Thick Walls, Thicker Bonds

Chapter Nine

The children were in one of their greenhouses as Neville showed off his new giant pitcher plant, which he was growing to harvest the intestinal juices for a special potion that would increase the growth and production of various other plants. They were back again for the third time, and the boy was no longer as reserved or wary around Sammael. Sammael watched from the veranda, leaning on the marble railing, with a smile on his face. Neville was much more comfortable now than he had ever been, his young face was fairly glowing with life. If Neville was made this happy because of the Hufflepuff Seeker and the strange little Raven (who Sammael suspected was either a Seer, or one gifted to see magic), he would happily give the two of them each their own rooms, to keep them near Neville as much as possible.

Of course, their own parents might object to that.

The more Sammael spent in this new time, the more he was saddened by the state of his Familial Line's reputations. When people heard his last name, or recognized him, nine times out of ten they would either turn away, tremble in fear, or look down their noses in disgust.

But he tried not to focus too hard on that. It was on his 'to do' list for the following months, to try and restore honour to the Slytherin name. He'd already bought up several hundred acres of good woodland in Scotland, Ireland and various places in England, and set about contractors to building houses on them. He planned on contacting various Werewolf packs and giving them the properties, as well as information on how to make the transformations less painful. With luck, within a decade or two the werewolves may be able to be restored to their former glory.

Not only that, but he recently began attending a couple Wizengamot meetings; he'd contacted the Minister of Magic, made connections. He'd planted the idea of a primary school to introduce Muggleborns more smoothly into society, and for wizarding children to learn to read, write, and basic maths and science skills. Many people had taken the idea well, others… not so much. But Sammael was optimistic.

He looked down at the letter he held in his hand. Dumbledore again. No words could describe the contempt he felt for that man. This time, the letter was delivered by owl, not phoenix. The owl wasn't even able to fly through the wards, Kai had to rescue the poor thing. Dumbledore had contacted him after Sammael had raised the matter of his primary school idea. Now, he was trying to convince Sammael for funding to make said primary school a branch off of Hogwarts. Sammael snorted out loud as he ripped up the letter. The old man had babbled about having similar ideals, and 'despite the unfortunate circumstances' wherewith they'd met, he was sure they'd be able to see eye-to-eye.

A small, childish part of Sammael's brain started thinking up names for his primary school that would annoy the Headmaster. "Slytherin Snakepit" "Slytherin's School for Gifted Youngesters" "Serpentscale School of Dark Arts". He didn't realize he'd been muttering out loud until Kai and Besnik joined in.

"'Besnik's Nest for Magical Hatchlings'" Besnik suggested.

"Phoenixfeather Academy of Magic"

"Snakey Snakey Elementary"

"Everfire Primary"

"How's that going bug the Dumby?"

"Oh, it that what we're trying to figure out? I thought we were arguing who the school is going to be named after."