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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
- 28
- 29
- 30
Chapter 29 - Yule Ball Redux 1995

Welkin sings at the Yule Ball, to mixed reviews, and offers Narcissa Malfoy some advice about handling Lucius and his wandering eye. Snape takes the lead to add to their mutual quest for interesting trysting spots at Hogwarts.

"I don’t remember this shindig being this boring last year, do you?" Welkin asked Snape. She casually sipped her champagne while glancing about the room, then set down her glass and leaned back against the bar, stretching her arms along the front of it.

"The Yule Ball is just as exciting for some of the men this year, I am sure, since your so-called dress lacks both a back, and the entirety of the bottom half," Snape observed with annoyance, taking another drink of his whisky.

"Oh, dear God, please don’t start that again, Severus," Welkin groaned. She took her arms off the bar and slid next to her routinely disgruntled husband. It wasn’t that she minded Snape’s jealousy and possessiveness all of the time. It was quite flattering sometimes - until he took it to extremes.

"Must be awfully difficult to drink that whisky through gritted teeth," she said, trying to tease him out of his bad mood.

Snape glanced sideways at her and took in the sight of her bare legs, exposed almost up to the crotch by the short skirt of her pewter silver- toned dress with long, flared, sheer black sleeves. Welkin’s narrow feet were encased by ankle-length, slightly pointy-toed black boots with short silver and black metallic heels. The fold-down tops of the boots were studded with hematites, the same material as her earrings. Like last year, the neckline of the figure-skimming dress was modestly dipped in front, but daringly bare in the back. The only element of bright color which Welkin had added was a large, green gemstone snake pin worn to the right of her neckline, and Snape’s snake bracelet around her left wrist.

"I didn’t wear this outfit to attract other men, and you know it," Welkin repeated for the second time since they’d arrived. "I wore it because Professor Flitwick asked me to sing tonight, and it fits my song selections. He’s gone to a lot of trouble to arrange for the Muggle music I asked for, and I don’t want to let him down. You should think of this as more of a costume than a dress. Besides, this party could use a little livening up, if you ask me. The students are practically falling asleep on their feet, now that the other band went on break."

"I do not fathom a reason why your song selections could possibly require you to dress so revealingly," Snape grumbled. "We were not married last year when we attended the Yule Ball and you wore your backless dress. This year, we are married, and you are the mother of my child. You should dress accordingly."

"I don’t see the logic in that argument at all," Welkin told him, putting one arm around him to rub her hand against the small of his back soothingly.

"Other men will not be contemplating your tenuous grasp of logic when they are viewing you in that outfit tonight," Snape sniped at her, still looking sullen and unhappy. It wasn't that he mistrusted Welkin. It was more that he mistrusted other men and their motives where she was concerned.

"Most men don't even like me that much, Severus, much less lust after me. That's a figment of your imagination. Most men prefer somebody a little more subdued and...delicate. The kind that would rather die than let one vulgar word escape their ladylike lips, or heaven forbid, a fart or a belch ever erupt from their pristine, overly sanitized and descented bodies. I scare the shit out of most men, to be honest. You don’t have any problem with me dressing revealingly when it suits you," she pointed out. "Those nightgowns you’ve been buying me lately have been getting shorter and shorter - and so sheer I might as well be naked most of the time. They leave very little to the imagination - not to mention the multiple pairs of crotchless silk panties you came back from Hogsmeade with today. I didn’t even know that they had those in Hogsmeade! You certainly have gotten over your embarrassment of purchasing lingerie for me!"

"Those knickers are very…practical and efficient," Snape told her, attempting to justify his purchase of so many of them for her in a rainbow of colors. "You are always complaining to me that I rip too many of your undergarments in my desire to bed you. The convenient and accessible openings may prevent some of that," he reasoned.

Welkin grinned at his self-serving description of crotchless panties as 'practical'. He was so cute when he was pompously trying to defend one of his own illogical viewpoints, she thought fondly.

"Besides, that is entirely a different circumstance," Snape continued with exaggerated dignity. "You are wearing those things for me, in the privacy of our bedchamber. I would prefer that you not dress quite so provocatively in public. Particularly with Lucius Malfoy here tonight." Snape stopped talking and stared in the direction of Lucius, who was seated at a table with Narcissa, Draco, and Draco’s date.

"Lucius is not going to do anything tonight. He’s got Narcissa with him, hasn’t he?" Welkin asked.

Snape didn’t answer and continued to frown.

"I said, hasn’t he?" Welkin repeated her question insistently, kissing him on the cheek to encourage a response.

"Yes, he does have his wife with him," Snape begrudgingly admitted. "Narcissa is dressed very conservatively, I might add, as befits a married woman. Despite what I might think about his lack of morality where it extends to other men’s wives, Lucius does appear to have the respect he is due from his own wife," Snape pointed out.

"Don’t you kid yourself, Severus Snape. That’s not respect. That’s slavish devotion. You wouldn’t want me that way, would you? In your heart, you know that’s true. It wouldn't be nearly as much fun being married to me if I was like that."

It was true, although Snape was sometimes reluctant to admit it. He loved his Welkin as much for her inability to be completely tamed and domesticated, as he did for all the other wonderful things that she was to him.

"No, I wouldn’t," he admitted, and finally stopped frowning.

Flitwick was on the bandstand announcing Welkin, much to the annoyance of The Weird Sisters, who were not used to sharing their venues with other musical acts.

"I’ve got to go," Welkin said. She finished her champagne before whispering in Snape’s ear. "Guess what I’m wearing underneath my dress? I’ll give you a clue. They’re black, and silky, and split up the middle. When I’m finished with my set, would you like to go find a place you can try them out, and see just how efficient they are?" She kissed him full on the mouth, and hurried off towards the stage, glancing behind herself at him just once to see his reaction, as he stood there open-mouthed.

Welkin bounded up on stage as some unfamiliar Muggle music began, and went right into her first song, strutting across the platform as she sang a Pat Benatar anthem, Hit Me With Your Best Shot.

By the time the song was over, a lot of the Hogwarts students in the crowd were up front, close to the stage again, as Welkin launched into her rendition of Peter Gabriel’s Steam. She followed that one with Donna Summer’s Hot Stuff.

Unfortunately, Flitwick had not heard the lyrics for any of Welkin’s chosen Muggle tunes, including this one. His exposure to her singing before this had been when she had joined his chorus during practice on the occasional melodic tune. His eyes widened now in panic, and he looked around for Dumbledore nervously as Welkin sang the overly suggestive lyrics of Hot Stuff with a hip-thrusting intensity.

She followed that with one of her favorite INXS songs, Need You Tonight, which was somewhat less suggestive, but not much less, in Flitwick’s opinion.

So slide over here

And give me a moment

Your moves are so raw

I've got to let you know

I've got to let you know

You're one of my kind

I need you tonight

'Cause I'm not sleepin'

There's somethin' about you boy

That makes me sweat…*

By the time Welkin launched into Aretha Franklin’s Respect, loudly dedicating it to "my husband, Severus Snape," Flitwick’s face was bright red, the Weasley twins had climbed onto the stage and were dancing energetically with Welkin, and Severus Snape was watching all of this with a quirky, amused smile, his annoyance at Welkin’s inappropriate attire nearly forgotten.

Unlike Flitwick, Snape was quite familiar with several of these songs, as Welkin had a habit of bursting into song and dance at the oddest moments, when something that happened reminded her of a particular tune. Not all of her tunes were sexual, but her style of singing made even the most innocuous song sound that way sometimes. Snape could have warned Flitwick about it, if only he had asked him. As it was, Severus was highly amused watching his diminutive fellow faculty member, and Hogwarts choir director, squirm with discomfort. Something told Snape that Welkin would not be asked to sing at another Hogwarts public function in the near future.

Narcissa Malfoy was not amused at all. When Draco and his date abandoned their table to join the throng in front of the stage, she was not pleased. She watched with increasing annoyance as Lucius sat entranced with that Welkin creature’s disgusting performance. Why, he was practically drooling on himself, she thought angrily. She could have strangled him.

Narcissa had run into Welkin Snape in the ladies' room earlier in the evening, and the brazen creature had actually had the effrontery to suggest to her that, if she would be more sexually attentive to her husband, Lucius might not be 'cattin’ around all over the countryside' as Welkin had so crudely put it. She had then proceeded to make some of the most impertinently specific suggestions on exactly what form that 'attentiveness' should take. Why, some of the things that woman suggested she do to, and with, Lucius were absolutely obscene! Severus Snape might be interested in receiving such disgusting things from his wife, but not her Lucius!

"Lucius, I’d like to go home now," she told him, when she could stand no more of Welkin's discordant and vulgar harmonies. He didn’t seem to hear her. "Lucius!"

"What, Cissy?" he asked, finally coming out of his trance.

"I said, I want to go home…now!"

"Well…I suppose…If you insist, my dear," Lucius told her, sounding more than a bit disappointed.

Just you wait until I get you home, Narcissa thought. I’m not putting up with this any longer. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do, but I’ve got to do something. Lucius Malfoy's 'cattin' around' days needed to come to an end.

Welkin rejoined Severus at the bar, a bit winded, but smiling happily. "What a workout! Did you like my dedication to you? R-E-S-P-E-C-T," she sang.

"I liked the part about whipping it to you," Snape told her, his eyes glittering at her dangerously.

"Why, Severus - your nostrils are absolutely flaring. You look like a bull about to charge," Welkin teased. "Whipping what to me?" she asked innocently.

"Come along, Mrs. Snape," he replied, grabbing her hand, and a full bottle of champagne from behind the bar. He pulled her along with him out the door, as Welkin tried to keep up with his long, quick strides. Instead of leading her towards the dungeons and their quarters, he surprised her by heading for one of the side doors, pulling her outside with him, and down the row of parked carriages to the last one, which was secluded in the shadows cast by a large snow-covered tree that loomed over it.

Snape jerked open the carriage door, and pulled her inside with him. He pushed her back against the red velvet cushioned seatback. Before she could say anything, he forced open her legs and thrust the bottle between them, popping open the champagne, palming the cork to keep it from striking her. A strong stream of the bubbly spewed out forcefully, splashing and wetting her pussy lips, which were revealed by the slit in her black silk crotchless panties.

"That’s cold!" Welkin squealed.

"Let me warm you!"

Severus dived between her legs, and began to tongue her pussy, lapping up the champagne eagerly. Welkin gave a quick intake of breath, and spread her knees wider for him. Each time he licked her clean he would pour more champagne from the bottle over her rapidly engorging pussy lips and begin sucking and licking at them again.

When the bottle was half empty, he inserted his forefinger inside her, testing to see how slick with her own juices that she was. Withdrawing his finger, Snape brought the bottle up against the entrance to her vagina, and inserted the tip inside her. He worked it in and out, slowly inserting more each time, until the first four inches were inside. He twirled it, enjoying the sounds of her groans, and then began fucking her with it as he unzipped his trousers and withdrew his penis. He grasped her right hand, and placed it on his cock.

"Get it hard," he ordered her hoarsely, and she obediently began to masturbate him, feeling him harden and start to throb under her touch. "Make me hard so I can fuck you." Another minute and he was nearly fully erect. He quickly withdrew the champagne bottle from inside her, and with a groan plunged into her, spreading her knees wide with his hands and pumping in and out of her as she sat upright against the seat cushion, her head whipping from side to side as he battered her. "Harder, Severus," she urged. "Harder!" He slammed into her even harder and deeper, over and over again.

The prefect stood still, watching the last carriage in the row moving slightly back and forth. He frowned as he began to approach it, prepared to catch some hapless student couple in the act. Suddenly, a time-worn hand reached out of the shadows and halted him. "I think that I can handle this one," the headmaster told him.

"Professor Dumbledore! Are you sure?" the boy asked.

"Quite sure," Dumbledore replied. "Run along now."

Dumbledore walked up to the carriage, and leaned against it close to the door, folding his arms. He stayed that way until it stopped swaying. "Severus…Welkin? If you are quite finished in there, I suggest that you might want to adjourn to your quarters for the evening."

Inside the carriage, Welkin froze, then snapped her legs closed as Severus pulled out of her. "Oh, shit!" she whispered, looking at Snape wide-eyed. "It’s Albus! He’s going to skin us alive!" Snape hastily used the Scourgify Charm to clean himself, Welkin and the interior of the coach, and then tucked his softening cock back into his trousers. Welkin pulled down her dress. "Do I smell like pussy?" she whispered to Severus. "No, my sweet - not anymore," he whispered back.

They exited the carriage as calmly as they could manage. Snape got out first, turned, and offered his hand to Welkin to assist her.

"Well?" Dumbledore addressed them both. "What is the explanation this time? This is the second time this month you have been, shall we say, indiscreet in a public place."

"I don’t know what you mean. We were just having a private conversation, and the carriage seemed like a good place to do that," Welkin told him. Better for her to lie to Albus than for Severus to, she thought.

"Oh, really? That must have been quite a spirited intellectual exchange, considering that it had the carriage rocking," Dumbledore said astutely.

"Well…" Snape cleared his throat.

"Oh, never mind, Severus. He obviously knows what we were doing," Welkin sighed. "It was all my idea, Albus. Don’t blame Severus. He didn’t want to do it in the carriage. I talked him into it. He just went along with it to please me." Welkin grasped Snape’s hand and squeezed it as she was lying, signaling him to keep quiet.

"Is that true, Severus?" Albus sounded like he was questioning two naughty children.

"No. It is not. I pulled Welkin into the carriage and had my way with her because I desired her, and I thought it would be…" Snape looked as if he were searching for the proper word.

"Fun." Welkin finished the sentence for him. She smiled up at Snape proudly. He might not be completely comfortable with admitting he was having fun, but he certainly did know how to. He had come a long way since they were first married. Welkin hoped to take him even further.

Much to his own surprise, Snape agreed with her assessment. He never used to do anything simply because he thought it would be fun to do it. Before Welkin became part of his life, there always had to be a well-defined purpose to things, other than it simply might be fun to do them. Welkin was teaching him that there were other things as important to living a full life as duty and responsibility were.

"Yes. I thought it would be fun," he agreed with Welkin firmly. "Fun and…exciting," he added, looking at Albus with a gleam of defiance in his dark eyes, as if daring him to censure him for that.

"So, there’s your answer. Now please stop harassing my husband, Albus. We are married you know, and it wouldn't matter even if we weren’t. We’re adults, whether you think so or not. We haven't done a thing to be ashamed of," Welkin said indignantly, as she wrapped her arm around Severus’s waist protectively.

"Let me remind you that there would be no need for my constant monitoring of your connubial activities, nor to remind you of the rules at Hogwarts concerning public displays of this nature, if you had only heeded my warnings the last six or seven times I quoted the rules to you. Remember, there are children about - impressionable minds that have to be shielded from your more impetuous adult impulses."

"We’ll try to do better, won’t we, Severus?" Welkin promised to show more restraint, just as she had every time they had been called down by Dumbledore for the same infraction.

"Which brings me to you, and your performance at the Yule Ball tonight," Albus said, focusing on Welkin.

"Did you like it?" Welkin asked, smiling hopefully at him.

"I liked it quite a lot," Albus said. "Were it a party for strictly adults, I would say nothing. But do you really think that songs about…what was it again?…oh yes…‘Hot Stuff’… are appropriate for these young students?"

"What’s wrong with Hot Stuff?" Welkin asked, looking shocked, and a bit dismayed, that there should even be a problem. "It’s a fucking classic!"

"The words, paired with your rather suggestive gyrations come to mind," Albus replied, raising an eyebrow at her. ‘Want to bring a wild man back home’, he quoted an example. "Really, Welkin - how could you judge that to be appropriate?"

"But those kids loved it!" Welkin said defensively.

"But some of their parents did not," Dumbledore informed her. "There were a few complaints. Thankfully, very few, as most of the adults seemed to enjoy it too."

"My wife is a very talented singer," Snape said proudly, and placed his arm around Welkin’s shoulders comfortingly. "What those dunderheads think about it is of no concern whatsoever to either of us."

"Oh, I quite agree, up to a point," Dumbledore said. "But to maintain harmony, and to keep poor Professor Flitwick from succumbing to a heart attack, in the future, please clear all song selections through my office."

Albus considered the matter closed. He glanced down and noticed the half empty bottle of champagne Snape was still holding in one hand. He waved his hand, and produced three glasses out of nothingness. "Shall we drink to our new understanding?" Albus asked, indicating the bottle expectantly.

Snape looked at Welkin with a please-get-us-out-of-this look. He couldn’t serve Albus Dumbledore champagne from a bottle that had just been intimately involved with his Welkin’s love tunnel. The bottle was the only thing that he had failed to Scourgify and, no doubt, still tasted of Welkin’s private vintage.

"Oh, no! Not from this bottle!" Welkin exclaimed. "We’ll get a fresh one. We…uh…just found this one in the carriage! You just can’t be too careful, you know. I mean, we’ve got no way of knowing where it might have been!"

Or what it might taste like, Snape thought wryly.

Another boring evening at Malfoy Manor, thought Lucius Malfoy, annoyed that Cissy had seen fit to drag him away from the Hogwarts Yule Ball just as things were starting to get interesting. He sat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace in his cavernous bedchamber, swirling the brandy in his snifter, playing over in his mind every deliciously saucy movement that Welkin had made during her performance tonight.

"What in hell does she see in him?" he fussed, wondering what Severus Snape had ever done to deserve having such a woman as that dropped into his lap. If only his own wife were that effortlessly provocative. It was no wonder that Snape had knocked him flat at the party at the Burrow. He was merely protecting his prize. Lucius had not expected it though. Severus had always been so deferential to him when they were younger. After his initial anger at being knocked down, Lucius had actually respected Snape for it, even though he certainly could have done without his interference with his pursuit of Welkin's juicy little quim. No matter. There would be other opportunities. He would make certain of that. Her continued rejection of him merely made him that much more determined. Rejection was not something Lucius was accustomed to, where women were concerned.

He went back to his ruminations and focused on his own wife. It wasn’t that Cissy wasn’t attractive, he thought. She was quite beautiful, actually. Many men thought so, and he was quite proud to squire her to the boring fetes that passed for local social gatherings. In public, she was perfection. It was in private that she lacked a certain joie de vivre – a quality that Welkin had in abundance.

If only Cissy could be a little more like Welkin in private, they might still be able to make a go of it. As it was, Lucius could not even remember the last time that they had made love. He knew it must have been on one of those rare occasions when he had overdone it with drink in Hogsmeade, and gone home instead of bedding down with his most current paramour, or some random wench from the tavern.

On those infrequent occasions when he had stumbled his way to her bedchamber door asking for admittance, and she had actually opened her door to him, she had been dutiful, but cold and unresponsive. It had been like making love to the marble statue of some remote goddess.

Lord knows she had never approached him in his own bedchamber. She was obviously no longer interested in him sexually, if she ever had been – a fact which puzzled him, and injured his masculine pride. When he looked into his mirror, he still saw a handsome, powerful wizard in his prime of life – a man who any woman should be proud of, and eager to bed.

It was while he was lost in this self-pitying reverie that he heard a knock at his door.

"Lucius?" Cissy called out. "May I come in?"

"Cissy?" Lucius rose from his chair, wondering what in the world could have brought her to his chambers so late this evening. No doubt, it was something about Draco. It always seemed to be something to do with Draco. He went to the door and opened it.

"What is it? Is it Draco?" he asked. He stood aside to let her enter.

"No. Not about Draco. About us." Narcissa said bluntly. She glided into the room in her elegant dressing gown, and went to stand by the fireplace. "May I have some brandy?" she asked, noticing his half empty glass on the table by his chair.

"Yes, of course," he said, sounding surprised because she rarely drank more than a little wine. He retrieved a second glass, and poured her a small sip.

"A little more, if you please," she said. If she was going to do this, she was going to need a stiffer drink than that small amount he had apportioned to her. She would brook no more small servings from Lucius Malfoy while others less deserving got their cups filled to overflowing by him.

Lucius topped up the glass with a very generous amount of vintage brandy, which Cissy accepted and drained in two gulps. Lucius was alarmed when she asked for more, but poured a second drink anyway.

"Are you getting up the courage to ask me for a divorce?" Lucius asked her with a sneer, disguising his apprehension. He wouldn’t be at all surprised, considering all of the extra-curricular fucking he’d done over the course of their marriage. Narcissa was an intelligent woman, and she had to have known what was going on. He hadn’t even particularly tried to be discreet about it.

"Oh, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?" Narcissa started to pace as she drank more brandy. He noticed that her hair was down, loose and flowing, as she used to wear it when they had first met, and he had fallen madly and passionately in love with her.

"You’d like that, because then you’d be free to run after that…that…dreadful Welkin person! Well, I have absolutely no intention of divorcing you, so just get that idea right out of your head! I don’t see what you see in her. She’s so common! And besides, it’s perfectly obvious that she’s not interested in you. She’s only interested in Severus! Did you think I wouldn’t hear about that little fracas at the Weasley Christmas party? Which you didn’t bother to tell me you were attending, by the way!"

"Cissy, you are spilling your brandy," Lucius told her, as she became more and more agitated as she paced.

She halted, and glared at him. "Then perhaps I’d better drink it, if you’re so damned concerned about your precious oriental rug," she said, and gulped down the rest of it. She walked over to the decanter and poured herself another.

"I don’t care about the damned rug!" Lucius told her. "I was merely pointing out…"

"Do you have any idea what sort of depraved things that she does with Severus?" Narcissa ignored him and continued ranting. She began to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace again. "Why, she puts his…his…male member into her mouth and she…she…sucks on it until he…oh, I can’t even say it! It’s just so filthy!"

Lucius groaned. Oh, lord, if only she had not put that visual image into his head right now. Perhaps he’d better sit down in his chair before… too late… He felt his cock starting to respond as Cissy continued, completely oblivious to what effect she was having on him.

"She actually had the effrontery to suggest that you would want me to do that disgustingly sordid thing to you! Not only that, but she said I should let you do the same thing to me, either separately or at the same time. She said Severus enjoyed it quite immensely when they did it at the same time. She called it something ridiculous like…oh…what was it?....playing garter snakes, or…"

"Playing hoop-snakes" Lucius corrected. He collapsed in his chair with a groan.

"What’s the matter with you, Lucius? Are you ill?" Narcissa asked. She took another drink, and went off again before he could answer.

"She said Severus was exceptional at it, and she always enjoyed it so much that she…had a successful completion…at least two or three times each time he did it," she paraphrased. Welkin had actually used the phrase 'I come like a screaming banshee', but Narcissa didn’t want to use such crude terminology.

God, how he wanted to masturbate right now! Lucius thought in agony. Cissy had no fucking clue! Even her overly coy descriptions were driving him crazy.

"Well, I told her that was the sort of thing that men went to prostitutes for, not their wives, and you would never want me to do that sort of thing to you under any circumstance!" She finished her drink and paused, watching as Lucius squirmed in his chair. "She laughed at me, Lucius!"

"Are you sure you’re quite alright?" she asked again, this time with a hint of concern. Again, she didn’t wait for him to answer, but suddenly asked: "You wouldn’t want me to do that sort of thing…would you?" The sash to her dressing gown had started to come loose, and Lucius suddenly noticed that she appeared to be…

"Cissy! Are you naked under that dressing gown?"

"Well…I might be," she told him coyly. Lucius groaned again. Was she deliberately trying to torture him to get back at him for his infidelities? That must be it. Surely she wasn’t here to offer herself to him.

"Welkin said that you might like it if I wasn’t always so buttoned up." Feeling the brandy, she raised a hand and stroked it across her lovely throat experimentally, liking the way her own touch made her feel.

"You didn’t answer me, Lucius," she told him. She ran her hand down her throat to her exposed cleavage, letting her long slender fingers rest there lightly.

"What? What didn’t I answer?" Lucius asked, distracted by the thought of her beautiful alabaster body underneath the dressing gown.

"I said, you wouldn’t want me to do something like that, would you? Play…hoop-snakes?" She had finally set down her glass and was standing still, right in front of him.

"Cissy! For God’s sake, YES!" Lucius leapt to his feet, grabbing her and pulling her against himself. It was only then that she noticed his arousal.

"Lucius!" She loosened her sash the rest of the way and let her dressing gown fall to the floor. "Ravish me, Lucius!" she announced dramatically.

Ye gods, Lucius thought. This was too good to be true. He must be dreaming. But if he was, he hoped he didn’t wake up just yet.

Lucius Malfoy kissed his wife passionately, lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed.

"He’s a voyeur, that’s what he is," Welkin accused. "He’s been following us around all over Hogwarts, trying to catch us going at it. He’s just disappointed he didn’t catch us the rest of the times."

"Albus Dumbledore is not a voyeur," Snape denied. "He is nearly 150 years old, Welkin."

"What’s age got to do with it? Why do you think they call it being a dirty OLD man?"

Snape shifted Sullivan in his arms as they walked along companionably, headed back to their quarters for the evening after their champagne toast with Albus.

"So, does this mean we’re never going to do it anywhere but our quarters?" Welkin asked glumly, obviously not happy at the prospect.

"Of course not," Snape reassured her. "It simply means that we need to try harder not to be discovered," he asserted to her pragmatically.

Welkin’s face lit up. "I know a really great place where we could…"

"Not tonight, Welkin. Staging such an adventure twice in one evening would be foolhardy," Snape advised. "Perhaps before the New Year. I will assuage your disappointment after Sullivan is asleep tonight, by pleasuring you orally until you beg me to stop," he said matter-of-factly. "You will be quite exhausted, and I doubt that you will be able to respond to Sullivan’s need for you properly through the night, so I would suggest that you put some of your milk into bottles for me to feed him, before I proceed with my intense and prolonged pleasuring of you."

"You really are arrogant, and way too full of yourself sometimes. Do you know that?"

"It is not arrogant to know one’s abilities or to state them plainly. I am quite masterful at pleasing you sexually, as you have often pointed out, just as you are quite exceptional at pleasing me. I suspect that you are very wet now, just in the short amount of time that we have been discussing my plans to pleasure you. Am I not correct?"

"None of your business," Welkin told him crossly. He was too damn sure of himself after the party at the Burrow, when she begged his forgiveness for doubting him. She should never have apologized so profusely to him. He thought he was so fucking irresistible to her now, and was constantly teasing her and smirking about it. It annoyed her. Especially because it was largely true.

"Let me just check," he goaded, attempting to reach his unoccupied hand under her dress.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what? Your mother is very nonspecific about some things, Sullivan," Snape reported to him. "It is quite maddening at times."

"Oh, shut up! Even Sully knows better than that, and he can't even form coherent thoughts yet. How’s this for specificity, Professor Snape? I specifically would like to kick your ass right now."

Sully opened his mouth and produced a loud cooing sound, stopping them in their tracks.

"Oh, my God! Did you hear that? He’s trying to talk!" Welkin exulted. "He’s trying to say his first word! He’s brilliant!"

"That was not a word, Welkin. He is far too young. It was merely an indiscriminate sound."

"You didn’t think it sounded like a word?"

"No, I did not. What word did you think it sounded like?" Snape asked her solemnly, as they stood in the empty hallway, regarding their child intently.

"Well…I wouldn’t swear to this, but I think it sounded like…"

Snape was looking at her seriously, and expectantly.

"It sounded like…pussy," Welkin whispered. She waited a few beats, until Snape finally realized he was being had, then she burst into raucous laughter.

Author's Notes: *Song attribution - Need You Tonight, by INXS - written by Michael Hutchence, Andrew Farriss - Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., EMI Music Publishing
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Welkin in the Wizarding World (COMPLETED)

Chapter 29 - Yule Ball Redux 1995