Never Piss Off a House-Elf

Chapter 4: Old Loyalties Lie Dormant ~-- Sort Of


Satchel fretted for a moment before he knocked, timidly, on the massive oaken door before him. He'd never had to knock before, but then he'd still been somewhat a servant of the man who resided there. After waiting a few long minutes, no-one had come, and Satchel risked another knock. He waited again and decided to see if the house wards would still allow him entry. The doors opened at his thought, and he smiled as he entered. Until he heard the racket in side.


"Miki, you must learn to speak better English! I do not have the time to translate for you constantly. If you do not learn, and soon, I will turn you out with a full wardrobe!" Severus Snape roared, exasperated and tired. A small house-elf wearing a short yukata [AN: from the Japanese; a short, typically cotton, kimono worn in the spring and summer months, especially by fair/ carnival workers].


"Gomen-nasai, Snape-san. Miki is meaning, sir, sorry," the poor little things said, tears in her eyes. "Miki is being running into walls later for her words."


Snape put his face in one long-fingered hand. "No, Miki, don't do that. Just learn the damned language, or head to another house and be a dunderhead there."


Setting his mouth, Satchel headed straight for his former master. Master Snape had never treated Satchel like that ~-- ever! Satchel walked up to the pair, one crying in shame and fear, the other near tears for frustration. Satchel stood beside the smaller house-elf and threw an arm around her. She was cute, and he needed a mate. . . but he had other business to attend to. And his master had always been kind to the house-elves before. What had changed?


"Satchel, is that you?" Snape asked, and Satchel beamed at his old master, still guarding the other elf. "Has something happened? Do you need my help?"


That was the opening Satchel needed. He nodded his head vigorously, perhaps a little too vigorously. Severus's eyes narrowed, and he lifted his head up out of his hands and reared up to his full height.


"Who are you serving this year?" Severus asked his former servant. "You are always assigned to a Head Student. Who is mistreating you?"


Satchel groaned and tried to smile. Of course the Headmaster hadn't yet told all his staff who the Head Students were; it was one of the things he liked to surprise everyone with. Satchel didn't like keeping things from Severus, so he spilled his guts.


"No, Master, Satchel is being treateds very wells, Sir. Is why Satchel is being here, Sir. Satchel is wanting to be the new Head Girl's elf forever, and is wanting the Master to sign on it," Satchel said, his stomach turning. He'd be sick later if tried to lie too much more. "The new Head Girl is being Hermione Granger, sir, a nice miss. Doesn't even try to be giving Satchel the clothes anymore, Sir."


Satchel held out his doctored letter and let Severus read over it. To Severus, it appeared no more than a contract relegating Satchel to one Miss Hermione Granger for her service until she no longer needed or desired it. Insufferable know-it-all she was, but she was also notoriously kind to house-elves ~-- a notorious bleeding heart, she is, he thought to himself as he read the letter, and it sounded just like her, too 'For the good of the elf, sir.' ~-- and therefore he could not deny Satchel's request. The elf had served Severus well through the years, and if he wanted to be part of Miss Granger's Weasley-headed household, it was the elf's problem, not Severus's. Besides, Severus would always take him back if need be.


"Satchel, of course I'll sign this for you. If you ever have need of me, please contact me," Severus said, whipping out his wand and waving it over the parchment, signing it magically. A spell hit him in the gut, and Severus felt an odd tingling in his loins, one he hadn't felt for a long time. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "So, my old friend, since you are no longer my servant, may I offer you refreshment?"


Satchel looked from Severus to the house-elf, Miki, and he nodded slightly.


"But Satchel is being helping the new one, Miki. I is teaching her the words," Satchel said, and Severus groaned. In such a short time, Hermione had already rubbed off a bit too much on his former servant. "Satchel is wanting to help the master as he can, and so he teaches the new elf. What is being youse name, elf?"


The girl elf stared at Satchel, not used to being treated well. The other elves made fun of her accent, and they never let her join them in anything, because she was so new to the household.


"Atashi no namae wa Miki," she said, and Severus almost roared.


"MIKI! English, please. I should never have let Albus add you to my household without putting you through some sort of schooling," Severus said, his temporary good humor disintegrating. He turned to Satchel. "You're welcome to try to teach her, Satchel. She is the lone house-elf of a recently deceased friend of Albus's, a Japanese maiko, or priestess. She knows very little English, as you can tell, and can not read or write. Since you are taking your leave of my household for good, perhaps you could do me one last favor and teach her, then? Yes, and her name is Miki, by the by. That's what she was trying to say."


"The master is being speaking Japaneses, sir?" Satchel asked, proud of the man he'd help rear. House-elves live a long time, and Satchel had been at Spinner's End before Severus had even been born.


Severus shook his head curtly, waving his hand over his ear and doing a bit of wordless, wandless magic to show Satchel the translating charm. Satchel nodded, and turned to Miki.


"I is being called Satchel, Miss Miki," Satchel said, scraping the other elf a bow that made her giggle. Severus smirked at the interchange ad decided to retire on his own to the kitchen. Satchel didn't even notice he was gone.


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Satchel and Miki spent the day together, working on her English while they got to know one another. Severus joined them for a late lunch, but felt no need to keep them. Satchel was determined to find a mate, and Severus had managed to unwittingly drop one in his lap. By the end of the day, Satchel had even gotten to kiss Miki!


It was an hour or so past sundown when Satchel finally knew he had to leave. Hermione was a good mistress, but he feared her wrath when he arrived home. Satchel thanked Severus one last time, and gave Miki a swift kiss goodbye before he winked out. Severus turned to Miki and sighed.


"Did he manage to teach you anything today, Miki?" Severus said, looking at his newest elf, who beamed up at him. He nodded in time to her, but he was distracted. The throb had settled quite heavily in his groin, and unlike other men he could mention, he had no wish to lay it into his servant. He nodded to Miki one last time, and turned on his heel.


Severus meticulously scanned and warded each room he passed, one last carry over from his days as a spy. Albus had tried to assure him that this, too, would pass, but Severus had yet to see any drop off in that particular idiosyncrasy. As each room proved empty of threat and personage, Severus methodically locked them with his own signature. He walked the halls one last time, glancing up and down the halls, taking in the silence. Usually he liked the silence, and as he'd slowly gotten rid of his staff one by one, leaving only Miki and another elf, Wark, that was what he got. But tonight was different.


Severus wasn't just listening to the silence, he was drowning in it. Ever since he'd signed the new contract allowing Satchel to follow his wee little elf-heart, Severus had felt lonely, and not the loneliness of being bullied or ignored. It was almost as if he had just realized he was missing something of his self. [AN: yes, I know that construction sounds strange.]


Severus reached his bedroom, his inner sanctum, the master bedroom at Spinner's End. Part of his library occupied the shelves he'd built when he inherited the estate; he kept only his favorites and his most recent urgent reads on those shelves. Interesting as those shelves were, Severus's attention was drawn to a smaller set of shelves, covered and locked.


Those smaller shelves housed his collection of erotic art and other works of that ilk. As a half-blood, Severus did occasionally indulge in some rather muggle conveniences; he reached down for a remote and clicked on his large, state-of-the-art television and the other equipment. Leaning down, Severus unlocked the smaller shelves and selected a title, turning around to ward his bedroom doors shut, for both safety and privacy. He popped his selection for the night into the equipment and shed his outer robes. The room was dark save for the flickering images on the screen, telling him he shouldn't watch if he wasn't old enough.


Indulging in the warmth of the room, Severus unbuttoned his frock coat, taking it off to drape it across a large walnut chair. As he undid the button at the top of his fly, Severus reached out and opened the velour draperies surrounding his large, four-poster bed. The hunter green fabric moved stiffly, revealing the matching bedclothes. He undid his white silk shirt and placed it with the coat before he finally removed his trousers. Shucking those, Severus slid into his large, empty bed, his boxers lost along the way. Moonlight struck his back as he situated himself, illuminating the scars of all his years as a Deatheater and then spy. One part of him relatively untouched was his groin. As his movie started, Severus reached down to relieve himself, his monster rearing up out of his next of curling black hair. It was quick and perfunctory, and it wasn't long before Severus had clicked off the television and turned on his side, trying to get to sleep.


His last thoughts that night were of how long Satchel had served his family, how the elf had practically raised Severus while his own father beat on his mother, the poor woman. But now Satchel wanted to serve someone else, to find his own mate. Severus had let his oldest friend go, and to the home of someone he truly couldn't stand.


He was growing soft in his dotage.