FIC: His Just Rewards~ Severus/Percy~ PG Title: His Just Rewards Author:florida_minxie Characters: Severus Snape/Percy Weasley Rating: PG Highlight for Warnings: *AU, hints of future D/s* Compliant to: OotP – AU fic Disclaimer: Are they still children’s books? Not mine then. *pout* Summary: Severus lives to reap the benefits of playing both sides against the middle.
His Just Rewards
“M’Lord,” Severus purred, “the boy is not a blood traitor. As soon as he was able, he pushed his family to the side and stood on his own convictions.” Severus let his eyes rove over the collection of Weasleys, wondering yet again why he’d felt the need to fight for this particular wizard. He cocked one eyebrow as Molly Weasley issued a rather impressive death glare; too bad she was nowhere near as formidable without the use of her wand. “This Weasley should have, dare I say, been sorted into Slytherin, if for nothing else than his innate drive to succeed.”
The Dark Lord steepled his fingers under his chin and gave weight to Severus’ words. He had known the middle boy had left his family behind, seeking favor and fortune within the Ministry, attaching himself to those in power. The story Severus was weaving did not sound that far fetched. “He cannot be free, Severus. He will require constant monitoring. Is that something you would be volunteering for? Is your certainty about the boy that strong?”
Severus glanced at Percy Weasley, kneeling gracefully before the tribunal board, and pondered the question. “May I address him directly, m’Lord?”
Voldemort gave a curt nod and sat back to watch Snape work. The man had always had a flare for the dramatic.
“Weasley,” Severus snapped, drawing the dark brown eyes, yet another thing that set him apart from his siblings, away from the ground. “You have been paying attention to the discussion, have you not?”
“Yes, sir.” Percy answered softly, succinctly, and, most importantly, respectfully. He knew he’d found a way to avoid Azkaban, as long as he played the game properly.
“And what say you? Not only about my assessment, Weasley, but also about your worth. Are you worth that sort of dedication?” Severus held his breath as he waited. It was all up to the boy now; Percy Weasley would either hold on to his ambition and use this opportunity or he would finally become the son his mother had once thought him to be.
Percy straightened his shoulders as he formed his words in his head. “I… You were correct, sir. I did willingly step away from my family and, if the situation was replayed, I would do it again.”
Severus had to give the boy credit; Percy didn’t flinch as his mother wailed in outrage. Instead, the younger man held Severus gaze, a submissive understanding hidden in the depths of his eyes as uncommon to Gryffindor house as black hair was to the Weasley clan. Severus canted his head slightly to the side, his groin twitching as another world of possibilities opened around him. “Tell me, Weasley,” Severus’ voice dropped to a honeyed purr, “what do you propose as my recompense for, in essence, giving up my freedom to ensure yours?”
Percy blushed a light delicate red that, amazingly, did not clash with his russet hair. Over the Dark Lord’s chuckles and his own family’s gasps of prudish indignation, Percy whispered, “Whatever you wished of me.”
“Truly?”
Severus waited for Percy to acknowledge in the affirmative, a short jerk of his head, before declaring, “Then if it is indeed the Dark Lord’s will, I will accept the conditions and stand surety for you.”
Voldemort tipped his head back and barked with laughter. “Oh, my dear, Severus,” he shook his head lightly from side to side disbelievingly, “if this is what you want, consider it your reward.”
“Thank you, m’Lord,” he replied, bowing low in respect.
Eyeing the remaining Weasleys, grimacing as the Potter brat’s best friend turned a putrid shade of puce, Voldemort said, “Perhaps you can even suggest placement for the remainder of them.”
Severus walked the length of the holding pen and tapped lightly against his crooked teeth. “The look-a-likes are rather gifted in the art of inventions, even if they did generally apply it to pranks.” He dug through his mind’s recesses about each of the individual Weasleys. “The youngest boy has shown ability in strategy, if he remembers to control his temper. The two eldest,” he waved a hand towards Bill and Charlie, both watching Snape with a speculative gleam, “are well versed in curse breaking. As to the others, sir,” Severus returned to his position at the front of the dais, “there is nothing note worthy in my recollections.”
“Very well, Severus,” Voldemort said in dismissal, “take your prize and be on your way.” He waited until Severus was ready to pass through the door before adding, “If he steps out of line, Severus, you will be expected to not only handle it but pay the price for your failure.”
“Of course, m’Lord,” Severus replied sedately, “I anticipated no less.”
Percy sat quietly on the floor, his back pressed tight against the wall, while Severus addressed the house elf. The elf, Tibble, turned bulging eyes on Percy, and after a moment’s assessment, popped out. Clearing his throat, Percy said, “Sir?”
Severus poured two fingers of whiskey out, levitating one to his new acquisition, before answering. “Get off of the floor, Weasley. We have numerous things to discuss and I refuse to get a crick in my neck because you are cowering in the corner.”
Percy scrambled to the nearest chair. “Sir?”
“What, boy?” Severus had forgotten how persistent the boy could be.
“Why?” Percy kept his eyes his former professor, watching for the personal tics that used to signal an imminent outburst. “Why save me? And, better yet, why attempt to place the others as well?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Severus snapped, his discomfort at the turn in conversation apparent to even the most obtuse of eyes.
“We’re Weasleys, sir. Blood traitors who fought against the Dark Lord,” Percy bit back the flood of fear and pushed on, “obviously in direct contrast to your beliefs.”
“Not necessarily, Weasley,” Severus replied long after the silence had dragged into stilted and tense. “Some of us were in a better position to guarantee our safety no matter who emerged as the victor after the final battle.”
Severus watched as an array of emotions filtered over the freckled face. Confusion. Understanding. Anger. Amusement. A soft giggled erupted from the redhead, followed by a chuckle, then a full burst of laughter as the anxiety from the war and subsequent arrest bled out of him. “You find something comical?” Severus asked sardonically.
“Just, just,” Percy chuckled, “you really are a Slytherin, saving yourself no matter what.”
“Indubitably,” Severus agreed.
Percy sobered just as quickly as he’d given in to the small mental meltdown. “What does that mean for me?”
They’d reached the crux of this newest development at last. Leaning forward, Severus sat his empty glass to the side. “It means, Weasley, that I managed to save you from the bowels of Azkaban. Why, I have yet to understand. However,” Severus’ face closed off into the hard lines of distaste Percy remembered from his days at Hogwarts, “I can promise that it comes at a cost.”
Percy swallowed hard and closed his eyes.
“We both have set this into play,” Severus continued brusquely. “I have given my word that you will never leave my sight.” Percy’s eyes flew open. “Did you not hear him, boy?” Snape growled. “He will require constant monitoring. Did you believe that to mean anything less?”
Percy downed the last of the liquor and spluttered. “No. No, I understood.”
Severus wondered, not for the first time in his life, if he had managed to get himself in over his head. Honestly. The boy had not been this slow witted while a student. “You in return, promised…”
“To do whatever you wished of me.” The words were whispered and lacked the confidence that Percy had managed while in front of Voldemort.
“Are you regretting your rash statement?”
If the boy said yes, Severus would have to kill him. There was no room for a possible outburst from an unwilling concubine. “No,” Percy said, “Not regretting it as much as fully realizing my station in life.”
“What,” Severus leaned back, interested to hear where Weasley’s head was, “do you believe your new life will encompass?”
Percy blushed cranberry red and buried his face in his hands, mumbling inarticulately.
Severus felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards again. At least the reaction indicated the boy had an inkling of his role under the regime. “Again, Weasley, and in English this time, if you please.”
“Your wh… whore,” he rushed out with a single breath. “Your whore,” he said more clearly, “nothing but your whore and your toy.”
Severus drew back and sneered. “You typical, dramatic Gryffindor,” he snarled. “A whore is used and then tossed aside, passed off to the next individual and toys are meant to be shared.” He stood and stalked over to Percy, looming over the younger man while he unleashed the full force of his fury. “Have I ever come across as one to share with others? One who places such little value on another life as to pass you around to all and sundry?”
“N… no.”
“You,” Severus leaned onto the arms of the stuffed chair and trapped Percy between his body and the cushion, “are mine, Percy. Mine to do with as I please. A favored pet that, by edict of our ruler, I own. Mark my words, before all is said and done, it will be more than just your body that I lay claim to. It will be your mind, body, and soul.”
Percy shuddered as the hot breath washed over his cheek and neck. He had no doubts that Snape was telling the truth.