Squires of Slytherin

BY : DuisterNacht
Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes
Dragon prints: 50841
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from these writings/

Squires of Slytherin - Beginnings

The Slytherin Common Room was dim and dark, lighted only by the flickering fireplace, though the figure standing directly in front of it muted the light emanating from it.
Professor Severus Snape carefully laid his weighty glance on the new batch of Slytherins. Some were not surprising, even expected, such as the Malfoy boy and the two great lumps, Crabbe and Goyle. The pug-faced Parkinson had also been a guarantee, though his normally keen predictions misjudged the placement of the Greenglass girl; he had expected her to be Sorted into Ravenclaw, though all Greenglasses had gone into either Slytherin or Ravenclaw.

There was one, however, who had him stumped. Severus Snape hated confusion. He hated being mistaken. The two together was untenable.

His gaze stopped on a small figure, head bowed and fingers twisting nervously in a lap. Snape’s face did not betray his inherent disdain, though his mouth desired to form its habitual sneer.

With his parents, how did that blasted boy manage to finagle himself into Slytherin?

It had shocked all of the professors. McGonagall had gone white and nearly dropped the scroll of names. Flitwick squeaked and nearly fell out of his chair. Hagrid choked on his own spittle and nearly asphyxiated. Dumbledore lost his customary twinkle and Snape could see his hands clench the arms of his chair, knuckles turning white.

The boy seemed not to notice the sudden silence in the Great Hall, but carefully, with barely shaking hands, removed the Sorting Hat and placed it on the seat before walking calming to the Slytherin table.

His House, harboring the spawn of Potter.

It was unthinkable.

The head with tousled black hair suddenly looked up and caught Snape’s gaze. The boy shuddered slightly at the coldness and glanced away quickly. Snape smirked. At least the boy had a sense of self-preservation.

Six figures filing into the room behind the group of new Slytherins caught his attention. They stood silently behind the stone table as the First Years sat timidly, in the case of Potter, arrogantly, as did Malfoy and Zabini, or rigidly, as the dullards Crabbe and Goyle. The rest of the additions fell somewhere in between, but all of them glanced behind at the older students.

Snape, in front of the large fireplace, looked a dark and imposing figure to the young children. He waited a few minutes more, as the entire room stilled with baited breath. Even the First Years, who had no inkling of knowledge about the proceedings, felt the heavy weight of anticipation.

Finally, Snape spoke.

“As most of you know, I am your Head of House, Professor Snape. You have all been Sorted into the prestigious House of Slytherin,” here he paused and sneered, “if any of this is new to you, you should report to the infirmary immediately to get your head examined. We do not coddle dunderheads, and we do not reward incompetence, but those of you who are made of true Slytherin character will stick together against the myriad of forces laid against you. While normally I am somewhat confident, this particular year,” his eyes rested on that black head, “I am more uncertain.” The boy felt his gaze and curled even more into himself. Pathetic.

“Regardless,” he continued, “we do have some of auspicious quality.” He cut his eyes towards Malfoy, who smirked slightly.

“If you have needs or questions, direct them towards the prefects first, who will decide if your concerns are indeed dire enough to warrant my attentions. Otherwise, I am not to be disturbed unless it is of vital importance. I do hate handing out detentions to my snakes.

“And now we come to our last formality. Here in Slytherin, we have a unique position granted to one person of each class.” He nodded slightly to the six figures in back, which moved to flank him, three on each side. All but one were male, and the oldest held a staff with a carved snake head that seemed to move slightly in the flickering firelight, eyes glinting oddly. They all scanned the First Years thoroughly and confidently.

“The founder of our House, Salazar Slytherin, entrusted a cadre of students with a specific duty, and he called them the Squires of Slytherin. They were the students who most embodied his favorite characteristics. Ambitious, cunning, and unafraid to strike at the most advantageous time, much like our House icon, the serpent.

“These Squires had a single, simple duty, and because of this they always without fail rose to the top of the internal hierarchy. They kept the desires of the Slytherin House satiated.” The First Years looked nervously at one another, uncertain and concerned about the meaning. “In all ways they did so, as emotional and mental bastions of safety, for even independent Slytherins need an unjudgemental ear on occasion, but their main duty was to satiate all sexual needs.” The captive audience gasped uniformly, even the Malfoy boy. No Slytherin would dare break this secret, even to his children. A few even muttered amongst themselves.

“This does not mean,” he said sharply, “this does not mean that the Squires act as tools, with their purpose being only to act as unthinking and unfeeling receptacles. No, they also served to make true Slytherins out of the rest of the House, for to gain the services of a Squire, you must strike a mutual agreement. The nature of the contract is inconsequential, so long as both parties agree. And,” he added with vitriol, “the punishment for forcing or abusing a Squire is immediate expulsion, regardless of the party. So you had better ensure that there is verbal agreement.”

Faces who had gone white with shock dumbly nodded their heads.

“These are the Squires.” He spread his hands slightly. “As you can tell, it is not limited to one gender or another. You will learn their names in time, though I will advise that you take care when you approach one of the older Squires, unless you have something very good indeed to offer. They do not like to waste their precious time.

“Mr. Rangley, the staff.”

The oldest Squire silently passed the black staff to Snape, who caressed the silver head of the metal serpent.

“This is the Staff of Slytherin, passed down from Head to Head, used to detect the one First Year most suitable to arise to the position of Squire.” He stepped forward to the table. “Hold out your wand arm,” he instructed.

The first child, Tracey Davis if his memory was correct, which it always was, held out a trembling hand. The snake flicked its tongue and in the middle of the palm, a drop of blood appeared and was absorbed in another flick of the tongue. The eyes glowed emerald briefly, then returned back to the original silver. Snape glided on.

When he reached Malfoy, the boy arrogantly thrust out his palm and showed no signs of pain when his skin was penetrated.

When Snape stood in front of Potter, the nearly-cowering child was sluggish in extending a hand.

“Mr. Potter, your hand.” The boy was silent and motionless. Snape snarled, “Mr. Potter, as much as I was surprised at your Sorting, you either bewitched the Sorting Hat into believing you had an ounce of Slytherin in you, in which case you have no chance of being selected as Squire, or you have hidden undetectable depths, in which case you might perhaps belong here and thus must be tested as all the others.”

The small hand shot out, though his eyes never left the ground.

With the testing completed, Snape returned to his place in front of the fireplace, the staff in two hands and facing the First Years. The room was silent but for the crackling of the fire, and all eyes remained riveted to the silver serpent head, which had closed its eyes after the last blood sample.

The eyes opened, pure emerald. Everyone held their breath. Snape slowly let go of the staff, and it remained straight and unwavering before him. It rotated under its own power, from one side of the group to the other, as if studying the potentials.

Perhaps it was.

The snake head stopped in the middle of a turn, facing a slight figure, and opened its mouth wide, baring sharp fangs. An eerie green light shown from the mouth, lighting upon the figure. A strangled sound escaped the Professor.

Harry Potter was the newest Squire of Slytherin.

Impossible. The spawn of Potter and Evans, two of the most proud and bold, Gryffindors to their very core, had produced a child Slytherin enough to be a Squire.

Snape wanted to rage. There was nothing he desired more than to pace and shout that the boy had Confounded the staff, that he was an errant fraud, but he knew that the choosing process could not be manipulated in any way. Professor Severus Snape was forced to admit to himself that he had misjudged the boy.

Professor Snape hated being wrong most of all.

He came to himself just in time to catch the Staff smoothly, which had returned to its normal state after illuminating the bo- Potter. He spoke before the rest of the First Years had a chance to interject, especially Draco Malfoy, who looked furious and spiteful.

“So you do have hidden depths, Mr. Potter,” Snape drawled, though considerably more gentle than his first address to the boy. “Everyone but Mr. Potter is to leave this room and go into their dormitories. Curfew is at 10 o’clock and it is 9:30. Go now.”

The room cleared out quickly, leaving only the small shivering boy and the Squires.

“I’m sure you have questions. Ask Mr. Rangley,” he informed Potter. “I shall be in my office, Mr. Rangley, you may bring Potter when he is ready. The rest of you are unneeded for tonight,” he said to the rest of the Squires, who nodded and filed out silently, gently clapping the pale boy on the back, or tousling his hair in the case of the lone female. Snape nodded to himself sharply, then swept out of the room, Staff in hand.

Corvin Rangley gave Harry Potter a wry smile. “A mite intimidating, eh?” Harry nodded shyly. “Don’t you worry, that’s a show he puts on. He has not exactly a heart of gold, but,” he shrugged, “he’s more approachable than he wants us to think. The Professor doesn’t like to be bothered. Anyway, I’m sure you have questions?”

“Well, I’ve never, I mean, I don’t know…”

Rangley nodded in understanding. “Quite alright, I didn’t either when I was selected my First Year. Scared the piss out of me, to tell you the truth, but it’s not nearly as bad as you’re thinking. I was muggleborn, had no idea about magic, let alone how to deal with what seemed to be a brothel in my home away from home!”

Harry nodded shyly again, then spoke, “I don’t think he likes me, and I’m too young-”

“That is where you are wrong,” Rangley said kindly. “The Wizarding world is well different from the muggle, it isn’t appropriate for relations such as these, but it isn’t illegal, either. You won’t see it happen any other place than here, I can assure you of that. Though to tell you the truth,” he leaned close to Harry and whispered conspiratorially, “I pity the rest, the non-Squires. It’s a better world here.” He leaned back and grinned. “Oh, the secrets I know, the favors I have accrued.” He tapped the side of his nose. “Why do you think that Squires tend to be successful? Because the Ravenclaws have one thing right, knowledge is power, though we deal more in secrets than book learning.”

“But, what about Professor Snape…”

“The Professor will lighten up with you, I promise. You are right, he was put off by you at first, but he’s a fair man, he’ll see that so long as you do your best, you belong.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Alright, I will. I mean, I don’t have a choice, do I? Slytherin is my home, now. I guess I’ll have to be the best Slytherin I can be.”

“That’s the ticket!” Rangley clapped Harry on the shoulder. “It’s a bit overwhelming at first, but you’ll learn to enjoy it, enjoy everything.”

“So, what’s next?”

Rangley studied the boy. He had better color than he had just minutes ago, and was slowly straightening into a normal position that did not hint of cowering subservience.

“Now, you have to be… initiated.”

Harry looked at him with wide eyes.

Rangley hesitated, then decided that the best course of action was a Gryffindor one. Potter seemed to lack Slytherin subtlety at this time, though perhaps he had buried potential. “Now, we go back to Professor Snape’s office, where he and I will introduce you to your new duties. You will learn the beginnings of the art of fellatio with me, and the Professor will, take you for the first time.”

Harry stuttered, “f-fe-fellatio? Take me?”

Rangley sighed. “Oral sex, Harry, you will perform that on me, then the Professor will penetrate you. It’s a rite of initiation, all new Squires have to go through it with the senior Squire and the Head of House.”

He sighed again as Harry soundlessly opened and closed his mouth, shaking his head violently.
“Harry, get a hold of yourself, you’re a Slytherin, act like one.”

Harry made a visible effort to calm himself before asking timidly, “Do I have to do it tonight, at least?”

“I’m afraid so. It’s tradition; every night from now on will be lessons so you can fulfill your duties to the House, though tomorrow you do get a respite as an adjustment period.”

Harry said in a small voice, “but I’ve never even been kissed…”

Rangley smiled. “Is that all? That’s easily fixed.” He drew closer to Harry, moving slowly so that the boy would have time to reject, but Potter just stared back with wide eyes, mouth slightly opened. Rangley positioned himself on the chair next to Harry, then slowly held out his arms, hands reaching for Harry’s face. He felt the boy’s rapid breaths on his arms as he cradled the boy’s head in his palms. Rangley leaned in slowly and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.


He drew away to study Harry’s face and found his eyes closed. A small pink tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and Rangley felt a pang in his groin. For the first time tonight, he felt physical attraction towards the small boy. He leaned in again and placed a slightly harder kiss to the boy’s lips, his own tongue darting out and tracing the closed lips.

Harry gasped, his lips opened, allowing Rangley access to his mouth. He explored it slowly and carefully, gently touching the boy’s tongue before he felt the younger Slytherin begin to respond as he flicked his own tongue into Rangley’s mouth. Rangley groaned in desire, pushing himself harder onto the boy, one hand sliding behind his head and the other reaching down his side. Harry sighed softly.

He gently pulled away from Harry, lips pink and swollen. Harry’s eyes were lidded, lust apparent in his blank gaze. Rangley smiled. “How was that for a first kiss?” he whispered.

Harry blinked and then pulled away, though he was smiling shyly. “Thank you,” he whispered back. “I feel braver now, more ready.”

Rangely nodded in approval, then drew the small boy up with him as he stood. “Are you prepared now?”

Harry took a deep breath. “As ready as I will ever be.”

Rangley slid his hand into Harry’s to lead him from the room.

“One question.”

Rangley stopped and turned to the boy, “what is that?”

“What is your name?” Harry’s eyes were intent.

Rangley chuckled. “Corvin, I am Corvin Rangley, pleased to make your acquaintance.” He sketched a half-bow, surprising Harry into laughing as well.

“Aren’t we supposed to exchange names before we do anything like that?” Harry asked innocently. “I think we have this backwards.”

Rangley chuckled again. For the first time, the shy boy showed some wit. “I supposed so, Harry, but that is a part of my charm.” He flipped his dark hair back and out of his eyes, preening. “No one can resist.”

Rangley waved his wand at the fire, banking it. The two Slytherins exited through the stone wall entrance, hand in hand and snickering.

The Common Room was dim and dark.

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