roozetter (roozetter) wrote in severus_sighs, @ 2011-09-30 23:11:00 |
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Current location: | living roomm |
Current mood: | giggly |
Entry tags: | challenge, drabble, event: anniversary 2011, member: roozetter, pairing: severus/harry, rating: pg |
Severus' Lieutenants
Title: Severus’ Lieutenants
Author: roozetter
Pairing: Severus/Harry
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,628
Warnings: Violence. *grin*
Summary: Severus builds an army...of lieutenant children. He's pretty sure this isn't what people had in mind when they put him charge of children so soon after his honeymoon.
A/N: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. Written for the prompt, “Severus’ Lieutenants.” Much love to faeryqueen07 for the beta work :)
Severus was not ready for school to be back in session.
Having gotten married over the summer, he was more in a mindset to memorize other, more pleasurable activities, than teaching the next generation of worthless miscreants the basis of Potions theory. The basis, he knew with fatalistic certainty, that would be driven completely from their minds after their first flying lesson.
Severus knew all the places that made Harry moan, knew where to press to make him writhe, where to brush his mouth to make Harry’s back arch and his toes curls. He spent a ridiculous amount of time learning that the backs of Harry's knees were ticklish unless you pressed just so and then his cock was twitching. He'd learned that if he brushed --
He sighed. “Yes, Miss Weasley?”
Rose Weasley tossed her curly brown hair back with a brilliant smile. “My mum says that you’re the youngest Potions master in history, and that you perfected the Wolfsbane potion to help millions, and Uncle George says you keep him from permanently transfiguring himself into a blast-ended skrewt, and Uncle Harry says you’re brilliant at everything, and …”
“Thank you, Miss Weasley.” Severus paused thoughtfully. And then smiled warmly at his class of first year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. “This topic of conversation transitions us nicely into today’s topic: Defensive Potions.”
Today’s topic had nothing to do with Rose’s impromptu declaration, but he wasn’t too worried that any of them would notice. They were eleven.
“Now I need everyone to listen carefully,” he said sternly, waiting for the enthusiastic nods. He was not disappointed. “Today, in accordance with teaching you Defensive Potions, I shall be making all of you...” He paused long enough to watch them lean forward in their seats, wide-eyed and eager. “My lieutenants.”
Amy Macmillan puffed out her chest in an eerily similar rendition of her father. “We won’t let you down, sir.” Next to her, Patricia Longbottom nodded in fervent agreement.
“Hmm.” Severus crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the class, clearly showing his doubt in their ability. And the moment they straightened, looked at him with desperate pleading, he knew he had them. “All right. I am willing to let you try.”
He graciously ignored the pumped fist and whispered, “Yes!” from young Roxanna Weasley.
Their objective was simple: Kidnap Quidditch Coach Potter.
The class got together to plot their defense, and in a show of intelligence that frankly surprised Severus, little Patricia Longbottom suggested using Rose as bait since everyone knew how fond Harry was of her mother. Severus was briefly disappointed she didn’t sort into his house, a thought so distressing he immediately Occluded like he hasn’t since the end of the war.
And that was how Harry found himself crawling through the underbrush toward the back entrance of Greenhouse Three, swearing to himself over the tears on little Roxie’s face as she told him about Rosie going to investigate the Devil’s Snare she’d read so much about. Little Rosie, so much like her mother. So determined to prove she could do as much, if not more, than her mother could at her age. Little Rosie who … was nowhere in sight.
Harry knelt in the doorway of the long disused entrance and stared. Severus was stretched out on the floating carpet they’d smuggled back from their honeymoon, wearing nothing but his shirt -- unbuttoned -- and the black pants Harry remembered sliding his hands into the back pockets of just this morning. He nodded a thanks as Severus’ cleaning charm washed over him, and finished crawling forward. “Rosie?”
“Safely surrounded by the other students and completing her … assignment.” Severus smirked, one hand lazily tracing patterns on the rug. “And since we have a few minutes,” he nodded his head toward the picnic basket at his feet without taking his eyes off Harry, “I thought we might have an early lunch.”
“Lunch, huh?” Harry dropped his eyes to Severus’ hand and reached to unclasp the fastenings of his robe. “And the floating carpet?”
“Mmm.” Severus hummed, giving Harry a lazy, predatory smile. “I find myself missing the gentle breeze of the Mesopotamian nights of our honeymoon.”
Harry’s robe hit the floor.
Ron Weasley stepped out of the Floo into the Headmistress’ office with a scowl on his face, snapping his Auror robe in an unconscious mimicry of Severus. “What do you mean you’ve lost my daughter!”
Minerva pressed her lips together and glared at her former student. “Have a biscuit, Mr. Weasley.”
“What!” Ron stared at his former professor, aghast, barely noticing as Draco stepped out of the Floo behind him and elbowed him out of the way.
“A biscuit!” Minerva snapped. Ron obediently reached for a ginger snap and sat down. Draco looked between the two, flashed his most charming smile, and took one as well without waiting to be told.
Minerva nodded approvingly. “Now, Professor Snape has seen fit to take his first year class on a field trip, location unknown. It is your duty to find them without alerting anyone that anything is wrong.”
“Snape kidnapped my daughter?” Ron looked like he didn’t know whether to be more shocked or furious. He automatically accepted another biscuit when Minerva thrust the tin in his face.
“Potter must be involved somehow,” Draco noted.
“Indeed.” Minera’s lips thinned again. She gave the two young men stern looks and then ordered them from her office.
“Hi, Daddy!” Rosie greeted cheerfully, sitting on the ledge of the low stone wall behind Hagrid’s hut.
Ron, having wandered this way on a vague memory of what he and Harry would have done on a free afternoon, froze in shock. Several children were happily digging in the pumpkin patch, others were playing fetch with Fang II, a few industrious students were reading their Potions manual, while the rest of them sat socializing. “Hi, baby,” he answered automatically, reaching for his wand to send a Patronus to the headmistress.
“I’m sorry, sir,” a polite young voice said from behind him. “But I need you to drop your wand.” Turning around, Ron looked in shock at the mud-covered child wearing a crown of thorns. Albus Nott was under no such shock and smiled with enough nasty premeditation to make his mother, Pansy Parkinson, proud.
“Get him!” Patricia Longbottom shrieked joyously.
Three Hufflepuffs -- loyally working together -- tackled Ron, sending his wand spinning from his hand. Ron hit the ground rolling, two Ravenclaws giggling madly as they tumbled into the muddy pumpkin patch. Rosie sat on her dad’s knees, tying his feet together, while Roxanna stuffed a rag into her uncle’s mouth and handcuffed him to a pumpkin vine. They all gave a victorious cheer once the enemy was subdued.
Right before he blacked out, Ron heard with a feeling of desperate terror young Amy Macmillan arrogantly stating, “Well, I’ve only tried a few spells, of course. But they’ve all worked for me...”
Draco followed the sound of high-pitched, childish shrieks of delight and roared with laughter upon discovering Ron face down and immobilized in the pumpkin pitch. “Auror Weasley!” he called out gleefully. “Taken out by a bunch of children?”
He stopped laughing when one of the little terrors let out a feral sounding growl and bit the wrist of his wand hand. But the fight didn’t get really dirty until one of the children climbed on top of him and pulled his hair with muddy hands.
An hour later, pleasantly relaxed, Severus pulled Harry through the vine-covered opening and tugged him close for one last, lingering kiss. Harry laughed, low and husky, pulling away far enough to mouth kisses over the scars on Severus’ neck.
“Never again,” a hissing, sibilant voice called from the shadows. Minerva sniffed in irritation and side-stepped the spells that flew her way. “Never again will you so blatantly disregard school rules to indulge in self-pleasure.”
Harry flushed pink, dropping his forehead onto Severus’ shoulder with a groan of embarrassment. Severus merely inclined his head politely. “Of course, Headmistress,” he said smoothly. He extended the arm not wrapped around Harry in a gesture for her to proceed them from the forest.
Minerva hesitated, casting a wary glance over her shoulder. “Call them off,” she said firmly.
A single eyebrow raised in question. “I beg your pardon?”
“The children,” Minerva hissed, sounding eerily reminiscent to the Dark Lord. “Call them off.”
“What?” Harry lifted his head far enough to glance at Minerva in alarm. “What’s wrong with the children?”
“Severus has done something to them,” she said primly. “I had to resort to more... elusive means, in order to discern your location.”
“Huh?” Harry stepped forward and ran a practiced, critical eye over Minerva, searching for injuries.
A dull flush crept up her face. “I had to transform to evade them,” she snapped. “Satisfied?”
Severus left the forest, years of practice keeping his face impassive. Weasley and Malfoy were hog-tied and face down in the mud, surrounded by muddy, primitive-looking children. Harry choked, hands tightening reflexively on his arm. “Erm,” Harry said inelegantly. “You guys. Uh.”
Satisfied that no one except the children were looking at him, Severus kept his voice firm. “At ease, lieutenants.” The children looked between themselves proudly.
“In fact.” He paused again, ignoring Harry as he began casting spells to free his friends, waiting until all the children were looking at him with filthy, imploring faces. “In fact,” he repeated, inclining his head to them all, “I would go so far as to say Outstanding for the day.”
He was quite pleased by the wicked grins and loud cheers that followed this pronouncement.
Merlin, sometimes he loved his job.