SNARRY-A-THON12: FIC: A Good Boy Title: A Good Boy Author:scriblerian Other pairings/threesome: Hint of Draco/Hermione Rating: PG-13 Word count: ~2,300 Content/Warning(s): (highlight for spoilers) *Mentions of D/s, crack fic.* Prompt: 53: The Ministry arrests everyone who cast an Unforgiveable during the war, including Harry. Will he survive prison to become the next Dark Lord? Can Severus save him again, or does he become Harry's right-hand man in a new dark era? Summary: Severus is rewarded for being a good boy. A/N: This is crack!fic. Seriously. Thanks to my last-minute, superhero beta.
A Good Boy
"Molly Weasley," Severus sometimes mused aloud, "is the very last person I would have expected to become the next Dark Lord. On the other hand, I always knew Lucius had it in him."
If Harry was in a good mood, he would giggle madly, and a becoming flush would bloom across his face. If he was in a bad mood, he would mutter darkly and pout. Severus was equally satisfied with either reaction.
Severus had been surprised when Molly had taken over the world, but only for a moment.
It didn't take much imagination to picture Molly Weasley holding Boris Yeltsin at wand-point until he finished his vegetables. Severus had snorted at the ignorance of the general Wizarding public when they had expressed their shock at that particular Daily Prophet cover image.
Yeltsin's resignation, which immediately followed the incident, was less amusing but not unexpected. Really, it had almost been too easy. Russia wasn't nicknamed Mother Russia because of a gendered pronoun, whatever the Muggles might have thought.
After all, Molly had raised the twins. To her, what happened in Azkaban and after was less trouble than child's play.
* * * * *
No one had batted an eye when the former Death Eaters were thrown into Azkaban after the war. Well, certain vainglorious, crusading Gryffindors had made a fuss, but that was par for the course.
As it turned out, the Golden Trio didn't have much time to worry about certain ex-spies, as their leader was thrown into Azkaban not a week after Severus himself was incarcerated. Severus hadn't really been surprised to see Potter in the new, Muggle-style prison yard. The Wizarding public had never hesitated to turn on their Saviours.
Lupin had died in the War, as had Pettigrew, so all the Marauders escaped Azkaban in the end. Draco was nowhere to be found, but Severus didn't ask. It wouldn't do to make Lucius aware that there was something Severus didn't know. But when Severus saw Molly hugging a rather unwilling Potter over by the basketball hoop, his curiosity got the better of him. He disguised it, as usual, by becoming angry.
Severus strode across the yard, ruing his lack of robes. Striped pyjamas were not nearly as menacing. It seemed that he still had it, however, because Potter grew rigid in Molly's arms as Severus caught his eyes and gave his best glare.
Severus did not think of the words "Potter" and "rigid" in the same sentence. He would deny it under Veritaserum.
Robes or no, he still had his best scowl at his disposal.
"I was not aware that we were allowed visitors in the yard. However, I am not surprised that an exception was made for the Chosen One."
Potter had the audacity to smirk when Molly spun around and embraced Severus.
Severus couldn't help but think that his scowl lost some of its power when it was obscured by a wild bush of ginger hair.
* * * * *
The boys who had arrested her, Molly explained, were good boys. One of them had gone to school with Bill, and he had been thrilled to once again taste Molly's baking.
"You gave them biscuits?"
It was surreal to have Potter and Molly roll their eyes at him simultaneously. It made the Gryffindors look even more barmy than usual. There must be some sort of connection between barminess and a rage for sweets, he mused, as Molly continued to wax eloquent over the dear boys who had hauled her off to Azkaban.
"They were just doing their duty, and I don't blame them for that. But I can't believe the nerve of that Kingsley. I always thought he was a fine figure of a man, but in his case I suppose that beauty is only skin-deep."
Severus failed to see what Kingsley's admittedly extraordinary good looks had to do with anything.
Molly noticed his confusion and pronounced, "Handsome is as handsome does."
Molly gave Severus a disconcertingly adoring look as she said this. He felt uncomfortably like a puppy and instinctively shied away to avoid having his hair ruffled. This made Potter laugh.
"It's really not funny, dear."
Severus saw the calculating look in her eyes, and he shivered.
Molly was no Legilimens, but she saw right through the both of them.
* * * * *
None of them had been formally charged; Habeus Corpus had never caught on in Wizarding Britain. But the connection between the brand-new inmates was clear to Severus in an instant.
It seemed that the Unforgivables really were unforgivable after all.
Severus had always derided the arbitrary line between the Unforgivables and other curses. This opinion, stated decisively and often, had earned him points with his fellow Death Eaters. What no one would guess was that none other than Albus Dumbledore shared this opinion. The rub was that Dumbledore would have been as likely as not to back Kingsley's decision to condemn all those who had used an Unforgivable . . . if it had furthered his goals.
Severus did not share his philosophical musings on curses with his current fellows. Their de facto leaders were all Gryffindors; his heresy would likely convince them all that they should indeed remain in Azkaban. Perhaps they would even volunteer to be kissed, supposing anyone could control the Dementors now that Riddle was gone.
Whether Molly and Harry were really Gryffindors, as he understood the term, was debatable. But Severus didn't even share these philosophical musings with himself. Nor did he think of Potter as "Harry."
Perhaps Severus was too much of a Ravenclaw, as had been asserted so many times before. The strategy of emotional manipulation that Molly and Lucius came up with never would have occurred to him. It was amazing that those two had never teamed up before; they were two of a kind.
The In Loco Parentis platform seemed like a load of tosh to Severus. He had never sired, nor had he even been fond of, children. Neither had he had the leisure to care what people thought of him. As it turned out, he was almost singular in having the latter characteristic.
He did contribute the idea of magical collars to control the little beasts, but only Potter had been fooled by that. As Harry had blushed and sputtered his objections, Molly and Lucius had shared a knowing look, then turned an assessing gaze on him and Severus both.
When he found himself pinned down by two people who could see right through him, Severus had actually blushed. Luckily, Potter thought that meant he had convinced Severus that his suggestion was shameful, and the little brat had subsided into a smug silence. It was Severus's least favorite of Potter's expressions, but it did allow a rapid change of subject.
Besides, it turned out occasionally letting Potter think he had won made him much more agreeable on the whole.
* * * * *
The almost universal fear of being looked down upon caused the vast majority of Wizards and Witches to rise up and support Molly and Lucius when they spun their "unforgivable" acts as manifestations of exemplary parental feeling. No one wanted to admit to less-than-tender feelings towards the children, who were, after all, the future of the world. That was the beauty of the Weasley/Malfoy plan.
Severus and Potter had their turn to roll their eyes in unison when Molly had explained that diversion worked as well with adults as it did with toddlers in a tanty. But neither Harry nor Severus bothered to object, because Lucius had brought up the notion of collars again.
This naturally led to a terrific row between Severus and Harry, which they ended up taking outside behind some rather handy bushes.
Severus had won that particular battle, and Harry's new adornment was just lovely. Even Molly thought so.
In any event, Severus could not get truly interested in the Weasley/Malfoy plan, as he knew nothing of parental love. Neither did Potter, it turned out, despite his mother's famous sacrifice. While her act of bravery was inarguably proof of devotion, it apparently wasn't the most efficient way to raise a child.
After winning his point, at least for himself, on collars, Severus had kept his only theory about proper parenting--which centered on the judicious use of spanking--to himself. He was, however, unable to conceal the gleam in his eyes when Molly suggested to him, in a private moment, that "Dear Harry" really was in desperate need of a firm hand.
In fact, to Lucius' obvious enjoyment, Severus hadn't actually bothered to resist nodding vigorously. It was such a relief to find someone on the side of the Light who agreed with him on this point. The lad was terribly spoilt, despite his tragic upbringing. Proper discipline was clearly necessary--imperative, even.
If Severus had ever seen Molly brandishing her trusty wooden spoon, he would not have blinked an eye at her ready agreement with Severus's assessment of Harry's needs.
While Lucius and Molly plotted and wrote letters, published editorials, gave interviews, and eventually testified in court, Potter smiled and Severus kept his eyes downcast. This served a dual purpose: it made Severus look pleasingly abashed at his past, and it gave him plenty of opportunities to glance at Harry. The boy's emotions played across his face in a manner that would do a Shakespearean actor credit. If Severus had had even a fraction of that famous Wizard's way with words, he could write sonnets about Harry's lips alone. Potter's lips, that is. Except that Severus couldn't think of anything appropriate that rhymed with "Potter."
Not that he'd tried. Severus had never been a man of many words. He preferred to act.
* * * * *
To Severus, Harry--who was always Harry in the bedroom, though he remained Potter in public and in their detention scenes--was ideal. Severus never tired of thinking about the way Harry's skin glowed in the firelight, or the way he unconsciously flinched when Severus spelled the hearth rug to be just a touch rougher. Severus loved the look of rug burn on his boy's knees and elbows.
But this time the rug was as soft as a cloud. By the time Severus ordered him to tweak his own nipples, Harry was grinding his arse back against the floor, desperate for more friction. He wouldn't be allowed to have it. Severus flicked his wand, and Harry was lifted a few inches off of the floor. He groaned with disappointment, but he knew better than to stop pinching himself.
Lucius gave him a rather sharp kick in the shin, and Severus dragged his mind away from the previous night and back to the negotiations.
Severus knew that his services really were necessary, but he did resent being turned into a human lie detector. He would never understand why no one else on Earth seemed to be able to master Legilimency.
When Draco wasn't busy canoodling with the Know-It-All, he was a fair Occlumens, but he was too self-involved to give himself over completely to another's mind. Severus had tried and tried to convince Draco that the power gained was well worth the sacrifice, but none of the Malfoys had ever been fond of sacrifice. It was what made them such excellent negotiators.
Not that Severus needed his full mind to read this cowering Muggle. Liechtenstein, indeed. The man might as well have been an ambassador from the downstairs loo. But Lucius's kicks always brought on one of Severus's most dreadful scowls, and this inevitably hurried things along. Lucius clearly enjoyed watching Muggles cower, but Severus only enjoyed making one person cower, and Harry was definitely not a Muggle.
Once the deal had been struck--or rather the ambassador had been chivvied out with a metaphorical smack on the rear--there was half an hour before Severus was due back at the lab. He didn't intend to waste it.
Lucius knew better than to try to delay Severus. He did, however, take the time to give Severus an actual smack on the rear. Lucius, damn him, knew that Severus couldn't resist that cane. Besides, Molly always nodded with satisfaction when she saw Severus take extra care sitting down. It was clear that she didn't think Harry was the only one who needed a firm hand.
Severus duly flinched when he sat down in his seat in the Wizangamot--Lucius had a strong arm, that was certain--but Molly didn't notice. Ronald Weasley did, however, and he didn't bother to hide his smirk. Severus was pleased. Ronald couldn't keep his mouth shut. Molly would be satisfied, and Harry would be indignant as he defended Severus's honor. Harry was always pleasingly eager to make up for perceived slights to Severus, no matter who had "hurt Severus's feelings." Severus had never bothered to tell Harry that he had no feelings to speak of. He enjoyed being placated too much to give it up.
Severus took a moment to enjoy Molly's masterful performance. She was terribly good at pursing her lips in a sympathetic, yet stern manner. It contrasted well with Lucius's use of drawing a thin layer of courtesy over his obvious condescension.
It was Granger who had given a name to the leadership style that had arisen naturally from the contrast between Molly Weasley and Lucius Malfoy. It seemed that Muggles called this strategy "Good Cop, Bad Cop." Whatever it was called, it worked beautifully.
Of course everyone was afraid of Lucius Malfoy and his number one henchman, the infamous Severus Snape. But even more than that, no one, probably not even Lucius himself, wanted to be a disappointment to Molly Weasley. And no one, except Severus, would ever speak a word against her adopted son and number one advisor: their Saviour, Harry Potter.
Not that Molly ever took Harry's advice. She was incredibly good at listening and empathizing and nodding and then doing whatever it was she was going to do in the first place.
But when Severus caught Harry's eye, when Harry's lips parted and his eyes dilated, he knew that he would always do whatever Molly Weasley wanted.