Complete. One-shot ficlet about Salazar Slytherin and his father. Fluff. Salazar/Rowena
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Clutching his silver robes, dark green boots scraped the flawlessly polished marble floor as Soren Slytherin marched determinately down the large corridor. The echo of his tapping feet vibrated throughout the hall and Soren knew that it inevitably heralded his coming. 'Good' he mused to himself. 'I want him to know that I am coming.' Sure enough his unmistakable footfalls altered the medusa guard that stood at the end of the corridor, who straightened and bowed humbly as he approached. "My lordsssssss..." the heavily hooded creature hissed in respectful greeting.
"Is he still in there?" Soren's deep voice questioned as he frowned at the closed doors.
The cloaked figure nodded again. "Yessss lordssss Sssslytherin. The boy hassss not movedsss. I have made sssure,"
Soren gave a curt nod. "You are dismissed guard. I will deal with my son now,"
The medusa gave a low bow. "As you wissssh Lordsss Sssslytherin," Without another word, the hooded medusa sunk back into the shadows and promptly disappeared. Soren watched the guard leave, and then with a heavy sigh he creaked open the mighty oaken doors.
The occupant inside looked up quickly and darted away as Soren entered. The Slytherin wizard frowned deeply and stood at the doorway. "Salazar!" he roared. From a dark corner he heard the sniffled sound of his son. Soren fixed his gaze at that corner and marched over, hearing his son squeak in fear but the boy made no move to run. The older wizard stopped short and promptly sat in a near-by chair. "Come out Salazar, Papa is not angry at you," Soren said, gesturing with an open arm towards the dark corner.
With a tiny yelp, a small eight-year old boy dashed out of the shadows and hurled himself into his father's lap. "Papa?" he murmured, looking up at his great father with wide, awe-filled eyes.
Soren cuddled his son briefly but soon pulled the boy away and sat him on his knee. "Salazar I must ask you; were you a good boy today?"
The young Slytherin hung his head, avoiding his father's gaze. Silently he shook his head.
"Good. At least you know you did something wrong. Many men and wizards commit faults in the name of good, but never ever realize the injustice of it all. Now, tell me what you did wrong," Soren ordered, his voice brooking no evasion.
Salazar looked up pitifully, obviously confused and not completely understanding why he was in trouble. "I set Rowena's hair on fire..." the little boy muttered softly. Then he suddenly looked up and clenched his fist. "It grew back! It didn't hurt her! It wasn't real fire! It was ma-gik fire! It—" Salazar immediately froze at his father's reprimanding stare. Dejectedly, he hung his head again. "It did grow back," he murmured under his breath.
Soren continued to award his son The Stare. "That is besides the point Salazar. The young Lady Ravenclaw was a guest in our house and you were a very poor host. You are lucky her father didn't come over and hex you senseless. You are even more fortunate she still wants to play with you, burned hair and all,"
"What!" Salazar's head immediately snapped upwards to face his father, his expression filled with complete dread. "No! She never leaves me alone!" the young boy wailed, his voice filled with frustration. "She follows me everywhere! And she never stops talking! And she always wants to hold hands!" the boy gave a shudder and stuck out his tongue, obviously disgusted by the whole situation the Ravenclaw girl was inflicted upon his young self.
To Salazar's surprise his father just chuckled. The boy was confused; he had expected his father to understand his situation, not ridicule it. Soren awarded his young son a wry smile. "Oh, is holding hands so bad?"
Salazar stared at his father in disbelief. "She's a girl," the boy gagged, wondering why in all of Serpentine his father didn't think it was reason enough.
The older wizard couldn't help but chuckle more at his son's expense. Salazar looked up at him unhappily, probably thinking his father had fallen into some temporary lapse of sanity. "Come now, my son. Isn't Mama a girl too? And you like to hold hands with her… Papa does too, among other things…" Soren mused, a sly grin coming to his face and he scratched his chin distractedly.
"Mama is different," Salazar's small face frowned at the shift in attention and he tugged as his father's beard demandingly. "Make Rowena go away Papa. Please?"
Soren glanced down at his young son. "I am afraid my little serpent I cannot do that. Not until you apologize to young Rowena. You have wronged her and now you must swallow your pride and apologize. I will not have it said that Slytherins are without manners. We are a noble High Family Salazar, and must act as it befits our status. Furthermore, Lord Ravenclaw is one of Papa's closest allies and friends. You would not want Papa to look bad, would you?"
The little boy shook his head sharply. "No Papa. No,"
Smiling warmly, the older wizard patted his son's head. The boy simply worshipped him in all ways young children look up to their parents. "And you do not really dislike Rowena, do you? You still want to be friends with her, true?"
Salazar looked at his father wearily. "She tried to kiss me," he made it sound like it was the most awful hex in the known wizarding world.
"And that is bad?" Soren grinned.
"Yes!" the small boy retorted vehemently, looking very lost, frustrated, and confused.
This time, Soren could not help but released the peals of laughter that followed, laughing so hard he doubled over, slapping his empty knee. Salazar just stared at his father's reaction. This was getting no where. He had to complain to Mama. She was smarter.
"Ah hah ha… my son, my innocent son. If young Rowena is the daughter of her mother then she is going to grow up into probably the most beautiful witch of her time and you my dear boy, are going to find yourself in quite a pickle."
Salazar tiled his head to one side, not completely understanding. "Huh?"
Soren assumed a thoughtful expression, cupping his chin curiously. "Tell me my son, what do you like?"
"Sssnakes!" the little Slytherin responded quickly; so excited that his accent lapsed briefly into the revered Parseltongue language.
Soren briefly smiled, both with envy and fatherly pride. "Well son, Papa used to like snakes too. Papa used to love snakes over all else. But then you know what happened?" he questioned, leaning forward and going into his 'story-teller' voice. Salazar shook his head, eyes wide with anticipation. "Papa grew up. And then you know what happened?" Again, the little boy shook his head and watched his father eagerly. Soren leaned a lot closer, so he could whisper and still be heard. "Papa started to like girls,"
Salazar's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "No…" he whispered back, his voice cracking slightly.
Soren nodded vigorously, eyes never leaving his son's. "When Papa grew up, all he could think about were girls,"
The little boy whimpered, eyes starting to water.
"Not only that, but Papa wanted to do things with girls. Papa wanted to talk with girls, hold hands with girls," and this is when Soren grinned most wickedly, staring dead-eyed at his son. "Papa even wanted to kiss girls!"
"Noooo!" Salazar wailed, clutching his tiny fist together.
"So my son, when you grow up, you are going to start liking girls. And Rowena is going to be the prettiest girl ever. And you will want to kiss her… willingly," Soren shook his head sadly. "And then my son, that's when the wedding comes. And you will be her prisoner forever and ever,"
Salazar cracked. "NOOOO!" the little Slytherin howled, breaking into a torrent of tears.
"SOREN!" a new voice suddenly boomed into the room. The older wizard stiffened as he felt the doors whoosh open.
"MAMA!" Salazar's strangled sobs cried out as he hopped of his father's lap and dashed into his mother's arms.
"Soren what did you do?" the witch rebuked, patting the hair of her son soothingly.
"He cursed Rhesus' daughter and needed to be punished," Soren explained evenly, standing up from his chair. "Salazar, you will go now and apologize to Rowena. Or else you will start liking girls faster!"
Salazar's shimmering green eyes froze in abject terror for a moment, before his little body tore down the corridor at full speed, bowling over a few lizardfolk soldiers in the process.
Salazar's mother turned to her husband with a dark frown. "You sir, are the most sadistic and evil wizard I have ever met,"
Soren smiled roguishly and tugged his wife closer by her waist. "And that's why you love me, my beautiful witch," he murmured before kissing her.
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Rowena was quietly reading a book about Algebra when she heard a familiar shuffle approach. She pondered greeting him but decided to just purposefully ignore the Slytherin. Salazar eyed Rowena's back unhappily. This was painful for him but then again, this was a punishment. His pet snake, Venom, hissed soothing sounds into his ear and the boy scratched its head appreciatively.
"Hullo Rowena," the boy mumbled.
Rowena turned about and said in mock surprise. "Oh, it's you. Well I'm not talking to you anymore. So there." With that she snapped back to her book, but her attention was still on the young dark haired wizard.
Salazar groaned inwardly at the cruelty of it all. Here, he had finally gotten rid of the annoying Ravenclaw but now he had to make amends. But he had to do it. For Papa. And for himself. He did not relish the idea of liking girls any time soon. He gave a slight cough, as if to loosen the words he was about to say. He saw Rowena turn slightly, her blue eyes glaring at him suspiciously but with a touch of curiosity. Salazar took a deep breath, it was now or never. "I – Salazar Slee-de-rin, son of Soren – want to extend my soh-leem apologee to the Lady Rowena Raven-claw of de Keep and beg she fo-give my laps in eh-ti-ket," Salazar droned, remembering a few words from his lessons in noble conduct. And to top it of, he gave a low bow.
Rowena blinked once, twice, and then with a joyous shriek she jumped to her feet and threw herself at the extremely startled Salazar. "You like me!" she squealed happily, squeezing her arms around his neck.
"Wha-? NO! Lemme go!" Salazar hissed, completely befuddled by her reaction. "I never said that!"
"If you didn't like me, you wouldn't have said sorry! You like me! And I like you! And we are going to get married!" Rowena declared, snuggling her face into the unhappy boy's neck.
Salazar gave a yelp and somehow wiggled out of the girl's grasp. "We are NOT getting married!" he yelled, glaring in confusion and anger at the happily smiling girl. Why was she smiling?
Rowena giggled and flicked her hair absently. "Yes we are. My daddy said so. He said we are be-throw-eth! We are both from High Families. When we grow up, we are going to get married. Now you must kiss me," she closed her eyes and puckered up.
Salazar gave her the look of death. "Yuck! Girls give witch-germs!" with that, he turned tail and ran.
Rowena fumed. "Salazar Slytherin! You come back here and kiss me!"
Salazar turned and stuck out his tongue. "Never!" he swore, jumping into a nearby tree and climbing nimbly through its branches.
The young witch stomped her foot. "Fine! I don't want to kiss you anyway! You smell!"
Salazar hung from a branch. "No I don't!"
"Yes you do!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
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(15 years later)
"Do not…" Salazar murmured absently, his finger briefly trailing his lover's fine brown hair.
Rowena lifted her head from Salazar's shoulder. "Did you say something Salazar?"
An older Slytherin looked down at the beautiful brunette haired witch, pressed dreamily against his chest. "Just thinking," he said softly, idly stroking Rowena' face.
"About?" she asked, searching his deep emerald eyes. Rowena was ever the inquisitive one, always hungry for knowledge and answers.
Salazar sighed and leaned back into the tree trunk behind him. The stars above twinkled brightly and danced above in innocent abandon. The music of the night forest and the murmured crackle of their campfire the only sound that echoed in the night. "About my father…" the wizard finally said. "About… about something he told me… long ago,"
Knowing this was a painful subject for her love, Rowena soothingly caressed his shoulder. "He was a good man, your father,"
"I miss him," Salazar whispered softly. "And my mother too…" he trailed of, eyes wandering towards the fire, seeing something no one else could.
"Salazar?" Rowena questioned after a rather lenghty silence.
The dark haired wizard seemed to snap back from some distant place and stared at the young witch uncertainly at first. Then, his emerald eyes began to focus and he shook his head, like a man waking from a dream. "I am sorry my love. I – I was just thinking—"
Rowena smiled teasingly, hoping to lessen the sudden tension. "You think too much love, leave that to me,"
Salazar returned her smile, and casually wrapped his arm around her lithe body, drawing her closer to him as he leaned to ki—
"RUNNNNNNNN!" a voice hollered through the night sky as a flash of maroon and gold flashed by the supposedly sleeping lovers. They broke away immediately, just in time to hear another rumbling roar split the dark night.
"Wha--? Huh? What?" Helga cried as she sat up abruptly from her sleep.
Suddenly the moonlight was blocked as an enormous creature soared overhear, sending ear-splitting roars into the night sky. Fire streaked through the sky as the awesome beast arrowed downwards.
"Godric! What did you do!" Salazar yelped, disentangling himself from Rowena.
The Gryffindor wizard turned about ruefully, a guilty half-grin on his face. "Um, hey did you know that sleeping dragons are still ticklish? So um, do not attempt to tickle them even if they are asleep! Valuable lesson, yes?"
Salazar glared at his friend and then at Rowena, when she tugged his sleeve. "If we survive this you promise to kiss me?"
The wizard groaned. "Not only will I kiss you Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, but I will make wild, passionate love to you as well," Salazar replied earnestly.
"Can we focus here?" Helga hollered as the dragon took another swipe at Godric.
Salazar grinned and took Rowena's hand and together they ran of into the sunse-- I mean, flaming dragon.
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- Fin. Review?