An Englishman’s Castle

Author's Notes:
This is very loosely inspired by Copella, a ballet tale. It's not my first fanfiction, although I've never 'published' anything on aff.net. It won't contain graphic porn (sadly!) but it should be fairly light-hearted and humorous. I welcome all reviews, especially constructive criticism.

An Englishman’s Home is His Castle is taken to mean a person’s home is private, sacrosanct and to be protected at all costs. This is an expression that derives from the Middle Ages and an old law that prevented any person from forcing entry to a private dwelling to carry out an arrest or to seize goods and chattels. That same law prevented the bailiffs of the High Sheriff from breaking in and helping themselves to a person’s goods and it is still the case that no bailiff is allowed to enter a private dwelling without first obtaining a court order.
Jack, A. The Ruling Classes, Shaggy Dogs and Black Sheep: The Origins of Even More Phrases We Use Every Day (London: Penguin Group, 2005)

An Englishman's Castle

The Ministry of Magic Adoption Law
From the day of the twenty-first of September of the year nineteen hundred and ninety-nine (21 – 09 – 1999) the Ministry of Magic decrees the enactment of the Adoption Law (SOCL7865-W-091999), pertaining to the provision for children orphaned or with parents or parent unable to make reasonable provisions for said children. All wizards and witches fulfilling the criteria outlined below are required to legally adopt and provide for one child, chosen by the Ministry:
i. The witch or wizard is to be a full citizen of the United Kingdom of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland and so falling under the due restriction of the Ministry of Magic of the United Kingdom of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland
ii. The witch or wizard is to be in full capacity of both their magic and mental facilities, thus rendering them of no danger to any child placed under their care
iii. The witch or wizard is to be employed in secure and safe employment, which would present minimal danger to a child
iv. The witch or wizard is to earn, per annum, a gross salary of G3,600 or above


“Professor Snape?” the small child poised for a scramble away from the infamous temper of his Potion’s Professor quivered, “Th-the Headmistress would like to see you.”
Fortunately for the student, Snape had reached a crucial point in his potion and was leaning so far into the cauldron that his beaked nose was level with the rim, so it was the Apprentice who peered at him from underneath her cloud of hair and nodded absently.
“Thank you, Galston.”
Anthony Galston stood shakily on his gangly legs and drew himself up to his thin height. Pulling nervously on the Hufflepuff his eyes flickered around the class of Fourth Years bent over their chopping boards. Each student had a small pile of slender green stems, topped by a yellow flower somewhat like a butter-cup but framed with a ruff of slim green leaves. Snape’s legendary control of his class was in evidence: not a single on of them looked up at the disturbance.
“Please Madame,” he swallowed as the Apprentice laid down her knife and pinned him with her wide brown eyes, “Headmistress McGonagall said she wanted the Professor immediately.”
Professor Snape’s eyes flew over the classroom and settled on the small boy darkening his doorway. Unable to meet the dark gaze, the child’s eyes dropped to his feet and his fingers played over a sleeve, fidgeting with a thread dangling loose.
“Galston! What are the common names of Eranthis Hyemali?”
“P-Professor?” squeaked out Galston, face draining of colour at the unexpected question.
“Eranthis Hyemali, boy.”
“I don’t know,” he finally forced out, “Sir, I’m sorry-”
“Miss Palin, enlighten this idiot child,” Snape pointed a thin finger at a girl with pale brown hair, who looked up from her slicing briefly to answer:
“Eranthis Hyemali is also known as Aconite, Monkshood or Wolfsbane. The folk name for Aconite is Dumbledore’s Delight.”
“Ten points from Hufflepuff, Galston. Let us hope that your poor memory does not carry over to the messages of the Headmistress.”
Snape stalked out of the classroom with Galston trotting in front of him and the students returned to their chopping, albeit with the tension in their shoulders lessened slightly.
“Five points to Slytherin for an excellent answer, Miss Palin.”
The plain girl looked up from underneath a heavy fringe and smiled in recognition of the Apprentice’s points as her Professor swept out of the dungeons.

Snape released the Hufflepuff to his lessons once they had reached the Entrance Hall and ascended the stairs to the seventh floor, one hand trailing along the banister. The staircases adjusted themselves for the Professor, sliding neatly into place and his ease at stepping out onto what had formerly been air belayed his length of time at the Castle. He paused outside the gargoyle long enough to growl the password at it and then stood on the spiral staircase as it carried him up to the office.
“Come in please, Severus,” the Headmistress called as he raised his knuckles to the oak door and the door opened.
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was sitting behind the heavy claw-footed desk, hands clasped together over a single piece of parchment. Her face resembled a creased serviette, deep lines crumpled in on one another and pink lines of scar tissue crossed her left cheek like a smudge of foodstuff. A pair of wide spectacles perched on her nose and she peered through the top of them to fix Snape with a level glare.
“Your messenger proved competent,” he sank into the armchair facing her desk.
“Indeed. Tea?”
“This is to be a lengthy visit then?”
“Hermione Granger is perfectly competent enough to teach your lessons, as well you know.”
A pair of thin china teacups on saucers whirled out of the air and settled themselves on the desk as a teapot poured a stream of amber liquid into them. A small milk-jug added milk into one cup, and the Headmistress shook a tin of Ginger Snaps at him, which he declined with a shake of his hand.
McGonagall sipped her tea and watched him as he blew on his to cool the hot liquid down. Finally she placed the saucer and cup onto the polished surface of the desk and tapped a wrinkled finger against the parchment.
“I would appreciate you explaining this, Severus. Before you feign ignorance, it is your adoption form to the ministry claiming, and I quote here, that you are unable to take in a child because of ‘inconceivable differences between myself and children in general, and in specific between snot-nosed, bright-eyed infants’.”
Snape raised a single black eyebrow and smirked a little. Minerva blinked and turned back to the parchment.
“It goes on, I notice. You then describe this new law as ‘sheer idiocy the like of which I have not seen since Fudge’s dismissal of the return of Lord Voldemort’, which the Minister himself has taken great offence at. Minister Weasley feels it is unjust to parallel himself and Cornelius Fudge, and I would have to agree. Have you any explanation for your behaviour?”
“Only that I behaved in a manner I feel befits the request of the Ministry.”
“Severus!”
She frowned at him and tapped the parchment again.
“I understand that this is difficult for you, but you really have no other options available. There are facts in this law which cannot be denied, and the effects of the War have been long-reaching; it was not just Theodore Lupin who was left without parents.”
“Haven’t I contributed enough? I fail to understand why I must now take in a child when I have given my entire life to this struggle.”
His voice was petulant and he spread his fingers wide in a gesture of helplessness on the sides of the armchair. Minerva sighed and chewed on a Ginger Snap for a moment.
“Do try not to be so melodramatic, I will not be fooled.”
Snape shrugged his shoulders and sat back in the chair, sipping his tepid tea.
“It was worth a try,” he admitted, “anything is worth a try at this point.”
“Stop responding to this as if it is the worst thing ever to have been passed by the Ministry. Arthur Weasley is trying to do his job, and we owe him the support of Hogwarts if not the Order. Now, I have procured a fresh form for you and completed it so by the end of this week there will be a child installed in your chambers, whether you appreciate it or not.”
Snape finally glowered.
“And Severus? Do try not to stamp when you leave.”
“Minerva, I cannot take in a child! You are aware of my less than savoury character and the effect I have on the children here – why would you want to inflict me upon an infant?”
Minerva sighed deeply and leant back in the chair.
“You must appreciate the situation we are in. For the last seven or eight years Hogwarts has been seen to be in direct challenge to the Ministry and, rightly as that was, it must change. If the position of the school is not enough, then consider the children without parents or homes and the upheaval that they face. The Ministry must attempt to resolve the problems the war has left.”
The dark man gave no answer, but put his teacup down on the table and stood. Through the windows of the office the Quidditch Pitch could just be glimpsed, tucked behind a rocky outcrop. Several students on broomsticks were gliding around above the stands and the Gryffindor team, resplendent in crimson robes and brooms over their shoulders, were trekking down for their practice.
“I will tell you one last time that I do not want a squalling infant in my home.”
“Your objections are noted, Severus, but overridden. There is no choice. I had hoped that the extension to your herb gardens would soften the blow somewhat.”
“Ah, Minerva, you are not the master manipulator that Albus is. I would also appreciate the integration of a solarium to serve as a library in my chambers.”
Minerva shook her head, a wry smile on her weathered face. Snape’s black eyes met hers and he smirked.
“Of course,” she answered finally, “and we’ll say another hundred galleons per annum for the potion’s department.”
“I am glad we understand each other. Displeasing as it is to deal with your own particular brand of brutal diplomacy, we seem to have reached a compromise.”
“Excellent. Do bring the child up to introduce me when it arrives.”
Snape left the office, taking extra care to stamp heavily on each individual stair on his way down.