Yay! another one after all that jazz
To my new readers a big Welcome!
To my regular ones, Thank you for the continuous support even if the said 'writer' is currently in a room whose walls scream distraction.
Regular disclaimers apply
Growing up as the butt of jokes, it is not surprising that Severus Snape is not a fun person. In fact, if there is a picture to represent a person who views anything remotely labeled as fun to be incorrigibly horrendous and reserved only for imbeciles and their cronies -his own words, he will be sure to volunteer as a model; after a great deal of Slytherin cunning of course
So as his alter ego, Sebastian Prince is subjected to the torment of being the misery aunt of the whole school for the sake of fun, merlins sake not even for winning; it is not without warning that he took the job miserly especially since everyone seems to develop the superpower of asking stupendous questions this past week.
"H-how do I win in a muggle fight?" Stuttered the third year, pimple faced Hupplepuff. Apparently, the lad was in a losing battle for the love of his intended witch with a muggle and somehow placed it in his head that winning in a street tussle would endear him to the said witch. One must think that the beaver has friends to ask that with all the house of the loyal rubbish they spout in the sorting ceremony.
"Take out his heart... with a spoon," Sebastian drawled in a monotone. Truth be told, he was bored beyond measure. This had been the twentieth time someone asked about the matters of the heart and considering that this is his 23rd one today, not to mention the other ones; he could only assume that Hogwarts is indeed the school of hopeless witch and wizards a proof that magic cannot solve everything.
"A spoon?" the 'client' asks aghast and wide-eyed as if he had just issued the death of the whole muggle population. It almost made him laugh that it was not the taking out the heart part that caused the boy to react but the weapon to be used and laugh he would have; had he been in a better mood which he is definitely not as of the moment.
"It's blunt you nitwit it will hurt more"
"But-but that's too violent"
"You presume you can win in a fistfight with hugs and rainbows? Maybe throw in some dancing unicorns to boot?" he asks sarcastically raising a brow to unparalleled heights. Merlins, how idiotic could these students be?
The boy gave a slight nod but gulped when he was rewarded with a look that screams 'prove to me how big of an idiot you are'. Good; let that instill some fear in the hearts of those who would waste his time with such trivial matters
"Not my problem," He said with an air of finality; settling on a more comfortable pose in his transfigured couch
"How about a-a weapon like a k-knife?" The boy asked hopefully; probably thinks the sight of a small blade is enough to scare street thugs. Dream on boy you will not win but just end up being a convenient target.
"Mr. Sterling… The idea of a knife fight is you stick it in your opponent, dig it hard before he does then hope that the bloke does not get up. Otherwise, repeat." He said massaging his temple "Do be reminded that it is not advisable to be done in polite company"
"Ten sickles next!" He shouted dismissively before the boy digs his own grave pointing to the carved metal box in the corner spelled to place the proceeds in their bookkeeper's log
"Prince" The younger Malfoy greeted bumping on the other boy who ran out with trembling lips.
Sebastian's eyes were closed but he could picture his godson looking around to the empty classroom that was decorated to look like a school councilor's office- Hermione's words as she did all the flourishes droning something about a relaxing atmosphere or such but personally he thinks it looks like the muggle quack's office that he entered when a concerned citizen decided to take action on his dissociative behavior; not that he'd tell her that.
"Unless you plan to actually get some crumbs of my so called wisdom Mister Malfoy do let me be" he answered massaging a throbbing temple. No wonder muggles pay their psychologists a hefty sum. The students are draining his ironclad will, inner strength and practiced discipline to the point of breaking; a feat even the dark lord himself could not do on his own.
"I did not come here to gloat, I just think you should be notified that we will win this time" The boy warned casting a few cleaning spells and a cushioning charm before sitting on the transfigured couch as if he owned the place. Only a Malfoy can insinuate the dinginess of an area while acting like he owned the place
"Yes I see you have organized an... auction" Sebastian smirked "Though I know for sure these... wares could be roaming the halls right now and I am talking to one this very moment" He purred in his silky voice no louder than a whisper
"How?" The blonde asked incredulously
"It does not take a genius Malfoy." He replied indifferently looking at his uninteresting fingernails before closing in on his prey "Tell me... how many collars does a dog chew a day to necessitate buying three dozen in assorted colors, cut and design?" He hummed triumphantly "You would think a Slytherin would try to hide such purchases" he sneered before easing back on his chair "I would have had their collars hidden under wraps, scarves, or glamor at least three days before the presentation to allow themselves time to get used to it. Salazar's snake they look ill at ease and scratch their neck like mangy mutts at the bidding"
The boy did not reply but he knew the message was clearly understood
"Five galleons for the trouble Malfoy nice doing business with you" He concluded pointing to the general direction of the cursed box and called the next client. The boy silently stood and placed a pouch in the box before getting out.
"How did you know?" Miss Granger asked sitting across him as they closed down the 'booth' for the last time. The winner will be announced before the weekend to allow for some preparation
"Elementary dear" He smirked while cleaning up some baubles and placing it back into a box for storage.
"But that's against the rules. I'm sure Umbridge will be reporting it to the ministry" She protested. Surely the high inquisitor would like to throw dirt on Hogwarts as soon as possible she thought while casting finite incantatem on the spelled walls returning it into its drab gray color
"Don't bother. If Malfoy and the potions master are up for bidding, then even she will join." He pointed out to the witch and let the topic drop much to her chagrin
He knew she wanted more answers and basked in being able to decline to answer them at his convenience as his standing no longer requires it.
It was now time. In half an hour the event his snakes had organized will be revealed to the whole school lay low and shock them was what he always told them and he will watch the shocked expression of Minerva and Pomona. Filius will of course clap and cheer in the background unseen. If this pans out perfectly then congratulations are in order.
Of course, he was given a pass by the ringleader himself hidden in the lining of the pouch as if it could hide the additional charmed material underneath or maybe that was the point. His own godson believes was has no Slytherin but then the boy did not know him.
Black silk with silver trimmings spelled to not unravel unless taken off by the wearer covered the upper part of his face as he entered the dungeons the whole west part of which is reserved for the event. In such an event as this that they are allowed to show off; his snakes never failed to meet his expectations and mostly surpassed it.
He was ushered to a hidden door after entering the main area decorated as one would a formal auction house. A stage in the front covered by closed velvet curtains and heavy cherry wood seats padded in Slytherin green arranged in orderly rows along with strategically placed torches gave off a rich atmosphere that was already starting to fill up with members of the student body some of which might have come from the other houses.
The other room he was led to was also ornately decorated probably one of the private biddings he modeled after the death eaters where there was a party at the ballroom for the outer circle and possible members while there is also a private parlor reserved for the favored inner circle.
"Petrificus totalum" he was wheeled towards a curtained area where he was met by the ringleader himself
"Now you have a choice. You either join them on stage or you-"
"Extortion, Mr. Malfoy? How... Slytherin" he said giving a mental slap in the back to his godson for his pathetic attempt at cunning while freeing his body from the spell that was, fortunately, quite easy due to the inexperience of the caster "Unfortunately, I have to decline as I have other more interesting engagement tonight and tomorrow"
He rubbed his wrists to regain circulation maybe he could make it into what the muggles call a win-win situation letting him see how the Slytherin prince leads unsupervised while also teaching the boy to have some subtlety
"Please" the boy whispered trying another tactic with practiced puppy eyes figuring that pleading works with Gryffindors and some Slytherins too since it worked for his mother
"Look can't we have a deal or are you afraid that no one will bid on you?" The young Malfoy said when it didn't work
"What can you offer that I want?"
"Access to the Malfoy library. I have heard you talking with that mud- Granger in the library about your personal research"
"And what do you know about my research?" He asked testily
"Enough to know you will benefit from my offer"
He knew the boy was right of course but access to the famous Malfoy library is scarce. One can only use the excuse of research for the dark lord before so many times before becoming suspicious but as one wise man once said, do not assume unless otherwise stated do not assume unless otherwise stated. By the time they shook hands, he secured Unrestricted, Unlimited access to be delivered via owl and he was in for a week of servitude
The stage light blinded him as he entered clad in a Charcoal frock coat lined with a row of buttons, not unlike his potions master coat paired with a green cravat laced in silver. How his godson found him a costume that actually fits is a mystery and thinking that someone ruffled through his things or watched him that closely caused a slight chill in his back. No, he would not think about that.
"The bid starts at two galleons" the auctioneer announced as if talking about cattle.
He tuned out the inane chatter and tried looking at the audience but the burning light pointed at his eyes only allowed him to see faint silhouettes
"We have here a strong and healthy worker for a week" Shouted the peddler for a week as if talking about a horse. Well if running around to get things is what he will be that would at least need little brain trauma. Chatter… chatter… mumble… chatter
"Your very own personal potion brewer" Well the brewing is no brainer and would actually be somewhat of a relaxing holiday for him
"Twenty galleons," A voice said in his left
"Twenty-two" Countered another
"A good researcher and clever escort" Well, the parties do not happen every day so it's not a convincing rapport. Chatter… chatter… mumble… chatter
"50 galleons," another said in his right
"60"
"65 galleons"
"Good pureblood breeding from a prominent family" Only two voices are fighting now. Let the other one win please he chanted internally better an idiot chit than a perverted old coot
"80 galleons and 10 sickles" The younger voice declared
"80 galleons and 10 sickles going once, going twice, SOLD" The auctioneer announced with a bang of the gavel
His body was moving in autopilot as he followed his new 'master'. He was won by the mysterious bidder who opted to a private contract instead of the general one they provide at the event. He almost fainted when he read the one created for him Godric's gun there was no clothing restriction nor slave rights on those which simply means he may as well be running around the castle naked for a week or Merlin knows what. Draco had outdone himself this time.
As the door closed followed by a series of closing charms, his apprehensions also drowned him. What would someone want in an empty, locked room besides… His eyes widened and looked around the room in impulse seeking out possible exits and weapons. There was a window he could use if he was not hindered from drawing wand. There are torches that can bash a skull if necessary or he could just set it all on fire and hope for the best.
His master did not look too strong but appearances could be deceiving and he was technically a slave so it probably was for the best to play along and attack at the right opportunity.
Right now, how was he to please? Hell, he had never been in any similar situation that involved pleasure and the female species unless it was directed to him. Well, that is not entirely true if you count Bellatrix as one which he doesn't. It was all too easy and predictable with the mad witch; a kiss here, choke there, some harsh groping, and you're ready to stick it in. Add some bruises and bumps there and some crucio and you're done. That witch was the dark lord's bitch for a reason.
But this girl, nay woman or was it? He did not know and if his suspicions are correct, then he would officially be a pedophile. Would it count as rape if she technically paid for it?
He was removed from his musings as the witch turned around and removed her mask revealing his master at least for the week or whenever the bidder wanted to claim.
"Miss Granger of course who was I expecting" he mocked letting a small sigh of relief "at least it will not be an old hag with the gingerbread house or God heavens one of that floozy or worse a perverted male who preys upon the delicate souls of the young"
"Shut up prince that stunt cost more than your share! YOU OWE ME" she stomped angrily at how ungrateful he can be after she spent a good deal of her savings to save him from himself.
"Now let's not be hasty. I did not tell you to bid you did it on your own"
"They're slitherin what are you talking about? They are all the same and will do evil things at the first opportunity"
"Let it not be said that you are not prejudiced" He replied icily at her unfeeling and biased remarks "Now will you enjoy what you paid for or will I leave you to gathering your wits"
"I will enjoy wringing your neck until-"
He conjured a white handkerchief a split second before he coughed and felt warm fluid dribbling from his lips. He knew what it was but felt the human instinct to check. A clotted mass laid in his handkerchief marring it with the scarlet almost black color
He knew the symptoms but not the cure
He knew it will happen eventually but not this early
He did not expect his body is this weak but then, he did not expect to fail
"Do continue describing my demise Miss Granger" He smirked facing her and banishing the cloth behind him.