Severus à Go-Go

Severus à Go-Go: The Complete, Annotated Edition

Like any young, hedonistic Death Eater, Severus Snape was enjoying his Friday evening seated in a seedy, darkened bar watching lithe young things slither up and down poles and gyrate on table-tops, all the while baring much flesh. Severus Snape, however, was a Death Eater with a difference. The difference was this: the nubile flesh he was currently ogling was all male.

Snape eschewed the girly clubs in Knockturn Alley frequented by most of the other Death Eaters and rarely even ventured to the one gay bar in Diagon Alley. Ever since Sirius Black had been named Leatherman of the Year he'd become completely insufferable, and Severus found the gay wizarding world too small for his taste. He knew it was risky, sitting here in the Muggle club on Old Compton Street. But on those rare occasions when he did see other Death Eaters, Snape knew they, too, feared the Dark Lord finding out they'd been among Muggles (for a purpose other than torturing them), and could be counted on to maintain a code of silence. As for the wizards who did not support Voldemort, Snape knew how to intimidate them as well, and thus he sat easily at his usual table tonight.

Snape's reverie was interrupted by someone shoving a bottle under his nose and a hand in a place that made Severus jump. "Poppers?" the stranger asked leeringly.

needed. These Muggle attempts at potions were pathetic, to his mind. Being of a curious nature, Snape had once tried the drugs that were so popular at these clubs, but merely learned that they had little effect on the magical body.

Tonight Severus wanted to be left alone to consume as many tacky cocktails as he pleased and to add to his list of reasons why life was unfair. He stared into his tequila sunrise, his upper lip curling as he thought of the only other people who annoyed him more than Sirius Black: James and Lily Potter. Everyone thought they were so perfect - Head Boy and Girl at Hogwarts, married right out of school; he heard they were already talking about having kids. Nobody recognised his accomplishments, nobody acknowledged that the bootlaces of smart were wrapped just as firmly around his ankles as Lily Potter's.

A murmur from the crowd made Snape look up from his drink in time to see Albus Dumbledore attempting to make his way through the packed dance floor. Currently he was stopped near the front door. Severus watched as his former headmaster accepted a leaflet, then continued through the crowd, now smiling indulgently as he was passed a tambourine, now declining the offer of drugs from the same man who'd approached Snape.

"Ah, Severus," smiled Dumbledore, taking a seat across from him and setting the tambourine on the sticky table. "It took some work, but at last I've found you."

Snape stared at Dumbledore with undisguised shock. What was Albus Dumbledore doing in a gay Muggle club, consorting with a known Death Eater such as himself?

"I know you're wondering what I'm doing in a gay Muggle club, consorting with a known Death Eater such as yourself," began Dumbledore with a characteristic twinkle in his eye, "but let's not get hung up on petty details."

Severus tried to respond but all that came out was a choking sound.

Dumbledore hummed a bit to himself and inspected the leaflet he'd taken earlier. "Radical Fairies?" he asked, holding up the tract and squinting at it. "I thought this was a Muggle establishment."

"It is," Snape managed to reply. He swallowed the rest of his drink in one gulp, coughed, and took a breath. "What do you want, Albus?" he asked, regaining control of his usual mutter.

"Severus, I know you think you're doing the right thing, throwing your lot in with these...Death Eaters," even the usually unflappable Dumbledore stumbled a bit over the phrase. "But I have reason to believe -a very good reason, in fact - that your destiny lies elsewhere."

"If this is some kind of trick - " began Snape threateningly, and glanced about the club for signs of Aurors.

"It is no trick." Dumbledore spoke firmly and laid a comforting arm on Snape's shoulder. "No one knows I am here. But Severus, can't you just spare a few minutes and listen to me?"

"Why should I?" Snape moved to leave, but Dumbledore's grip tightened and kept him seated.

"I won't take much of your time," he assured, and Snape had no choice, given Dumbledore's surprisingly fierce grip, but to remain where he was. "I've never given up hope that you'd come back to us Severus, and I believe now is that time." Dumbledore whispered urgently. "It would mean giving up a few things, of course..."

Snape leaned back and laughed harshly. "Such as renouncing my allegiance to the Dark Lord?"

"Well, yes, that," conceded Dumbledore. "But some other things as well. Severus, we've got to talk about your interest in disco. I want you back in my service, I do, but -"

"No." Severus crossed his arms and turned a level gaze on his old headmaster. "Some things are not open to compromise, and my record collection is one of them."

Dumbledore sighed, removed his hand and regarded Severus sadly. He saw from the other man's expression he meant what he said. "Very well. I knew this would not be easy, convincing you. Suppose we forget the Bee Gees for now and just concentrate on the Dark Arts aspect. What do you say?"

Arms still crossed, Severus looked at Dumbledore appraisingly. Part of him wanted to say yes - he wanted another chance, wanted out of the hideous spiral of death, destruction, and double-knit polyester leisure robes foisted upon him by the Dark Lord. Severus had to admit he had not much enjoyed his most recent task of creating a potion to summon demons and other Dark creatures to assist in various Deatheater pursuits; invariably they emitted a most foul and repellant smell, and used language so rude even Crabbe and Goyle had been shocked. Here Dumbledore was offering him an alternative - all he had to do was take it.

But another part of himself reminded Severus that he'd never fit in with all those goody-goody types like Lily and James, flaunting their reproductive heterosexuality and middle-class lifestyle in his face. They'd never accepted him at school and he certainly couldn't imagine they'd accept him now.

"I can't," he said at last, and wished for another drink.

"I'm sorry you feel that way." Dumbledore drew on his cloak and stood up. "There is still time to change your mind, Severus. Not much, but if you have a change of heart in the next twenty-four hours, you know how to contact me." And with a shake of the tambourine, he disappeared.

Snape approached the bar and ordered another drink, pondering Dumbledore's words. He could just bet who had objected to his collection of disco albums. Hypocrites. If they were so fond of Muggles they could be a little more open-minded about Muggle music. If only they knew how much he risked by keeping those records - as a Death Eater, he wasn't supposed to own any Muggle items - but he was certain the Potters wouldn't care. Just another reason he couldn't go back. They'd be bound to taunt him over his schoolboy dreams of winning the Wizard Eurovision contest, a secret ambition that had become unfortunately public when James Potter nicked his diary in the seventh year.

"You look like you could use some company."

Snape snapped out of his reverie and stared at the man addressing him. He'd planned on getting blind drunk that night to forget his many worries, but the sudden appearance of the handsome stranger reminded him there were other ways to drive all conscious thought from one's mind. Looking the man up and down, Severus replied, "You're right. Let's go," and grabbed the man's hand, leading him roughly away.

**

Less than twelve hours after Snape's encounter with the handsome and talented Muggle, he found himself on the road to Dorset with the intention of visiting his mother. Mrs Snape had become a widow at an early age, but had taken such misfortune in her stride. She had embraced the sixties and seventies with an enthusiasm that left Severus no room in which to engage in the typical adolescent forms of rebellion.

Experimentation with Class A magical substances, growing his hair long, not washing his hair, sleeping with men - none of these activities made her bat an eye. At last he had found something he knew would meet with disapproval: joining the Death Eaters. It had been a bit of a lark at first, just some harmless experimenting with the Dark Arts, but soon Severus was sliding down the slippery slope of evil, and it was too late to turn back.

Still breathing threats and murder against Dumbledore's goody-two-shoes supporters, Snape flew along towards Dorset. Suddenly, a burst of light appeared from behind the clouds, blinding him and causing him to fall off his broom.

Groping for his Nimbus 1001, Severus Snape shielded his eyes and peered up, beholding once more Dumbledore's face. "Severus, Severus, why do you persecute me?" implored the Dumbledore-image.¹

Severus hastily felt in his robes and pulled on a pair of sunglasses. "Persecute you?" he snapped. "You're the one who tracked me down last night, you're the one who just made me fall off my broom!"

"You persecute me by denying your true nature, and your talents. You could be a great teacher some day. Hogwarts needs you. Besides, there are plenty of nice young wizards who don't embrace a life of destruction and mindless prejudice for you to settle down with."

Severus felt momentarily flattered, then suspicion flooded over him and he said, "Hogwarts will never allow someone like me to teach. In fact, I'm sure the Ministry of Magical Education will soon be issuing rules prohibiting the school from 'supporting the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship.'"²

Dumbledore sighed. "No, Severus, those are Muggle laws and even those won't happen for many years. You're getting ahead of yourself. For now, simply renouncing the Dark Arts will be enough."

"But You-Know-Who will kill me if I do that! And I'm not speaking in hyperbole - he really will kill me, you know that," countered Snape.

"I know you want to come back to us, Severus. Continue on your way and your mother will tell you what to do." The bright image faded and after a few more moments, Snape climbed back on his broom and did as Dumbledore instructed.

Severus walked into his mother's house warily, wondering if the end was indeed nigh. If Voldemort was going to kill him, Snape hoped he'd get it over with quickly. Rather than being greeted by a dozen hostile Death Eaters, however, Severus merely saw his mother taking a roast out of the oven.

"Oh, there you are, dear. You're late," she fussed.

"Yes. I had an odd, er, encounter on the way here."

"Did you?" She stopped bustling around the kitchen and gave her son a significant look. "I rather hoped you might. What's your decision, then?" she asked, now opening a drawer and sending silver flying to the table.

"I know it will please you no end, but that's not why I'm doing it -" began Severus, but he was cut off by his mother's exuberant embrace.

"I knew you'd come round, I just knew it," she announced happily. Releasing him at last, she now regarded him more critically. "And isn't it about time you did something about this hair?" she scolded, running her wand along the ragged edges of his hair. "It's hardly a dignified look, for a Snape. Your father -"

"Styles change," interrupted Severus, running a hand through his hair and eyeing his mother suspiciously. She was starting to act like a typical mother - could it be some kind of trick?

"I'm so glad you've changed your mind about this...lifestyle of yours," she continued as they sat down to eat. "I've been asking myself where I went wrong. Perhaps it was lack of a strong father figure."

Snape put down his knife and fork. "What exactly are you talking about?"

His mother glanced worriedly around the room before whispering, "Leaving You-Know-Who, of course. What else would I be talking about?"

"Nothing." They returned to their roast. "Dumbledore said you had instructions for me?"

"Yes, I'll give them to you after dinner." And she did.

**

Severus wished he could have re-read the instructions, just to impress upon his mind Dumbledore really expected him to do that, but the parchment had self-destructed after only one reading.

Snape sat alone in his old bedroom, wondering if he had the courage to complete the mission set him by Dumbledore. Still uncertain, he decided to do what any boy would do: consult his mother.

"Mum," he began, running a hand nervously through his long hair, "if you had to do something that would most likely involve seducing a married man, would you feel an obligation to tell his wife? Just hypothetically speaking, of course."

Mrs Snape looked up from her tea. "Well, dear, I'm sure Albus Dumbledore wouldn't ask you to do anything without a good reason."

"Thanks," muttered Severus, his annoyed looks lost on his mother, who stared serenely into the fireplace, unperturbed by the fact that her son had just announced the possibility of his seducing another man. Clearly, he was on his own.

"I'm off, then," he announced, more dramatically than usual, and paused at the front door.

"Good luck, dear," smiled his mother, waving from her armchair.

Annoyed that even his own mother seemed to fail to appreciate the drama of the situation - who knew if she would even see him alive again? - Severus strode purposefully out through the door and into the night.

**

Several hours later, Snape had located the first of his targets. He studied the man from across the crowded room, wondering yet again why Dumbledore was testing him so severely. He supposed it would take a tremendous act of courage on his part for Dumbledore's steadfast supporters to ever believe he was on their side. He just hoped what he was about to do would be enough.

Severus tossed back the last of his drink, stood up, squared his shoulders and walked resolutely to the man he'd been watching all evening. "Lockhart," Snape greeted in a low voice.

Gilderoy Lockhart broke off in mid-sentence and - as his captive listener revived, shooting Severus an intensely thankful look - turned his attention fully to Severus. "Severus Snape!" he squealed.

At the mention of his name, Snape clamped a hand over Lockhart's mouth and pushed him roughly around the corner, out of the crowd. Far from having a silencing effect, however, his actions merely inspired Lockhart to raise his eyebrows and say, "And just as rough as ever, I see," looking Severus up and down.

Snape gnashed his teeth and it took all his willpower to refrain from using the vast array of Death Eater torturing spells he knew against Lockhart. "It was one time," he finally managed to hiss. "One foolish, miserable time."

Lockhart remained undaunted. "As I recall you didn't seem too miserable to me. I knew you'd be back for more. You missed me didn't you? Everyone has."

"Everyone?"

"Why, yes. I've been in San Francisco for the past several years. I just returned last week - didn't you hear?" Lockhart looked mildly affronted at Snape's ignorance, then his blinding smile returned. Slapping Snape playfully on the shoulder he said, "Never mind that. What are you doing these days?"

Snape gripped Lockhart's arm just above the elbow and began to move him towards the back door. "Looking for you, of course," he said through gritted teeth. "I think you could help me with something."

"I'm sure I could. It's been terrible here, hasn't it, what with all these silly Death Eaters and whatnot. It's all anyone can talk about here."

They were just below the way out. Snape paused, tightening his fingers around Gilderoy's arm. "What have you heard?" he demanded.

"Ow, stop Severus, you're hurting me," whined Lockhart, but Severus maintained his vice grip. "It's just about those Death Eaters, how they're terrorising the country, leaving that horrid Dark Mark in the sky - it's not very festive, is it? If only someone had alerted me earlier, I'm sure I could have dispatched with this nonsense years ago."

"You think so?" Snape's eyes glittered in a way that would come to intimidate generations of Hogwarts students.

Lockhart, however, remained immune to the malice contained in those dark eyes. "Of course."

Snape shoved him through the door and began walking quickly down the street, half-dragging Lockhart with him. "And what exactly would you do if you found yourself face-to-face with a Death Eater, Gilderoy?" he whispered.

"Take me home and I'll show you."

**

Next morning, Severus had to admit Gilderoy did know what to do when confronted with certain aspects of a Death Eater. And he'd wormed the necessary information out of him. Now, however, Snape was trying mightily to speed Gilderoy into packing and leaving on the three-day holiday Dumbledore had arranged.

"A free holiday to Amsterdam?" Gilderoy had squealed upon being presented with the tickets. "Severus, you shouldn't have!"

"I didn't," Snape muttered, lips barely moving. "It's from, um, Wizard Weekly. They had a lucky draw and you won. I was looking for you last night to give you the tickets," he lied rapidly.

"Wizard Weekly?" Gilderoy looked puzzled. "I've never heard of it."

"New publication, companion to Witch Weekly. Witches aren't the only ones who appreciate your smile," Snape continued, counting on Gilderoy's vanity to overshadow his limited common sense.

"That's true." Gilderoy preened in front of the mirror, then turned back to his open valise and the piles of clothes on his bed. He began frantically stuffing as many outfits as possible into the bag.

Snape lay on the bed, watching in disbelief. Not only was it amazing Gilderoy thought so highly of his smile, which could easily qualify for a place in The Book of Big British Teeth, he seemed to be attempting to fit his entire wardrobe into one suitcase.

"Lockhart!" Snape barked, momentarily unable to control his impatience. "You're going to be gone a total of three days. For the love of Merlin, what are you doing!"

Gilderoy paused, a horrified expression crossing his face. "You're right! I'd better bring a another bag!" he cried, and Summoned yet more luggage while Severus nearly wept in frustration. He had always assumed Gilderoy Lockhart was an imp of Satan, whose sole purpose in life was to torment those around him, a function he performed with more efficiency than did many highly trained Death Eaters. Now he wondered exactly which demon Gilderoy served - he couldn't think of any malevolent enough to set Lockhart loose on the unsuspecting world.

At last the foppish wizard was packed, and Severus waved goodbye enthusiastically before setting off on his own journey - to Malfoy Manor.

**

"Severus, this is a surprise," greeted Lucius Malfoy, ushering him inside his stately home. "I heard you were on holiday."

"I was," Severus replied tersely, following Lucius into the sitting room. He hadn't been here very often, and tried to avoid flinching at the sight of various stuffed heads of exotic magical creatures. The roving eyes of a Nundu were particularly creepy, and the room always contained a certain fetid quality that made him think the taxidermist hadn't quite been able to overcome the animal's natural taint.

Ignoring the stench, Snape took a seat and cracked his knuckles with anticipation. If everything he'd heard about Lucius was true, there would be no flouncing, no long hours while his partner inspected his appearance before three full-length mirrors. Lucius Malfoy was said to be the biggest, baddest, butch in Britain and it was Severus's earnest hope to verify these claims for himself. After he'd obtained the necessary information for Dumbledore, of course.

"The Master sent me," Snape announced, knowing Lucius would never assume Dumbledore to be the master in question. "He seems to feel I could learn something from you regarding er, torture techniques."

"Really," purred Lucius, looking flattered. "Well, as you know I want nothing more than to serve the Dark Lord in the best way possible. Perhaps I could demonstrate?"

"No, no, not necessary. Just talk a bit about what you've been doing, that sort of thing. Maybe you could tell me about how you stormed the Ministry Headquarters last year."

Lucius smiled expansively. "It was nothing, really," he said, eyes modestly downcast. "Veni, vidi, edi morsiunculam.³ The usual."

Severus frowned, working through Lucius's account. "I came, I saw, I ate a snack?" he asked, puzzled at Lucius' lapse in protocol yet eager to extract the vital details of the coup.

"We were hungry," Lucius snapped. "As I'm sure you know, Dark activities can really take it out of a man."

"Of course, of course," soothed Severus, and urged Lucius to continue.

With a bit more flattery, Lucius soon launched into a rapid discussion of his preferred methods of Dark magic and a detailed account of the Ministry attack. Snape couldn't write anything down, and tried hard to concentrate on what was being said. Concentration became increasingly difficult, however, as Lucius inched closer to him, frequently placing a hand on Severus's thigh and squeezing to drive home a particular point. Indeed, talking about his Death Eater activities had made Lucius excited in a way that Severus couldn't fail to notice, especially when Lucius pressed himself ever more closely against Snape.

Every voice in Severus's head was warning him to flee now he'd heard all the vital information. Yet Severus ignored these nagging voices and turned his own come-hither look on Lucius, who frankly needed little encouragement to pin down Severus and take him roughly in his arms, in the manner of a lusty hero from a paperback romance.

Despite Lucius's artfulness, Severus couldn't help worrying about the possibility of Narcissa walking in on them. Seized with a sudden and horrible vision of being caught with Lucius in flagrante delicto by the vindictive Narcissa Malfoy, Severus struggled to sit up. He'd heard the stories of how she punished unsatisfactory bridge partners and shuddered to think what lay in store for the man who seduced her husband. "Lucius," he panted, "what about your wife?"

"What about her?" Lucius growled, reluctantly pausing in his activities and wiping his mouth.

"What if she walks in on us?"

"She won't. She's gone - indulging her sapphic tendencies over at Castle Busirane. Big soiree there this weekend."

"You mean she's -" Snape broke off his sentence as Lucius resumed his earlier actions, momentarily causing all blood to abandon its path to Severus's brain and travel elsewhere.

"Haven't you ever heard of a lavender marriage?" smiled Lucius, then his expression turned more serious as he took a moment to gaze upon a fully-nude Severus, now sprawled arrestingly on the chaise-lounge. Resuming his ravishing hero manner, he set to work.

"But why did you marry her if you both are gay?" persisted Snape. Strictly speaking, this wasn't information he had been charged with finding out, but his own curiosity drove him to it.

Lucius sighed and paused again. "If I fail to produce an heir, the entire Malfoy estate passes to my cousin, Lovelace Malfoy, the most notorious rake in wizardom. In addition to running through the Galleons in a matter of months, he's no doubt got so many illegitimate children the estate would be utterly dissipated by competing claims. So it's a matter of family honour, really. Now will you please shut up and let me continue?" He growled, running a hand across a particularly responsive aspect of Severus's anatomy.

His curiosity satisfied, and reassured that Narcissa was far away, Severus felt himself beginning to grow light-headed again at Lucius's practised touch and could do little more than whimper in reply. Taking this as implied consent, Lucius bent to his task.

**

Severus was considerably more kindly disposed towards Albus Dumbledore when he finally staggered away from Malfoy Manor the next day. Not only had he easily extracted the key information requested by Dumbledore and completely sapped the strength of Lucius Malfoy, he'd come away from the encounter a very satisfied wizard. Having completed his mission, renounced the Dark side, and seduced Lucius, Severus decided he may as well mount his broom and fly off to the neon lights of Soho, where he'd agreed to meet up with Dumbledore for the final part of their pact.

Dumbledore was already waiting, a Bloody Mary sitting on the table before him. A handsome young waiter hastened over to them as Severus pulled up a chair.

"I'll have what he's having," announced Severus, eyeing the stalk of celery in Dumbledore's drink; he hadn't eaten in what felt like days. Nothing solid, anyway.

"Well?" Dumbledore's blue eyes fixed on him expectantly.

"I've got it all," Severus informed him. "Everything you asked for."

"Excellent. After we finish our drinks we can fly back to Hogwarts, where you will be debriefed."

Severus pondered this for a moment, feeling Lucius had debriefed him plenty already, then shrugged and said, "Okay. And the extra body guards we talked about?"

"It will all be attended to." Dumbledore bowed his head. "I trust you were...careful in all your actions?"

Snape felt in his pockets for his condoms and realised he'd need to buy some more. "Definitely."

"And you didn't find any of the tasks too difficult?"

Severus thought back to his evening with Lockhart and grimaced. "Well, it was a bit touch and go at one point, but nothing I couldn't handle."

Dumbledore smiled broadly and lifted his glass to Snape's. "Well done, Severus."

Severus clinked his glass against Dumbledore's, then took a long sip. True, his one night of passion with Lucius would be their only tryst; even now the memories were quickly turning bittersweet and poignant. And he felt a pang of regret when he realised he'd probably have to use their love-making as blackmail against Lucius to ensure he wasn't killed once word of his treason got around, but Lucius was a gentleman as well as a Death Eater; he knew how these things worked.

Feeling confident, Severus smiled conspiratorially at Dumbledore. "So, what next?"

"Given the highly dangerous work you've just undertaken, I think it's best if you stay out of the public eye for a while. The safest place for you is at Hogwarts, Severus. Not only will it be best for you, our students will need your skills more than ever."

Snape tried to remain modest. "Well, I have had a bit of experience in these things, it's true," he began, already envisioning himself in the coveted post of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Of course you have," agreed the Headmaster. "And it's so convenient, with Professor Swizzle having that unfortunate accident with the shrinking solution, and taking early retirement like that..." He shook his head.

As realisation dawned, Snape felt himself blanch. "You don't mean -"

"Yes!" Dumbledore clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. "You'll be our new Potions Master."

Severus remained speechless. He just knew who had set him up for this - those infernal Potters and their friends. Fine for them to have the mysterious jobs full of glamour, while he gave the best years of his life teaching the ungrateful cretins Hogwarts admitted as students these days. Silently, he vowed his revenge on their first-born children should he ever become their teacher. Then he tossed back the rest of his drink.

Dumbledore, however, seemed not to notice anything. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Snape. Another Bloody Mary?"

***

¹Amazingly, Severus Snape's "conversion narrative" shares an uncanny similarity to that found in the Biblical account (Revised Standard Edition) of Paul's own conversion experience. See Acts 9:1-6. Note, however, that the above tale, written as it is by an author known only as "Minx," must be considered strictly apocryphal in our understandings of Snape's change of allegiance from Voldemort to Dumbledore.

²Here Snape presciently anticipates Clause 28 of the Local Government Bill of 1988, even quoting parts of it directly.

³Taken from Ian Frazer's "Veni, Vidi, Vici, etc." 18-15 June, 2001, The New Yorker, 97+. Snape's translation is in fact Frazer's.