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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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As The Twig Is Bent

Snape voices his objections to Welkin's participation in Hermione's house-elf liberation project. Draco tries to carry on in his father's absence. Welkin tells Severus about Julien and Hermione. Sully throws a tantrum and learns a new word.

Welkin barely had time to hang up her coat and join him at his table at The Three Broomsticks when Severus spotted the button she was wearing.

"Please tell me that is not what it appears to be," Snape pleaded with an elaborate sigh.

"I can hardly believe it's only the middle of October. It's colder than a goblin's heart out there! Sorry I'm late—Sully didn't want me to leave him with Mrs. Murdoch. I had to wait until she had him engrossed in a storybook before I could slip out," Welkin explained. "What are you talking about?" She sat down, looking perplexed and poised for a new skirmish with him.

Severus often blew things out of proportion when he caught her in some teensy little infraction of his lengthy list of rules of conduct—like the time she sent him the Owl with the dirty limerick she'd written for him when he was in a teachers' staff meeting. You'd think he would have been grateful for the break from the god-awful boredom. But no—he'd lectured her later that night until she was ready to scream, and then when she finally opened her mouth to protest he had the audacity to ask her to act out the limerick for him. What a hypocrite! Although she had to admit, acting out 'There Once Was a Slytherin So Lewd' had been a lot of fun. Severus had even added a verse of his own.

"This garish adornment pinned to your clothing is what I am referring to," Snape clarified. He indicated the large, round button pinned to her blouse at the left shoulder, poking at it as if it were some particularly odorous road-kill. His lips were curled in an expression of distaste.

"You mean my S.P.E.W. button? Hermione asked me to wear it in support of her campaign to raise awareness of the plight of downtrodden house-elves. It's a blinky button too—watch this..."

Welkin touched a finger to the rim and the large purple letters began to flash consecutively in a continuous sequence. "Do you like it? I can get you one too if you want," she teased, since she already knew his dismal opinion of S.P.E.W.

"I hope your conspicuous display of that tasteless monstrosity does not mean that you actually joined that absurd organization of Miss Granger's. We are already unpopular enough with the Hogwarts house-elves since you refuse to use them to keep our quarters tidy, and will not let me acquire one for you for Spinner’s End during the summer months. Were it not for your acquiescence to the occasional delivery of after-hours foodstuffs by them to our chambers...”

“That's different. That's just room service as far as I'm concerned. I try to tip them, but they just won't take it. Come on, Severus. We’re talking about house-elves here! If they get upset and don’t like us, what are they gonna do about it anyway—grovel us to death? They’re so fucking servile that they creep me out sometimes. I think Hermione is right—they could use a little liberating,” Welkin said. “They’re so anxious to please that they remind me of the Stepford Wives in that Ira Levin book I told you about; except they’re nothing to write home about in the looks department, and I can’t even begin to imagine having sex with one of them.”

Welkin appropriated Snape’s glass of firewhisky and took a sip, since she didn’t have her own drink yet. “Okay—Maybe I can imagine it—but I’d never actually want to do it,” she corrected herself truthfully.

“Your unorthodox sexual imaginings aside—If you have signed that ridiculous petition Miss Granger is attempting to circulate once again, or joined that asinine movement of hers, I shall most certainly see to it that your name is erased from it,” Snape assured her. “One would think that troublesome little know-it-all would have enough to occupy her overactive mind, what with friend Potter's arrogant obsession with defeating the Dark Lord single-handedly. That girl is creating enmity between elf and wizard where none exists and attempting to draw you into the fray. I shall not...”

“Countenance it!” Welkin finished in tandem and cocked her head at him.

“For your information, Mr. Sunshine, I am neither your house-elf nor your Stepford Wife, and if you try to erase anything I ever choose to sign, I’ll hex you into the middle of next week without a Time-Turner,” she told him in a pleasant voice that didn't quite match her threat.

She tempered her threat with a smile for him. “I haven’t signed anything yet, Severus,” she admitted. “I told her I’d have to think about it just to stall her because she's so damn persistent, but I don’t really think I want to get involved. Social activism just isn’t my kind of thing. I like to save my energy for other things.” She slid his glass back into his hand and stood up.

“I’m going to go get us some fresh drinks at the bar. Don’t look so glum, sweetness.” She leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I may not be your servile little house-elf... but I am your willing love slave... anytime you want it... anyway you want it...”

Snape's glum expression altered immediately. “I shall test that assertion later,” he warned her, giving her a crooked smile.

"I hope you do. You know how I love a good... testing," Welkin said, arching an eyebrow at him suggestively. She gave him a little bow.

“Welkin would be grievously unhappy if Master Snape did not wish her to serve him. She will always defend Master to the death from those who wish to harm him or not extend him credit for a proper bar tab. Welkin would never wish to serve other than the noble House of Snape, Sir.”

Welkin mimicked elf lingo and winked at Severus before she trotted off on her errand, the button still flashing annoyingly.

Dragon slayer, my arse—the man's nothing but a fraud and a coward, Draco thought.

Across the room, Draco Malfoy sat alone, holding a drink he had bribed one of the other customers into buying for him. It was a curious sight to those who knew him well—or thought they knew him. Crabbe and Goyle, those hulking figures who had always flanked him as his personal minions since day one of his enrollment at Hogwarts, were nowhere in sight. Draco nursed the firewhisky, not really caring for the taste of the crude stuff, but liking the effect of being seen drinking it. It suited his new intimidating Death Eater image of himself.

Draco watched Severus Snape's interaction with his wife and observed the way she had leaned in to whisper something intimate to him before flitting over to the bar. He saw how Snape now sat observing her every move, as if she were some precious pile of goblin treasure that he was guarding like a watchful, jealous dragon. Considering that Snape had just recently slain one himself, he should know that dragons like him were not invincible. Only the Dark Lord was impervious to defeat.

Draco watched passively, resenting them both—Snape for still being there to guard her, and Welkin for having a husband to watch over her, when Draco's father was rotting in Azkaban.

Wasn't Snape supposed to be his father's friend? Wasn't he supposed to be a loyal Death Eater? Yet he'd done nothing at all to prevent his 'friend' Lucius from being captured after the disastrous skirmish at the Department of Mysteries with Potter and his adoring apostles. Why hadn't Snape been there to do the Dark Lord's bidding?

It wasn't fair that Snape still had his wife and child, while Draco and his mother were alone. Alone except for Aunt Bella, that is, who totally agreed with Draco's jaundiced view of things.

Snape should have been there, she had commiserated with him in the aftermath. He was not to be trusted, Bella had impressed upon Draco numerous times, despite Snape's 'empty promises' and false claims that he wished to help. If it weren't for Severus Snape and his lack of backbone and loyalty, she had insinuated her views into Draco's ears, Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be sitting in Azkaban now like 'a common criminal'. The humiliation of it, and the way many of the students at Hogwarts looked so condescendingly at Draco now, even many of the Slytherins, was almost more than Draco could bear. It was only the fact that he knew how superior he was to all of them that helped him endure it.

Draco's aunt had previously been rescued from the Wizarding prison, along with her husband Rodolphus and numerous others, at the behest of Lord Voldemort, who had quickly oozed into the void left in Draco's life by the absence of his father. Draco had hopes that Lord Voldemort would arrange his father's early release in the same way if he completed his assigned tasks to his satisfaction.

Without his father's guidance, Draco felt cast adrift. He had tried to pattern himself after the confident man he admired so much, adopting Lucius' beliefs as his own without question or much examination. He had thought that Professor Snape, a man he had once admired almost as much as his father, had shared those beliefs, but he now doubted that was true, and he was resentful of Snape's interference and attempts to ruin his chance to prove himself useful to Lord Voldemort.

Draco continued to stare at Snape as Welkin returned to their table, bearing two large glasses of firewhisky.

Even though Draco knew he could no longer count on Snape, there were still times when he wished that he could seek his advice on the troubling tasks that Lord Voldemort had set for him. Bullying, condescension and intimidation were things Draco had no qualms about—but killing the headmaster? Could he even bring himself to do such an unthinkable thing? What would happen if he failed?

He saw Snape glance in his direction casually, then quickly return his attention to Welkin.

Draco usually had others to fight his battles and make sure that the pathways of life were clear and smooth, paved in gold Galleons for him. Now, he had no one but himself and his mother, who had been entrusted to his protection by his father before they took him away. Lucius Malfoy, son of Abraxas Malfoy, expected Draco to do no less than uphold the Malfoy family honor and traditions anyway that he had to.

It was too late to have second thoughts. As his father had done before him, now Draco was bound irrevocably in service to the Dark Lord, and his arm bore the Dark Mark, the burning emblem of his pledge of eternal fealty.

Draco took another sip of his drink and nervously fingered the latch of the leather pouch on the seat at his side. Inside the pouch was a very special artifact recently acquired from Borgin and Burke's in Knockturn Alley. He would be slipping the package to Madam Rosmerta before he left, along with her orders of what to do with it.

Would she follow her orders? She wouldn't have a choice. The neophyte Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, was about to perform his first Unforgivable Curse on her and she would act as his proxy to send the cursed Opal necklace on its way to Albus Dumbledore.

"Compliments of the house," Welkin told him, setting the two doubles down on the table. "All of our drinks are free tonight. Madam Rosmerta seems pretty impressed by you after hearing the outrageous stories that have been going around about you rescuing me. The last person who mentioned it to her said you saved me from a dragon, a Chimera and a pack of rampaging Unseelie intent on carrying me off to their dark lair. I'm surprised you haven't been asked for your autograph yet."

Snape gave a dismissive snort as he lifted his drink to his lips. "Madam Rosmerta is far too gullible if she falls so easily for such embellishments," he told Welkin. "She has always had an unfortunate tendency to favor the Quidditch stars, self-proclaimed celebrities and other arrogant Gryffindor types."

"You sound a little bitter about that," Welkin said suspiciously. She turned her head back in the attractive pub owner's direction and gave her a little closer scrutiny. "Pretty, isn't she?" she asked him a little too casually.

Snape smirked at her. "I would suppose that she is... if one prefers her type. I find her a bit on the pedestrian side, personally. She does have a head for business however and she might have made an admirable Slytherin, had she been so Sorted."

That was the closest thing to a compliment that Welkin had heard Severus ever give another woman.

"She has nice hair, and a great figure for her age," Welkin continued, quaffing from her own drink and continuing to stare at the buxom blonde, as the brazen hussy just kept ogling her Severus.

"I much prefer your hair and form," Snape told her matter-of-factly.

"Really?"

"No, of course not. I merely said that to see how gullible you might be," Snape teased poker-faced.

"Asshole," Welkin said equally blandly. She twisted in her chair to scan the room, spotted Draco and twisted back hurridly. "What's Draco doing here by himself? He looks like he'd like to strangle us both," she observed.

"He probably would," Snape told her. "Fortunately, he does not have the skills."

"It's not our fault his father got himself thrown in Azkaban," Welkin objected. "You're just trying to help him out of the mess he's gotten himself in. He's an ungrateful little dumbass, if you ask me."

Welkin watched the corners of Snape's lips slowly quirk up in a tight smile.

"I would tend to agree with that evaluation these days."

Snape watched as Draco rose and made his way over to Rosmerta to pay his tab. Draco extracted something from his bag and shoved it across the bar at her. Snape saw her look up at the boy and stare at him, apparently listening to whatever he was saying with rapt attention. As she stared at him the tension slowly eased from the muscles of her face. Unblinkingly, she finally smiled broadly at Draco and mouthed something at him, slipping whatever he had offered her under the bar out of sight.

"So much like Lucius," Snape shook his head, assuming what he had just seen must be the exchange of a token between lovers. Rosmerta, though usually discreet about it, wasn't above dallying with a favored youth from Hogwarts Academy occasionally when it suited her. Rumor had it that she particularly favored the ones who could provide expensive and rare gifts to show their appreciation for her attentions. If anyone could afford to woo her in that way, it would be a Malfoy.

Snape shrugged and turned his attention back to Welkin. He had given an Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco, but not from sexual misadventure.

"Draco's not as bad as Lucius," Welkin responded, thinking he had directed his remark about the boy at her.

"I sincerely hope not," Snape agreed. "Shall we finish our drinks and then remove ourselves to a venue where we both might be more comfortable?"

Snape frowned as yet another gaggle of teenage witches trooped by their table unnecessarily throwing simpering looks at him. The celebrity that his status as a dragon slayer had brought to him was wearing thinner by the minute.

"Perhaps the Hog's Head," he suggested. At this late hour most of the customers there would be older and already deeply inebriated and much less inclined to point and stare at him. Was this what it was like for Potter? he wondered. It almost made him regret adding his own scathing remarks to the angst that was usually swirling about the boy.

Welkin looked at him oddly and her eyes widened. "Oh, not the Hog's Head," she said hastily. "Not tonight, anyway. Let's just stay here for a while. We can move to that table over there if you want. It's a little more secluded and you won't be noticed as much there."

Snape narrowed his eyes at her. She was usually so anxious to go there. Why didn't she want to go tonight?

"Speaking of the Hog's Head, I've been meaning to ask you something." Welkin changed the subject quickly, but not completely. "See that girl over there sitting with her friends—the one from the Gryffindor Quidditch squad—the one called Katie Bell? Is she related to Julien Bell, the piano player at the Hog's Head?"

"She is a very distant cousin of his I believe," Snape confirmed. "I do not believe the families associate with one another very often. Understandable, since most of that branch have been Sorted Gryffindor."

"What's wrong with being Gryffindor? What if I'd been Sorted Gryffindor? Would you have kicked me to the curb over something so silly as that?" Welkin demanded.

"Of course not," Snape protested.

"What about Sully? What if he gets Sorted Gryffindor? You're not gonna give him a hard time about it, are you?"

"Sullivan will not be Sorted Gryffindor. He is already exhibiting many outstanding Slytherin traits. He is clearly destined for greatness," Snape said with pride.

"Minerva thinks he needs more discipline," Welkin told him. "He is a little bit rambunctious at times, I guess. If only he wasn't so stubborn."

"That is absurd, Welkin. Sullivan is merely very engaged with his surroundings, as any child of superior intelligence should be. Minerva McGonagall should cease casting these unfounded aspersions upon our child and focus her attention upon that Unholy Trio of miscreants in her own House, whose every bending and breaking of the rules she and Dumbledore continually overlook or attempt to justify."

"Stop preaching at me! I didn't say it—she did! All I said was I wish he wasn't quite so stubborn!" Welkin said.

"Why do you not wish to go to the Hog's Head?" Snape circled back to the original topic. "Why were you asking about Julien Bell? Does it have something to do with him? Has he made improper advances to you? If he has I shall..."

"No, no! Nothing like that! I was just curious, that's all. I don't want to go to the Hog's Head because... well... because I might get talked into singing if we go there and I'd much rather spend time with you," Welkin said.

Part of that was true. She really would rather spend time with him. But the real reason she didn't want to go there actually did involve Julien Bell. Welkin knew that Hermione often met Julien there on the weekends when Welkin was not slated to sing there, and she had promised to keep Hermione's secret as long as Severus didn't ask her about it. If Severus saw them together, he would most certainly ask her about it and she would have to tell him.

Snape continued to observe her suspiciously, noting that her body language did not match what she was telling him. There was something she was concealing. He was certain of it.

"Wells," he said softly, tilting her chin up to make her look at him instead of her drink on the table. "Look at me... Are you telling me the truth? The whole of the truth?"

Shit! Welkin thought. Why did you have to ask me that? The inflection in that voice of his made her feel incredibly aroused and incredibly guilty at the same time. It always weakened her resolve to the point where...

"I don't want to go there because Hermione's probably there with Julien!" Welkin blurted out. A few people at a nearby table turned their heads in their direction and Welkin groaned, hoping they had no idea what Hermione she was talking about. If they did, she was fucked. Hermione would be furious with her.

Snape's voice got even softer and more deliberate. "Do you mean to tell me that Hermione Granger is having an assignation with Julien Bell?"

Welkin scooted her chair closer to his and lowered her own voice. "They're in love, Sevvy. Please don't be mad at me. I promised I wouldn't say anything unless you asked me."

"I am not angry with you, Wells. I am surprised that you would sanction this with your silence. She is still a girl and he is a grown man. But that is not the thing which concerns me. Julien has attempted to join the ranks of the Death Eaters in the recent past. I warned you about that before. You knew that, and yet you said nothing. Miss Granger may be putting herself in danger by associating with him."

"But that was nearly five years ago," Welkin said. "He's never once said anything to me that sounds like someone who is a Voldemort sympathizer. I think he really loves her. He couldn't possibly hurt her... could he?" Welkin finished uncertainly.

"Would you wish to leave that to chance?" Snape asked.

"What can we do about it?" Welkin asked his advice.

"We shall do nothing. Since you are the one who appears to be drawn into the girl's confidence, you must be the one to tell her this information concerning Julien Bell. Then it will be her choice. But at least it will be a choice made holding all the facts," Snape said.

She knew he was right. She dreaded it, but as much as she didn't want to, Welkin knew she would have to be the one to burst Hermione's romantic bubble. But tomorrow would be soon enough. Let them have another happy, uncomplicated night together first.

"Can we just go get Sully and go home? I'm not feeling very festive after all," Welkin said sadly.

"Of course, my love. Wait here and I shall retrieve our cloaks," he told her, sounding contrite that he had ruined her evening out.

On the walk to Violet Murdoch's home, Snape did everything he could think of to bring her out of her low mood. By the time they were walking up the pathway to the short stone fence that surrounded the homey little cottage, he had mostly succeeded. Welkin was laughing softly at his latest witty observation about the denizens of Hogsmeade as he opened the gate for her. She loved it when he was like this. It was almost as if no real trouble existed in their world at all.

When Snape knocked at the door, they heard the sound of footsteps and then saw Violet peep at them through the window before letting them in.

"What are you two doing here so soon?" she asked. "I wasn't expecting you back for at least another two or three hours. Is anything the matter?" she asked with concern. "Come in and have a seat and have a chat."

"Nothing's wrong. We just decided we'd had enough night life and decided to pick him up early," Welkin said. "Can we have our chat some other time, Mrs. Murdoch? Where's Sully? Asleep?"

"I'm afraid not. When he realized you'd slipped away on him, he threw a right proper little tantrum at first, but then he settled down and decided to explore a bit," she smiled at them.

Sully used to crawl to explore, but now had advanced to pulling himself upright onto his feet and making his way around a room by holding onto various objects. At the sound of their voices in the entry, he had come to investigate, and the little mop of dark hair appeared around the corner of the door as he clung to it, wobbling on his feet a bit.

Sullivan Snape's dark eyes darted to his father's tall, darkly cloaked figure first, then back to his mother.

"Hey, Sully! Are you ready to go home? Come to Mama! We'll get your nice warm coat on and get your things and go home. Would you like that?"

Welkin squatted down and held her arms out for him to totter into.

Sully stood staring at the woman who had tricked and abandoned him earlier, as if undecided whether to accept her embrace. A pout began to form on his lips and his face began to flush as a whimper escaped.

"Don't pout, Sully. Mama's back. She just went to play with Daddy for a while. Don't be mad, baby."

Sully didn't look at all as if he was buying that explanation as a valid excuse. He bounced up and down unsteadily on his feet, still clutching the doorjamb, and began to cry, the tears spilling out of his eyes like rain from a storm cloud. He lost his grip and wobbled once before crashing to the floor on his well-padded bottom.

Apparently angered even more by his inability to control his movements, Sully's face grew red and his brow knit as he frowned.

Welkin started towards him to scoop him up. She had almost reached him when he looked up at her, red-faced with baby fury and shouted one four-letter expletive quite loudly and clearly.

"My word!" Mrs. Murdoch looked shocked as she covered her mouth with one hand.

Welkin, on the other hand, looked guilty for the second time this evening. The word was one she was quite familiar with since she used it herself so often.

She looked up at Severus as she cradled the crying Sully.

"Oh, Severus! I'm so sorry! I promise I'll try not to say it in front of him anymore!"

Severus bent and helped her to her feet, Sully sandwiched between them.

"Welkin," he began severely, and she waited for the other shoe to fall apprehensively, expecting another lecture from him.

"At least we know one thing from this incident," he continued. He paused until she had to ask.

"What do we know?"

"At least we know that, although Sullivan still has trouble with his ess sounds," Snape announced surprisingly calmly, "he obviously has no trouble at all with his eff sounds."
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Welkin in the Wizarding World (COMPLETED)

As The Twig Is Bent