Remembering

~700 words :: Harry Potter :: Draco :: 2/22/03
Every September for seven years he had unpacked Salazar just like this, tossing it on the bed and watching as it wrapped itself into a coil. And Crabbe and Goyle had not dared laugh at him, because it was not just any stuffed toy, it was a symbol of Draco’s loyalty to Slytherin.


The bedroom was crowded with boxes and trunks. His mother, having finally decided to clean out his old room, had sent them all. He was annoyed at first. After all, his parents’ house was huge and he’d only got a small flat. There was no reason they couldn’t just put all this in storage, up in the attic or something. But his annoyance soon faded.

Draco hadn’t thought about Salazar in years. It was only when he opened the trunk and saw it there, packed away with all his school things, that he remembered.

It was there even in his earliest memories; the one time he’d asked his mother, she’d told him his father had bought it when Draco was born. It was a huge stuffed snake, a deep, dark green mottled with silver. Slytherin colors. And when he’d been old enough to give it a name, he had chosen the most appropriate one he could think of – that of the founder of Slytherin House.

Looking at it now, he could see how shabby it had become, how dull. Its plush was rubbed away in some places and matted down in others; its once bright red tongue was hanging by a thread and one beady black eye was missing.

The magic was fading, too. Had faded, rather. Now it lay still, no different from a Muggle toy.

He lifted it carefully from the trunk, pushing aside his old texts and papers and robes. A simple act, but one that called up so many memories.

Every September for seven years he had unpacked Salazar just like this, tossing it on the bed and watching as it wrapped itself into a coil. And Crabbe and Goyle had not dared laugh at him, because it was not just any stuffed toy, it was a symbol of Draco’s loyalty to Slytherin.

They would have laughed if they’d known why he really kept Salazar with him. More than that, they would have forsaken him, found another boy to follow. Draco knew this, and so he was careful.

How many times had he returned to their room early from dinner, knowing that those two would spend at least another hour on second and third helpings, not to mention pudding? How many times had he waited for the sound of their snores before reaching to where Salazar lay coiled at the foot of his bed?

He was getting hard just thinking about it, thinking about the soft fur coils tightening around his cock…

Within seconds his clothes lay in a pile on the floor and he sank to his knees after them. He pulled Salazar close, rubbing it against his chest and belly. It wasn’t the same, not when Salazar didn’t respond, not when it just hung limply in his hand, inanimate and worn. No, it wasn’t the same at all, but it was still…good. Very good, in fact. And when he closed his eyes he could remember how it had been and he could pretend that it wasn’t his own hands that pulled the snake tight around him.

His breaths were coming ragged and shallow and he was close, so close. His fingers dug into the worn plush, his hand moving faster and faster. How had he forgotten about this? Nothing compared to this softness sliding against his cock.

And then he was there, his back arching and his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest as he came. His hand fell limply to his side as he sank back down on his haunches.

When his head cleared finally, he got up and staggered across the room to the nightstand and grabbed a handful of tissue. Cleaning off Salazar as best he could, he coiled up the snake and carefully placed it back in the trunk. With a sigh, he began lowering the lid, but then stopped. Time seemed to slow and the seconds stretched into infinity as he stared at Salazar.

He blinked and time sped up, but he had already reached a decision. He picked up the snake and laid it down at the foot of his bed, just as he had every year at Hogwarts.