Title: A Slytherin's Revenge
Summary: Slytherin's have their own special form of revenge. Severus Snape has been waiting for this day since he first came to Hogwarts as a student.
Warning: Mild CP
There was a tradition in Slytherin House that had been practiced since the early days of Hogwarts School, but few outside the House knew of this tradition. After the Sorting, each Slytherin First Year was assigned a Fifth Year. During the next three years they were to room with their assigned student and serve them. Fourth year would be spent in a common dorm with other Fourth Years and during their fifth year it would be their turn to have a younger student assigned to them.
The theory behind this practice was the OWL year and the two years at the NEWT level were so stressful on students that they needed someone to help take care of small chores so that they could spend extra time studying. It also taught young students, many who were wealthy purebloods who had never lifted a finger, responsibility and a few simple household chores. Most older students did not take too much advantage of the younger students who had been chosen to serve them, however there were always exceptions.
When a young Severus Snape had been Sorted into Slytherin House, he had taken a seat next to Fifth Year prefect Lucius Malfoy. Lucius had clapped him on the shoulder in congratulations and greeting as he sat down. But this was also a signal to Professor Slughorn, Slytherin Head of House, that Lucius was claiming the little half-blood student.
Lucius Malfoy had been almost as cruel and exacting as the younger boy's drunken Muggle father, keeping young Severus so busy that there were times he barely managed to get his homework done, often times losing what precious little sleep Lucius afforded him in order to get his work done. After less than a week at Hogwarts, Severus vowed to get revenge.
And now was the day for that revenge. Lucius Malfoy's only child, the son he had been training to take his place from birth, was standing in front of the staff table with the other First Years waiting to be sorted.
Unlike Slughorn, Severus never allowed his Fifth Years to claim First years. No, he assigned his First Years to the student he felt would be the best match for them. He had gotten quite good at reading people thanks to his years as a spy.
There were two ways he could go about this. He could assign the Malfoy heir to Marcus Flint, who he knew would be just as cruel as Lucius had been to him and was probably the most disgusting student had had seen in all his years of teaching. Or he could assign the boy to Christopher "Kit" Pelham.
He knew as a teacher that he shouldn't have favorite students, but Kit was special. Severus had found him as a baby, abandoned in an alley, a note pinned to the filthy sheet he had been wrapped in. He had taken the infant to his house and had nearly lost him three times during that long night. But the boy was a fighter and had pulled through. He had wanted to take the boy in, but as the Dark Lord was still rising to power and Severus was spying for Dumbledore, he knew that he couldn't take in a muggle child. It wouldn't be safe for the baby. So he begged an older muggle couple he had known growing up to take him as a foster child. He told them that he was the boy's godfather, but couldn't take care of him physically. However, he could help support him financially and he wanted to be a part of the boy's life. He had been thrilled beyond words when the boy started showing signs of accidental magic. Kit's foster mother had died shortly after Kit came to Hogwarts and his foster father wouldn't survive the year, but they hadn't told Kit yet. His foster father didn't want him to know yet. Once the older man died, Severus would tell Dumbledore exactly what he could do with his meddling and he would take the boy in like he had wanted to all those years ago.
Yes, Kit would be perfect for young Draco, who was also Severus' godson, though there was no affection whatsoever between Severus and his youngest godson. Severus thought Draco was a spoiled brat and someone needed to put him in his place, but Lucius would never allow him to lay a hand on his son. He still hated Lucius for the way the older Slytherin had treated him all those years before and had been rather surprised to be named the brat's godfather. Lucius had explained that Severus was the closest thing he had to a brother and that is why he was given the honor. Severus had had a hard time not telling the Slytherin exactly what he thought of him.
When Draco was Sorted into Slytherin, Severus nodded at the boy and gestured for him to go to the Slytherin table. He then caught Kit's eye and the Fifth Year prefect smirked and nodded in return. Severus turned his attention back to the rest of the students waiting to be Sorted, seeing Kit greet Draco out of the corner of his eye.
--
After giving his usual Slytherin House Rules speech, Severus sent all but his first and fifth years to bed. He quickly explained to the first years the system in place in Slytherin House and then began to pair up his snakes, leaving Draco and Kit for last. Once all the other pairs had left the common room, he led his two godsons into his personal quarters.
Draco's eyes grew wide as the older Slytherin followed them. "Godfather? Why is he in here?"
Severus sighed. "Mr. Malfoy, I explained to you before that here at school you must refer to me as 'Professor' or 'Sir'. In answer to your question, Mr. Pelham is also my godson."
"What?!"
"Control yourself, Mr. Malfoy. I brought you in here to tell you that you are to obey Mr. Pelham as you obey me. He has the authority to assign punishments to you if you do not...and do not think that I will override them just because I am your godfather. Remember, there will be no trying out for the House team next year without Mr. Pelham's approval."
"But..."
"Dismissed!"
When Draco started to protest, Kit grabbed him by the collar, rolled his eyes at his godfather over the boy's head and drug him from the room. He led the boy to their room. "Welcome to your home for the next three years," Kit told him.
The room was sparsely furnished with two beds (one larger than the other), two desks with straight-backed chairs, two wardrobes and two armchairs in front of the fireplace.
Draco started toward the larger and more comfortable looking bed, but Kit grabbed him by the collar again. "Not so fast, short stuff. That's my bed. The smaller one is yours."
"Why do you get the bigger bed?" Draco asked, trying to get free of the older boy's strong grip. "And I'm not short!"
"I get the bigger bed because I'm older. And there is nothing you can do about it, short stuff. Just remember what our godfather said," he told the boy, giving him a shove toward the smaller bed.
Draco turned, pulling out his wand out and pointing it at the older boy. He knew a few hexes that his father had taught him and he was willing to use them.
"Don't even think about it, Malfoy," Kit said, as if reading Draco's thoughts. "Use one of those hexes and you'll regret it."
"What hexes?" Draco asked innocently.
Kit crossed his arms and looked down at the younger boy, looking like a blond version of his godfather. "I've got a couple of rules. You follow them and we'll get along splendidly. First, don't get an attitude with me. You do and you'll be scrubbing the loo with your toothbrush. Second, you do what I tell you, when I tell you. Third, do not lie to me."
"You can't do this is me!" Draco protested, his wand still pointed at Kit. "I'll tell me Father."
Kit just laughed. "Go ahead. But he was once where you were too. And our godfather was assigned to him as a first year. So he understands the system. Slytherins are big on tradition. There is nothing he can do about it except pull you out of Hogwarts."
Growling, Draco turned and stalked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Kit asked him.
"To talk to MY godfather!"
With a lazy flick of his wand, Kit locked the door. "The only place you are going is to bed. You have class in the morning."
"You can't tell me what to do!"
Kit just crossed his arms and glared at the boy.
"Let me out you bastard!"
Kit's wand disappeared in his sleeve and he once again grabbed the boy by the collar, dragging him into the bathroom they shared. He seemed oblivious to the younger boy's struggling. Once in the bathroom, he lifted the boy up to sit on the counter, grabbing a vial off of the nearby shelf. "Our godfather gave me this a couple years ago," he said, opening the vial. He grabbed Draco's jaw and held the vial to the younger boy's lips. "Open."
Draco shook his head.
"We're going to sit here until you do. Open!"
Draco shook his head again.
"Damn it, kid…Look, the professor has used this stuff on many a student and it hasn't killed anyone yet. He only had to use it on me once and I never swore again. At least not in his presence," he said with a chuckle. "Now this is going in your mouth and it's going to stay there for a whole minute. You aren't going anywhere until you do."
"Can't make me," Draco whispered, opening his mouth as little as possible.
"Ever hear of a Sticking Charm? You try to get up before your punishment is over and I will stick your skinny arse to the counter."
"Ain't skinny."
"You are short and skinny, but you'll grow. If I don't strangle you first. Now, are we going to do this or do I have to use the Sticking Charm?"
Draco crossed his arms and glared at the older boy.
"Have it your way," Kit said, slipping his wand into his hand and using the promised charm on the boy, before heading back into their bedroom. He took off his robes and hung them in the wardrobe. Taking the book that his godfather had given him, he sat in front of the fire, waiting for the little brat to call him.
Draco glared through the door at the older student, who was ignoring him. No one ignored him! And no one punished him either! As soon as he could he was going to send an owl to Father.
He wiggled a bit and found that he couldn't move much. Sighing, he leaned back against the mirror, glancing through the door again. Just who was this guy anyway and who did he think he was to treat the Heir of Malfoy like that? "How long are you going to make me sit here?" he asked.
"You know the answer to that," Kit answered from the other room.
"But why?"
Kit got up and walked back to the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. "You're an arrogant, spoiled brat, kid, and you won't last long like that. Someone needs to teach you the proper respect."
"I'm a Malfoy. We don't have to respect anyone."
"That sort of attitude is only going to get you in trouble. I'm not going to tolerate it and neither will our godfather. He is the Head of our House and he insists on respect from all of us, his snakes. But most particularly the first years.
"He also requires his snakes to follow all school rules. No exceptions. That's part of my job. To make sure that you follow the rules. And if you get in trouble, so do I. You get a detention with another professor and we both get one with Snape. I'm telling you now, that if that happens I will not be happy and you will regret it."
"You…" Draco said his eyes wide. "You can't be serious…"
Kit raised an eyebrow. "I'm quite serious. We're you paying attention to the professor's little speech?"
"Not really…" the younger boy admitted.
"Alright. I'm going to go over it with you one more time, so listen closely. This system has been in place in Slytherin House for several hundred years. It gives younger students a mentor…some one who can help them adjust to being away from home. Assigning them to an older student also makes things easier on the Head of House. The older student is responsible for the younger student's behavior as well as making sure that they are doing well in their studies. Since the start of the OWLs and NEWTs, the younger student has also assisted with simple chores in order to give the older students more time to study. It's almost like an unofficial apprenticeship.
"The Slytherins are the only ones who use this system because our House tends to attract the most purebloods and most purebloods are traditionalists. And because of this system Slytherin students are also the most well adjusted students.
"While I've got your attention, I'm going to let you know this now. Our Head of House will appear to let you get away with anything in public. However, he will let you have it later in private. He does this because all the other professors, with the exception of Sinistra, won't let us get away with anything. In fact, they look for reason to take away points or assign detentions."
"You can't really…make me drink that stuff, can you?" Draco asked him, glancing at the bottle sitting just out of reach.
"That's not something you drink, kid. Its mouthwash…and it's quite disgusting, trust me."
"Mouthwash?"
"Yes. You keep it in your mouth until I give you permission to spit it out."
"Why?"
"To teach you not to swear at me, for one thing."
Draco crossed his arms again. "I'm still not going to let you do it."
"Suit yourself," Kit said, turning to go back into the bedroom. "But I'm going to bed soon and if we don't do this now, you can just sit there until morning."
"No…" Draco said softly as Kit disappeared.
"What was that?" Kit called back.
"Just get back in here and get this over with so that I can go to bed. Mother says I'm cranky if I don't get my sleep."
Kit came back and gave him another look. "If you don't get your sleep? You've been 'cranky' since you got here."
"I'm tired," Draco whined. "It's been a long day…"
"Don't whine," Kit told him, stepping back in front of him. He picked up the vial with a flick of the wrist that released the Sticking Charm.
Draco whimpered as the bottle was lifted to his lips again. But as he realized what was about to happen, he started to fight, trying to push Kit's hand away.
Kit easily caught the boy's jaw again and forced his mouth open, pouring in a little of the mouthwash. "Don't swallow," he told the younger boy, keeping a firm grip on his jaw.
The younger Slytherin continued to struggle, this time because of the awful taste of the mouthwash. In his struggles to get out of the older Slytherin's grip in order to spit out the foul-tasting liquid, he accidentally swallowed most of it.
Kit noticed the sudden wide-eyed look on the younger boy's face. "You swallowed it, didn't you?" Draco nodded, starting to look like he was going to be sick. Swearing colorfully, Kit pulled him off the counter and shoved his head over the toilet just in time for the younger boy to vomit into the basin.
Draco whimpered as he continued to lose what little he had eaten at dinner and all the sweets he had gorged himself on during the train ride.
With a deep sigh, Kit leaned back against the cabinet that Draco had just been sitting on. He raked his fingers through his hair before covering his face with his hands. What had he done? When Draco let out a soft sob, Kit flicked a wrist and a gleaming, silver owl appeared. The owl hovered for a moment before landing on his shoulder. Kit reached up and stroked the owl's silvery breast, whispering softly to the bird. With a quick bob of the head, the owl took flight and left the room. Remembering the times when he had been sick as a child, Kit moved closer to the boy, one arm slipping under him to support him as he brought his other hand up to brush the hair off his brow, whispering comforting words to him.
When Draco finished emptying the contents of his stomach, he weakly leaned against the older Slytherin, not even caring that moments before he had hated the boy. Right now he just wanted the contact.
Kit helped the boy shed his school robes and then stood, easily lifting the smaller boy into his arms and carrying him to his bed. Slipping his wand into his hand, he transfigured the boy's clothes into pajamas, before tucking him in.
Severus walked into the room as Draco curled up on his side. "What happened?"
"He called me a bastard," Kit told him, moving away from the younger boy. "And I used the mouthwash…he swallowed some of it and threw up."
He squeezed the older boy's shoulder as he sat beside Draco. "Here Draco," he said, holding out a vial of Stomach Soother. The younger boy whimpered, but lifted his head and drank the potion. He curled up on his side and fell asleep after a few minutes.
Kit sat in the chair by the fire and put his head in his hands.
Severus walked over and placed a hand on the boy's neck. "What's wrong, son?"
"I screwed up," Kit replied, not looking up but relaxing a bit under the comforting touch.
The man sat on the arm of the chair. "I once thought I had screwed up with you. Do you remember?"
Kit nodded, remembering back to a time when he had been seven and had gotten into quite a bit of trouble with his godfather.
Seven-year-old Kit Pelham stood in the corner of the kitchen while his foster mother, Ruth Sharpe, talked into the magic mirror that his godfather had given them, should they need to contact him in case of an emergency. And getting suspended from school for fighting was an emergency. Especially when the fight had started because Kit had told some of the boys in his class about the accidental magic he had displayed the week before. He'd used wish magic and made his toy soldiers, Royal Marines like his foster father Paul, come to life long enough to have a small mock battle on the floor of his bedroom.
It had been a battle worthy of Pop's stories and he had thought his friends would be just as excited as he was. Only he had forgotten that he wasn't supposed to talk about magic to anyone. What had started as an argument had become a fight, but only Kit had been suspended. Glancing over his shoulder, he tried to eavesdrop on the conversation.
"What do you want me to do, Sev?" Nan was asking his godfather.
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," the man answered. He taught potions at Hogwarts and Kit knew he was in trouble if his godfather was leaving during school to come. "Tell him to make a list of everyone who who told or who heard the argument. I have a lot of memory charms to go cast and I don't want to miss any."
Kit wiggled where he stood in the corner. That tone of voice wasn't good! He'd heard his godfather use it on one of his students before. And that boy, a really big boy, had broken down in tears. He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You heard him, Christopher," Nan told him. Oh! His real name! Big, big trouble! "Let's sit down and make that list."
He followed her over to the table where she sat down and started writing all the names he told her. As the list grew longer and longer, he began to get even more worried.
Severus Snape stalked through the front door exactly when he said he would and Kit looked up at him nervously, one finger in his mouth. "Daddy..." Severus was his godfather, but he had stubbornly refused to call his godfather anything else from the time he first started talking.
"Come Christopher," the Potions Master said, heading up the stairs to Kit's room.
Kit trotted after him, sniffling.
Once in Kit's room, Severus turned to the boy. "Are you hurt?" He asked, though his voice wasn't filled with the kindness it usually held.
"My cheek hurts...and my mouth."
Severus sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the boy in front of him, inspecting his wounds. "Looks like you've gotten yourself a shiner and a split lip. They are going to hurt a bit."
"Can I have a potion to make them all better?"
"I'll think about it," he said, standing. He took the chair from the desk and turned it to face the only empty corner. "Sit." Kit climbed into the chair. "I have to go deal with this and then I'll be back to deal with you." He walked out of the room without another word.
Tears running silently down his cheeks, Kit stared at the walls in front of him. He had really messed up and Nan and Pop and Daddy weren't going to want him anymore. Especially not after he had told those kids at school about his magic. He knew he wasn't supposed to do that, but he had just wanted to...he had just wanted to impress them.
What seemed like days later, Kit finally heard his godfather's footsteps in the hall.
Severus walked into the room and pulled his godson from the chair he had been sitting in. He walked over to the bed, sat down, turned the boy over his knee and gave him ten firm swats on the backside. Kit cried loudly and wiggled from the first, reaching back to rub his abused bum when Severus put him back on his feet. "Do you realize what you've done?!" He demanded of the boy.
"I told..." Kit cried, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"That's right. You told. And you could have gotten me into serious trouble, Christopher!" He said, using that tone that made even the biggest kids he taught cry. Kit put his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he cried. "If the wrong people had found out I could have died. You, Nan and Pop too. Do you want that?"
"No!" Kit wailed.
"Well, it could happen if you aren't careful. Not only because we have to keep our world secret but because there are wizards out there who would kill me if they thought I wasn't on their side anymore. They wouldn't think twice about killing you, Nan and Pop too."
"I'm sorry, Daddy..." He cried. "I'm so sorry! Please don't send me away! I'll be good! I promise! Just don't send me away!"
Severus found that he could no longer be angry at the miserable little boy in front of him. "Send you..." He pulled Kit into his arms. "You silly boy..."
The Potions Master gently began to massage his oldest godson's neck. "I overreacted that day because I was angry. I should have done nothing that would have caused you to think that I would send you away. Just remember that it's never a good idea to punish a child, any child, in anger. When you do it is very easy to do more harm than good.
"Spoiled brats like Draco are going to test your patience and if you ever feel yourself start to lose your temper, Stick him to a chair and walk away and cool down." He ruffled the boy's hair. "You did a good job for your first day. And if you ever need any advice, feel free to come talk to me. I will also speak to Draco again about listening to you."
Kit smiled up at him. "Thanks Dad."
AN: This started as an idea that wouldn't leave me alone. I've been working on it for the last several days. Thanks to Snapegirlkmf for the encouragement to finish this chapter. I wouldn't have finished it without you. Inspiration for this fic was drawn from several sources of classic literature.