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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
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A Fiercely Feathered Thing

Minerva and Severus question Welkin's strange food choices. Hagrid introduces Welkin to a flying horse. Welkin asks for Snape's help to matchmake Hagrid, and helps Severus take inventory in his private potions storehouse, both with predictable results

Minerva McGonagall was looking at Welkin's dessert plate with an expression that successfully managed to combine curiosity with disgust.

"If you don't mind my asking, what exactly is that you're eating?" she queried.

"Liverwurst and cantaloupe," Welkin answered. "Want some? It's really good together," she said enthusiastically.

"No, thank you," Minerva said with dainty politeness. There was no accounting for the taste of Americans where food was concerned.

Severus, who was listening to the exchange with more interest than he usually showed to Welkin's sometimes odd food choices, leaned over to whisper to her.

"Wells, are you..."

"No! I'm not pregnant!" she hissed back. "I'm not having food cravings!" She shot him an annoyed look. "Don't talk about that here in public! It's personal!"

"My...aren't we suddenly so fastidious about such things," Snape observed. "I was merely inquiring whether something might have gone awry with your contraceptive procedures."

"Nothing has, and nothing will," Welkin assured him firmly.

"The potion is not one hundred percent foolproof. I shouldn't count on that if I were you," he smirked back at her. "There is no assurance that one of our innumerable couplings over the course of the next two years will not succeed in defying the odds, and confounding your arbitrary attempt at scheduling."

What did he mean by that? Welkin wondered. She couldn't work herself up to be too worried about it, even though he was right, of course. One of his wigglers could slip through the net somehow and do the conception tango with one of her eggs. If his sperm were as determined as he was about most things, she had real cause for concern. And they did do it quite a lot. Wait a minute. Was that why he'd been at her so much more often this summer than usual? Maybe it wasn't a surge of testosterone, or lack of other things to occupy his mind, as he had claimed. Maybe he'd really been hoping he'd knock her up just by the law of averages.

Welkin narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the sneaky Slytherin bastard sitting next to her, who had returned to calmly eating his own more modest portion of dessert, a sliver-thin slice of Devil's Food Cake. A pretty appropriate choice, if you thought about it.

If what she suspected was true, what could she do about it? Nothing, really. It's not like he was breaking his promise not to tamper with her contraceptive potion. She would just have to hope that the law of averages worked out in her favor, because she damn well wasn't about to give up having sex with him. That would be insane, she decided. That would be like being married to Willie Wonka, and deciding to give up candy.

Welkin was distracted by the sight of yet another Owl swooping into the Great Hall and soaring towards the Gryffindor table. It came to a graceful landing squarely in front of Hermione Granger, and she quickly took the letter it was carrying, and extracted one from her bag to give to it in return.

That was every day for five straight days, Welkin thought, and that fact, coupled with the sour look on Ron Weasley's face every time the Owl arrived, made Welkin think that Hermione must have found herself a new boyfriend somewhere over the summer.

Ron was sitting there now, looking like he wanted to Incendio that poor bird. Welkin felt a little sorry for him, but it really was his own fault. He'd hesitated too long, and somebody else snatched up the prize. Hermione deserved to have a little fun with someone who was more attentive to her, Welkin decided. In the end, whatever was meant to be, would be.

Welkin went back to enjoying her liverwurst and caught Minerva looking at her again. She wrapped a small slice of the spicy pork liver sausage around the end of a piece of cantaloupe and stuffed it into her mouth, wiggling her eyebrows at Minerva as she chewed and swallowed with gusto.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" Welkin grinned, earning another disapproving look from Minerva.

"Yeh just have ter let 'im come ter yeh. Don't try ter rush 'im. Take it nice and slow," Hagrid advised.

Welkin stood quietly in place and watched as the proud creature pranced in place skittishly, eyeing her as suspiciously as she sometimes eyed her own husband. The difference was, Welkin had ceased to be skittish about approaching Severus within hours of first petting him, and letting him pet her. Hopefully, the powerful need for connection would lure this lovely winged thing within her grasp as well.

"I didn't know winged horses could be black. I've only ever seen pictures of white ones, like Pegasus," Welkin observed to Hagrid.

"Oh, no...they come in all the colors, they do. Even seen one meself 'bout the color o' the heathers," Hagrid said, as the animal continued to slowly advance until it was less than two feet away.

"Reach out yeh're hand now. Nice an' slow. Let 'im get yeh're scent," Hagrid advised.

Welkin stretched out her arm slowly. "Nice boy...pretty boy...come let me touch you, pretty boy," she cajoled. Come to think of it, this was pretty much how she'd had to lure Severus in close enough to touch that first night she'd been with him. She smiled to herself with amusement at the memory of how formal and forbidding he'd been before she broke down his reserve with a slap.

The winged horse thrust out his muzzle, and sniffed at her fingers gingerly, then snorted and pawed the ground again.

"Good...good," Hagrid smiled. "Give 'im this, an' yeh'll be 'is friend." He pressed an apple into her hand. "I don' have no single malt whisky with me. That would work better, but I think he'll like this."

Welkin held her palm out flat, and offered the shiny red apple.

"Here, winged beauty, come and get it. There's no harm here for you. I just want to touch you. I don't want to take away your freedom. No saddles or reins for you, my black beauty," Welkin said.

The sleek black animal stretched out its neck again and sniffed the piece of fruit, curled its lips back from its teeth, and suddenly chomped down on the apple, removing it cleanly and harmlessly from her hand. Welkin immediately turned her palm down again.

"Hold yeh're hand there. Steady...steady," Hagrid said, as the animal finished the apple and slowly nudged its muzzle against the palm of her hand. "That's good. Yeh're doin' real good," Hagrid praised Welkin as she stroked the animal's muzzle with smooth, light strokes.

"Such a beauty...such a prince," Welkin praised, smiling with delight. "Such a brave, black prince you are," she continued, as the animal folded his wings, and stood there regally, allowing her to admire him.

Welkin smiled at Hagrid. "Thank you for showing him to me, and showing me how to approach him. He's a real beauty," she said enthusiastically. "You're such a good teacher," she added.

Hagrid would have made a first rate veterinarian in the Muggle world, Welkin decided. He had such a natural affinity for, and love of animals of all sorts, from the largest dragon, to the tiniest fluff-ball of a kitten. Sometimes he tended to underestimate the destructive capacity of some of the larger, more aggressive beasties, but that was just part of his love for them. Come to think of it, Welkin had seen some pretty destructive kittens in her day too. Maybe there was such a thing as a docile dragon.

Hagrid's tutoring sessions had come to be some of her favorites, and not just because they were usually conducted outdoors. He was so kind and patient, and obviously enjoyed doing what he did, unlike poor Severus. He never said anything bad about Severus to her either, and she liked that about him too.

Severus, on the other hand, had been somewhat skeptical of Hagrid's skills as an instructor, or the usefulness of the classes to her, when Welkin had first started her tutoring sessions with him. Consequently, she often went out of her way to report to Severus how good an instructor Hagrid was, and how much she was learning.

Hagrid looked pleased, but blushed slightly at Welkin's praise. "Wasn' much," he said humbly. "He likes yeh. He knows yeh're good folks. Not like 'em that on'y wants ter harness 'im and make 'im carry 'em on his back," Hagrid said.

"Oh, he doesn't have to worry about that. I couldn't ride him even if I wanted to. I'd be too terrified of falling off! I can't even stay on a broom six feet off the ground, much less fly that high in the sky bareback on a flying horse. I'm afraid I'm destined to be strictly earthbound for the rest of my wizarding life. Madam Hooch has pretty much given up on me in disgust at this point. I think I'm driving the woman to drink," Welkin confessed.

"She might be usin' yer fer an excuse now, but I 'spect Neville Longbottom has put 'er in 'er cups more than yer have," Hagrid said. "I hate ter carry tales, but tha' boy's a mess when it comes ter flyin'. I 'spect no winged creature's safe wha' crosses paths with 'im on a broom!"

Black 'Pegasus' whinnied and shook his regal head up and down vigorously, as if in agreement, causing Hagrid and Welkin both to laugh in unison.

Poor Neville, Welkin thought. His reputation for clumsiness had to be pretty bad if even Hagrid and flying horses made jokes about it.

"No, Welkin, I do not think that Lilith the Amazon, as you call her, would consider accompanying Rubeus Hagrid on a dinner date," Snape said brusquely, "and I have no intention whatsoever of asking her whether she would."

"One jar of Salamander Blood, two Griffin Claws, and one jar of...Eye of Newt? Damn! Do you really use that stuff? I thought that was only something Shakespeare made up in Macbeth!" Welkin grinned down at Snape as he efficiently checked the list on his clipboard.

"William Shakespeare was a wizard, but not a very accomplished potioneer," Snape informed her blandly.

Welkin did a double take. Was he kidding? Sometimes she wasn't sure when he said things like that to her. It would certainly explain a lot about the controversies that had sprung up surrounding Shakespeare's true identity, if Severus were serious about it.

"Why won't you ask Lilith about Hagrid?" Welkin queried innocently. "She's about the tallest woman I know, and she certainly seems pretty liberal sexually. I don't think she would necessarily reject the idea automatically. Maybe the big cuddly grizzly bear type appeals to her. Hagrid's a Sagittarius. What sign is she? Maybe they're very compatible," she told him speculatively.

"Perhaps if she were a flesh-eating Thestral, or a venomous Acromantula, I might tend to agree with you, but as she is neither, I would suggest that you do not pursue this patently absurd idea any further," Snape advised, giving her his warning look. "Next shelf please," he motioned at her with his quill.

"Back row is...two jars of Bloodroot, one jar of Dragonfly Wings, one large bag of Snakeweed, one jar of Porcupine Quills, and four Bezoars...make that three...I'm going to need one for the next batch of drink," Welkin recited. Snape checked off the ingredients on his inventory as he continued to harangue her.

"Might I add that this unfortunate tendency of yours to suggest these ridiculous pairings is beginning to annoy me greatly. First it was Minerva McGonagall and Aberforth Dumbledore, and now, Rebeus Hagrid and...well...anyone at all. If you continue in this manner, you will soon be opening a dating service for the Merpeople in Black Lake. It is most unseemly, and I wish it to cease. I will not countenance it," Snape told her primly. He stood next to the ladder she was perched on, looking up at her with disapproval.

Very funny. He knew very well that the Merpeople didn't need a dating service, Welkin thought. They were a pretty uninhibited lot.

"I will not countenance it...I will not countenance it," Welkin mimicked in a persnickety sounding voice. "That's all you ever say to me. Is there anything at all that I ever do that you will countenance?" she asked with mild exasperation.

Snape stood looking up at her with maddening calmness of demeanor.

"Yes, I believe that there is," he said. He let his gaze sweep over her jeans-clad rump deliberately, to make his intentions clear to her. Welkin suddenly realized that she had stepped into his trap by asking that question, and it had just sprung shut.

"Don't even think about it. Maybe fifteen minutes ago I might have been considering it, but I'm not in the mood now," Welkin told him. She sounded and looked cranky to Snape, as cranky as Sullivan was when he was tired, but refused to be lulled to sleep by the rocker.

"I shall remedy that," he said, setting his clipboard and quill on one of the lower shelves, and moving closer to her to grasp her around her waist firmly. "Come down, my pet. I think that it is time for a break."

"Go remedy yourself. I don't want to be remedied, and I don't need a break," Welkin said sullenly. She wrapped her arms around a rung of the ladder, resisting his attempts to pull her down from her perch.

"Yes, you do," Snape assured her, his voice suddenly silky and seductive.

"No...I don't," Welkin assured him right back, clinging to the ladder like a cat with her claws dug into the bark of a tree. "Don't! You're rocking the ladder. These Pickled Slugs and Eel Eyes aren't going to count themselves, you know. We have to finish the inventory," she told him sanctimoniously. "Business before pleasuring is my motto now. See how well you've taught me? Aren't you proud of me?" she teased.

"We shall count them tomorrow," he promised. "Come down, Wells. It is your duty as my assistant to follow my instructions."

"I'm not officially your assistant. I'm just an indentured servant. Anyway, that's what you promised the last time, and the time before that. I don't want to be your unpaid flunky anymore. You take too many breaks, and it's making my pussy sore." She began to giggle in spite of herself, while he attempted to wrestle her down by gripping her by the calves of her legs, and tugging at her as she continued to resist him strenuously.

Welkin saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the open doorway to Snape's personal Potions Storehouse. Damn! They should have shut the door. That man was everywhere! Why wasn't he in his quarters listening to his chamber music? Or giving Harry Potter another motivational speech or something? Why did he have to shadow her and Severus everywhere they went and spoil their fun? Oh, what the hell, Welkin thought. Let him put them under house arrest if he had to. She really didn't care anymore if he caught them.

"Sexual harrassment! Help me, Albus! I'm being sexually harrassed by a Hogwarts staff member!" she pleaded dramatically.

Snape stopped tugging at her, and stood there gazing at Albus uncertainly, but without releasing his firm grip on Welkin's legs.

Albus looked from one to the other without the least bit of surprise in his expression. But then he did something that neither of them expected.

"I'm afraid that I can't assist you, Welkin. I choose not to interfere in how Professor Snape deals with either his students, his personal life, or his assistants. I trust him implicitly to do the right thing. I'm sure you'll thank me for my relative lack of interference later, my dear. Carry on, Severus."

Albus smiled at them with a more spritely twinkle in his eyes, and just before he turned away, he pointed at Welkin and spoke a few words tersely, magically loosening her grasp on the rung of the ladder, and flinging her backwards into Snape's waiting arms.

"Excellent catch, Severus," he said approvingly, and closed the door securely on them.

"I can't believe it! He didn't lecture us, or banish us to our quarters without supper. Or even deduct House points. Fuck me!" Welkin exclaimed in mock surprise.

"I should like to, if you are agreeable," Snape replied softly, seeking her consent this time, instead of her surrender. He brushed his lips lightly against hers. "But I would not wish to be accused of sexually harassing you, although I am not sure what constitutes harassment in this particular situation."

"Of course I'm agreeable, Professor Snape. We wouldn't want to disappoint the headmaster, now would we? He seems to have certain expectations of us in this situation. Don't you worry...I'll show you exactly what constitutes sexual harassment, Sevvy," she promised him with a throaty laugh, wrapping her arms more tightly about him.

Snape spoke a Cushioning Charm before he lowered them both to the floor of the dimly lit room. This really was one of Welkin's favorite places to do it, because there were so many interesting smells from the potions ingredients wafting by the nostrils to excite the senses. It was almost like incense, and the close, dark quarters were very romantic to her, in an oddly cluttered, uncomfortable way.

She might be earthbound by her fear of heights, but Severus took her to heights that no one else could ever attain by broom, or winged horse, or even rocketing space shuttle.

Lying beneath Severus now, his hard body molded tightly to hers, Welkin kissed him hungrily on the lips, her passions inflamed by the feel of his warm, rough hands roaming over the familiar terrain of her body, taking his own form of inventory. She captured the lobe of his ear between her teeth, nibbling and sucking lightly at it, her arms about him, stroking and kneading his back as she felt her own tension slowly building, and she absorbed through her fingertips the feel of his excitement quickly rising. Welkin suddenly flashed on the image of the flying horse bounding joyfully into the air and taking flight at the end of her lesson this morning, and it inspired her.

"My love for you is a fiercely feathered thing...my Dark Angel...my lusty black stallion...my Severus," she whispered to him, stirring both his heart and the fire in his loins with her unexpectedly poetic words. "Where are your wings, my love? If I pet you, will you show them to me?" she asked, just before he silenced her again with his lips, and started her inexorable ascent into the stratosphere with his unmistakably sensual kisses, feasting on her mouth ravenously until Welkin, consumed with her awful, wonderful, overwhelming need for him, finally cried out loudly to him, pleading for him to enter her.

Sinking into the welcoming warmth of her body, Severus Snape spread his wings joyfully and took flight, soaring with Welkin once again towards the edge of their sweet mutual oblivion.
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Welkin in the Wizarding World (COMPLETED)

A Fiercely Feathered Thing