga probably told the elves not to bother him, that he was still recovering. Sammael shrugged, deciding that he'd just have to visit her at the infirmary later, to convince her that he was alright.

He pulled a tunic on over his head before slipping his outer robes over his shoulders. He let his hair flow down naturally, tossing his head a bit to get it to lay down all the way. He waved his wand in a grooming spell Helga had taught him, that got rid of the snarls and smoothed the fly-aways.

Sensing that he was getting ready to leave, Besnik wound his way up onto his Master's shoulders, his large body wrapped twice around Sammael's torso before the rest of him draped over the young man's slender frame. Kai fluttered over, alighting on Sammael's head. With a laugh, Sammael let her. Together, they left Sammael's bedroom. The halls were strangely quiet. It was disconcerting. His footfalls seemed louder than normal as they echoed against the vast walls. Sammael couldn't help but feel that something was off this morning, but he couldn't quite tell what.

"There is a strange scent in the air," Besnik noted. Sammael nodded, even though he obviously couldn't smell it for himself. "It's reeks of pain. Someone is in pain."

"Who?" Sammael asked. Kai perked up, thinking that perhaps his services would be needed.

"I cannot tell," Besnik said after a moment of flicking his tongue in the air. He swiveled his head around, this way and that. "Either a new someone. Or someone who has changed. Or many people at once." Besnik turned his face towards the East. In the direction of the Mediward. Slowly, pieces started coming together in Sammael's mind as his body sprung into action before his brain had caught up. He broke into a run, startling Kai off of his head. The phoenix flew behind him.

He ran more carelessly and clumsily than he had ever done anything in his life. He cursed and sworn loudly every time he tripped (which was often). Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong, this was something that grew more apparent with each step that Sammael took. Sammael wasn't stupid. Sammael wasn't naïve. Something had happen to Godric and Papa, that's why everything felt off, why they were gone yesterday.

He drew near to the door of the mediward, tripping over an empty suit of armour, sending it crashing down. Sammael got up as soon as he hit the floor, ignoring the ache that shot up his leg. Besnik was hissing in annoyance, trying to cover up the worry that he felt over his human's behaviour. Sammael reached for the bronze handles of the doors, only to freeze.

Mundanes. Godric had gone to speak with the Mundanes. Papa followed to drag him back. Back away from the same Mundanes that nearly cost Sammael his magic. A tremor started on his hand, working its way up his arm until he was trembling all over. This wasn't right. Why was he acting this way? Ever since the Mundane Incident in Hogsmeade, he wasn't able to see or sense Magic without growing a horrible headache. But he could still feel echoes every now and then. What he was feeling now was almost like an echo—familiar but off. Sammael focused as hard as he could on whatever was behind those doors, fearing what he would see should he open them.