Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon
Chapter Seven
Amy spent the better part of the next few days learning new Defensive Spells, mainly from Godric as she wore on Salazar's patience. Instead, he watched on and marveled at his friend's ability to coax a charm from her. He was gentle where Salazar was demanding, encouraging where Salazar was demeaning.
He might have been jealous of Godric's teaching style if it wasn't evident that his own worked on occasion too, especially with some of the more difficult spells. With Salazar berating her for her failure, she grew even more determined to prove him wrong.
"A Flame-Freezing Charm is the most important one you will need to fight a dragon," he insisted, realizing Godric would never get this from her. "If you can't manage even a decent one then there's no way even Godric can agree that you should go with us." Salazar turned to Godric for support, who had conveniently lifted a jug of water to his lips so that he avoided having to answer.
"I can do it," Amy ground out, raising her wand to try again.
"You haven't yet," Salazar reminded her. He marched around her, taking in her stance and the way she held her wand. It was all wrong.
"No, no, no," he said, taking her arm and repositioning it. "You're all wrong. Like this." If his hand hesitated on her wrist a moment longer than absolutely necessary, it was because he didn't want her getting herself or him killed later on when she insisted on coming with them.
Godric threw another fireball at them. Salazar held her arm steady and listened as she said the charm. The same spark of energy coursed through him, just as it had before. A warm breeze rushed over them while the flames crackled as they turned to ice in midair, landing in the dirt with a thud. Taking a step back breathless, he smirked when she turned and stomped her foot.
"I can do it myself!"
"Then show me." She tried again, this time though only the tip of the flames turned cold. She had to duck to keep from being burned.
"I just need some more practice," she said, biting her lip. She put out the fire with a stream of water from her wand. "And a rest. I'm going to take a walk."
Salazar nodded, watching her go. He couldn't keep his eyes off the way the skirt of her dress danced in the breeze and the short glances of her ankles it provided him. Godric came and stood beside him, also enjoying the view.
"She's progressing nicely," he commented. Salazar shook his head.
"Not fast enough."
"You want too much, too quickly," Godric argued.
"I didn't want any of this, if you'll remember correctly," he said, a sudden and strong longing coming over him for his small hut filled with potions ingredients, a few cauldrons, and a bed pushed into the corner. He didn't let Godric answer, but walked off in the opposite direction Amy had taken, deciding he needed some time alone as well.
Salazar came back to the inn several hours later to find Godric napping and Amy nowhere in sight.
"She hasn't come back yet?" Godric asked sleepily, sounding worried.
"Perhaps a blessing in disguise," Salazar said sardonically even as he turned around and started back outside. She was still weak, and a woman alone, she shouldn't be wandering around by herself.
He found her lounging in the meadow just outside the village. She sat among the tall grass, leaning back on her hands and soaking in the sun with her eyes closed. A crown of flowers rested atop her curls. He thought she looked like a goddess. Quietly, he approached her, only catching her attention with a short cough.
"There you are," he said, not knowing what else to say. He had come looking for her, but he suddenly forgot why it had been so important that they leave here. Drinking her in now, he thought he could stay here gazing at her forever.
"Here I am."
"That's a beautiful crown you're wearing, your highness. Just what do you rule over?" he teased.
"I'm just a woman. I don't rule over anything. I'm merely here as decoration."
"You don't believe that," he said, frowning at her bitter tone. "You're on a quest to battle a vicious dragon." She smiled at that, holding her hands up for him to help her. He grabbed them and pulled her up to stand.
"Those daisies are good in Shrinking Solutions," he said, reaching up to finger the flowers of her crown. "There are lots of useful ingredients around here."
"Show me?" Amy asked, looking up at him eagerly. He nodded, taking her hand in his and walking towards a group of trees.
"That hellebore there," he said pointing at the plant, "is used in the Draught of Peace."
"That sounds very nice."
"It is but you must be careful not to drink too much or you'll end up staring at nothing and drooling."
She giggled at the image. Salazar smiled at the sound. It was nice to hear a happy sound from her after days nothing but shouts of frustration. He looked around and pointed at another plant.
"And this is a key ingredient in the Draught of Living Death – a sleeping potion so powerful that if brewed incorrectly will cause the person taking it to never wake up again. Some people call it garden heliotrope, but that's not its real name. It's really named valerian."
"Amy isn't my real name either," she told him in conspiratorial whisper. He leaned in closer, breathing in the lavender scent of her hair.
"What is it?"
"Ameera. It means princess," she said.
"And are you?" She looked at him puzzled. "A princess, I mean," he clarified.
"Just a nobleman's daughter. What is your name? Your Christian name, I mean." She looked up at him with a sparkle in her eyes. They looked blue today, reflecting the color of her fresh dress. And the color had returned to her cheeks.
"My name is Salazar Slytherin."
"Salazar. Salazar," she said, trying it out on her tongue. She wrinkled her nose at him. "What an odd name."
"I didn't choose it," he said, suddenly defensive. He didn't care what this wisp of a girl thought of him or his name.
"Do they shorten it? Sal, perhaps?" she asked with a cheeky grin. She was teasing him, he realized. "Or how about Zar?" She let out a laugh, a mischievous giggle that resonated in his chest.
"Not if they want to live," he growled, stepping closer. Amy backed up, hitting the tree behind her. He towered down over her, his eyes resting on her lips. They were stained the color of raspberries and were slightly chapped from where she bit at them.
"I think I'll call you Sally," she said. He met her eyes with a cold stare. No one made fun of Salazar Slytherin. She stared back but she couldn't keep up with him. Her eyes sparkled with mirth and her mouth crept up into a smile as she let out a laugh.
"You wouldn't dare," he challenged, trying to stay serious. He edged closer and she reached out and rested her hands on his chest. Her fingers curled into the linen of his shirt, gripping it tightly.
"I'm not afraid of you," she said, her voice suddenly low and breathy. He couldn't tell if it was from laughing or nerves.
"Maybe you should be." He leaned in. She leaned in. They both tilted their heads to make room for their noses. Salazar's eyes drifted closed, and then ever so slightly he brushed his lips against hers.
"There you two are," he heard Godric boom from behind them. Salazar cursed under his breath. His friend had a canny knack for timing. "I thought we could talk strategy over dinner. We should probably get back on the road soon. Maybe even as soon as tomorrow, if you're feeling better," he said, motioning to Amy.
"I feel fine," she said. Godric nodded. He didn't wait for them to follow, but turned and lumbered on through the bush.
Amy wiggled out of his half embrace and skipped after Godric, her voice light and airy as ever as she chattered on. "We were talking about names. What does yours mean, Godric?"
"I don't know," he answered, swinging his sword to and fro to cut through the underbrush. "I never thought about it." Salazar didn't follow.
"You two go on ahead," he said, sighing inwardly. "I'm going to stay and collect ingredients."
Godric hardly looked back with a quick nod to show he had heard. Amy paused and turned around. Her eyes met Salazar's with a look of what might have been disappointment. But in the next moment, she turned away and skipped off with Godric, convincing Salazar that he must have been mistaken. No one, especially a girl like Amy, would be sad to leave Salazar when Godric was around.
Salazar got back to the inn just as the sun dipped behind the surrounding hills. Looking for his travel companions, he couldn't find either one in the taproom or in their rooms upstairs. His heart beating a little faster, he ventured outside, heading for the stables. The difference between the clamor of the inn made a striking difference. He could think out here. And his thoughts ventured down paths he didn't want it to go in regards to Amy and Godric.
It would be too sticky for the two of them to become involved romantically, with the pressure of dragon hunting mixing with the distraction of newfound love. He couldn't, or rather wouldn't admit to himself what it would mean if she liked Godric better than him.
Laughter ringing out cut off his thoughts. He looked around to find its source. He knew that giggle. But there appeared to be no one around. And yet the laughter got louder, like it was getting closer. He looked up.
A broomstick holding Godric and Amy flew circles around the inn. Salazar's heart dropped at the sight of her clutching his friend's waist while she squealed with delight. Spotting him, they prepared to land. The broom wobbled and swayed as it neared the ground. Salazar took a step back as they skidded to a stop, kicking up dust as they went.
"Want to take a turn, Salazar?" Godric asked. Amy climbed off the back, a wide grin gracing her face.
"I'd rather face the dragon without my wand than climb on that stick with you," Salazar spat.
"But it's amazing what you can see!" Amy exclaimed. "It's like being a bird!"
"I'd rather be a bird," Salazar said, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice.
"You know you're not an Animagus," Godric said. Salazar glared at him.
"An Animagus?" Amy asked, looking very intrigued. The girl soaked up knowledge like a sponge, but he didn't feel like a lecture on Transfiguration at the moment.
"I'll explain later," Salazar snapped.
Amy frowned, looking from Salazar to Godric. Stepping forward, she kissed Godric's cheek and thanked him for the ride. Then she bid them good night and headed inside. Salazar wondered if he would find her in his room like she had been the last week or her own as he watched her go.
With her gone, he spun around and faced Godric, his arm reaching out on its own accord and making contact with Godric's nose. He stumbled back, clutching at his nose. Salazar pulled back his hand, his knuckles stinging.
"What the bloody hell was that for?" Godric asked belligerently as he wiped the blood trickling from his nose.
"There are a dozen women inside that can't wait to serve you a butterbeer and listen to you go on at length about your many adventures. Not one of them will give me a second look, and yet you have to go after the one woman that will," he said, starting to shake with anger.
"This is about Amy?"
"Yes, you witless oaf! You knew I liked her, so you decided to take her on a romantic broom ride!" Salazar's voice grew louder and louder.
"She asked me to take her, not the other way around, you imbecile!" Godric shouted back. "And while we were up there, she told me that she has feelings for you!"
"I don't—" Salazar paused. "She said what?"
"She likes you, but she thinks that you find her irritating," Godric said, lowering his voice.
"I do find her irritating. And intriguing. And amusing. And lovely."
"Then tell her that, you twit. And stop punching me in the face."
Salazar looked at him perplexed. She liked him. Amy liked him. It was almost too much to hope for. He nodded, turning to rush inside to find her and tell her he felt the same way. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder back at Godric. The bleeding had slowed; dark red blots still stained his face.
"Sorry about that," Salazar apologized.
"Don't worry about it," Godric said with a shrug. "There are at least a dozen women inside who would love to help me clean up." He winked at Salazar who let out a laugh, and then he hurried inside.
He found her pacing in his room.
"You were being a real prat downstairs," she told him as he came in.
"Broomsticks are a dangerous way to travel. I was just worried about your safety."
She glared at him. "I wish everyone would stop that. I'm perfectly capable of considering it myself, you know."
"I know." He supposed she expected him to argue the point, maybe mention how she was a woman or Muggleborn and therefore unable to think clearly, because his frank admission caught her off guard. She stopped and looked at him, considering his words for a moment.
"What's wrong with your hand?" she asked with a look of concern, changing the subject. She reached for it, but he pulled it away from her grasp, shielding it from her curious gaze with his body.
"Nothing," he said quickly. Amy looked at him suspiciously. She circled around him, plucking his hand from hiding and holding it up. Her eyes softened when she saw the bruises on his knuckles.
"It's not nothing," she exclaimed. "You're hurt!"
"I'll be fine," he said. But she didn't listen.
"Who did you punch and why?" She led him to the washstand and immersed his sore knuckles in the basin, spooning the water over them.
"A man downstairs called me Sally." She looked up at him, her surprised look quickly turning suspicious.
"You're teasing me."
"Yes, I am," he admitted, trying not to flinch as she sponged the blood from his hand. "In truth, it's Godric who deserves your pity more than me."
"Godric?" she asked, pausing her ministrations. "You hit Godric?" Salazar nodded.
"But why?"
"I was…," he choked over the words, "jealous." It wasn't something he liked admitting to himself, let alone her.
"What possible reason would you have to be jealous of Godric?" She began attending his hand again, taking a cloth and drying it off, then wrapping it up. When she finished, however, she didn't relinquish her hold, but stood holding it between hers.
It encouraged him to take a chance, to say, "Other than his charm, good looks, and the beautiful woman on his broomstick tonight, there's nothing to be jealous of."
"Well, that's just silly. So you're not charming exactly, but you are clever, and I rather like the look of…oh!" she exclaimed, looking at the floor with a sudden interest. She blushed red, the color suffusing her cheeks and spreading up to the tips of her ears, and she mumbled something to the floor.
Reaching out, he tipped her chin up with his good hand. "What did you say?"
"You've no reason to be jealous," she said, raising her eyes to meet his.
"Funny, that's what Godric said too. I came up here to be sure." He stepped closer.
"Can I help convince you?" She moved closer.
Salazar cupped her face, drawing her nearer. "I think so," he said, and then he kissed her. And to his great delight and excitement, she kissed him back. He moved his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. She moved her arms up and around his neck, her fingers scratching at the base of his scalp. Goose bumps rose up on his skin, and he clutched her tighter and kissed her soundly.
"I should go back to my room," she said a few long moments later, her voice breathy. Her cheeks flushed red, this time from exertion rather than embarrassment, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.
"Stay," he entreated, resting his forehead against hers.
"My virtue is at risk. What would people think about me staying in the room of a man I'm not married to," she said, trying to move away, but he held her tighter.
"You didn't seem to mind before," he reminded her.
"Whatever they thought would have been scandalous lies before." A look of disdain crossed her face.
"And now?" He didn't let her answer but kissed her again, feeling her smile against his lips.
"I should go." He closed his eyes as she kissed him one last time on the cheek, and then left his embrace, heading for the door.
"We leave tomorrow," he reminded her. She stopped, her hand on the doorknob, and looked back at him.
"You promise you won't leave me behind?"
"I promise." And this time he meant it. Wherever he was, he wanted her there with him. Even if that meant dragging her along to fight the dragon.