Summary: Read Warnings before you proceed to understand the context and universe of this fic.

AU. Albus Dumbledore fought tooth and nail to become headmaster of Hogwarts. The sneaky former headmaster, Armando Dippet, has left some very obvious challenges for him. Such as filling the shoes of several necessary teaching positions and Heads of House. Enter, one Severus Snape and a very special Harem. SSxMMxFFxPSxRHxIPxPPxRHxAS


Pairings:

Severus Snape x R. Hagrid x F. Flitwick x M. McGonagall x I. Pince x P. Sprout x R. Hooch x P. Pomfrey x Aurora S.

Disclaimer:

I do not own any Harry Potter anything. That belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just like playing with Harry in my own little world of storyville. I make no money by writing this fanfiction. All original characters are my own.

Rating:

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16.


WARNINGS: VERY AU : Mature themes. Contains mentions and moments of slash(m/m). Scenes are not explicit as per FF guidelines. There will be slight hints of D/s Themes. Teensy bit of Angst. Fluff. Other warnings will be added as I see fit. Set during the Marauder's era. SEVERUS IS TWO YEARS OLDER than his youngest "wife". I am not having some super old cougar with Snape. This is a completely different 'verse than canon and features a lot of tweaking to the canon characters themselves. He did not attend Hogwarts, neither of his harem did and they are all new to Hogwarts and roughly about the same age, give or take five to ten years, given that wizarding folk live longer than the average human.


A/N: This little ficlet is a "What If" Severus Snape was one to have a harem and instead of it being OC's, what if it was the actual Hogwarts Staff? Er, yes, I did take a dare with this one. It's meant to be fun and silly and very light-hearted. Might not have much of a plot, and no graphic lemons/limes, etc, (expect a fade to black), the M rating is for the harem theme and the suggestion of slash/femmeslassh/het, etc. I am restoring my PC at the moment and this was one of those old fics I had buried in there. I couldn't resist pulling it out to post it. Please note, in case you missed the above warnings, that SEVERUS IS TWO YEARS OLDER than his youngest "wife". He did not attend Hogwarts, neither of his harem did and they are all new to Hogwarts and roughly about the same age, give or take five to ten years, given that wizarding folk live longer than the average human. Enjoy!


THE ACADEMIC HAREM OF SEVERUS SNAPE:

CHAPTER ONE - YOU OWE ME


When Albus Dumbledore decided that he did, indeed, wish to take over the proverbial reins of taskmaster and Head of Hogwarts, it was only after he was knee-deep in administrative paperwork and his fifth vial of headache relieve, that he realized something about a certain Headmaster Dippet. He had severely underestimated the old coot's conniving ways. In short order, having made his declaration clear, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore found himself headmaster of the illustrious Hogwarts School for impressionable young minds and consequently little else.

By little else, Albus fumed, it meant that the old bastard had won in the end.

Armando Dippet had been clever—very much so—and he'd managed to outplay the impossible Albus Dumbledore.

Yes, Albus had won the school—a school that was now severely lacking in competent witches and wizards to fill the positions of suitable teachers. Oh yes, there were a few, say, Sybil Trelawny and a certain Professor Quirrell who had applied and received their positions for their respective positions. Though Albus had been careful not to let on anything about the fact that they had been the only applicants to send in suitable references.

Well, any references really.

It was partially why he wrote to his old friend—a certain mysterious old crone he'd known for some time, she was a noteworthy companion via parchment, for the past several years, a friendship forged in his younger years. On plain parchment, he bemoaned his dilemma of despairing to fill all necessary positions before the school year began. Merlin help him, should he be forced to turn to the retired Armando Dippet for suggestions for Hogwarts continued survival.

To his surprise, his sharp-witted correspondent sent back a quick reply, suggesting he send an official missive to the mysterious House of Prince, addressing the esteemed heir, one Severus Tobias Snape. His parchment friend explained the misfortune—or rather, the fortune—depending on your point of view, about the personal life of a certain Severus Tobias Snape and his rather…unusual living arrangements.

The esteemed heir was the youngest wizard to achieve and hold a Potions Mastery, was recognized as a certified mediwizard, held a certificate in Legilimency and Occulumency, a title of master duelist in the junior category and the unfortunate inheritance of the rare gift of magical empathy—as per the famed Prince bloodline.

The reclusive Severus T. Snape was rarely seen in public, rarely referred to in society and very, very, extremely rarely—if at all—visible in any sort of transactions in the Wizarding world. In short, an untouchable hermit.

Definitely not the sort of interesting fellow that Albus cared to amuse him about.

The letter carried on to share the dazzling qualities of this one Severus Snape, as well as the shiny compliments to be gained by forging an alliance in any way possible.

On the surface, Albus brooded, it seemed as if his correspondent had parchment for brains and little else, until the letter continued.

A very specific and odd quirk.

Albus blinked.

He squinted at the parchment, reread it, then took off his spectacles and inspected them for damage.

Finding none, he replaced them on the edge of his nose and peered at the parchment once more. Perhaps, he really ought to listen more to the dear lady who often took such time to write to him and with such clever wit. Fawkes squawked inquiringly at his actions and hopped over from his perch to come and see what had his wizard so befuddled.

Albus sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. He reached up a hand to gently stroke Fawkes' lovely feathers and ignored the familiar's attempt to preen his silvery hair.

Severus Snape, as a once-in-a-lifetime rare wizard, required a rather startling—thing—to hold and maintain his rare gift of empathy.

No, not quite a thing, but rather a specific circumstance.

A very singular circumstance.

Severus Snape required a harem.

In fact, according to his darling correspondent, Albus was informed that this Severus Snape did indeed create, form, maintain and operate on a completely legal and ethical ground—his very own coven willingly bonded in marital bliss—for the sake of his sanity and that of the wizarding world, dubbed for all intents and purposes, as a harem.

His rare gift of magical empathy made him a powerhouse of raw magic and volatile spellwork, tamed by the grounding presences of various powerful witches and wizards in their own rights.

This Severus Snape would be a real gamechanger.

It was a very special harem indeed. A magical coven housing experts in Transfiguration, Herbology, Healing Arts, Magical Creatures and Charms, as well as perhaps a few more tucked in there for good measure. Severus Snape was a rather private man and the little information on him was hard-earned. The names of the esteemed individuals bonded to him were withheld for personal reasons, the letter claimed, but it did promise that each individual was a master at what they did. His friend then suggested requesting Severus Snape and his entire harem to come and play teacher until he could legitimately fill the positions himself with instructors of his choosing.

Albus gaped at the parchment for longer than was strictly polite. Fawkes trilled softly to catch his attention, an inquisitive look on the face of the scarlet-plumed Phoenix. Apparently the preening had not brought about the expected result and now his feathered friend was somewhat worried. Albus sighed, his parchment correspondent suggested writing to this Severus Snape and asking whether he would be willing to invest a bit of time and a sizeable donation of galleons to the future lives of promising young witches and wizards, in addition to possibly loaning out members of his, ah, coven, in the capacity of teachers.

"What do you think, Fawkes?" The snowy-haired wizard asked. He could not promise the galleons part, for there were certain things that the Board of Governors would and would not allow, and he was fairly certain that excessive teacher salaries was listed in there somewhere. Of course, if Severus himself, in turn, did refuse to contribute to the school, then Albus was not about to complain, so as long as the harem was allowed to come and teach.

The gaily plumed bird regarded him with serious, dark eyes, before bursting into a delightfully trilling song.

"I agree." Albus exclaimed, cheerfully. He fished out a round lemon drop from the folds of his mismatched wizarding robes. He hadn't had time to coordinate them today, he'd been so busy with everything else. He popped the sweet in his mouth and suddenly, it didn't seem like such a bad thing.

It certainly couldn't hurt to write and see.

After all, the worst this Severus Snape fellow could do was refuse, right?


It took two long days for a reply to return to Albus' lovely, long scripted missive with expressive sapphire blue ink.

It featured a starkly black spidery scrawl bearing two letters and one period.

No.

There was nothing else writ upon the reply.

"Oh dear." Albus murmured.

Fawkes tilted his head sideways and chirped.


The written war lasted right down to the last two weeks of school where Albus became too desperate to do more than send out inquiries left and right as well as frantically scribbling replies to the mysterious Severus Snape.

While his first attempts at written communication had been largely ignored, Albus had persisted and eventually succeeded at prying more than a single word from the mysterious wizard. Severus Snape was a man of habit. He'd written the singular "No." in answer, no less than twenty times—though with varying distinctions between them. Some looked as if he might have broken the tip of his quill in his haste to reply, while others were neatly scripted, though still bearing the same distinctive spidery scrawl. Albus had swiftly run out of sapphire ink within the first month and soon returned to the standard, expected, black ink as he sent back his replies.

He had to admit that this Severus Snape had quite a few good points and a very sharp mind. He was also, Albus noted, a very blunt and extremely private man. How such a brilliant mind had managed to avoid the last wizarding war, Albus didn't know, but he surely wasn't about to ask. He considered it a victory of victories, when he'd managed to pry an entire sentence from the reclusive Snape.

When it finally came down to the draw, Albus had resorted to looking up former students with outstanding OWL's and sending out as many persuasive letters as he possibly could.

"I need a deputy." Albus told Fawkes. He mopped his brow with a damp kerchief, thinking of a Deputy Headmaster or Headmistress. It would certainly be very welcome and quite useful in more ways than one. There was simply too much work for a single, talented wizard to handle and there were very few willing to cross Dippet by returning after he'd been the one to boot them out. Albus had his work cut out for him. "A very good one." He finished, gloomily.


The next morning, a most curious notice appeared was brought to him by a nervous house-elf wringing its hands and ears in alternate motions as wide-dark eyes peered up at the white-bearded Headmaster.

It was a scrap of parchment bearing a single line.

You shall owe me. 1:30 PM. SS.

And then the time, registered.

Albus blinked. One-thirty was two-minutes past.

Severus Snape gave the air of a very punctual man.

The headmaster swallowed hard. He looked from the scrap of parchment to the increasingly nervous house elf before him. "It just came?" He inquired, far more calmly than he felt.

"Yes, Headmaster sir." Inky bobbed his head. "What shalls I be telling them?" Inky nibbled on his lower lip. "Theys be requesting an immediate reply!"

"Ah, then would you be so kind as to take me directly to my office?" Albus smiled charmingly at the house-elf, Inky, he thought the name was, for this particular elf seemed particularly handy at cleaning up ink-related messes.

"As Headmaster sir wishes." Inky bobbed its head and snapped its fingers.

The mismatched duo appeared in the Headmaster's quarters in time for the floo to chime urgently once more.

"Fawkes?" Albus held out a hand as he hurried over to the fireplace and hurriedly lowered the wards and restrictions to allow the incoming travelers through. The Phoenix flew to perch on his shoulder as the Headmaster stepped to the side.

He was completely unprepared for the sudden bustle of people.

A tall man cloaked in black swept out from the floo. There was a distinctly sour look plastered on his pale face, framed by thick, straight locks of inky black hair. The face became clearer when long, elegant—faintly stained fingers—tucked the strands behind the ears, to show a prominent nose and a pair of very dark, very black, very unnerving eyes.

"Albus Dumbledore." The name fell from the man's lips with something akin to distaste.


Well, what do you think? I've a few more chapters to clean and post, if I can manage the time. This will largely focus on relationships as opposed to an actual plot. I want to show different sides of Severus and also of Albus as I am currently bashing him in my There Be Dragons, Harry fic. Thanks for reading!