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. |
Welkin avoids Severus and introduces Charity Burbage and Fred and George Weasley to the wonders of her contraband bottle of Jagermeister. Snape is goaded into action by her behavior, and by Albus, the spritely master manipulator.
For the rest of the afternoon, Welkin studiously avoided running into Snape, and since she had very little appetite for food, avoided the Great Hall at suppertime altogether. The thought of sitting next to Severus made her stomach a little queasy anyway, knowing how awkward it would be, at least for her.
She wandered the hallways, took another trip back to the library, since it had been de-Malfoyed, and eventually ended up back at her room, where she threw herself on the bed, cried for awhile, then lectured herself harshly for crying.
She contemplated the problem of what to do if Severus showed up tonight, expecting hot Wizard sex from her. Who was she kidding with that, if he showed up shit? Of course he would show up expecting sex. He showed up every night expecting it, and getting it.
Welkin was not in the mood to have an ‘honest conversation’ with him about what was bothering her, and she certainly didn’t feel like arguing about it. The only logical solution, she decided, was to evade the issue in every way, at least for tonight.
"I need a drink," she announced to herself.
"You need lots of drinks," she answered herself. There it was. Snape had officially pushed her over the edge to crazy. She was talking to herself.
Opening the chifforobe in the corner, she retrieved her bottle of Jagermeister, her gold standard of intoxication, and went in search of a drinking companion.
Charity Burbage, teacher of the Muggle Studies curriculum at Hogwarts, heard rapping at her door and opened it to find Welkin Cooper standing there, hugging a large green and orange bottle, which was festooned with a stag.
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Well, I didn’t have any particular…"
"Good," Welkin said, grabbing her arm and pulling her out the door. "Come have a drink with me."
Charity had approached Welkin during the Yule Ball about the possibility of her being a guest speaker for her class at the beginning of the next term. It was to be a sort of Q & A session on Muggle culture with her students, and Welkin had tentatively agreed, contingent on whether she was still at Hogwarts after the first of the year. Welkin figured this meant Charity owed her one.
"Where can we go that we won’t run into a lot of other faculty?" Welkin chose her words carefully, not wanting to admit that she was trying to avoid Snape.
"Most of the students have already gone home for the holidays. Perhaps the Gryffindor common room would be quiet. I don’t expect there would be many people there."
When they arrived, that appeared to be true, with just a smattering of students dotting the large room here and there in clusters, and no faculty members at all. Welkin chose a table close to the fireplace and extracted two shotglasses from her pockets, placing them on the tabletop with the green bottle.
"This really would be better ice-cold, and I wish we had some beer. I usually like a beer for a chaser."
"I can’t do anything about the beer," Charity said apologetically, "but I certainly can about the temperature of your bottle."
Charity called over one of the older students, who was relaxing at a table fairly close to them. "Could you make this bottle ice-cold, young man?" she requested. It would give him an opportunity to practice his skills.
"Jagermeister," he grinned, recognizing it immediately. "I’ve heard of it. Where did you get that, Professor Burbage? They don’t have it in Hogsmeade."
"I’m the guilty party who brought in the contraband," Welkin said. “I’m one of those big, bad Muggles your mother probably warned you about. Can you help us get it really cold?"
He grinned again at her description of herself. His mother actually had warned him about Muggles when he was younger, not that it usually did much good what she warned him about.
"Do I get a taste?" he bargained.
"Well, okay, but you have to get your own glass. I only have two," Welkin told him.
He pulled out his wand and executed a charm over the bottle to cool it until the surface of the glass bottle was nice and frosty.
"I’ll be right back. Don’t start without me," he said, hurrying back to his table, where he retrieved his water glass, and his identical twin brother, also carrying his glass with him expectantly.
"What are your names, boys?" Welkin asked, waving away Charity’s protests at Welkin’s apparent intentions to pervert these two youths of Hogwarts with their first taste of demon Jagermeister.
"Weasley…I’m Fred…and I’m George," they grinned, sharing the introduction.
Welkin paused in pouring her first round, and what she was intending to be the boys’ only round. "Is Ron your little brother then?"
"Lit-tle brother," they grinned in unison again. God, how Ron would hate that. "Yes, he’s our lit-tle brother," Fred confirmed.
Welkin motioned to everyone to take up their glasses. "Alrighty then, I usually shoot the first round, and then sip subsequent ones. You may do that if you like, Charity, but I’m strictly a shooter tonight…and you absolutely have to shoot this first one.”
Charity stared at the unfamiliar brown liquid in her shotglass, looking puzzled.
“You do know what shooting a drink means, don’t you?” Welkin asked her.
“I’m not really sure,” Charity admitted.
“Je-zus Christ on a bicycle!” Welkin exclaimed at her innocence. “It means you drink it all in one gulp. Just follow my lead.
"What shall we drink to?" Welkin considered. "To family, near and far," she decided.
"To family," they repeated, clinking glasses before downing the dark elixir. Charity sputtered a little and put her hand to her mouth, grimacing. "What’s in that?" she asked, looking a little ill.
"A little essence of God," Welkin said, smiling.
Welkin had finished her fourth shot, while Charity was pretending to slowly sip from her second shotglass. The Weasley twins had begged and pleaded so charmingly that Welkin had given in and apportioned them each a second shot.
“But that’s it! I don’t want Dumbledore on my case. I promised him I wouldn’t ‘fraternize with the students to their detriment’,” Welkin quoted him. She hadn’t been sure exactly what he had meant when he said it, but it had been awfully funny to her.
Welkin leaned back in her chair and grinned. She was starting to feel a great deal more relaxed.
"My lips are starting to tingle. That’s a good sign," she announced, running her tongue over them experimentally. She poured another shot for herself and started to top off Charity’s glass, but Charity blocked it with her hand, in alarm.
"Not much of a drinker, are you, Sweet Charity?" Welkin observed, before downing her fifth shot.
"Mmmmmmm…” Welkin closed her eyes with a beatific smile on her face. When she opened them, Charity had the odd impression that their color had changed, becoming a deeper green with little flecks of gold.
"Sweet Charity, did you know they wrote a musical about you?" Welkin asked.
Before Charity could answer, Welkin suddenly launched robustly into an a capella version of the song Big Spender.
The Weasley twins grinned at one another. Whether they got more Jagermeister or not, this was getting highly entertaining.
Forty minutes earlier, unnoticed by Welkin or the others, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape had entered the common room together, taking up residence at a table across the room, and had been watching their every move.
"Is she letting those boys drink?" Minerva asked, sounding slightly horrified.
Just then, Welkin started to sing at the top of her voice. She jumped up from her chair and twirled it around, straddling it at first, and proceeded to act out the entire song. She was surprisingly agile for someone who should have been in a Jager-induced stupor by now. She finished, standing on the seat of the chair and twitching her hips from side to side, her vocals rising to an impassioned crescendo. When she was through, she dropped back down into her seat and took up her glass again.
Fred and George applauded wildly, as did others in the room. "Bravo! Bravo!" the Weasleys shouted theatrically.
Fred quickly reached to pour her another shot, and George pushed it towards Welkin across the table. "Have another."
"Don’t mind if I do, boys." She grinned and stood up, hefting the newly-filled shotglass.
"Those who are about to die, salute you," she solemnly intoned the ancient gladiator’s salute. She threw her head back and let the precious licorice-tasting elixir slide down her throat.
"That’s six!" the Weasleys shouted in unison, and poured themselves a drink, as Welkin was occupied in her own little world now, and no longer seemed to mind.
"Six?" Minerva continued to fuss. "Oh, Albus, shouldn’t we put a stop to this?"
"No, I don’t think so," Albus replied calmly. "I don’t think any real harm is being done, and she has her reasons for her behavior, I’m sure," Albus said, looking accusingly at Snape. "Besides, I’m rather enjoying the floor show."
Snape was doing a slow burn inside. He’d spent the afternoon and early evening looking for Welkin, to no avail, until he began to suspect that she was deliberately avoiding him. And now, to find her here, drinking with Weasleys, singing and dancing, and Albus intimating that her behavior was somehow his fault, was entirely too much to bear with good grace.
Welkin dedicated shot number seven to one of her holy trinity of singers, Aretha, Queen of Soul, and dancing around the table, she sang Chain of Fools in a husky alto.
Belting out the lyrics, hips shaking energetically in time to the music in her head, she alternately sang to each Weasley, who were both on their feet now, dancing with her.
Fred and George had reasoned that, despite the bracelet on her wrist staking his claim, Snape probably wouldn’t want to chance the repercussions from killing students, just because they were dancing with Welkin.
Despite his outer façade of calm, Snape was livid. Only Albus seemed to realize it. Dumbledore wondered what it would take to wipe that resolutely impassive look off of his face?
"An impressive voice, wouldn’t you say, Severus? Miss Cooper appears to have a number of unexpected talents."
Snape glared at him, but said nothing to his expert goading.
Welkin noticed that she seemed to have collected a small, but very appreciative audience, all having moved closer to their table, except for a group across the room.
What a wonderful time she was having. The ‘Holy Jager’ had worked its magic and Welkin was officially in love with everybody on the planet. Who were those killjoys not joining in? She squinted at them as a Weasley thrust another overly full shotglass into her hand. That looked like…
Snape saw the precise moment that Welkin spotted him at their table. He gave her a warning frown. She stood poised for a moment, considering the glass in her hand. She looked at his disapproving face, defiantly threw back her head, and downed shot number eight.
"That’s eight!" the Weasleys shouted, and everyone applauded again.
"Someone really should do something about her, Albus," Minerva insisted.
"Perhaps someone will," Albus smiled at Snape, who was practically squirming in his seat now.
Welkin swayed a little on her feet, considering what should be her next selection. "Another," she demanded. She stared directly at Severus and downed the ninth shot as soon as it was poured. "That’s nine!" the Weasleys shouted.
Welkin’s personal record was ten shots, which had won her a plethora of Jagermeister paraphernalia at the bar where the contest was held, much to the admiration of a surprisingly gentlemanly group of biker guys, who offered to pay her tab, and intimidated the other customers so much that Welkin got to play anything she wanted on the jukebox all night long. Welkin hadn’t even known there was a contest that night. Maybe she would break that record tonight, if she didn’t pass out first.
Welkin slowly launched into Chaka Kahn’s Tell Me Something Good, taking several steps towards their table and extending an arm dramatically to point right at Snape.
You ain’t got no kind of…feelin’ inside…
I got somethin’ that’ll sure ’nuff set your stuff on fire…
You refuse to put…anything before your pride…
What I got…will…knock…all your… pride aside…
Tell me somethin’ good…tell me that you love me…yeah…
Tell me somethin’ good…tell me that you like it…**
"You should have told her about Lily, Severus," Dumbledore whispered to him. "Are you really going to let…"
Snape was already on his feet, rapidly approaching Welkin with long, quick strides, a furious look on his face. If he had that look on his face when he was coming down a hallway at Hogwarts, it would have emptied it immediately of both students and staff.
"That will be quite enough!" he enunciated crisply, grasping Welkin by the wrist. "You are coming with me…now!"
It was rare for Snape to raise his voice under any circumstance. Unfortunately, Welkin didn’t know that, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered to her if she did. She was not about to let him order her around like a servant.
“You’re not the boss of me! You let me go! I’m not going anywhere with you, you bastard!” Welkin insisted stubbornly. “I’m staying here with my friends!”
Unfortunately, despite her bravado, Welkin didn’t have either magic, or the upper body strength, to prevent Snape from rudely aborting her pleasant evening of intentional dissipation.
There was total silence from everyone else in the room, as Snape jerked her along behind him like a misbehaving child. The only sounds were from Welkin, still yelling her protests at him, all the way out the door.
A collective burst of laughter filled the air when they were gone.
Even Minerva couldn’t help laughing at what had just happened. In all the long years that Minerva had worked with him at Hogwarts, she had rarely seen Severus Snape look so agitated and behave so brashly in public as he had done in the past several days in the company of their unwilling guest in the North Tower.
It was starting to become very obvious to Minerva that Snape’s interest in the exasperating Miss Cooper might be much more than sexual. That poor girl, Minerva thought. If Snape was besotted with her, how could she possibly know what she was letting herself in for?
Hopefully the woman would have the good sense not to trifle with Snape. He was not the sort of man who would take rejection well. If she had declared herself to him, Welkin Cooper had better be prepared to follow through with a serious commitment. Snape was not the sort of man who would settle for anything less.
Once out of earshot of everyone else, Snape berated Welkin all the way back to her room, which shut her up in a hurry.
When she seemed reluctant to enter her room with him, he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way, kicking the door shut behind him and dumping her angrily in the middle of her bed.
"Whatever were you thinking, making such a spectacle of yourself?" he demanded, scowling at her darkly.
"Not at all like your precious Lily, I’m sure!" Welkin shouted at him before she had a chance to think about it and censor herself. "Your perfect, precious Lily, who you’d trade me for in a heartbeat!" She spat the words at him ferociously.
"Is that what this is all about?"
Snape finally realized that Dumbledore was right. He should have told Welkin about Lily the minute she had asked him. He had almost made the second biggest mistake of his life.
"Oh God, I can’t…stand…this!" Welkin sobbed as she rolled over on her side and started on a crying jag. "I’m jealous…of a poor…dead woman!" She cried even harder. "I’m a terrible person…"
Seeing her so distraught drained the anger from Snape. Welkin’s crying was unnerving, and he wasn’t exactly sure what he should do about it. Soothing an hysterical woman was a situation that was definitely far outside his personal experience.
He finally moved to sit beside her, and pulled her into his arms, hoping this would have a calming effect. It didn’t. She cried even louder.
Very well, he thought. If it was truth about Lily Evans that Welkin wanted, she would have it.
"It’s true," he admitted, in his low, silky voice. "I will always love Lily."
Welkin’s heart sank at his use of the word always. How could she ever hope to compete with a dead woman, who would always remain perfect in his mind and heart.
"I will always love Lily," he repeated. Severus drew a ragged breath and hoped that what he said next would be well-received, since it had taken him far too long to say it to her. "…just as I will always love you."
Abruptly, Welkin stopped her sobbing. She raised her head to blink at him. "Say…say again?"
"I shall love you, dearest Welkin, always," Severus repeated quietly.
"Oh, Severus, I love you too, more than anything in this world!" she finally admitted.
Welkin woke up feeling like the happiest woman alive, and remarkably hangover-free, after her run to the bathroom in the middle of the night to bring up half the Jager she had consumed.
She had thrown up copiously, brushed her teeth and tongue mercilessly, gargled some mint-flavored mouthwash and then slipped back into bed, snuggling against her Severus happily as his arms enfolded her again, with nary a sarcastic comment to her.
Now, still encircled by his arms, she lay against his chest and listened to his steady breathing. Outside the window she could see the swirl of snowflakes against the wind. It was only two days before Christmas, and barely a week since she’d come here. It was amazing how much things could change forever in so short a time.
His hand stroking her bare shoulder and arm let Welkin know that Severus was awake.
Severus felt his desire for Welkin stir again but quelled it. He contented himself with continuing to stroke her arm, and feeling her soft, warm body pressed against his.
"Good morning, sweetness," she told him. "It’s snowing. We’re going to have a white Christmas." Welkin had decided to call him sweetness, after the idiom, sweetness and light. She thought he might appreciate the irony attached to it.
Welkin had been consistently peppering her conversation with ‘we’s’ ever since his declaration of love to her last night, and Snape felt a little thrill each time she used the term. Part of a ‘we’ was not something he had ever expected to be, since his love for Lily had been denied so many years ago.
“I should like to discuss our plans for solidifying the commitment we have stated to each other,” Snape announced suddenly.
“What do you mean, solidifying it?” Welkin asked, knowing full well what he meant, but not expecting this subject to have come up quite so soon.
“Do not play coy with me, Welkin. I am referring to matrimony.”
“I’m not being coy, I’m being floored that you would even bring it up this early. We only met each other four days ago. Why would you want to get married? Everything is just great the way it is. Let’s not mess with it. It would be a bad idea.”
Welkin quickly changed the subject. "How do you usually spend Christmas, Severus?"
"I have a house at Spinner’s End. I am sometimes there through the holidays, and generally always during the summer."
"When are we leaving for Spinner’s End?" Welkin perked up with interest.
"The house is in a state of disrepair," Severus said. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable here at Hogwarts."
"I don’t care if it’s not perfect looking," Welkin insisted. "When do we leave?" She sat up in bed and smiled at him eagerly.
That was probably true, Snape thought, since she certainly didn’t seem to care that he was not perfect in appearance. Dumbledore probably would not concern himself with him taking Welkin, since he would be at her side constantly.
"By midday then," he relented, as he found himself doing more and more often with her. "You can pack a few things after breakfast."
"Breakfast? I’m…"
"Starving," Severus finished for her wryly. He started to rise from the bed, but she pulled him back, pushing him down and straddling atop him. "Not…just…yet…" She smiled at him wickedly.
"Late again," Dumbledore noted, as Snape seated Welkin. Apparently, whatever conflict had existed over Lily had now been righted.
"It’s my fault this time," Welkin conceded, but managed to restrain herself from elaborating this morning.
"Perhaps after breakfast we can talk more about our thoughts on how to return you to the Muggle world," Dumbledore tested the waters.
Welkin paused with a forkful of food halfway to her mouth and looked at him directly. "Oh, that won’t be necessary. I’m not leaving now. I’m staying here."
When Dumbledore said nothing, she added, "I can stay here, if I want to, can’t I?"
"That too would have to be arranged with the authorities, if that’s what you truly desire."
"That’s what I truly desire," Welkin said, looking at Severus. Her free hand slid across the table to grasp his and give it a little squeeze.
"That is also what I desire," Snape added. He desired a lot more than that, but was finding Welkin unenthused about what he had in mind.
"At any rate, Severus and I are going away for the holidays today, so it’ll just have to wait," Welkin said.
"Of course," Dumbledore regarded them both. "There are also other things we need to discuss before you leave, Severus."
Snape nodded, a brief shadow of a much less pleasant thought passing like a dark cloud over his face, before his attention returned to Welkin.
"I can’t believe that she’s able to move, much less shovel in the breakfast the way she’s doing," Fred Weasley observed incredulously to his two brothers and Harry.
The Weasleys' father was due to pick the entire clan up before noon. Harry, as usual, had been invited to spend the holidays with his adopted family. Hermione had left the day before to spend Christmas with her family in the Muggle world.
"Snape’s a lucky man to have a woman like that fancy him," George added. “Do you see the way she’s looking at him? What does she see in him?"
"Maybe she likes it rough," Fred grinned at his twin. "Did you see the way he jerked her out of there last night?"
"Stop it. You’re making my head hurt," Ron said, trying to dispel the horrendously disturbing image of Snape having sex with anyone from his mind.
"Do you think she polishes his knob? Can’t you just picture that?" Fred launched into his best nasally Snape imitation. "Miss Coo-per…I find your technique in this procedure sadly lacking. You will stay after class and I shall attempt to elucidate to you the finer points of…polishing my wand."
Harry laughed despite himself, because Fred sounded just like the pompous bastard.
Ron clamped his hands over his virginal ears to shut out the disturbing prattle, as his brothers seemed ready to talk about Miss Cooper and sex the rest of the day.
"Do you think she’s a screamer?"
“She has declared herself to you?” Dumbledore asked.
“Yes, and I to her, but she balks if I broach any suggestion of confirming our commitment through the traditional ceremony. I do not understand her reluctance.” Snape paced in front of Dumbledore’s desk, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, regarding the floor with a frown of displeasure.
“Some women, as well as men, can be reluctant to relinquish their freedom to another person. Although I believe that her feelings for you are genuine, Miss Cooper is quite independent. I think it might behoove you to try coaxing her, rather than pressuring her, Severus. While you are at Spinner’s End, you can work on softening her resolve,” Albus said. “Perhaps by the time you have returned, I will have a solution to your dilemma worked out, if you have not already done so.”
Albus looked at Snape over the rims of his glasses. “Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked him.
The look in Snape’s eyes told him everything he needed to know even before he spoke the words.
“I am positive. I wish to take Miss Cooper as my bride.”
Author's Notes: **Song attribution - Tell Me Something Good, by Rufus and Chaka Kahn - released 1974 - written by Stevie Wonder - ABC Records
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