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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
- 68
- 69
- 70
Return to Hogwarts
Snape and Welkin return to Hogwarts when he is named headmaster. It is not a pleasant homecoming for either of them. Voldemort wants Amycus Carrow to keep tabs on Welkin and congratulates himself as his plans seem to be unfolding on target in most ways. Severus demonstrates a unique sexual skill to amuse Welkin.

Welkin comforted Snape following the traumatic death of Charity Burbage when Voldemort made a gruesome example of her to anyone who might express an opposing viewpoint concerning the inferiority of Muggles. Welkin calmed Snape's emotional agitation when George Weasley was permanently maimed by an errant blast from his wand as members of the Order were moving Harry Potter to safety. She reassured him and supported him every step of the way during the long months whenever doubts crept into the back of his mind and threatened to convince him that he did not have what it took to see this mission though. Her steadfast belief in him never faltered.
And this is her reward, he thought bitterly. To walk behind me, acting the part of my chattel, and to be subject to the hatred they dare not direct at me in the months to come. She should be walking ahead of me.
That he could only reward the woman he loved for her love and support by being obliged to drag her down to this lowly, deplorable public image was the most unbearable thing of all to Severus Snape. He loathed being the reason for Welkin's degradation in the eyes of most in the Wizarding world. Welkin herself did not seem to take notice of her diminished dignity in the eyes of others. If she did, she did not voice it. She spoke to him only of his dignity and worth, and she praised his every action as noble and selfless almost to a ridiculous degree. Now, she played her new role of fake subservience better than he had expected that she could. Even now, marching behind him, her mind reached out to him and lightly touched and entwined with his in encouragement as they walked, her gait a little faster to keep up with his longer masculine stride.
His nervousness hidden from all but Welkin, Snape stalked briskly up the broad stone steps to Hogwarts with his robes billowing about him dramatically. He marched through the massive wooden doorway, which was standing open in anticipation, and through the high-ceilinged, dimly lit front hall with Welkin following him closely but silently. Despite his inner turmoil, his face held its familiar impassive, stony, unreadable expression. The sharp clicking of the heels of their shoes reverberated in the cavernous entry as they marched back into the breach—back into the place they had both fled in disgrace months ago. They crossed the short distance where an already mutinous-looking group of witches and wizards stood assembled, and they halted.
Snape met the mixture of nervous, frightened, and openly hostile faces from the assembled staff members with a look of well-practiced benign disregard. The silence stretched, and as it became apparent that even the most insincere greeting or acknowledgment of his new position as headmaster was not forthcoming, he broke the simmering, hostile silence himself.
“As this year’s students are due to return to Hogwarts tomorrow, I see no reason to prolong this assemblage when you clearly all have duties to attend to. I shall be—”
“When what remains of our students return tomorrow, you mean,” Minerva McGonagall interrupted rudely to correct him. “Those who haven’t been forced to flee with their parents, or whose parents have chosen not to send them back to Hogwarts this term for their own safety.”
Snape heard, but did not initially respond to, the fleeting ripple of murmured approval that went through the others when Minerva made her bold, challenging statement. His cold, glittering eyes swept over them slowly, as if he suddenly had all of the time in the world, and he was considering his options with each of them.
He took one step forward and leveled his gaze on Minerva at last. “Truancy and enrollment matters will no longer be among your duties here at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall. I can assure you that the figures are quite adequate to keep you all well employed at present. I am sure that the proper efforts will be made by the Ministry to... engage... those parents who are reluctant to avail their children of the opportunity to continue their education at Hogwarts.”
“The Ministry? My faith in the Ministry’s judgment about certain things has been shaken considerably recently,” Minerva responded. Her eyes blazed at him hotly with barely suppressed fire. “Albus Dumbledore would never let the Ministry dictate our rules and traditions or anything else that happens at Hogwarts, if he could help it!”
Behind him and slightly to his left, he heard Welkin draw a quick intact of breath, but otherwise she remained silent, just as they had agreed.
Severus had expected Minerva to make a direct challenge to his appointment by the Ministry. He was prepared.
“I shall remind you, Professor McGonagall, that the former headmaster is dead,” Snape said in a soft, quiet voice that was also somehow dripping with menace. “ Dead and buried... I would suggest that you occupy yourself less with maintaining the traditions of the previous headmaster and more with the reason you are currently employed. You are charged to instruct our youth and provide an encouraging and... safe environment for their lessons. Nothing more or less than that is either required... or expected of you.”
Snape stepped back again and aligned himself physically with Welkin for the first time. Her subjugation to him was amply illustrated to them all, he felt, by her continued silence. It was not a quality she had been known for when they were previously at Hogwarts. Neither would she have ever walked behind him.
“I would also strongly suggest that the remainder of the staff take those duties to heart as well... should you wish to remain employed here at Hogwarts in the future," he added pointedly.
He clasped his hands behind his back and straightened his back even more. "I shall be making an announcement of some new appointments and reassignments at the opening feast. Should anyone feel the need to abandon their duties and their concerns for the children of Hogwarts to others, you must advise me of your decision before tomorrow morning and I will assign a replacement. You are all dismissed at present,” Snape concluded crisply. His posture shifted again, and he folded his arms across his upper abdomen with a finality that did not invite further remarks or discussion.
As they all filed out of the hall, some more reluctantly than others, Minerva, her lips white with suppressed anger, turned to give one final resentful look at Snape and Welkin before stalking up the marble stairway.

Yaxley was not sure exactly why Amycus Carrow was being given the job of watching Snape's wife, when Voldemort had apparently discounted all of the warnings about her that Yaxley had brought him in the past. In his opinion, Lord Voldemort would have been better served keeping a closer eye on Snape himself instead of his perpetually befuddled wife. However, it was not wise to question Voldemort about these things. He was more than prone to regard such inquisitiveness as insubordination, and Yaxley was smarter than that.
"Make it clear to him that he is to report any unusual movements she makes, and to make certain that she remains at Hogwarts where I will have access to her. I do not want her disappearing suddenly and making it necessary to track her new location," Voldemort instructed.
"Of course, my lord. He will make sure she stays at Hogwarts. I'll make certain he understands the consequences." The gravelly voiced man tried not to speculate mentally on why the Dark Lord was so intent on maintaining such scrutiny on Snape's wife. Thinking such things in his presence was as dangerous as voicing them. It was tantamount to questioning Voldemort aloud, since he could read their thoughts with alarming accuracy.
"No physical harm is to be visited upon her," Voldemort continued. "Neither by magic nor by physical force. If he damages her in any way, he will not live long enough to regret it," Voldemort said with as little concern as if he were announcing it was time for tea. "Neither he nor his sister," Voldemort added.
The dour-faced man did not flinch externally, but he had no doubt that Voldemort would make good on his threat. Perhaps he would even extend it to include others in the Carrow family, despite their years of loyalty in his service. No one was immune to the Dark Lord's caprices. Yaxley had survived and risen through the ranks by understanding that and acting on it.
"Of course, my lord. No harm will come to her," he said again, sounding as confident as he always did.
Voldemort dismissed Yaxley and turned away to the window, looking out over the growing desolation of the grounds of Malfoy Manor with as close of an approximation of pleasure as he could feel in his shriveled, deadened heart. Despoiling the flora of the usually lush grounds with his dark magic was just one more way of thrusting a thorn into Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's mercenary, status-seeking hearts. He had made sure of Lucius's release from Azkaban, but not as a reward. He had made that more than clear to them by his subsequent behavior towards Lucius. He had done it because it pleased him to be seen as a granter of mercy to his followers, while giving him the daily access to make an example of Lucius and his family. Failure could not be tolerated among his troops. Lucius had failed, and he and his family would pay the inevitable price. However, not before he had been humiliated and suffered sufficiently.
His thin, reptilian lips stretched into a grimace of a smile. Everything was going well. Dumbledore was dead and he possessed the Elder Wand, although its power level was disappointing, and that puzzled him. No matter. He would figure it out soon and correct it.
He had assured his own immortality with his horcruxes. His power was crushing the Ministry and its tendrils were entwining their way through the British Wizarding world as his first step towards world domination. Through Snape, he exerted his influence at Hogwarts, and he could therefore influence or intimidate all of those impressionable young minds to join his cause. Hogwarts would supply the magical troops for his reign for generations to come. The woman whose body and magical lineage would provide him with his dynasty and even more followers was secure at Hogwarts. Only one thing continued to elude him, and that was Harry Potter. Nevertheless, he could not hide forever. Soon there would be no one or nothing left to shield him and his protectors, and the final impediment to his new regime would be dead. With Potter's death, all of the foolish false hopes that rallied others around the Chosen One would be destroyed.
All resistance will be crushed. Whatever Muggles I allow to live following the Great Purge will take their rightful place as our inferiors in bondage to their betters, and I, Lord Voldemort, will be known for what I truly am... the mightiest wizard of all time.

"Why did they have to get rid of our things, Severus?" Welkin asked. "They could have just put them into storage. Our beautiful marriage bed is gone... and Sully's cradle. I know they think we're scum, but what right did they have to get rid of Sully's things?"
"It is of no consequence, my love," Snape assured her. He pulled her against him comfortingly in the new, more spacious bed he had had moved into the headmaster's living quarters for them. "Do not think on it. We still have Sullivan, and everything else can be replaced."
"I know... I know. We still have Sully... even if everybody thinks that we don't." She pursed her lips in a pout, remembering another of this week's many disappointments. "Minerva blames me for Sully's death," she complained, no longer able to hold in her feelings about it.
"Has she said that to you?" Snape asked in genuine surprise. He would not have thought that Minerva, of all people, would be so cruel to Welkin about the loss of a child.
"No... not exactly... but she won't talk to me, and the way she looks at me, I just know what she's thinking. That if I'd stayed at Hogwarts that night that Sully wouldn't have died."
"He did not die," Snape reiterated unnecessarily. "If anything, his life was saved by hiding him away."
"I know that. But it doesn't make it any easier that everybody else thinks he died, and I can't tell them any differently. And not a one of those sanctimonious assholes have even offered their condolences on his death!"
"I am... sorry," Snape told her, not knowing what else to say. He sounded so contrite when he said it, that it broke Welkin out of her own private pity party over her litany of real and imagined insults.
"It's not your fault," she said quickly. "I'm just pissed off at them all and wallowing in it a little. I don't give a damn what they think. I'll be okay... really. Your week had to be much worse than mine. How's it going for you?"
"The Carrows were not popular appointments, suffice it to say," Snape said wryly. "I was inundated with discreet but adamant protests against them."
"Can't say that I blame them for that. Those two are creepy. Creepy and mean. I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't some incest going on with that pair too. They're both so awful that nobody else could possibly want to fuck either one of them," Welkin concluded. "But if the teachers had half a brain they'd know you don't really have much choice about appointing them. They just want to have it both ways. They want to think you're a Voldemort puppet and hate you for that, but they also want to be able to oh-so-virtuously blame you for the decisions you're forced to make as headmaster—as if you had a fucking choice!" She snorted with derision. "What a bunch of hypocrites! And if you say it is of no consequence, I swear I'm gonna smack you a good one, since you won't let me smack any of them," she warned.
"At last... something to look forward to in this untenable situation," Snape jested, quirking an eyebrow at her as he suddenly grasped her slender-boned wrist.
Welkin thought about mentioning to Severus her impression that Amycus Carrow was shadowing her around the castle, but decided against it. Perhaps she had been imagining it. Maybe it was mere coincidence that he seemed to appear around any number of dark corners in the corridors. Amycus skulked around spying on everyone looking for an excuse to 'discipline' them. She would tell Severus when she had more to base it on than her own active imagination.
"Don't you arch that sexy eyebrow at me, mister. Not unless you're prepared to follow through on it. I don't think either one of us could take one more disappointment this week," she warned.
Encouraged by her flirtation, Snape pressed her down in the bed firmly and positioned himself to stare into her eyes. Her dark pupils expanded immediately in the field of deep green, and her compressed lips softened, slackened and parted in anticipation.
Her round-hipped, womanly form and the full breasts that trembled beneath him now gave Welkin the appearance of a mythological fertility goddess to Severus. She was goddess of his home and hearth—goddess of his love and licentiousness—goddess of his light and his dark and yearning heart. She was his personal force of nature. He would have taken poison from her hand if she commanded it.
"Will you do your trick for me again before we make love?" Welkin grinned up at him expectantly.
Severus felt a brief glow of victory that she more often referred to it now as making love, instead of her accustomed use of the more vulgar word for it.
"It is not a 'trick', Welkin," he corrected. He rolled away and sat upright in the bed. He leaned against the headboard and clasped his hands behind his head casually. "Tricks are what fake Muggle magicians do. What I do is a miraculous talent."
He could tell she had a sharp, deflating comeback on the tip of her tantalizing tongue, but she unexpectedly reined it in.
"I'll say it is. I've never seen anything like it. So... will you do it for me?"
Snape hesitated just long enough to make it interesting for her. "Very well," he conceded at last. "But only the one time. I have other things planned for you this evening."
Welkin squirmed off her pillow and wriggled around like an overly excited puppy until she had planted herself on her knees by his thighs. She propped her head up with her chin against the knuckles of her closed fists and stared with rapt concentration at the exact spot where his crotch should be beneath his nightshirt.
"Okay, I'm ready!" she announced, and gave an involuntary, apparently unconscious wiggle of her ass.
"If you do not stop twitching your arse in that provocative manner, I cannot be expected to assure that the source of this exhibition will be completely of my own doing," Snape warned.
"Sorry," she said. She grabbed one of the light blankets from the foot of the bed and draped it over her rear before making herself comfortable again. "Is that better?" she asked.
"Somewhat. You may begin counting, " he instructed.
"Okay... Ten... nine..." Snape's nightshirt quivered slightly. "Eight... seven..." Beneath the grey fabric there was one small jerking motion, and then another. "Six... five..." The fabric began to rise rapidly. "Four... three..." The fabric popped up on cue, forming a stiff tent. Severus smirked at her as she widened her eyes in wonder.
"That's amazing. I've never seen anybody with as much concentration and control over their body as that," Welkin said. "I've never known another man who could make it—"
Welkin stopped abruptly as she realized what she was about to say. She looked up at Severus anxiously just in time to see his smirk change into a distinct frown.
"And you never shall see another man perform such 'tricks'," he growled. "Only me." He grasped her by the arms and pulled her against him roughly. The darkness in the depths of his eyes swirled.
"There'll never be anyone else I want a performance from," Welkin crooned soothingly to him. "I have a permanent box seat to the Theatre of Severus. Admission: all my love forever."
The swirling darkness inside him calmed, and Severus buried his face against one of her gently sloping shoulders as he tugged down the fabric of her chemise to uncover her to his worshipful sight. The delicate bones of her wrists and ankles and her innocent face with its mercurial, childlike expressions gave her a softer, more vulnerable look that appealed to him as much as her woman's body. At times, Severus enjoyed thinking of her that way. She was a sweet child who required his protection and indulgence. He knew it was not exactly true, but it pleased him to think so. Welkin could be fiercer than most when aroused. She was a rare and precious creature like Fawkes the phoenix. Like Fawkes, Welkin could fend for herself, if need be.
"Fly with me, my love," he requested, as the image he had conjured of the phoenix and his need for her overwhelmed him. He savored the look of wanton need she gave him in return before burying his face in the softness of her exposed breasts.
"Now that's the kind of flight I can handle," Welkin laughed.
She buried her own face against the side of his neck and began to nibble. He trembled against her and sighed as the blood coursed through him and stiffened his cock in the more normal and infinitely more pleasurable way.

"I always did like this office," Welkin said. She wandered around the room looking at and toying with what things of Albus's still remained there. "I wonder what happened to Fawkes. I hope Fawkes is okay."
"I do not think you have to worry about the phoenix," Snape told her. "Fawkes is more than able to fend for himself, I expect." He rose from the headmaster's chair and followed her as she stopped flitting about and came to rest in front of Albus's portrait. The ornate frame appeared to be empty.
"Where is he, I wonder?" she asked. She knew it was not really Albus, but it was also more than a mere portrait. Albus's image could be anywhere in Hogwarts where there was a painting. Maybe even other places as long as there was the refuge of a frame for him. Would his image be more powerful than the others who slumbered among the many portraits in this office? He had been an immensely powerful wizard in life. What would make anyone think that he would not be powerful in death as well?
Snape stood behind her as she stared into the empty frame, trying to see if she could spot Albus sitting in the shadows in the background of the picture. "It would be like him, wouldn't it, to be watching us from the shadows? He was always doing that."
Welkin felt Snape slip an arm around her and pull her back against himself.
"Albus the voyeur?" he asked gently. He sounded a little unsure whether she was in the mood to be teased about it.
He need not have worried. Welkin was always in the mood for almost anything where he was concerned.
Welkin brought her hand up and stroked it across the thin, strong arm that was cradling her possessively. She smiled to herself and let her hand come to rest against the top of his hand gently.
"No... Albus the Protector, I think," she said. "I prefer Albus the Protector."
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Welkin in the Wizarding World (COMPLETED)

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