Jukebox plays: Remembering Jenny, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Chapter 3
The trees and moors flashed by outside the Hogwarts Express windows, first year students pressed up against the windows as though to memorize every mile of the journey. The corridors filled with the laughter and groans that accompany the first day of school, children chattering in animated language to friends that they hadn't seen for the whole of summer.
The day had lived up to its promise, the trees dotted with the occasional red or yellow leaf, heralding in the first of autumn with a splash of color. Soon enough all the trees would wear their fall colors, covered with gowns of russet and gold, the temperature dropping from the humid heat of summer. The shallow stirring of contemplation, as Tom stared out the window lethargically.
There were two other people in his compartment, talking quietly about some play they had seen over the holidays. Their backs were turned towards him, as though protecting their conversation from his apathetic glances. Or perhaps it was an effort to keep from annoying him too much- Either way, it mattered less then nothing to him. Less then the Head Boy position he had been bestowed, less then the sluggish shift of the little garden snake in his robe pocket.
Tucked close into his body heat, Libya flickered her tongue out briefly. Tasting soap and ink in the air, and wishing this part of the journey was over. The pocket, though not uncomfortable, was a far cry from the patch of sunlight she had been lounging in before. At a little more then eight inches long, she could coil up rather small, though this long trip was starting to try her patience. The vibrations from the wheels shuddered through her sinuous body, shifting the walls of her soft, dark, temporary habitat.
But still, this journey gave her ample time to ponder over her change in fate. At which point in her life she had shifted from a mere spectator, to the precious and protected familiar of the wizard that she sat with. This, the second year that she had made this trek with him; though, he had promised this year would be more comfortable then the last. That she would have space to move, instead of spending the majority of her time hidden away from the other cruel students of Slytherin house.
Libya did not reckon emotion in the same way humans did, her mind was not wired to love. But it was her gift to be able to learn, and in her own way, she began to grasp the concept of affection. This wizard had named her, albeit it was a Latin word for 'snake', but it was a name nonetheless. He protected her from the children that would pull on her tail, or tie her in knots.
And in that way, she viewed him as much hers and she was his. Her musings her interrupted by her whole little world shifting, the scent of soap and sweat growing stronger as she flickered her tongue out for a second time. The smell was underscored by grass, and ink, and something that was just uniquely him. She didn't try to analyze it passed that, coiling herself loosely around his fingers.
Rubbing her scales slowly, Tom felt the agitated serpent fall still. He couldn't count the number of times over the years that his little familiar had told him that he exploited her weakness evilly- and it had certainly never stopped him. Had they the train car to themselves, he would have commented on the oddly cat-like tendency she had to go limp under his touch. Once, he had phrased it as 'boneless', but Libya had been only too quick to jibe back that snakes weren't very big on bones to begin with.
Calmed by the repetitive action of his fingers moving slowly over her smooth body, Tom stared once more out the window. Enjoying for its simplicity, the last moments of pseudo-peace he would probably have for the rest of the evening.