Consul

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or anything recognizable to the HP-Universe, JK Rowling does. I’m not making any money off the writing of this fanfic.

First Rule of Slytherin House – Press every advantage. Work every angle. Life may be a journey, not a destination, but every good sailor knows that the world is a mindless expanse of ocean, and until planting both feet on terra firma, it is unpredictable. Don’t ever take chances. Be prepared.

Severus Snape was having the time of his life. Not since writing to Saint Nicholas as a lad had he ever had as much fun drawing up a list of demands and every little whim that came to him. As far as he was concerned, there was no reason at all to let the annoying little chit get the better end of the deal.

She was using him, after all.

His appointed public defender was a completely incompetent asshat. At Severus’ trial the man said barely two words in his defense, but then it was a show trial, and nothing he said could change the predetermined verdict. At least he got a trial, but then that probably had more to do with being ‘Public Enemy #2’ than anything else.

The Wizengamot was so completely backed up with long lines of bewildered wizards and witches awaiting justice that the average citizen caught up in Auror raids was processed without trial. In typical Ministry fashion, their knee-jerk reaction was to arrest anyone and everyone on the shady side of the law. After all, this was the ‘new reality.’

Death Eaters, Slytherins, and pet snake owners were all processed. All sorts of people disappeared, but there wasn’t so much of a peep out of the wizarding public, who didn’t like asking uncomfortable questions. John Q. Wizard was happy to be rid of disreputable characters, it made him morally upstanding and patriotic to the cause of the Light. Rumor had it Scrimgeour had emptied out Knockturn Alley and made a tidy chunk of change in developing the real estate. And nobody was complaining over that, not when they’d put in a dog park.

At trial, Severus’ only insistence was that he retain the right to appeal if future evidence of his innocence ever presented itself. Since it was so bloody unlikely, he had won that particular motion and had been shuffled off to Azkaban without another word of protest. Somehow, rotting in the cesspool of humanity was a right he’d earned.

However, his solicitor, Mr. A. Ffoulkes, was an absolute genius. It wasn’t coincidental that he was both Hogwarts' and the late Albus Dumbledore’s solicitor as well. Ffoulkes was both well known and very well respected in wizarding circles, it also helped that the man looked exactly as a counselor should, though only Muggle-borns would notice his uncanny resemblance to an older and more portly Perry Mason.

The rights under wizarding law for a convicted felon were few and far between, and as Miss Granger had pointed out, there were clear advantages in being married. Severus wanted to make certain that he properly made use of every single one. A week after the headstrong Gryffindor had graced him with her presence and he voraciously read, notated, and diligently commented on both the new law and terms of his incarceration, Mr. A. Ffoulkes met him in his small cell.

“Severus!” The jovial well-dressed man furiously shook his hand. “Finally ready to release those documents and get out of this place?” As he said this, Ffoulkes’ eyes roamed around the cramped cell. His nose wrinkled slightly, as the stench had returned, but Ffoulkes meant no insult by it.

“No, I’ve called you on another matter.” He shook his head and offered the out-of-place leather chair. “Congratulate me, Ffoulkes, I’m getting married.”

“Congratulations? Certainly…” He looked perplexed for just a moment before recovering. “I suppose this has to do with the new law. Bloody business that…” Severus watched the cogs turn in the elderly man’s head before a sly smile spread across his lips. “Brilliant… If I had thought of it myself, I’d have Dorothy do the same. So, who’s the witch? Anyone I’d know?”

“Hermione Granger.”

Severus watched with interest as the man’s eyes went wide in obvious recognition.

“I gather you’ve heard of her.”

Ffoulkes nodded slowly with a slight shake to his head. “Of course, of course…. Great girl, that Granger, I had to deal with her during the dispensation of Albus’ will. It’d figure it’d take a witch like that to scheme this up, but then I’m assuming this isn’t a love match. You two haven’t secretly been in love for years… right?”

Severus gave a humorless laugh. “I’ve never had an ounce of interest in the child, or any girl I’ve taught, for that matter. No. This is business, pure and simple.”

There were precious few things about his life that he could look back and feel any amount of pride for. His reputation as an educator was one of them. Given, he was a taskmaster as inventive or cruel as any other Death Eater in the classroom, but he had never once made an inappropriate action, no matter how much the little shits whined about fucking points. No, to approach a student was to betray the trust inherent in his position as one of the school’s guardians. And his only true lustful fantasies he’d ever had for the Gryffindor swot could best be described as homicidal.

He proffered a large tablet of notes. “Here, a list of my demands. See if you can write this up as a marriage contract that will satisfy the Ministry, will you?”

Ffoulkes thumbed through the documents making small grunting noises under his breath as he took in the different clauses and requests. Lifting his eyes back up to his client, “A bit mad hatter, if you ask me…”

“Perhaps,” Severus conceded.

Truth was, the whole idea appealed to him. And why shouldn’t he request every comfort and desire that came to mind? There was a phrase that resounded around his head: ‘steal big or not at all.’ And if Hermione chose to dismiss his terms, well, certainly she wasn’t the only available witch. Perhaps an advertisement in the paper was warranted?

Severus humbly and quietly acknowledged to himself and no other that if he ever wanted to leave his self-imposed imprisonment, Dumbledore’s evidence only needed to be provided to the Wizengamot, and well, that would be that. But then, if he was to survive this meager existence why should he suffer needlessly when a witch could cater to his whims? And not just any witch… Potter’s woman.

Somehow the irony fit. Another marriage contract had arrived shortly after she had left from a middle-aged spinster in Wales who was obviously shrewd enough to come to the same conclusions. But why settle for an unknown element when Miss Granger provided such interesting possibilities?

After a few parting words and clarifying questions, Mr. A. Ffoulkes took his leave, happy to exit the wizarding prison, and Severus was happy to get his armchair back.

*

A/N:

Chapter title: Consul - Highest magistrate in the land. As we get a glimpse of Severus' legal issues.