I was a happy man. I really was. I know you may not believe me. 'Severus
Snape. . .Happy?". Many a person have laughed at the idea. But in my own
broody, dark and menacing way I was a happy man. That was until THAT day.
Sitting, quite happily, eating my breakfast and scowling at the hundreds of disgusting students before me, I was contemplating the days classes. Suddenly Trelawney was sitting ON my breakfast. As you can imagine I nearly choked. This is a woman who cowers in fear at my mere sight. A women who sends shudders of disgust through my veins ( like so many others really) every time I see her sway past doing her damndest to impersonate a drug overdose patient. And suddenly my dry toast (no butter) is covered in skinny fortune teller. Batting what seem like enormous eye lashes at me through half an inch thick glass.
What happened next was really my own fault. I should have moved immediately, but so shocked I found myself frozen. I shudder just recalling - she lifted both legs and placed them on either side of my chair, pulling me further towards the table and her oddly dressed body. I'm sure my face showed astonishment. Perhaps even fear as I noticed the swaying layers of material that had always reminded me of the homeless were replaced with a rather tight fitting and short cut dress. I leaned back in my chair to escape. The world had clearly gone mad.
"Sevvie...darling!" I can only describe her voice as an attempt at a purr, and her arms coming to rest on my shoulders at what I'm sure she thought an enticing gesture. My eye's grew wide as I tried desperately to sink into my chair. The entire hall was silent. Why wasn't anyone rescuing me?
Her chest shifted, no doubt trying to draw my attention, but I would not look down. This woman was 50 years old! I myself was only 36 at the time. Like any man in their thirties, I feared the sagging and wrinkled mounds all and any breast I would see in a decade form now would look like. There was no need to advance that horror.
Finding my voice, although I would sware the tiny squeak it came out of was not MY voice, I timidly asked "What's wrong?" She pulled her arms back to place behind herself and lean against the table. Her thin and wrinkled mouth giggling under those enormous spectacles. "Why would anything be wrong, Sevvie?"
I swallowed the bile making a mad dash to exit my mouth and tried to push my chair back. Albus could go fuck himself! If this was the sort of behaviour I would have to put up with I'd much rather eat in my rooms, ALONE! But my chair didn't move. For an old wench, her leg muscles where rather strong. I'd have to touch them to move them. That wasn't about to happen anytime soon.
Albus suddenly spoke up and I found myself retracting my previous damnation of the man. If he could get her to let go I mentally promised to buy him a tone of Sherbet Lemons. "Professor? Are you alright, dear? Perhaps you should let Severus go?"
Where was the demanding and feared Albus Dumbledore when you needed him? Calling her pet names as I slowly die from fear and disgust was hardly helping. I wanted to scream 'kill the possessed bitch and be done with it!'. But to tell you the truth, I feared her reaction. What if she, in an attempt to up this supposed seduction. . .hugged me? I shuddered again at the though.
Her screechy voice brought me back. "No, Headmaster. I'm fine. Just discussing my future with Sevvie." To emphasize my name she wiggled her legs and I closed my eyes tight to block out the double jiggle of her old woman thighs. Scrunched up into myself like a man awaiting Arvada Kadavra. Situations like these never end well.
"And why," The headmaster continued, "would you need to talk to Severus about your future while sitting on his breakfast dressed. . .ah. . . so. . . festively?" The old man was as diplomatic as ever. Dressed like a two nut whore! Everyone in this god forsaken hall was thinking it, why couldn't the old man just say it?! Did he really expect me to be able to talk in such a state!?!
"Because, Headmaster, I'm going to marry him!" My eye's flew open at this and I shot out of my chair. She was too close and my head collided with hers with a resounding thunk, sending her sprawling backwards over the table and revealing ( to my great horror and little Flitwicks apparent delight) that she had assumed underwear and unnecessary addition to the outfit.
One hand clamped over my forehead as I backed away form the woman to discreetly hide behind the headmaster. I yelled out for the whole hall to hear "We are not! What in the blazes gave you that idea?!" I couldn't have the students of staff thinking there was any credence to this story after all.
To my great distaste Albus turned on me disapprovingly and tutted like a mother hen. "tut, tut, Severus. I thought you'd stopped all that in School? If you bed a woman under false pretences your bound to have these problems."
I couldn't believe my ears, even as they turned red. Sniffled giggles and 'eww's ran through the student body. Indignantly I rushed to repair the damage, "That was ONE girl nearly twenty years ago! Can't you ever let things rest? Besides, she married quite happily to another man if you recall. AND, I've never touched THAT horrible old bag!" Much like a five year old my finger was pointed out to the woman still sitting on my breakfast. Flitwick stood in front of her winking suggestively. To my great relief she spoke up in my defence, "Of course you haven't touched me yet! We're not even married!"
The hall quieted down and hundreds of brows creased in confusion. Albus the owner of one such set. I noticed I still had one hand covering my no longer hurting forehead while the other was still pointed at the offending women so I lowered both quickly and decided to ask the question on every ones lips, "But why do you think we're getting married?"
That was when she uttered those four dreaded words. Four words to ruin my life. . .
"Your mother said so!"
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Throwing the magical ash into my fireplace and summoning the wench from which I came, I nervously awaited her arrival. Questions coursing through my mind.
Why was Trelawney talking to my mother?
Why did my mother say I'd marry the old bag?
DID my mother say I'd marry the old bag?. . .which inevitably turned to,
DID my mother talk to her at all?
But, most importantly, what in the seven hells was going on?
When the regal form of Mistress Snape stepped through the grate I bombarded her with the first thing to pop into my mind. . . unfortunately.
"What in the fuck is wrong with you, woman!"
She turned to me, startled. I don't think I'd ever sworn in front of her before, let alone at her in such a manner. Distress showed on her face as she made herself comfortable in my chair. "I was afraid you might react this way." She sounded weary. A voice I would normally dote towards with questions of her health and other sonly concerns. Instead my face grew red with anger. She did do it!
"Well!?!"
She sighed and patted the chair beside her and I found myself sitting like a well trained dog before I thought of it. How good I had become at taking orders. Too many chiefs and not enough kitchen. Between Mother, Albus and the Dark Lord no one would ever be able to cook in me again.
"Your 36 years old, Severus. A man your age should have a wife and children. A man your age, with no brothers, or sisters, or cousins, or ANY relatives carrying his name should have a wife and a dozen children. I'm an old woman, my dear boy. I want to be assured my family will continue before I die."
Some of my anger ebbed away. "Are you ill?" Worry was brought to the fore. Mummy? "No, Sev. I'm not ill. I'm just old." My worry vanished in an instant. How very manipulative.
"Your 56 years old! Albus is 149. I'm sure you'll be fine!" My voice had once again risen and I stood up. The movement was more to prove I didn't have to sit just because she'd told me to, but once I was up I really wanted to sit down again. So I sat somewhere else. All the while feeling like an eleven year old screaming 'I don't wanna go to bed! I'm not tired!' who then promptly falls to sleep the moment their head hits the pillow. How does she always make me feel small?
She sighed in her melodramatic way and continued in her old-lady-voice. "You have to get married. It's in the contract. You only have a year left. If you don't like my friends then you'll have to find one yourself."
One question resounded in my head. . .hha? My face must have shown my confusion because she explained without being prompted, "Remember when you were 17, and I gave you all those papers to sign for college?" I nodded, "Well. . .one of them wasn't for college. I slipped it in thinking you wouldn't read it." My mouth fell open in astonishment. My own mother did that to me?!? But. . .how could she!?!
"The contract said, and I quote;
"I, Severus Snape, only heir to the Snape name and fortune, only son of Saveo and Selinia Snape and all their forebears, agree to have my reproductive organs removed and magically placed onto a willing party should I fail to produce an heir by then end of two decades from now, be it with a man or woman, so that the great name of Snape may live on for all of eternity. . . etc' ,
". . .you get the point. Now, It did specify a potion (should you be running late) that you take and will make your wife, or husband should you choose, pregnant upon the first copulation after ingestion. However, your heir must carry the Snape name and it must be legitimate." She yawned, as if this was all terribly boring, and relaxed back into her chair smiling fondly at me.
Have my reproductive organs removed!?! How could that possibly be legal? Why in gods name hadn't I read through every one of those blasted sheets?
"How," I asked, "could you do that to me?" She stood up slowly, took her very own floe power pouch out and, throwing it into the fire before answering, replied "It was your fathers idea. We thought at the time you'd have children within the decade," and then she was gone.
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This is the pivotal point, you see.
This figure storming away from the Headmasters office after arguing the legal validity such a document, signed at 16 under false pretences, was a decidedly NOT happy man. Those days where over. I had to get. . .married. And the horrible woman who spat me out 36 years ago knew the only thing worse then marriage to ensure it happened.
If I didn't bread for her, she'd have my favourite bits cut off and given to someone else.
I'd simply have to marry someone. The worse part, of course, was that the Dark Lord had discovered my loyalties the year before. I couldn't leave the castle. I was stuck with a person from within this hallowed halls. Which Albus insisted wasn't that bad now that I had "Free range over the students. . .as long as you don't rape them, Severus. Your situation is unique after all. What? No, no, I'm not laughing at you! This is serious! Why don't you start here?. . . Do you want me to be your wife?"
A vicious growl at his cheery face latter I had departed. What a conniving. . .evil. . .meanie! Bastard-son-of-a bitch-fucker! 'Start with the staff, Severus', 'I'm sure Malfoy would love to take you hame with him Severus, even if it is to cut you into pieces and serve you to his father, Severus', 'You know Flitwick is just the right height for. . .'
You get the picture. And why do people always repeat your name when making fun?
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Ten minutes later I burst into the staff room to have a look at the prospects. Trelawney was defiantly out, and from the look of the large bulge under the blanket on her lap and she pretended to be having a VERY good dream on a couch near the fire, the just-the-right-height-for-exactly- that professor was out of the game too. All I can say is thank god!
Scanning from left to right I summed them up best I could.
Hagrid was most definitely out! Any male I buggar will want to bugger me back at some point. The thought of his size was enough to make me want to hide. . .
Hootch I was almost certainly was a lesbian. Given the angle of her sight, which was firmly placed on Sinistras chest, that was confirmed and she too was out. . .
Sinistra, while well endowed in the chest, had the classic muggle cartoon witch face. With warts on her nose, slightly green skin and giant yellow teeth, she was my female replica. Only my image was a glamour put on for when in front of the students (I signed my contract two decades before when any teacher under 40 years old had to use such charms) and her looks were completely natural. Rumour had it that this was actually what she looked like after 'fixing' herself up a bit. . .
Binns was dead. . .
Hawthorn (the Muggle studies teacher) was an actual muggle, need I say more?. . .
Vector was at the ripe old age of. . . 138. The second oldest after the headmaster and much to horrid to think about. . .
The new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher was not only incompetent, annoying and utterly self assured. . .he was sure to be dead, immobile, unable to speak or irreversibly damaged by the end of the year at the hands of Potter. . .
And that left McGonagall. Sitting in her chair, at age of 61, she was the last possibility.
We got along. . .sometimes. I respected her. . .sometimes. But I think the reason I went over to sit next to her was because counting her out meant to move on to the STUDENTS, and I wasn't ready for that.
Sitting next her in what I had hoped was a casual manner, but I've no doubt was stiff and robotic, I smiled at her with growing fear. This woman taught me for Christs sake! Raising an eyebrow and looking me up and down in a purely clinical manner she lowered her knitting (she was actually knitting as if to remind me of her age! OLDER THEN MY MOTHER!) and peered at me in suspicion. "You look nice today, Severus."
I made a slight grunt in response and shifted in my seat. She was a reasonable woman. No doubt she wouldn't want me near her 'children', I would just explain my problem.
"Minerva," I began, "my mother is legally entitled to, and fully intends I might add, to cut my. . .best bits. . .ALL of them. . . off. If I don't get married and have a child with someone by the end of the year."
Her face was like a muggle television while someone radically changed channels. Boredom switched to surprised. Surprise switched to disgust. Disgust to confusion. . .and finally confusion to wide eyed fear. (This is the point were she worked out exactly why I was telling her my problems.) Shifting in her seat she tried to compose herself. "hmmm. . .are you asking me? Too. . . do that?"
My face heated drastically as I tried to word my request right, "When I count you out of the running I have to move onto students. I don't DISS- like you. . . do you dislike me?" Looking up I saw a very uncomfortable Gryffindor searching for something to say. "No, I suppose I don't DISS-like you either. But well. . .um. . .we'd have to. . .you know? Touch?"
I'm sure you can see my problem. As we both shuddered and stammered through the most awkward conversation of my life to that point, we decided to try and kiss once. If we couldn't live with it, well it wouldn't work. At which point I was to stay far away form her Gryffindors. More stammering ensued as I explained while I didn't like any of her students (God Forbid!), I would not agree to it. I'd rather be Weasleys bitch then loose my bits. Reddening yet more, she agreed.
Each sitting on the edge of our seats, eyes closed tight and lips slowly coming closer, we sat trying to kiss. It wasn't as bad as Trelawney, but it was pretty bad. When out lips touched they stayed pressed shut firmly without moving for a moment before someone called out 'give it some tongue' in a very un-teacherly manner. Slowly opening my mouth as I felt hers do that same we were like to puffer fish really REALLY close. It was not a kiss.
She tilted her head a little in what I can only describe as hesitantly and closed her mouth on my bottom lip. I nearly gagged. Trying my hardest I moved a hand up. . . and then realised I didn't know where to put it. I reached for her shoulder but missed and upon touching something soft recoiled it as fast a possible. It hung in mid air for a moment before resting on her knee. I closed my lips over to top lip, but refused to suck. My mind was screaming 'old woman spit! ewww!' Most defiantly NO sucking.
Her hand came up to my cheek and shifted stiffly three or four times before lying as lightly as possible so that it could still be called touching. But who was I to comment on that? It was exactly the same way I was touching her knee.
We both pulled away and sat very still. And very far away from each other. Concentrating hard on NOT grimacing, on NOT wiping my mouth with my sleeve, on NOT spitting and screaming like a girl who just saw a cockroach. "That," I said, "wasn't exactly. . .I mean to say," but she cut me off, "That was horrible!" I sighed with relief and started to do all the things I'd told myself to resist. I grimaced, I wiped my mouth and I spat at the fire while making little squealy noises. Dignified, but squealy.
"I'm sorry, Severus. You'll have to marry a student." I nodded gravely and left the room for my dungeons.
A smarter man would have noticed the dozen teachers who looked intrigued by this as they started to whisper to each other and question McGonagall. My only defence was this was my hour of need.
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The next morning I entered the Great Hall for breakfast to be greeted with silence. A ten foot poster of my self, without the ugly glamorous I used to have to wear (Albus said I could take them off since I was to try and seduce the student body) and a large print up explaining my predicament as well. Slogans like 'This is what he really looks like! Do you really want a piece of hunk like this castrated?' not to mention a fake quote from 'me' saying ' here to service my students!'. Like I'd ever say something like that!
A swarm of girls and boys set foot towards me. I almost turned to run, but my love of my bits kept me standing tall and determined.
Terry Boot was the first to reach me, "Professor! If I marry you and have your children will you give me an A? Because then I could study more for my other classes! It would be so great to raise children here! Can you imagine how smart they'd be?" His glassy eyes fell when I answered back in the harshest voice I could muster, "No, I will not give you an A! Typical bloody Ravenclaw. . . "
"Professor Snape," Susan Bones cut me off, "How many children can we have? I think it's just awful what you mother is doing to you! I'd never do that to anyone! Can we have 13 children? I really like the number 13, it reminds me of this one time. . " I'd heard enough. I pulled my sleave from her grasp and replied, "I think not!" leaving her in a puddle of Hufflepuff tears over the children she could of had.
"Hello, Severus." I turned to see Blaise Zabini eyeing my coolly. She smirked up at me before continuing, "How many generations pure blood are you? And how much money are we talking?" There was a glint in her eyes at the word money, I almost shot out 'how very Slytherin', but considering my job thought better of it. "37 generations. . . why?" She smiled gleefully, well as gleefully as a Slytherin generally gets, before answering "That would boost my families reputation. I'm a very flexible woman, you know. You can have a mistress as long as I can too, and every second child gets the Zabini name. Of course there's the matter of weekly allowance to consider, by parents currently give me $2000 galleons a month. But they don't ask me to breed. . . I think we'll change that to weekly, yes?" She was starting to scare me so I turned down her offer and she actually gave me a business card before leaving. Just in case I changed my mind.
"How about as a trial you let me suck you cock?" I turned, somewhat startled, towards Seamus Finnegan. "Professor Snape? Did you hear me? Good. We'll go to your rooms, I'll show you what I can do. . .kind of like an interview! You'll love a Gryffindor! I'm very brave," The last was purred out with a slight growl," You can punish me when I'm naughty," Waggling his eyebrows, "You can tie me up and spank me! Bite me! Cut me! Claw me! Bugger me all night long and abuse my mouth until I can't speak anymore? I'm up for anything!" I ran away to my seat to hide. I don't know if that was Gryffindor or 'Irish man' showing. . .but it was just a little to much at 7.30 in the morning.
Once seated I looked across the hall. Many eye's were hungrily staring back. Many disgusted by the whole thing. Predictably Granger was lecturing half of her table on how deplorable the whole thing was, and that instead of offering to blow me they should be starting a campaign to nullify the contract. Moments latter she scurried off to the library to start the LSD's. . . I'm sorry that was L.S.D.S (Let Snapes Dick Survive!).
Weasley, Weasley, Weasley and Weasley where all looking affronted with their class mates and Potter. . .oh dear god! Potter was licking his lips at me! The record for most disturbing thing I've ever seen was being replaced allot lately. Inside Trelawney skirt, Hagrids obscene gestures in the halls that morning, Flitwicks grin of pubic haired teeth as he climbed down from Trelawneys tower moments later. . . and now Potter was staring hungrily at me.
The urge to hide behind Albus was growing. Even the Dark Lord was afraid of Albus, surely Potter wouldn't cross him? Before the meal began Albus stood up for the announcements. "As I am sure you are all aware form my posters," HIS fucking posters!?, "Severus is in need of a spouse. To aid him, I have cancelled all Potions classes until his wedding so that he may be free to. . . socialise. That is all"
My heart was pounding and I ran to my rooms to hide. This was terrible! This was horrible! This was not a happy man at all! Hidden away in my office I answered insistent nock after insistent knock.
Hanna Abbott wanted to ask if I would mind terribly doing her up the arse first, so she could see how big I was. "Oh yes! It has to be up the arse Sir! I couldn't possibly have sex until I'm married! None of the other boys have ever minded!" Decidedly not!
Mandy Blockhurst wanted to know the contractual details involved. With both our up and coming marriage and my possible castration, "It's all very interesting. I mean, can you get divorced once you've married and had a child? What if your partner is infertile? Can YOU carry it instead if you pick a boy?. . ." and so on. I told her she couldn't look at the contract because she was out of the running. I didn't need to spend the rest of my life being asked question after question!
Draco came by to tell me that he was sent with the message that he knew quite a few people willing to perform the castration, if I wanted. And that he would "NEVER fuck a low life turn-coat who chose muggle lovers and saint Potter over the cause!"
Neville Longbottom proved that Seamus' kink was an Irish trait at the same time as confirming why he was in Gryffindor (I was so sure he was a Hufflepuff at heart!) by stuttering out, "Well, um, my Gran said I should try. She said I'll never amount to anything if I don't at least give it a go. My parents would have tried, and well, um. . . I'm trying!" NOT a turn on. But undoubtedly brave.
Hermoine Granger came by to give me an L.S.D.S badge and to inform me of a rally next Saturday at noon in which I was to be a key speaker and show the people what they were working for to help team solidarity. When I informed her I would not be flashing the student body she took back the badge.
The final knock of the evening came with no one on the other side of the door. Checking down the corridor in confusion, I shrugged it off and returned to my chair. And sat on something invisible and rather hard. . . and phallic shaped.
I jumped up with a squeal and turned to see Potter removing his invisibility cloak, a ferrel grin on his face once more. I tried to back away but the table was to close. What's a man to do.
The boy stood before me and shifted his cloak off of his shoulders. He was naked underneath. Smooth golden brown skin as far as the eye could see. I almost forgot it was Potter. Almost. I opened my mouth to say something and he pointed his wand at me, muttering a spell, and I found myself handcuffed to the desk. Maybe, I thought, the kink is a Gryffindor trait and Longbottom IS in the wrong house after all.
"Professor Snape," He purred out in a very leonine manner, "you look a little uncomfortable"
Reaching out with both hands to start on my buttons as I tugged desperately at the cuff and tried to push his hands away with free appendage. I was doing a pretty good job too. . . which is why he repeated the spell and cuffed my other hand to the desk as well.
"You know, Professor Snape, I never knew you had a glamour on. I never knew you were the victim either. I'd always pictured my father being bullied by you."
My shirt was undone and he reached over to run his soft hands on my chest. How good it felt!
"So I went to ask the Headmaster about you and he told me you never were a real death eater. . ."
He kissed my chest,
"Do you know what else he told me?"
I shook my head incoherently,
"He said that he told you to be nasty to me so your position as a spy wouldn't me compromised. . ."
I moaned again when he drew his nails down my chest, not hard enough to tear the skin but enough that I could feel the pressure on each rib as he drew then down,
"He said you gave me pretty good marks too, but that he changed them so I'd hate you back and make our animosity more realistic. . ."
Those hands reached my waist and slowly unbuckled my belt before tugging it harshly off and starting on my fly,
"He said that you always followed me around making sure I was OK, in all my adventures, and that you volunteered to do occlumency lessons for me two years ago because you where afraid something would happen to me. . ."
With the fly undone he slipped and hand inside. Head tilted back and eyes closed as he removed his hand knelt down before me,
"He said that you always referred to me as your favourite student and that you wanted to take me in after my parents died. . .even though you hated my dad, just because you where 'friends' with my mother and didn't like my muggle relatives. . ."
He took off my pants, shoes and socks with all the reverence of a servant to a royal. Leaving me in my opened shirt and boxers, robe bunched up at my handcuffed wrists beside me,
"He said you only kept being mean to me after you were caught because you didn't want to alienate your Slytherins and you didn't think I'd ever forgive you for the charade. . ."
He was so close,
"He said you accidentally called me pretty last year. . ."
Suddenly I was naked,
"He said you failed Cho in Potions the year I dated her for no apparent reason. . ."
He muttered in annoyance with my hand cuffs and whispered a spell so the they came undone momentarily, my robe slipping off before they refastened at the other end of the table. He pushed me further back onto the wooden desk,
"He said he thinks you love me." Green eyes burning into mine with such intensity I had to whisper my reply, "Albus says allot. He's a very knowledgeable man after all."
He continued his welcome attack,
"I love you too." He whispered. Afterwards I lead him through a side door into my rooms where we slept the night away curled up in each others arms.
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Albus organised the wedding and the whole of Hogwarts (disgruntled Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Pearcy Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ginny Weasley and even Ron Weasley included) watched as the very manly no frills affair took place. Mother was elated, her son in law was pregnant that very afternoon.
And again 10 months latter.
And again 10 months after that. At which point my fear of turning into the Weasleys made me abstain until Harry agreed to stop slipping me the fertility potion.
10 months later he was pregnant again.
I said the Happy Severus was gone. Well, he is. I'm not Happy. I'm gleefully filled with (very masculine) butterflies to a point beyond all happiness.
Sitting, quite happily, eating my breakfast and scowling at the hundreds of disgusting students before me, I was contemplating the days classes. Suddenly Trelawney was sitting ON my breakfast. As you can imagine I nearly choked. This is a woman who cowers in fear at my mere sight. A women who sends shudders of disgust through my veins ( like so many others really) every time I see her sway past doing her damndest to impersonate a drug overdose patient. And suddenly my dry toast (no butter) is covered in skinny fortune teller. Batting what seem like enormous eye lashes at me through half an inch thick glass.
What happened next was really my own fault. I should have moved immediately, but so shocked I found myself frozen. I shudder just recalling - she lifted both legs and placed them on either side of my chair, pulling me further towards the table and her oddly dressed body. I'm sure my face showed astonishment. Perhaps even fear as I noticed the swaying layers of material that had always reminded me of the homeless were replaced with a rather tight fitting and short cut dress. I leaned back in my chair to escape. The world had clearly gone mad.
"Sevvie...darling!" I can only describe her voice as an attempt at a purr, and her arms coming to rest on my shoulders at what I'm sure she thought an enticing gesture. My eye's grew wide as I tried desperately to sink into my chair. The entire hall was silent. Why wasn't anyone rescuing me?
Her chest shifted, no doubt trying to draw my attention, but I would not look down. This woman was 50 years old! I myself was only 36 at the time. Like any man in their thirties, I feared the sagging and wrinkled mounds all and any breast I would see in a decade form now would look like. There was no need to advance that horror.
Finding my voice, although I would sware the tiny squeak it came out of was not MY voice, I timidly asked "What's wrong?" She pulled her arms back to place behind herself and lean against the table. Her thin and wrinkled mouth giggling under those enormous spectacles. "Why would anything be wrong, Sevvie?"
I swallowed the bile making a mad dash to exit my mouth and tried to push my chair back. Albus could go fuck himself! If this was the sort of behaviour I would have to put up with I'd much rather eat in my rooms, ALONE! But my chair didn't move. For an old wench, her leg muscles where rather strong. I'd have to touch them to move them. That wasn't about to happen anytime soon.
Albus suddenly spoke up and I found myself retracting my previous damnation of the man. If he could get her to let go I mentally promised to buy him a tone of Sherbet Lemons. "Professor? Are you alright, dear? Perhaps you should let Severus go?"
Where was the demanding and feared Albus Dumbledore when you needed him? Calling her pet names as I slowly die from fear and disgust was hardly helping. I wanted to scream 'kill the possessed bitch and be done with it!'. But to tell you the truth, I feared her reaction. What if she, in an attempt to up this supposed seduction. . .hugged me? I shuddered again at the though.
Her screechy voice brought me back. "No, Headmaster. I'm fine. Just discussing my future with Sevvie." To emphasize my name she wiggled her legs and I closed my eyes tight to block out the double jiggle of her old woman thighs. Scrunched up into myself like a man awaiting Arvada Kadavra. Situations like these never end well.
"And why," The headmaster continued, "would you need to talk to Severus about your future while sitting on his breakfast dressed. . .ah. . . so. . . festively?" The old man was as diplomatic as ever. Dressed like a two nut whore! Everyone in this god forsaken hall was thinking it, why couldn't the old man just say it?! Did he really expect me to be able to talk in such a state!?!
"Because, Headmaster, I'm going to marry him!" My eye's flew open at this and I shot out of my chair. She was too close and my head collided with hers with a resounding thunk, sending her sprawling backwards over the table and revealing ( to my great horror and little Flitwicks apparent delight) that she had assumed underwear and unnecessary addition to the outfit.
One hand clamped over my forehead as I backed away form the woman to discreetly hide behind the headmaster. I yelled out for the whole hall to hear "We are not! What in the blazes gave you that idea?!" I couldn't have the students of staff thinking there was any credence to this story after all.
To my great distaste Albus turned on me disapprovingly and tutted like a mother hen. "tut, tut, Severus. I thought you'd stopped all that in School? If you bed a woman under false pretences your bound to have these problems."
I couldn't believe my ears, even as they turned red. Sniffled giggles and 'eww's ran through the student body. Indignantly I rushed to repair the damage, "That was ONE girl nearly twenty years ago! Can't you ever let things rest? Besides, she married quite happily to another man if you recall. AND, I've never touched THAT horrible old bag!" Much like a five year old my finger was pointed out to the woman still sitting on my breakfast. Flitwick stood in front of her winking suggestively. To my great relief she spoke up in my defence, "Of course you haven't touched me yet! We're not even married!"
The hall quieted down and hundreds of brows creased in confusion. Albus the owner of one such set. I noticed I still had one hand covering my no longer hurting forehead while the other was still pointed at the offending women so I lowered both quickly and decided to ask the question on every ones lips, "But why do you think we're getting married?"
That was when she uttered those four dreaded words. Four words to ruin my life. . .
"Your mother said so!"
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Throwing the magical ash into my fireplace and summoning the wench from which I came, I nervously awaited her arrival. Questions coursing through my mind.
Why was Trelawney talking to my mother?
Why did my mother say I'd marry the old bag?
DID my mother say I'd marry the old bag?. . .which inevitably turned to,
DID my mother talk to her at all?
But, most importantly, what in the seven hells was going on?
When the regal form of Mistress Snape stepped through the grate I bombarded her with the first thing to pop into my mind. . . unfortunately.
"What in the fuck is wrong with you, woman!"
She turned to me, startled. I don't think I'd ever sworn in front of her before, let alone at her in such a manner. Distress showed on her face as she made herself comfortable in my chair. "I was afraid you might react this way." She sounded weary. A voice I would normally dote towards with questions of her health and other sonly concerns. Instead my face grew red with anger. She did do it!
"Well!?!"
She sighed and patted the chair beside her and I found myself sitting like a well trained dog before I thought of it. How good I had become at taking orders. Too many chiefs and not enough kitchen. Between Mother, Albus and the Dark Lord no one would ever be able to cook in me again.
"Your 36 years old, Severus. A man your age should have a wife and children. A man your age, with no brothers, or sisters, or cousins, or ANY relatives carrying his name should have a wife and a dozen children. I'm an old woman, my dear boy. I want to be assured my family will continue before I die."
Some of my anger ebbed away. "Are you ill?" Worry was brought to the fore. Mummy? "No, Sev. I'm not ill. I'm just old." My worry vanished in an instant. How very manipulative.
"Your 56 years old! Albus is 149. I'm sure you'll be fine!" My voice had once again risen and I stood up. The movement was more to prove I didn't have to sit just because she'd told me to, but once I was up I really wanted to sit down again. So I sat somewhere else. All the while feeling like an eleven year old screaming 'I don't wanna go to bed! I'm not tired!' who then promptly falls to sleep the moment their head hits the pillow. How does she always make me feel small?
She sighed in her melodramatic way and continued in her old-lady-voice. "You have to get married. It's in the contract. You only have a year left. If you don't like my friends then you'll have to find one yourself."
One question resounded in my head. . .hha? My face must have shown my confusion because she explained without being prompted, "Remember when you were 17, and I gave you all those papers to sign for college?" I nodded, "Well. . .one of them wasn't for college. I slipped it in thinking you wouldn't read it." My mouth fell open in astonishment. My own mother did that to me?!? But. . .how could she!?!
"The contract said, and I quote;
"I, Severus Snape, only heir to the Snape name and fortune, only son of Saveo and Selinia Snape and all their forebears, agree to have my reproductive organs removed and magically placed onto a willing party should I fail to produce an heir by then end of two decades from now, be it with a man or woman, so that the great name of Snape may live on for all of eternity. . . etc' ,
". . .you get the point. Now, It did specify a potion (should you be running late) that you take and will make your wife, or husband should you choose, pregnant upon the first copulation after ingestion. However, your heir must carry the Snape name and it must be legitimate." She yawned, as if this was all terribly boring, and relaxed back into her chair smiling fondly at me.
Have my reproductive organs removed!?! How could that possibly be legal? Why in gods name hadn't I read through every one of those blasted sheets?
"How," I asked, "could you do that to me?" She stood up slowly, took her very own floe power pouch out and, throwing it into the fire before answering, replied "It was your fathers idea. We thought at the time you'd have children within the decade," and then she was gone.
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This is the pivotal point, you see.
This figure storming away from the Headmasters office after arguing the legal validity such a document, signed at 16 under false pretences, was a decidedly NOT happy man. Those days where over. I had to get. . .married. And the horrible woman who spat me out 36 years ago knew the only thing worse then marriage to ensure it happened.
If I didn't bread for her, she'd have my favourite bits cut off and given to someone else.
I'd simply have to marry someone. The worse part, of course, was that the Dark Lord had discovered my loyalties the year before. I couldn't leave the castle. I was stuck with a person from within this hallowed halls. Which Albus insisted wasn't that bad now that I had "Free range over the students. . .as long as you don't rape them, Severus. Your situation is unique after all. What? No, no, I'm not laughing at you! This is serious! Why don't you start here?. . . Do you want me to be your wife?"
A vicious growl at his cheery face latter I had departed. What a conniving. . .evil. . .meanie! Bastard-son-of-a bitch-fucker! 'Start with the staff, Severus', 'I'm sure Malfoy would love to take you hame with him Severus, even if it is to cut you into pieces and serve you to his father, Severus', 'You know Flitwick is just the right height for. . .'
You get the picture. And why do people always repeat your name when making fun?
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Ten minutes later I burst into the staff room to have a look at the prospects. Trelawney was defiantly out, and from the look of the large bulge under the blanket on her lap and she pretended to be having a VERY good dream on a couch near the fire, the just-the-right-height-for-exactly- that professor was out of the game too. All I can say is thank god!
Scanning from left to right I summed them up best I could.
Hagrid was most definitely out! Any male I buggar will want to bugger me back at some point. The thought of his size was enough to make me want to hide. . .
Hootch I was almost certainly was a lesbian. Given the angle of her sight, which was firmly placed on Sinistras chest, that was confirmed and she too was out. . .
Sinistra, while well endowed in the chest, had the classic muggle cartoon witch face. With warts on her nose, slightly green skin and giant yellow teeth, she was my female replica. Only my image was a glamour put on for when in front of the students (I signed my contract two decades before when any teacher under 40 years old had to use such charms) and her looks were completely natural. Rumour had it that this was actually what she looked like after 'fixing' herself up a bit. . .
Binns was dead. . .
Hawthorn (the Muggle studies teacher) was an actual muggle, need I say more?. . .
Vector was at the ripe old age of. . . 138. The second oldest after the headmaster and much to horrid to think about. . .
The new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher was not only incompetent, annoying and utterly self assured. . .he was sure to be dead, immobile, unable to speak or irreversibly damaged by the end of the year at the hands of Potter. . .
And that left McGonagall. Sitting in her chair, at age of 61, she was the last possibility.
We got along. . .sometimes. I respected her. . .sometimes. But I think the reason I went over to sit next to her was because counting her out meant to move on to the STUDENTS, and I wasn't ready for that.
Sitting next her in what I had hoped was a casual manner, but I've no doubt was stiff and robotic, I smiled at her with growing fear. This woman taught me for Christs sake! Raising an eyebrow and looking me up and down in a purely clinical manner she lowered her knitting (she was actually knitting as if to remind me of her age! OLDER THEN MY MOTHER!) and peered at me in suspicion. "You look nice today, Severus."
I made a slight grunt in response and shifted in my seat. She was a reasonable woman. No doubt she wouldn't want me near her 'children', I would just explain my problem.
"Minerva," I began, "my mother is legally entitled to, and fully intends I might add, to cut my. . .best bits. . .ALL of them. . . off. If I don't get married and have a child with someone by the end of the year."
Her face was like a muggle television while someone radically changed channels. Boredom switched to surprised. Surprise switched to disgust. Disgust to confusion. . .and finally confusion to wide eyed fear. (This is the point were she worked out exactly why I was telling her my problems.) Shifting in her seat she tried to compose herself. "hmmm. . .are you asking me? Too. . . do that?"
My face heated drastically as I tried to word my request right, "When I count you out of the running I have to move onto students. I don't DISS- like you. . . do you dislike me?" Looking up I saw a very uncomfortable Gryffindor searching for something to say. "No, I suppose I don't DISS-like you either. But well. . .um. . .we'd have to. . .you know? Touch?"
I'm sure you can see my problem. As we both shuddered and stammered through the most awkward conversation of my life to that point, we decided to try and kiss once. If we couldn't live with it, well it wouldn't work. At which point I was to stay far away form her Gryffindors. More stammering ensued as I explained while I didn't like any of her students (God Forbid!), I would not agree to it. I'd rather be Weasleys bitch then loose my bits. Reddening yet more, she agreed.
Each sitting on the edge of our seats, eyes closed tight and lips slowly coming closer, we sat trying to kiss. It wasn't as bad as Trelawney, but it was pretty bad. When out lips touched they stayed pressed shut firmly without moving for a moment before someone called out 'give it some tongue' in a very un-teacherly manner. Slowly opening my mouth as I felt hers do that same we were like to puffer fish really REALLY close. It was not a kiss.
She tilted her head a little in what I can only describe as hesitantly and closed her mouth on my bottom lip. I nearly gagged. Trying my hardest I moved a hand up. . . and then realised I didn't know where to put it. I reached for her shoulder but missed and upon touching something soft recoiled it as fast a possible. It hung in mid air for a moment before resting on her knee. I closed my lips over to top lip, but refused to suck. My mind was screaming 'old woman spit! ewww!' Most defiantly NO sucking.
Her hand came up to my cheek and shifted stiffly three or four times before lying as lightly as possible so that it could still be called touching. But who was I to comment on that? It was exactly the same way I was touching her knee.
We both pulled away and sat very still. And very far away from each other. Concentrating hard on NOT grimacing, on NOT wiping my mouth with my sleeve, on NOT spitting and screaming like a girl who just saw a cockroach. "That," I said, "wasn't exactly. . .I mean to say," but she cut me off, "That was horrible!" I sighed with relief and started to do all the things I'd told myself to resist. I grimaced, I wiped my mouth and I spat at the fire while making little squealy noises. Dignified, but squealy.
"I'm sorry, Severus. You'll have to marry a student." I nodded gravely and left the room for my dungeons.
A smarter man would have noticed the dozen teachers who looked intrigued by this as they started to whisper to each other and question McGonagall. My only defence was this was my hour of need.
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The next morning I entered the Great Hall for breakfast to be greeted with silence. A ten foot poster of my self, without the ugly glamorous I used to have to wear (Albus said I could take them off since I was to try and seduce the student body) and a large print up explaining my predicament as well. Slogans like 'This is what he really looks like! Do you really want a piece of hunk like this castrated?' not to mention a fake quote from 'me' saying ' here to service my students!'. Like I'd ever say something like that!
A swarm of girls and boys set foot towards me. I almost turned to run, but my love of my bits kept me standing tall and determined.
Terry Boot was the first to reach me, "Professor! If I marry you and have your children will you give me an A? Because then I could study more for my other classes! It would be so great to raise children here! Can you imagine how smart they'd be?" His glassy eyes fell when I answered back in the harshest voice I could muster, "No, I will not give you an A! Typical bloody Ravenclaw. . . "
"Professor Snape," Susan Bones cut me off, "How many children can we have? I think it's just awful what you mother is doing to you! I'd never do that to anyone! Can we have 13 children? I really like the number 13, it reminds me of this one time. . " I'd heard enough. I pulled my sleave from her grasp and replied, "I think not!" leaving her in a puddle of Hufflepuff tears over the children she could of had.
"Hello, Severus." I turned to see Blaise Zabini eyeing my coolly. She smirked up at me before continuing, "How many generations pure blood are you? And how much money are we talking?" There was a glint in her eyes at the word money, I almost shot out 'how very Slytherin', but considering my job thought better of it. "37 generations. . . why?" She smiled gleefully, well as gleefully as a Slytherin generally gets, before answering "That would boost my families reputation. I'm a very flexible woman, you know. You can have a mistress as long as I can too, and every second child gets the Zabini name. Of course there's the matter of weekly allowance to consider, by parents currently give me $2000 galleons a month. But they don't ask me to breed. . . I think we'll change that to weekly, yes?" She was starting to scare me so I turned down her offer and she actually gave me a business card before leaving. Just in case I changed my mind.
"How about as a trial you let me suck you cock?" I turned, somewhat startled, towards Seamus Finnegan. "Professor Snape? Did you hear me? Good. We'll go to your rooms, I'll show you what I can do. . .kind of like an interview! You'll love a Gryffindor! I'm very brave," The last was purred out with a slight growl," You can punish me when I'm naughty," Waggling his eyebrows, "You can tie me up and spank me! Bite me! Cut me! Claw me! Bugger me all night long and abuse my mouth until I can't speak anymore? I'm up for anything!" I ran away to my seat to hide. I don't know if that was Gryffindor or 'Irish man' showing. . .but it was just a little to much at 7.30 in the morning.
Once seated I looked across the hall. Many eye's were hungrily staring back. Many disgusted by the whole thing. Predictably Granger was lecturing half of her table on how deplorable the whole thing was, and that instead of offering to blow me they should be starting a campaign to nullify the contract. Moments latter she scurried off to the library to start the LSD's. . . I'm sorry that was L.S.D.S (Let Snapes Dick Survive!).
Weasley, Weasley, Weasley and Weasley where all looking affronted with their class mates and Potter. . .oh dear god! Potter was licking his lips at me! The record for most disturbing thing I've ever seen was being replaced allot lately. Inside Trelawney skirt, Hagrids obscene gestures in the halls that morning, Flitwicks grin of pubic haired teeth as he climbed down from Trelawneys tower moments later. . . and now Potter was staring hungrily at me.
The urge to hide behind Albus was growing. Even the Dark Lord was afraid of Albus, surely Potter wouldn't cross him? Before the meal began Albus stood up for the announcements. "As I am sure you are all aware form my posters," HIS fucking posters!?, "Severus is in need of a spouse. To aid him, I have cancelled all Potions classes until his wedding so that he may be free to. . . socialise. That is all"
My heart was pounding and I ran to my rooms to hide. This was terrible! This was horrible! This was not a happy man at all! Hidden away in my office I answered insistent nock after insistent knock.
Hanna Abbott wanted to ask if I would mind terribly doing her up the arse first, so she could see how big I was. "Oh yes! It has to be up the arse Sir! I couldn't possibly have sex until I'm married! None of the other boys have ever minded!" Decidedly not!
Mandy Blockhurst wanted to know the contractual details involved. With both our up and coming marriage and my possible castration, "It's all very interesting. I mean, can you get divorced once you've married and had a child? What if your partner is infertile? Can YOU carry it instead if you pick a boy?. . ." and so on. I told her she couldn't look at the contract because she was out of the running. I didn't need to spend the rest of my life being asked question after question!
Draco came by to tell me that he was sent with the message that he knew quite a few people willing to perform the castration, if I wanted. And that he would "NEVER fuck a low life turn-coat who chose muggle lovers and saint Potter over the cause!"
Neville Longbottom proved that Seamus' kink was an Irish trait at the same time as confirming why he was in Gryffindor (I was so sure he was a Hufflepuff at heart!) by stuttering out, "Well, um, my Gran said I should try. She said I'll never amount to anything if I don't at least give it a go. My parents would have tried, and well, um. . . I'm trying!" NOT a turn on. But undoubtedly brave.
Hermoine Granger came by to give me an L.S.D.S badge and to inform me of a rally next Saturday at noon in which I was to be a key speaker and show the people what they were working for to help team solidarity. When I informed her I would not be flashing the student body she took back the badge.
The final knock of the evening came with no one on the other side of the door. Checking down the corridor in confusion, I shrugged it off and returned to my chair. And sat on something invisible and rather hard. . . and phallic shaped.
I jumped up with a squeal and turned to see Potter removing his invisibility cloak, a ferrel grin on his face once more. I tried to back away but the table was to close. What's a man to do.
The boy stood before me and shifted his cloak off of his shoulders. He was naked underneath. Smooth golden brown skin as far as the eye could see. I almost forgot it was Potter. Almost. I opened my mouth to say something and he pointed his wand at me, muttering a spell, and I found myself handcuffed to the desk. Maybe, I thought, the kink is a Gryffindor trait and Longbottom IS in the wrong house after all.
"Professor Snape," He purred out in a very leonine manner, "you look a little uncomfortable"
Reaching out with both hands to start on my buttons as I tugged desperately at the cuff and tried to push his hands away with free appendage. I was doing a pretty good job too. . . which is why he repeated the spell and cuffed my other hand to the desk as well.
"You know, Professor Snape, I never knew you had a glamour on. I never knew you were the victim either. I'd always pictured my father being bullied by you."
My shirt was undone and he reached over to run his soft hands on my chest. How good it felt!
"So I went to ask the Headmaster about you and he told me you never were a real death eater. . ."
He kissed my chest,
"Do you know what else he told me?"
I shook my head incoherently,
"He said that he told you to be nasty to me so your position as a spy wouldn't me compromised. . ."
I moaned again when he drew his nails down my chest, not hard enough to tear the skin but enough that I could feel the pressure on each rib as he drew then down,
"He said you gave me pretty good marks too, but that he changed them so I'd hate you back and make our animosity more realistic. . ."
Those hands reached my waist and slowly unbuckled my belt before tugging it harshly off and starting on my fly,
"He said that you always followed me around making sure I was OK, in all my adventures, and that you volunteered to do occlumency lessons for me two years ago because you where afraid something would happen to me. . ."
With the fly undone he slipped and hand inside. Head tilted back and eyes closed as he removed his hand knelt down before me,
"He said that you always referred to me as your favourite student and that you wanted to take me in after my parents died. . .even though you hated my dad, just because you where 'friends' with my mother and didn't like my muggle relatives. . ."
He took off my pants, shoes and socks with all the reverence of a servant to a royal. Leaving me in my opened shirt and boxers, robe bunched up at my handcuffed wrists beside me,
"He said you only kept being mean to me after you were caught because you didn't want to alienate your Slytherins and you didn't think I'd ever forgive you for the charade. . ."
He was so close,
"He said you accidentally called me pretty last year. . ."
Suddenly I was naked,
"He said you failed Cho in Potions the year I dated her for no apparent reason. . ."
He muttered in annoyance with my hand cuffs and whispered a spell so the they came undone momentarily, my robe slipping off before they refastened at the other end of the table. He pushed me further back onto the wooden desk,
"He said he thinks you love me." Green eyes burning into mine with such intensity I had to whisper my reply, "Albus says allot. He's a very knowledgeable man after all."
He continued his welcome attack,
"I love you too." He whispered. Afterwards I lead him through a side door into my rooms where we slept the night away curled up in each others arms.
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Albus organised the wedding and the whole of Hogwarts (disgruntled Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Pearcy Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ginny Weasley and even Ron Weasley included) watched as the very manly no frills affair took place. Mother was elated, her son in law was pregnant that very afternoon.
And again 10 months latter.
And again 10 months after that. At which point my fear of turning into the Weasleys made me abstain until Harry agreed to stop slipping me the fertility potion.
10 months later he was pregnant again.
I said the Happy Severus was gone. Well, he is. I'm not Happy. I'm gleefully filled with (very masculine) butterflies to a point beyond all happiness.