Disclaimer #1 – Not my characters.
Disclaimer #2 – AU, Dark Fic, Non con, Mpreg, angst, child abuse (sex/physical)
"Horace, may I speak with you?" Minerva politely questioned.
The balding Potions Master beamed at her. "Absolutely, my dear. It would be a definite pleasure! Come right into my office!"
Horace Slughorn grandiosely ushered her into his office, and he stopped smiling. No, instead, his face was somber, and Horace had his arms crossed.
"Has the Headmaster decided to trust me with the truth with what happened with Severus? Or have you been selected to attempt to sell me a retrofitted Blue Bottle broom as a Nimbus 2003?"
"You wound me. Horace," Minerva fondly retorted, as she did have warm memories of a few nights spent with Horace. A bon vivant, Horace approached making love with the same gusto as he did eating. He was a gourmet, which meant he savored the experience, and he'd take as many delightful hours as necessary to ensure a wonderful encounter for his partner. Plus, he always ensured that he always left room for afters. "I actually have a Shooting Star that I wish to sell you. With a fresh Cushion charm that's good for one hundred thousand kilometers!"
The Potions Master laughed, and he motioned for her to join him in Flooing to his personal quarters where it was less likely they'd be overheard. They were soon both ensconced in his suite, and he quickly began to act as a proper host. "Care for anything? Tea?"
"No, I'm fine," Minerva insisted quickly, as she sat down in a very comfortable chair. If you didn't watch yourself with Horace, you'd be treated to a High Tea irregardless of the time. As it was, she found herself sipping a very fine wine, and eyeing a small spread that appeared out of nowhere. With all the excitement lately, she hadn't really eaten since… Friday morning? Perhaps a biscuit or two might not be amiss, as Merlin's scrote! It was Saturday evening? "What have you done to this place? It looks bigger."
"It should be as I used a few Charms to enlarge my quarters. Else I couldn't fit the piano in and I do so love to play," Horace admitted, after he took a long appreciative sip of wine. "Minerva, stop trying to flatter me. I'm vain, I'm foolish, and I'm many, many other things, but I certainly know when a pretty witch is spinning a tall tale. So the question is how much will Dumbledore allow you to tell me?"
Horace's shrewd blue eyes were amused, and Minerva conceded the point.
"Albus has given me leeway to inform you as much as I deem necessary. Horace, Severus was captured by Death Eaters. They Polyjuiced themselves in a literal army of Albuses…"
"Merlin's Beard," Horace swore.
"To make a long story short, Severus was physically, mentally and sexually abused by 'Albus'. They amputated his arm, and it wasn't a clean wound. We're in need of your assistance as a Potion Master as Poppy feels unable to meet the challenge of treating Severus."
"My word, Minerva, what ever you need I will do," Horace insisted. "But why are you coming to me? Is it a magical wound that Madam Pompfrey is unable to heal? Then the boy needs to be in St. Mungo's then, not here."
"Horace, I need to know. Do you have Severus' best interests at heart?" Minerva questioned. "I need you to swear to me that you do, and that what I have told you will never reveal to another soul."
Her green eyes were intense as she peered into Horace's blue eyes. It was so tricky to pin Horace down to anything, as he could weasel his way out of anything, but once he finally gave it, he was good for his word.
"Minerva, how could ask me this? He's a former student of mine, and a fellow Slytherin," Horace protested, smoothly evading her question and therefore avoiding the need to answer
"Because as you have plainly forgotten, it was former students of yours, and fellow Slytherins that did this to him," Minerva snapped. She quickly stood up, and made as if to leave. "I shouldn't have hoped that you'd be willing to help. Go sit on your fence, Horace. I'll throw in the damn Cushion Charm for your fat bloody arse."
"Bloody hell, Min, sit down, sit down, there's no need to make disparaging comments about the impressive size of my rear, as I've spent years cultivating it to its current size. Yes, I promise that this conversation will go to my grave," Horace insisted. "I'll take a Wizard's Oath. The Slytherin House has been in an uproar because of Severus' disappearance. They feel abandoned by Severus."
"Abandoned?" Minerva softly questioned. To her horror, she hadn't noticed the Slytherins acting any different since Severus' disappearance then their norm.
"Yes, Albus' decision to promote the lie that Severus quit over the holidays, without so much as saying goodbye to his Slytherin Students, quite upset them. You may find this hard to believe, but the Slytherins students loved their House Head. Minerva, what would be your house's response if you decided to up and quit over the holidays? Without so much as a word to them? No, the first time they'd hear about it was when they returned to Hogwarts? How would they react? Now, I need to speak to Severus to find out how he wishes the matter to be handled. We need a proper plan. When can I speak to him?"
With a final sip of his wine, Horace began casting, and assorted medicinal potions books zipped from various parts of his quarters and slowly stacked themselves neatly into a pile on the table. With a casual, almost negligent gesture, Horace had them jump into a large bag, which he immediately reduced to a smaller size. He picked them up and put them into his pocket. .
"I'll need to speak to Poppy, naturally, to determine what the issue in question is. Why don't you tell me, Minerva? I'll need to know."
"Swear your wizard's oath, Horace. Swear it now, in front of me," Minerva insisted. "Else I'll Obliviate this conversation."
"Minerva, you know that I like my women feisty, but you're taking a dangerously close step toward domineering," Horace retorted. "But very well then."
He spoke the formal Wizard Oath and then clasped her hand, before adding an impromptu, "And Minerva McGonagall can strike me dead if I reveal this conversation to anyone that she does not wish me to do so. At this moment, I believe I have your permission to freely talk about this matter to Severus, Poppy, Albus and you."
"Filius," Minerva quickly added.
"Very well then. I so swear!"
There was a brief tingling in her hands, as the spell was cast. Then Minerva asked Horace a simple question.
"Have you ever heard of Paters Gignere Ingeniter?"
"Bloody hell! Are you saying that Severus is…." For a wonder, Horace Slughorn was speechless.
"Yes," Minerva answered.
"Is there nerve damage to his arm? No wonder you're having problems. Very well, I'm off to speak with Poppy. This will be no doubt a very long conversation so please don't wait for me to return. But feel free to finish the wine, Minerva."
And with that, Horace Slughorn Floo'd to the infirmary, leaving a very bemused Minerva in his wake.
"I've forgotten how forceful Horace can be at times," she admitted with a dry laugh. "When you can get him off his bloody fence."
He was in trouble though it wasn't his fault. Truly it wasn't, it was that damnable Potter and Black, who had caught in the hallway and hexed him. They had Befuddled him and then had cast JellyLegs and Glisseo, causing him to slip down the stairs, crashing into Professor McGonagall at a high rate of speed and successfully knocking her off her feet.
She had ignored his protestations of innocence, and she had dragged him by his ear to the Headmaster's office where it was promptly decided that it was the dirty, evil Slytherin's fault.
"Expulsion," the Headmaster decided. "An unwarranted attack on a Professor calls for immediate Expulsion."
To his utter horror, Severus began sobbing in front of both Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster. To be Expelled from Hogwarts? What would his mum say? After they had spent all that money on this clothes and books?
"I don't believe it was an unwarranted attack, Professor Dumbledore, as just so much a misdirected spell between three quarreling school boys. I don't believe the boy did it deliberately," McGonagall insisted. "I should have landed on my feet as I'm a cat animagus after all. This incident does not merit Expulsion, perhaps just a detention."
"Very well, Professor McGonagall. Mr. Snape, you will apologize to Professor McGonagall and thank her for her leniency."
He blubbered his apology, hiccupping and sobbing so hard that McGonagall promptly accepted his apology before he had managed to stammer out more than a few broken, nonsensical words. She quickly left him alone in the Headmaster's office, and the Headmaster sighed.
"What am I to do with you? I am tired of seeing you in my office for various offenses, and your only excuse for each new transgression is a pathetic whinging that you weren't at fault. Expulsion is truly the only option for chronic miscreants."
He was only twelve, and a scared twelve at that, so he began sobbing still harder, promising that he'd be better, and he didn't want to be Expelled from Hogwarts.
"Perhaps, I can beat your naughtiness out of you," the Headmaster stated softly. "I outlawed corporal punishment when I became Headmaster, but you are so very set on misbehaving. You are insistent on being very intransigent, Mr. Snape, so perhaps an exception to my ban on caning might prove productive. Ten lashes, Mr. Snape."
"Remove your trousers and pants," the Headmaster ordered. "Then stand until I return."
He was standing there, with his long shirt, barely covering when his bits when the Headmaster returned with the rattan. Severus began shaking when he saw the instrument of his punishment. The Headmaster stood next to his desk, and he motioned for Severus to come towards him.
Naturally, he stayed right where he was, his legs refusing to move.
"Eleven," the Headmaster stated.
Again, the crook of the Headmaster's finger, and Severus' legs still refused to move.
"Twelve," the Headmaster calmly stated, as though he were asking Severus if he wanted sugar for his tea.
By the number fifteen, Severus was standing by the desk.
"Raise your shirt, and put your hands on the desk."
His punishment was up to eighteen lashes, before he had his hands on the desk.
"Nineteen, Mr. Snape. I shouldn't have to tell you to bend over the desk," the Headmaster stated.
He bent, but realized that the Headmaster could see his bits, so he struggled to hide them with his shirt.
"Twenty!" the Headmaster's voice was still soft as he continued, "You've managed to double your punishment by being obstinate. Continual, willful disobedience will now earn you five additional lashes."
His weeping redoubled, he bent over the desk, wishing that he could be brave, and bear his punishment like a Gryffindor. Sirius Black never sniveled.
"Twenty five," was the next pronouncement from the Headmaster. "Stop your weeping Snivellous."
Severus put his hand in his mouth, biting down on it to muffle his sobs.
He nearly screamed when he first felt the rattan against his naked skin. The Headmaster was putting his all into his swing.
"One…."
The lashes continued to fall, and the Headmaster continued to calmly count until he reached twenty five.
"There's no skin left on your buttocks, boy. Now, go lie down on the couch. Keep your shirt off your cheeks."
"Face up?" Severus quickly asked, fearful of angering the Headmaster.
"Face down." The Headmaster laughed softly.
Severus did so, terrified of furthering riling the Headmaster. His burning buttocks were raw and bloody, and they seemed to have tripled in size, They were radiating heat, pulsating in time to his racing heartbeat, and Severus knew that there was no way he'd be able to wear pants, let alone trousers. How did the Headmaster think that he'd be able to sit for classes tomorrow?
The horrible realization that the Headmaster knew that he'd be in horrific pain tomorrow, but he didn't care one lick because Severus was a dirty little Slytherin came to him quickly.
He felt the Headmaster touch his cheek, and he whimpered.
"Easy, boy, this will sting, but it will ensure that there's no infection." The Headmaster explained. "But I better change the couch to a cot. It will make it easier to apply the medication. Can you prop yourself up? It'll be easier for you to drink."
The couch changed to a single bed, with a soft mattress. He propped himself using his elbows, and the Headmaster handed him a cup of Hot Chocolate.
"Drink it. After I punish students, I always give them Hot Chocolate. That way they know that after their punishment has been meted out, all has been forgiven," the Headmaster gently insisted, and so Severus drank.
In all this life, he had never tasted such a treat. The Hot Chocolate was unlike any Hot Chocolate he had ever tasted, rich and creamy, and he gratefully drank every drop. When he was done drinking, Severus felt… safe.
"This might sting, Severus."
The Headmaster's fingers were covered with a cool cream, which burned when he massaged it into the painful welts on Severus' sensitive skin. He was thorough, massaging the ointment into Severus' wounds, ignoring how the boy whimpered as the ointment stung.
"Considering what a tough skinned little Slytherin you are, I have to confess that I'm surprised that your skin was so delicate."
There was a cool burst of air against his skin, and Severus realized that the Headmaster was blowing on his wounds to take the sting away.
He was so tired, and he was drifting.
The Headmaster insisted on him drinking another cup of Hot Chocolate, and he was barely able to finish it before he was sleeping in a half-doze. Meanwhile, the Headmaster continued to massage and knead his cheeks with his salve covered hands. Slowly and deliberately, the Headmaster squeezed and rubbed his buttocks, gently blowing on his raw wounds to take the sting away, and Severus continued to drift in a warm haze.
The Headmaster's hands were … in a strange area…massaging and fondling him and Severus attempted to close his legs, but the Headmaster's legs were positioned so as to make it impossible. It didn't stop him from struggling, and the Headmaster continued to knead and rub him in the most private of areas. It felt…good… but it was… wrong… to be touched there.
"Easy," the Headmaster's voice whispered in his ear. "It'll be easier if you don't struggle. Relax, doesn't it feel so good? Don't you trust me?"
"No…" Severus whispered. "Yes…"
"Which is it?" The Headmaster intently questioned. When Severus didn't immediately answer, the Headmaster began to delicately stroke him in a very odd spot. It made him feel… strange… warm… aching… but it felt so … good. "How about this? Does this feel good?"
Severus whispered his shy agreement and the Headmaster laughed.
"You want this," the Headmaster insisted. "You flaunted yourself in front of me. Most boys hide their privates when I cane them, but you, being a dirty, little Slytherin whore, proudly showed off your bits. You should be delighted, you wanted me to notice you, and I have."
The Headmaster's weight was on top of him….pushing him into the mattress and… and…it hurt. His pleas for the Headmaster to stop were ignored, and…
Severus woke then, his heart pounding, and he was overwhelmed with an urge to vomit. To his surprise, someone was prepared for him to sickup, as there was a bin being shoved in front of him for his use. When even the dry heaves had stopped, and his stomach had stopped its rebellion, Severus realized that he was being supported by Albus,
"Here, take a sip," Albus placed a glass against his lips. "How is your arm?"
"What is it?" Severus protested, refusing to drink anything that Albus offered to him. The dream was too fresh… too raw for him to do otherwise. "My arm's fine. It doesn't hurt at all at the moment."
"Water, nothing more, nothing less. It's not…. Hot Chocolate…" That admission was whispered by a rather somber Albus.
Severus flinched, and pulled away from Albus. That quick movement caused Albus to wince, and the Headmaster bit back a curse.
"Please don't do that again," Albus softly requested. "My arm's paining for me some reason. I must have slept on it wrong."
For a wonder, the mercurial Headmaster's blue eyes were twinkling, as he was obviously quite amused by his quip.
I don't understand you, Headmaster.
"What are you doing here?" Severus softly questioned. "What time is it? How long have I been sleeping?"
"I was… sleeping… dozing really… when I… knew I had to get down here… I shared… your dream… I believe… I Floo'd here as Poppy wasn't here, but her assistant was. I just knew that it was necessary to wake you quickly, and I didn't have time to argue why I needed to do so." Albus then offered him the glass once more, and Severus carefully sipped from it, in order to gain his composure.
First things first, he couldn't think with Albus' right arm supporting him, especially not while Albus' hand was gently rubbing his shoulder in what Albus no doubt meant to be a comforting gesture.
"Don't you dare touch me," Severus spat, and the amused twinkle faded from Albus' eyes. No, instead his eyes turned somber.
Daft old bugger! I both crave and fear your touch! Can't you understand that?
"Let me prop you up first," Albus stated; his voice calm and unruffled in spite of Severus' outburst. Several pillows were placed just so and Severus was propped into a sitting position.
They sat in silence for a bit, Severus intent on drinking. His hand shook, and he cursed his clumsiness when he spilled it on himself. Albus produced a towel for him to blot himself dry, and he exchanged the glass for the towel.
"As you are well aware, I'm a bit of a prude," Albus quietly stated. "I also lack your experience in sexual matters. Compared to your worldliness in such matters, I am but an innocent child."
Severus attempted to find some place to hide, in order to avoid this strange turn in their conversation, but he was unable to locate a suitable hiding spot. Instead, he took back the nearly empty glass and began to focus on drinking.
"I firmly believe that love making should be an enjoyable experience for all involved. In my rather illogically optimistic opinion, carnal pleasure is a gift meant to be both given and shared. The very idea that someone could find it sexually arousing to cane a twelve year old boy long after his skin has been broken is abhorrent to me. To drug and then sexually molest a student when he's only able to weakly protest is the vilest of crimes. Severus, I swear to you, on any Oath you demand, that I have never done that."
Severus nodded his head once, deliberately not looking at the Headmaster and Albus gently placed two of his fingers on Severus' chin, forcing him to look at him.
"I recognize that my nightmare Headmaster wasn't you, Headmaster," Severus softly protested. "You'd never do such a thing, I know. It was just a very bad dream, nothing more. You were always very gentle with me… In fact, you were extremely considerate about my enjoyment."
His voice slowed, and he looked away from Albus. He couldn't stare in Albus' blue eyes, as he'd willingly drown in them.
"Who caned you when you were twelve years old, Severus?" Albus intently questioned. "They didn't use a rattan, did they? No, they used a metal pipe…."
"No one," Severus insisted. He was proud, that his voice was composed and steady. How the hell did Albus know about that? Memories threatened to break loose, of fearfully running away, being trapped by three older boys, struggling to breathe while cheap liquor was poured down his throat in order make him…pliable.
"Thinks he's all that and chips just 'cos he went to private boarding school in Scotland," said the oldest.
"I'm sure that they caned him because he's such a dirty skank… he must have the scars on his buttocks!"
He quickly drank the remainder of the water. "May I have more please, Headmaster?"
Once, in private, Severus had been comfortable enough to call the Headmaster by his first name. Now he using the correct honorific in order to push Albus into a firmly, recognizable role. Right now, in order to feel safe, Severus desired his boundaries to be clearly defined, and that damnable Albus….no… Headmaster was refusing to play by his rules! Wishing that the damnable, permutable Albus would firmly stay securely within the boundaries of the Headmaster box was futile. The Headmaster did whatever the hell he wanted. No doubt he thought it would be easier for Severus if he approached him as if they were friends and lovers.
But the two men had never been truly friends, only a superior and his inferior, a General and his foot solidier, and the only time they had been lovers had been a cock up of major proportions. Severus had the sprogged up belly and the sore man tits to back up his claim.
Don't listen to me; I love you, my little Slytherin-Griffindor Sprogling. I just can't handle dealing with your Dad right now. He means well, like most Griffindors do and he's being hopelessly noble and upstanding, but I need to be a true Slytherin to my very core… womb… and focus on your needs right now. You, me and your needs are important. Not Dad. He's got lots of mates to help him through this. You and I just have Auntie Min. In fact, I hereby give you permission to call her Auntie Minnie, as it will torque her to no end. But you will be such a cute little sprogling that she'll have no choice but to let you call her that.
Albus filled his glass once more, and he began to sip again.
"Your first summer vacation from Hogwarts…. It must have been then, as that was the summer you were twelve. That fall, you seemed… brittle, and Lily Evans was your only friend. You even turned away from your fellow Slytherins. I remember… asking you one day, Severus, if you needed to talk to me. For a moment, I thought you would confide in me, but then you told me that you'd talk to Horace. I spoke to Horace, asked him to keep an eye on you. Whenever I asked him, Horace assured me that he had, and you seemed… to bounce back. Mistakenly, I had chalked it up to adolescence angst."
Severus said not a word, and Albus remained quiet for a bit.
"I'm sorry, Severus, that appears to have been the first of my many failures with regards to you."
"You have never failed me, Headmaster," Severus insisted.
"I should have followed through. I thought you would be more comfortable talking to your House Head." The Headmaster's voice sounded sincere.
"As Headmaster of this school, you had far more pressing issues than one unhappy dirty, little Slytherin," Severus selflessly stated.
"No," the Headmaster protested. "I never saw you as dirty, Severus, and I'll never see you as soiled. You can attempt to assuage my guilt all you want, but I know that I did fail you, and nothing I can do will ever correct that mistake."
What could he say to that? Nothing. The Headmaster was far too busy a man to keep an eye out on one little bedraggled Slytherin, but he didn't want to upset the Headmaster by reminding him of that simple truth so he kept drinking small sips of water.
"Odd," Albus finally stated. "Isn't it odd not to have our very Fierce Minerva here, glaring daggers at me and not so quietly warning that she'll turn me into a frog if I misbehave?"
Severus bit back a laugh, and Albus smiled.
"Go ahead; you can laugh at me, Severus. I've known for years how much you hate my taste in clothes and that you particularly loathe my hat. I'm sure the very idea of a green frog ribbiting around Hogwarts wearing a hat with a tassel, attempting to escape from Minerva's animagus form or Mrs. Norris is rather amusing," easily admitted Albus. "She's quite vexed with how badly I've botched this situation. Anything I try to do to assist you in this matter ends up upsetting you. My proposed solution to this will no doubt put our dear Minerva in a catatonic state."
"Pray tell, Headmaster, what do you propose to make this all better?" Severus sniped. He clenched the glass tightly in his hand and struggled to keep himself calm and composed.
"You were dying when we rescued you. In order to keep you alive… it was necessary for me to make a snap decision, Severus… I… bonded you…." The Headmaster's voice slowed, and he seemed worried about the Slytherin's less than chuffed reaction to the news.
"You bonded me… you bonded me?" Severus' voice rose in consternation. "That's why you knew about the dreams? Isn't it custom to ask the one to be bonded first?"
"I only lightly bonded you, Severus. Just to give you enough life force to ensure that you stayed with us, rather than going beyond the Veil," Albus admitted. "When you're stronger, I can dissolve the bond, but the problem is you won't be getting stronger, Severus. In fact, you're growing weaker because…"
"The sprogling is weakening me," whispered Severus.
And I do it willingly for you, my little sprog.
"Yes, and it is unlikely that you will live long enough to ensure that the child will reach a viable stage. Therefore, I would post our banns in the Daily Prophet this upcoming week. After the required three postings, I would permanently bond you in a ceremony that is a private or as public as you desire. I just wish to invite Aberforth as he's my only living relative, and I hope you will agree to that. By permanently binding with you, I can easily give you the necessary magical energy to keep you and the child alive."
You damnable blood, noble, daft, old fool, that's exactly what the Dark Lord wants you to do!
"Think about it, Severus. I can support you, magically and financially during your pregnancy. I won't demand that you are sexually monogamous to me. In fact, in time, when and not if you've healed from this incident, if you wish to take a lover, I will make no protestations. I know that you are quite fond of Minerva and she truly has your best interests at heart. If you two decided to continue your affair, I would be extremely delighted to help promote and encourage your relationship in any manner that I could. You'll need a babysitter after all."
His heart lurched, and Severus' hard earned composure began to shatter.
Daddy knows about Auntie Min?
"You know… about Minerva?" Severus whispered.
The door to Severus' sickroom opened, and a tartan clad Minerva McGonagall stepped into the room. Her hair was barely restrained and she looked like a A Very Much Less Than Completely Chuffed Ancient Celt Warrioress from Days of Yore. Her green eyes were fiery, and Severus looked for an escape route. It would do the Sprogling no good to be turned into a tadpole while he and Albus merrily ribbited and leap frogged around the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.
"It's THREE in the MORNING on SUNDAY, ALBUS," Minerva growled. "Can you not leave Severus alone? Must you constantly badger him? Is it necessary for me to hex you into behaving?"