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Welkin in the Wizarding World (COMPLETED)	By : welkin_cooper Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 14600 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it. I don't benefit financially from the production or display of this work of fanfiction in any way.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter 11 - Snape's Valentine

Severus provides one of Welkin's many sexual fantasies, as a surprise Valentine's gift. He and Welkin have their first big fight, over an unexpected topic.

Snape glared at each new snogging couple they ran upon in their meanderings of the hallways and corridors, and in most cases, they sprang apart immediately, as if they had experienced a sudden electrical shock. For those who were too engrossed to notice the Potions Master, a well-placed rap on the back of the head of the boy did the trick.

"Can’t you just let them alone for today, Severus? It is Valentine’s Day, after all." Welkin tried to plead their case, her arms wrapped around one of his as they strolled.

"Hormonal little gits," Snape muttered.

Welkin sighed. There went her hopes for their first romantic Valentine’s Day together as husband and wife. Obviously the holiday meant nothing to him, if that was his dismal attitude. At least they would be having sex later, she consoled herself, which was more than most of those couples would be doing. Her eyes swept over Severus, his lanky body dressed in his long black robes, instead of his cloak and tunic. She realized that meant he was not wearing trousers today, simply his shorts underneath the robes, as was his custom. How convenient, she thought, smiling to herself. Maybe it wouldn’t have to wait until later, if she could find the right secluded alcove.

"Let’s go this way," she suggested, indicating one of the less lighted passageways. "I don’t believe I’ve seen this part of the castle yet."

"There is nothing of interest that way," Snape said. "It is not well frequented or kept, and is likely to be infested with vermin of some sort."

Except for the part about vermin, this was perfect, Welkin thought. "Just humor me. I’m curious." Welkin smiled at him.

Snape reluctantly relented, and they continued their stroll down the dark hallway, pausing to knock down the occasional cobweb, so that they could progress further. Welkin’s eyes darted here and there, looking for a likely trysting spot.

"If you have seen enough, I suggest we return the way we came," Snape said, just as Welkin found what she was looking for.

"Oh, look, here’s a bench," she said innocently, indicating the long, dusty stone slab directly across from a stained glass window, through which a modicum of light was streaming to illuminate it a bit. "Let’s sit down and rest a little, before we start back," she suggested.

What was she up to? Snape thought suspiciously. He drew his wand, and waved it at the bench to cleanse it of dust and debris, then sat next to her stiffly, on the cold slab. Never mind the cold, Welkin thought. This slab will be heating up soon enough.

"So…how are your students progressing so far this semester?" She engaged him in small talk.

Snape launched into a long diatribe of criticism directed at the assorted dunderheads he was expected to whip into shape. "You can whip me into shape, anytime," Welkin said, when he at last paused. She placed a hand on his upper thigh and squeezed.

A little surprised, although not completely, since he was familiar with Welkin’s whims, Snape met her level gaze. "Welkin, this is not an altogether optimum location," he observed, but made no move to remove her hand, which was inching its way closer to his crotch.

Welkin licked her lips. "Any location is optimum, if my pussy is wet, and your cock is hard," she insisted. "Let me see what you’ve got hidden for me under those robes, Professor. I want to suck that big cock of yours."

Welkin didn’t wait for an engraved invitation. She dropped to her knees in front of him, grasped the hem of his robes, raised it, and dived under, letting it fall again to cover her. Placing a hand on either side of his hips on the bench, to steady herself, she nuzzled his crotch with her face, feeling his cock growing stiff against her cheek through the silky, black shorts she’d bought for him. Placing her lips against his cock through the fabric, she kissed and nibbled her way up and down its impressive length. She heard Snape groan deeply, and call her name.

Drawing his rapidly stiffening cock through the flap of his shorts, Welkin slowly and delicately licked the head a few times. "What would you like your little cocksucker to do, Professor?" she asked, and flicked her tongue across the head again, feeling it twitch impatiently in her hand.

"Suck it, woman!" Snape insisted, placing one of his pale, long-fingered hands on the back of her head through his robes, and shoving her hard into his crotch. She smiled to herself, and clenched her thighs together rapidly several times, squeezing her pussy lips together pleasurably in the process.

"I want to feel dirty when I have your monster cock in my mouth, thrusting down my throat," she continued, this time with her own groan, as she nibbled at his balls through the shorts. "Am I your dirty girl, Professor? Am I?"

"Yes…yes…you’re my dirty little cocksucker! Now, suck it, bitch!"

That’s the spirit, Welkin thought, pleased at his rapid progress with the art of talking dirty during sex. She licked him liberally to lubricate, opened her mouth wide, and slid down on him as far as she could go, sucking hard as she came back up. She bobbed up and down on his thick, veined shaft, taking more of him until finally he was hitting the back of her throat, and she was gagging slightly each time she went down.

"Dirty little cocksucking bitch," Snape groaned hoarsely. "Take every inch of it," he ordered, forcing her head down until her lips and nose were buried in his musky, black pubic hair, and his cock was buried in her throat. She gagged harder, but didn’t stop. Welkin cupped his balls with her hand, and felt them tighten under her touch. He was close to exploding. "Fuck!" Snape cursed, the sound of it reverberating down the dark hallway. "Fuck it! Fuck!" He forced her head down until she hit bottom again, and exploded down her throat, shooting spasm after spasm of come, until she couldn’t swallow fast enough, and it began dripping down her chin. When his cock finally stopped twitching, and began to soften in her mouth, she pulled away, and licked him clean, savoring the taste of his slightly salty come.

Welkin emerged from beneath his robes, eyes shining brightly, with a smile on her face, his spunk decorating her chin. She leaned against him on the bench and, his arm around her, Snape took one long finger and gathered the rest of his semen from her face, holding it before her full lips. "Open wide, my eager little cocksucker," he ordered. She opened her mouth, and closed it over his finger, sucking and swirling her tongue over it, until she’d gotten it all.

"Do I get a passing grade, Professor?" Welkin asked, licking her lips.

"Class isn’t quite over," Snape told her. "I give you excellent marks on your oral exam, but the most difficult portion of the examination is yet to come. I am sure that it will…stretch your capacity to the limit," he smirked. "We must return to our chambers, wife, and continue your education immediately."

The smell of lilacs bombarded Welkin’s senses as Severus ushered her into their bedchamber. To her surprise, there were lighted candles everywhere, and multiple containers filled with lilacs, as well as a candlelit table with two place settings, and several round covered trays beside it, placed on black metal serving stands. A bottle of red wine was already open to breathe, in preparation of their arrival.

"Lilacs! Oh, Severus, they smell wonderful! You didn’t forget." Welkin looked ecstatic.

"They are your favorites, are they not?"

"Yes, but I thought you’d forgotten Valentine’s Day. Or didn’t care about it."

"I care very much about pleasing you," Snape assured her in his low British accent and cadence that never failed to make her feel a little weak in the knees. "Tonight, I shall fulfill your unspoken desires. But first, I ask that you freshen yourself in the loo." He indicated the bathroom to her. "I can smell your pussy, and while it is quite as pleasant to me as the lilacs are to you, I cannot guarantee that I can restrain myself through our meal, if you do not diminish the scent. It is far too arousing."

Welkin disappeared quickly into the bathroom, and reemerged minutes later, de-scented, hair and teeth brushed, and wearing yet another new nightgown. The nightgowns seemed to be multiplying, Snape noted. As quickly as he tore one, in his impatience to bed her, she acquired another. This one was red, presumably because it was Valentine’s Day, off the shoulder, with an empire-waist, long and flowing, as she seemed to prefer. Her nipples were on display, but not yet erect, Snape noticed. That would be remedied soon.

"We’d better eat fast, or I’m going to need another trip to the loo to freshen myself again," Welkin told him, as Snape held her chair and seated her. With a click of his fingers, the old-fashioned gramophone in the corner began playing a pre-loaded selection softly in the background.

Snape lifted the cover from the first tray, and Welkin arched an eyebrow as he prepared to serve her. "Really, Severus, oysters? What’s under the second tray? Spanish fly? Oysters aren’t really an aphrodisiac, you know," Welkin lectured him.

"They are, in the manner in which I prepare them," he informed her. "I have included a small tincture of a potion, which I believe will add to your pleasure this evening." He lifted an oyster from its shell with one of the small serving forks, and brought it to her lips. She opened her mouth obediently to show that she trusted him, and he placed it delicately on her tongue, where she held it.

"Swallow, Welkin. I know how much you like to," Snape teased with a smirk.

Welkin tried to say something with her mouth full, which sounded suspiciously like the word 'Jerk' to him.

She swallowed, and let the oyster slide down her throat. There was a tingling, hot aftertaste. Snape picked up his own oyster, and tilted his head back to swallow it from the shell. He fed her two more, and downed the remaining two, then poured them each a glass of wine.

Welkin’s whole body was tingling, and she felt flushed. Snape was staring at her chest with a pleased expression, as he took a sip of wine, causing her to look down to see what he found so fascinating. Her nipples were fully distended, forming pert little cones under her nightgown, as if they had been teased erect. She touched one curiously, and it felt like an electric shock of pleasure. "Oh!" she exclaimed involuntarily, drawing another pleased smirk from Snape. "Your potion?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "It heightens the physical senses severalfold. Is your pussy tingling, as well?" he inquired.

"Yes. I don’t think I’d better touch that though."

"No need. I’ll be touching it quite thoroughly soon. The effects of the potion will progressively weaken, and wear off by morning."

Welkin shivered at the thought of hours of heightened arousal. How much pleasure could one woman take? Apparently, she was going to find out.

Welkin sipped her wine, as Snape uncovered the second tray. There was a single bowl of soup, with two spoons. Welkin looked puzzled. "Mandrake soup," Snape said. "A very ancient aphrodisiac, with the efficacy to ensure potency." He failed to mention it was also reputed to enhance fertility.

"Oh, you certainly don’t need that, Severus. I’ve never met a more potent man in my life," Welkin protested.

"Humor me," he said, handing her a spoon, and repositioning his chair close to hers, so that they might more easily share the soup. His proximity increased the tingling between her legs, and she nearly knocked over the bowl, if he hadn’t caught it. "Nervous, my sweet?" he asked, obviously amused at her.

"Not in the least," she assured him, trying not to look worried. "Severus, what did you mean when you said you’re going to fulfill my unspoken desires?"

"It means that I have been in your mind, my pet, and I know what it is that you fantasize about. I know what you truly desire sexually. I am going to provide it, and provide it quite well, I assure you."

"But, those are just fantasies," she protested, wondering which of the many he must have seen in her mind that he had selected. "Oh, God, you haven’t arranged a gangbang, have you?" Welkin demanded, dropping her spoon on the table in her agitation.

Snape retrieved it for her. "Eat your soup," he ordered firmly. "No, I have not. I do not ever intend to share you with other men," he said emphatically. "That is a fantasy that will always remain a fantasy. Although, that was one of your more interesting scenarios to view. Six men?" He arched both eyebrows at her, a wicked glimmer in his dark eyes.

Welkin actually blushed, as she busied herself with spooning more soup into her mouth, as ordered. This was starting to get a little embarrassing. "Some things are meant to be private, even from you," she complained. "Can I have some more wine, please?"

"I do not think that will be necessary." Seeing that she was finished, and judging that the amount she had eaten would probably be sufficient, Snape picked up the bowl, and drained the rest of the soup into his mouth. He stood up to remove the cover from the third tray, and Welkin broke into a broad grin. Standing alone on the tray was a small bottle of Jagermeister, and two shotglasses.

Snape poured them each a shot from the ice-cold bottle. "Your aphrodisiac of choice," he told her, handing her one of the shotglasses. Their hands touched in the process, and Welkin’s nerve endings exploded again. They clinked glasses. "To pleasure…and surrender," Snape toasted, and downed his shot. Welkin downed hers. To pleasure and surrender? She pondered what that might mean. Pleasure and…oh, fuck! He’d chosen one of her submission fantasies. She was suddenly sure of it. You would choose one of those, you devious, dominating bastard. It was guaranteed to give him the most pleasure too, and what he desired most, no doubt, which was control over her, judging by the way he seemed to enjoy bossing her around, when he could get away with it.

"Do you require another?" he asked, offering to pour from the bottle again. "I think it is time to begin."

"Yes, I think I do," Welkin said nervously.

Severus was nude except for his black shorts, which somehow made him seem more intimidating to Welkin, than if he had been completely naked. Welkin appreciatively took in the sight of his tall, pale, thin but well-muscled body; broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, a sparse amount of dark chest hair over a mostly smooth chest, flat, well-toned stomach, and the trace of the Dark Mark brand on his inner left forearm.

The Dark Mark, Welkin had come to learn, was a magically induced brand which had been placed there when Severus was young, and had become involved in the Dark Arts to the point that he sought initiation into a group known as Death Eaters, who served someone Severus referred to only as the Dark Lord. He had not been forthcoming with many details, but the design of the mark - a death’s head skull with a snake entwined and descending from its mouth like a curved tail - indicated the nature of the group well enough. Severus’s Dark Mark was faded to a dark red scar, a sign that it was inactive. Active marks were black, like a tattoo. The Dark Mark was a sign of loyalty, and was used when the Dark Lord wished to summon them, in which case, the recipient of the mark would experience a burning sensation.

Death Eaters were hated and feared in the Wizarding World, and subject to imprisonment in a magical prison called Azkaban. Somehow, Severus had managed to escape that fate for whatever dark crimes he had committed, but again, would not tell Welkin exactly how.

Snape’s shoulder-length black hair was often described by others as falling in greasy curtains about his face, but Welkin had found it to be more fine, and naturally oily, than greasy. Her catering to it with more frequent shampooing had rendered it less oily, and silkier.

Snape’s rather large hooked nose, combined with his decidedly sarcastic and unsympathetic way of expressing himself, had combined to make him very few women’s first, or even last choice as a companion or lover. Welkin, on the other hand, favored big noses, and found the sarcasm amusing, as long as it wasn’t directed at her too often. If it was, she simply gave it right back to him. He seemed to respect that about her.

Welkin loved his mouth, though he rarely smiled, except in a quirk or a smirk, and certainly hardly ever showed his teeth, perhaps because they were so uneven. She could not picture him with his teeth straightened or unnaturally whitened, however. His physical imperfections were part of him, the way that she had come to love him, and she would not have changed them. At any rate, his breath was perfectly pleasant, and that was more important when they kissed. Snape’s lips were thin, yet sensually curved, and he was very, very good at kissing, and damn near perfect at eating pussy, though probably a bit too demanding for some, Welkin thought. Welkin, luckily, liked most things sexual a little, or a lot, rougher than the average woman - no candy-ass loving for her.

Which brought her silent critique to the part of her husband currently still covered, his prodigiously large cock. Like most British males, Severus was uncut, a relatively new experience for Welkin. It was not as visually or aesthetically pleasing to her as a circumcised cock, she admitted to herself, but Severus more than made up for that in his ten inch length and large girth. It was pleasantly scary even to see his cock dangling casually between his legs, along with those large and nearly hairless balls of his. It was as if he had been compensated for his less than stellar facial looks by a secret weapon, one that he wielded with devastating effects. Snape was proud of his cock, and his ability to use it, and Welkin thought he had every right to be proud.

Welkin unconsciously licked her lips as she was staring at him.

"Do you like what you see?" Snape asked her, aware that she had been assessing him.

"Yes. Yes I do. You know that I do." Welkin smiled, unable to maintain the gravity this scenario apparently called for.

"Then, I propose that turnabout is fair play. You will display yourself to me. Take off your nightgown," he demanded.

Welkin hurriedly pulled the shoulders down and shucked out of it, letting it drop to the floor. She stepped to the side, and kicked it away from her.

"Pick that up, and put it away properly. This is our bedchamber, not a pigsty," Snape scowled.

Welkin bent to pick it up. She folded it carefully, and walked over to the dresser to put it away in the bottom drawer. This wasn’t so bad, Welkin decided. It was sort of like playing naked 'Simon Says'. Correction - naked 'Severus Says'. She started to straighten up, but suddenly her hanging breasts were grasped from behind by her distended nipples, sending another erotic shock through her that made her cry out loudly. Snape’s fingers pinched her, and pulled down painfully. "Ow! That hurts!"

"If it hurts so much, why is your pussy wet again, slut?" Snape breathed into her ear. "I can smell it." He squeezed her tits hard and released them, dragging her over to the armchair by the bed. He forced her down, bent over one arm of the chair, her head pressed into the seat cushion, and her ass elevated. He pulled her legs apart roughly. "Stay that way," he warned. "I want to play with your pussy before I fuck it."

She felt his fingers touch her, probing at her pussy, and she exploded with sensation. "Oh, Je-zus!" She spread her legs wider, as he explored inside her briefly with his fingers, then his warm tongue, snaking it around inside her while he rolled her clit between his fingers. "God, help me!" she shouted, her pussy on fire. Suddenly, he was gone. She wriggled her ass in frustration, but stayed put. "Severus?"

"Do you want your pussy filled, slut?" Snape was back, leaning over her, hissing into her ear.

"Yes. Yes I do!" she agreed eagerly. Something long, smooth, and thick was thrust into her pussy, but it was too cold to be his cock. Snape began to work it in and out of her, keeping her head smashed into the chair cushion with one hand. Welkin grunted each time it went in.

"You like being fucked, don’t you?" Snape hissed. "It doesn’t matter what I ram up your cunt, does it?"

"No…no, it doesn’t," Welkin groaned. Her pussy was getting hotter, and tingling and spasming more by the second, from the potion she’d ingested, and from being fucked from behind by God knew what.

"I can’t get deep enough with this," Snape told her. Whatever it was, was pulled out, and Snape rammed himself home inside her. He began to fuck hard and deep, slamming into her with each stroke, his balls slapping against her round ass.

"Nice tight pussy," he muttered. "Take my cock, and come for me, you fucking cunt."

Welkin yowled like a cat in heat. His cock felt like it was splitting her apart, but she wanted more. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she screamed. With great difficulty, Snape forced himself to pull out, Welkin shrieking in protest. "Noooo…Fuck me! Don’t stop!"

He pushed her off the chair onto the floor, and tossed the leather dildo he’d used on her earlier onto her stomach. "Fuck yourself, slut. I want to watch," he rasped hoarsely. Desperate to come, Welkin grabbed the dildo and began to fuck herself with it, moaning and writhing on the floor as Snape watched, his eyes no more than slits. Dropping to his knees, he crawled to the side of her head, and began to smack his rigid cock against her lips and cheeks, breathing hard as he continued watching her fucking herself. "Fuck that tight pussy harder," he growled. "You can do better than that, you little cocksucker." He worked his cock with one hand, and reached out to tug at her nipples with the other.

"Watch me fuck myself, Severus. Please. I want you to," she moaned. Welkin arched her back off the floor and spread her legs wider to give him a better view, as she watched him working over his cock next to her face. She strained her head towards him, opened her mouth, and stuck out her tongue.

Avoiding her tongue, Snape pressed the head of his cock against her full lower lip, smearing it with his pre-cum. Welkin licked at it eagerly, and opened her mouth again.

Snape continued to pump his cock, but now moved his other hand to her clit as she fucked herself, fingering it expertly. "Oh, Jee-zus, yes!" Welkin began to come as Severus, timing his own orgasm, began to pump his come over her face, and into her open mouth. Welkin let out a long agonized wail as her orgasm rippled through her, seeming to go on and on.

When she finally regained her senses, she slowly pulled the dildo out of herself, and let it rest wetly on her stomach, as Snape smeared the last dibbles of his semen against her cheek.

"Sweet Welkin," he intoned softly, stroking her hair, as she stretched luxuriantly.

"Woo hoo!" she shouted, grinning and pumping her hands energetically in the air, as Severus watched her intently. "That was quite a Valentine, Sweetie. I feel like a hot mess. We always seem to end up on the floor, don’t we?" Welkin said to him in an exhilarated rush of words.

Severus rose from the floor, and pulled her up to join him. "Happy Valentine’s Day," he said, cupping her rounded ass as he kissed her, sending sparks through her again at his touch.

"Last one in the bathtub is a rotten egg," Welkin announced suddenly, as she pulled away and ran for the bathroom, with Severus in hot pursuit.

Welkin sat in the sudsy warmth of the bath, positioned between Snape’s legs, as he leaned over her shoulder, enjoying the sight of his hands lathering her breasts with soap. He cupped water in his hands, and poured it over her to rinse her. Her turgid nipples still ached to be touched, and she turned herself towards him, balancing on her knees, so that her breasts were aligned with his face. It was an obvious invitation, and Snape took it, suckling at first one pink nipple, then the other, his hands sliding on the slick, soft skin of her back, down to her buttocks, to squeeze and knead them roughly. Welkin entwined her fingers in his wet hair, as his explored the cleft between her butt cheeks, before one finger reached under and slid into her pussy, as his thumb penetrated into the tightness of her virgin ass. His mouth released her nipple, and Snape leaned back against the back of the tub, gazing at her. Welkin leaned into him to kiss his lips, sucking his lower lip between hers, eliciting a deep groan.

"What is your greatest desire, Severus?" she asked softly.

Not so long ago, before her, the answer would have been quite different. "You are," he answered her honestly. "You are my greatest, and only desire."

Welkin stretched against him and yawned, clad again in her red nightgown. Snape had donned the new soft, silver-grey nightshirt she had bought for him. She favored him in a nightshirt, just not one quite so severe looking as what he usually wore. This one, with its open vee-neck, looked a bit more casual.

After their marriage, Welkin had her Muggle bank account, and other quite respectable sum of assets, converted and combined with her husband’s. She now had her own discretionary spending money again, which she tended to spend on small luxuries for Severus, or for them both.

"Read me a story," Welkin requested, missing their afternoon ritual of him reading to her when they were at Spinner’s End. "I like the way your voice sounds."

Snape quirked a smile, pleased, and abandoning her briefly, went to the writing desk in the corner of the room, and retrieved her Christmas gift to him; a very early, well-preserved edition of tales by the American author Edgar Allan Poe. Before their wedding, he had read from it nightly, alone. He carefully removed the vellum sheet she had signed instead of the book, owing to its expense and rarity. "Merry Christmas, to Severus from Welkin -- thanks for all the hot Wizard sex -- December 1994," was written in Welkin’s free-flowing cursive, so unlike his own small, controlled, cramped handwriting. Added later, after his declaration of love to her, in slightly different ink, were the words "With All My Love, Forever and Always… " His fingers stroked across the words as if they were Welkin herself, before he returned to bed with the book, and Welkin snuggled against him again.

"Oh, I wondered where that had gotten to." She yawned again sleepily as he began reading, and she recognized the text. "Do you like Poe? I thought that you might. He reminds me of you in some ways."

"Yes, I believe that I do. He is quite an interesting ‘yarn spinner’ as you would say," Snape observed. Snape had less fiction in his personal collection than non-fiction, but this tome had a special place of honor among it.

"You should read his poetry," Welkin said. "He’s rather dark, but also ultra-romantic in some ways. That’s why he reminds me of you."

Snape considered this new image of himself as 'romantic' and decided that he found it tolerable, if not entirely realistic. Welkin tended to imbue him with virtues he did not always see in himself. It was part of her charm, and if it bound her to him more completely, he was not going to discourage any such image she might concoct.

"How else do you see me?" he asked with subtle, yet eager, curiosity.

"Mmmm…well…let’s see," she thought, her head against his shoulder. One of her hands slid into the neckline of his nightshirt, and she absently stroked the sparse dark hair on his chest as she pondered. "Brilliant and talented, that’s a given," she said.

"Obviously," he agreed immodestly, causing her to arch her eyebrow at him again.

"You’re very funny, when you choose to be," Welkin continued. "You’ve got a talent for analyzing people. You’re a bit too full of yourself at times, and you treat some of your students terribly. I wish you’d lighten up a little where they’re concerned. They’re just children. You can verbally rip new assholes into every adult you meet, as far as I’m concerned. If they can’t stand up to you, that’s their problem. But you shouldn’t do that to children. You can be firm without being mean, or unkind. Why do you have to be so mean?"

"Are we discussing Potter again?" Snape asked with disdain. The insolent little whelp intruded on his life too much as it was. Now, he was invading his bedchamber, and intruding on his marriage, by diminishing Welkin’s respect for him.

"Harry is the most egregious example, yes, but there are others." Welkin had stopped petting him, and sat up in bed, Snape noticed, with growing irritation. Welkin, unfortunately, failed to notice his irritation, and continued with her criticism. "Neville Longbottom is another. You treat that poor boy horribly, as if he didn’t have the sense that God gave a goose. When he’s one of the nicest, kindest…"

"Perhaps you would prefer one of them to share your bed," Snape said icily, glaring at her.

"Severus!" Welkin couldn’t believe what he’d just said to her. She looked at him in shocked astonishment, her mouth open. "They’re just boys! How could you even think that of me, much less say it to my face?"

"How could you take their part against me?" he retorted. "What am I supposed to think?"

"Certainly not that I’m a pedophile, who chases little boys," Welkin growled. She scurried away from him in the bed in disgust.

"They are not boys. They are young wizards. I have seen the way you talk to them, and cater to them - the way you threw yourself at Potter in the hallway the other day."

"I just hugged him, you jerk! He helped me with some things I was carrying, and I hugged him. You act like I leapt on him and dry humped his leg!"

"He’d like that," Snape growled back. "He’d like using you to humiliate me." He leaned towards her in the bed, the vein in his temple throbbing, showing how agitated he was getting. "You’d like to sample the virgin wares of the almighty Chosen One, wouldn’t you? Admit it!" he roared, now clearly furious, and obviously irrational.

"I do not want to fuck Harry Potter!" Welkin yelled back. "You are insane!" She leapt from the bed, grabbed her pillow and flung it full in his face. "I kissed Draco on the cheek too. Maybe I should just go round them all up, Harry, Neville, and Draco, and fulfill my gangbang fantasy," Welkin told him, adding fuel to the fire that was already raging. "I’d only need three more. No doubt, you’ve noticed that I’ve had my eye on the Weasley twins ever since I got here, and I’ll need a man with experience to direct the action. I’ll ask Lucius Malfoy to join us. I’m sure he’d be more than willing," she said, twisting the knife in his heart, wanting to hurt him as much as he was hurting her.

Welkin put on her slippers and robe and tied the sash, heading for the door, Snape stubbornly refusing to stop her.

"You wouldn’t dare," Snape told her, sounding too confident.

"Oh, wouldn’t I?" She walked out the door, slamming it behind her for emphasis. She expected him to come after her as she made her way through the antechamber, and the door leading to the staircase. When he didn’t, she hesitated.

Welkin wanted to go back, but if she did, it would be like admitting that Severus wasn’t completely and totally wrong, which he was. Anger, hurt, pride, and stubbornness kept her moving up the stairs without looking back.

Snape, in his long, dark dressing gown, paced back and forth in their bedchamber, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, and a look of annoyance on his face. Occasionally, he paused to contemplate whether he had, indeed, crossed the line with Welkin, one long finger unconsciously tracing the outline of his lips, as he always did when he was deep in thought.

Calmer now, he delayed going after Welkin, wanting her to stew in the uncertainty of whether he would or not. She would be waiting for him in the hallway, properly contrite, and ready to admit that she had been wrong to goad him and say those hurtful things to him. He was certain of that, wasn’t he?

After a reasonable number of minutes, he exited the bedchamber. She was not in the antechamber. She was not waiting at the foot of the stairs. She was gone, he realized with a sinking feeling.

"Lover’s quarrel?" Albus asked her, taking in her tear-stained face as he admitted Welkin to his office in the middle of the night.

Welkin nodded her head at him, her bottom lip trembling. "A big one." She had taken a chance that Dumbledore would still be up, because she did not want to be seen crying in the hallways. The Weasley twins would start taking bets again on how long their marriage would last, as they had done at the wedding reception.

Albus seated her, and without asking, poured them each a libation of brandy. She accepted her glass gratefully, and gulped half of it.

"What did he do?" Albus asked, assuming automatically that it must have been some misstep of Snape’s that caused this.

"We were talking about his students, and he suddenly accused me of wanting to fuck Harry Potter." Dumbledore had heard her say fuck before, so she did not mince words with him.

"Do you? Want to fuck Harry Potter, I mean?" Albus added.

"He’s just a boy! Of course not!" Did everybody around here think she wanted to fuck anything that moved? Welkin was on the verge of crying again, over the unfairness of it all.

"A pity. He’s rather a shy boy. It would probably do him a world of good if you did fuck him." Welkin looked shocked, until Albus winked at her, to let her know he was pulling her leg. "There is something that you should know about Harry, I think. Perhaps it will help explain Severus’s reaction to him, so that you might understand better. Harry is the son of James and Lily Potter," Albus said. Welkin looked blank. "Lily Potter," Albus repeated, "Whose maiden name was Evans."

"The Lily Evans? Harry is her son? Damn it! Why didn’t Severus tell me that?" Welkin exclaimed. Harry was the son of the man who Lily chose over him. She made the connection. "That explains some of it, though not all," Welkin added hastily. "He insinuated that I wanted to fuck half the male student body of Hogwarts." She gulped the rest of her drink. Albus politely refilled her glass.

"Really? None of the faculty?" Albus asked curiously, suspecting that, in her anger, she had exaggerated in her mind what Snape had actually said.

"No, but I’m sure he would have gotten around to them too, if I hadn’t left. He was out of his freakin’ gourd," Welkin sniffed, inelegantly wiping her nose on her sleeve before Dumbledore could offer her a handkerchief.

There was another knock on the door. "Enter," Dumbledore said.

The door opened and Snape stood framed in the doorway. "I am looking for…" He trailed off as he saw Welkin in the chair, with Dumbledore perched on the edge of his desk close to her.

"Severus, come in," Albus said smiling. "Welkin and I were just about to have sex. Would you like to join us?"

Welkin choked on her drink.

"That is not amusing," Snape scowled.

"Neither was what you said to me," Welkin snapped, refusing to look at him.

"Careful, Welkin. This is not a battle that is worth the fighting," Albus cautioned. "Are those flowers for me, Severus?" He turned his attention back to Snape. "How thoughtful."

Welkin turned to look, and saw the small bouquet of lilacs in Snape’s hand, carefully tied together with a purple satin ribbon. Snape noticed her tear-stained face as he offered them to Welkin stiffly. "I am…sorry that I accused you."

"You should be. But I think I understand now, and I guess I forgive you." She took the flowers and held them to her nose, inhaling their intoxicating fragrance, as they stared silently at one another.

"I think it’s time for this wizard to go to bed. Lock up please, Severus, when you are finished." With that, Dumbledore discreetly disappeared in a small flash of light, and some residual smoke, leaving them alone.

"I am an asshole for making you cry," Snape announced.

"And I don’t know when to shut up," Welkin admitted. "Oh, Severus! I love you!" She rushed to him, melting into his arms, and his firm, comfortingly familiar, demanding kiss.

"Ye gods," Dumbledore said to Fawkes, as he tucked himself in for the night. "Master Wizard, Headmaster of Hogwarts, leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Wizarding matchmaker, and now, marriage counselor to two of the most childish adults it has ever been my misfortune to play Cupid to."

Perched near him, in his nesting stand, Fawkes the phoenix gave an understanding and knowing squawk. "Yes, I know, Fawkes," Albus agreed, removing his half-moon glasses and placing them on the nightstand, as he eased himself into bed. "I completely agree. They are perfect for each other, aren't they? Happy Valentine’s Day, my old friend." The ancient wizard rolled onto his back, and was soon asleep, snoring peacefully.
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Welkin in the Wizarding World (COMPLETED)

Chapter 11 - Snape's Valentine