rivendellrose | fic-bit!

Okay - I wrote this in a few hours over the summer, based off a bit of a conversation that Fey and I had. We were talking about Snape, and she said "He might-every once in a while, after a few drinks--imagine it would be nice to have someone to fetch him his slippers and cook for him. But the thought passes."

And that reminded me of Rex Harrison in "My Fair Lady." Which made me laugh really hard... and then wonder, what would happen if Snape were in a similar situation?

So.... here's the first half or so. There's a bit of foul language, but it's otherwise quite clean. If I *had* to list a pairing, I guess it'd be Snape/Tonks... but it really isn't.

“Come on—you know he’ll agree to it if you bet him that it won’t work! He’ll do it just out of pride.”

Remus Lupin shook his head, arms crossed firmly across his chest. “No, Tonks. I’m not going to put you in danger like that.”

“Oh, I can handle him. Old Snape is just a pussy-cat inside, I’m sure. All that bluster is just an act,” Tonks laughed, brushing her a fringe of bubble-gum pink hair out of her eyes.

“Even if that were true—which I assure you it is not, from the years I’ve known him—you know I didn’t mean Snape.” Remus shook his head. “Merlin, Tonks, can’t you just be pleased with what you’re doing? You’re the youngest Auror in years, and they give you plenty of assignments.”

“Boring assignments," Tonks sniffed. "They’re coddling me and I know it. I want to be out in the thick of things, Remus. I want to do some good for the Order! And that means being allowed to spy on the Dark Lord’s forces. Snape can get me in, and my talents make me perfect for the job, really. I can look like whatever I want, and no one will ever know that it’s really me, because I won’t look at all like myself!”

“There’s more to working undercover than disguise, Tonks.”

Tonks frowned. “I know that, Remus. I’m an Auror, remember? This is my job. I can do it—I know I can. I just can’t get them to let me!”

“And I’m sure there’s a reason for that, Tonks,” Remus assured her, smiling mildly. “I wouldn’t be so upset that they want to keep you out of harm’s way, if I were you. We’ve lost enough good people in this war, already…”

Tonks threw herself back onto an overstuffed chair facing the fireplace. “I know. That’s why I want to do this, in part. If I can infiltrate the Death Eaters, maybe I can get more information for us, help keep people from getting killed.”

“We’ve already got an insider, and if you get caught, you might accidentally cast suspicion on Snape.” Remus pointed out.

“I’ll be careful, Remus. Really I will. You just have to convince him to take the bet—please! I want to help. I know I would be good at this. I just know it.”

“I don’t know… Tonks, it’s so dangerous.”

She scoffed, then looked up at him very seriously. “Remus, I swear, if I don’t get official help with doing this, I’ll do it on my own. I’m tired of being coddled, I’m tired of being given the easy jobs, and I’m tired of watching friends die. Please, just say you’ll talk to Snape.”

Remus looked at her for a moment, and she saw in his sad amber eyes that he was thinking of Sirius, wondering, probably not for the first time, whether maybe he might be still alive if Dumbledore had given him something to do, something to keep him from getting cabin-fever determined to do something on his own. She knew she had him, then.

“All right,” he said softly. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Oh, thank you, Remus! You won’t regret it.” She flew up and hugged him, grinning brightly. “Just remember to phrase it as a bet, and I know we’ll have him hooked. Oh, you’re the best friend a girl could have, Remus!” She laughed and hurried away, tossing off a cheerful wave as she went.

Remus looked after her, shaking his head.

* ~ *

“And you truly believe that clumsy, hyperactive girl would be a good secret agent? Lupin, I believe your condition is beginning to affect your mind. That is, perhaps, the most ludicrous suggestion I’ve heard in years.”

Remus felt almost relieved. Maybe he could just tell Tonks that Snape hadn’t taken the bet…

“If she gives up, we count it as a win for me—forfeit is failure. She’ll give up within a week,” Snape continued, a rare glint showing in his cold black eyes. “Ten galleons it is, Lupin. I’m surprised at you, really—you never struck me as the gambling sort. And you certainly don’t give any signs of having the money to spare,” he added with an unnecessarily cruel measuring look over Remus’ shabby robes.

Lupin’s jaw dropped, stunned, but before he could come up with a good response (or a way to slip back out of the bet), Snape had swept away. And, to Remus’ horror, it almost sounded as though the potions master was chuckling.

At least he could console himself with the knowledge that Tonks had promised to provide the ten galleons to pay off the debt, should she fail to succeed.

* ~ *

The next afternoon, Snape was interrupted by a swift knocking on his door. Brow creased, he called for the visitor to enter, expecting one of his students. Instead, to his surprise, his room was invaded by Nymphadora Tonks.

“Ah, it’s you.” He turned back to the papers he’d been grading.

Tonks tilted her head quizzically, brushing a bit of bright green hair out of her eyes. “Remus said you agreed to teach me. So I’m here for my first lesson.”

“Fine. Sit in that chair there.” He gestured, without looking up, at a chair against the wall across the room.

Tonks complied quickly, then looked up, apparently awaiting further instructions. Snape continued with his papers.
After a long moment, Tonks shifted nervously. “…And?”

“And nothing. You will sit there, silent and still, until I tell you to move. You will say nothing and do nothing. Don’t fidget.”

“How’s that supposed to help me?” Tonks demanded.

“If you can’t figure that out, then think about it while you sit. It will give your mind something to do other than waste space.”

“But—“

“Consider it your first lesson. If you figure out why I’ve assigned this task, you’ll get something to eat.”

Tonks stared at him, her blue eyes wide and shocked, but was silent. Snape shook his head, then returned to his work.
After only a few moments, the chair creaked.

“I told you not to move.”

“This chair isn’t exactly comfortable you know—“

“And I also told you not to speak. Which part of these directions are you not able to understand? Shall I write them out on the blackboard as I do with my idiot students?”
Tonks pouted, but folded her hands and kept her mouth shut.

“Well,” Snape muttered, “you might just survive your first lesson, after all.”

* ~ *

Three hours later, Snape finally stood, gathering his papers. “Very well, Miss Tonks. You have managed to meet my lowest expectations—-feel free to stand.”

Moaning, Tonks got to her feet… and collapsed back to the ground, hand to her head. “Ooh, that makes me dizzy.”

“Back on your feet.”

“I said I’m dizzy, damn it! I haven’t stood in over three hours, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Snape grabbed her arms and hauled her out of the chair, setting her on her feet. “And I told you to stand. If you are to survive as a spy, you must follow my every order. Now. Tell me why I had you sit silently for three hours.”

“Because you’re a sadistic git, that’s why,” Tonks growled, rubbing her tailbone. “My bum’s asleep, you bastard.”

“Incorrect.” Snape smirked. “Tomorrow you can try again.”

“Fine. I’m going back to my room.”

“Ah.” He waited until she’d nearly reached the door. “You’re giving up, then?”

She turned back. “What do you mean?”

“If I am going to teach you, I require that you remain here, in the dungeons. All your time must be spent in an environment I control, and with which you are not familiar or comfortable. You will do as I say, every hour of your day. Every moment of your life will be under my control.”

Tonks’ eyes widened. “Bugger that! You’re not going to control my life like this!”

“I am if you’re to succeed. Please—feel free to give up. Potions supplies are quite expensive, really, and I’ve been looking at the possibility of buying a new mortar and pestle. There are some lovely new models in Diagon Alley, made of Grecian marble…”

“Fine.” Tonks glared at him. “Where am I going to sleep, then? And when do I eat?”

“Hmm, with a memory like that you’ll never survive as a spy—don’t you recall what I told you about food? You may eat when you can explain the reasoning behind your first lesson.” He smirked. “As for where you’ll sleep, I suspect that the ground behind this desk should do admirably. I’ll be sure to request that the house elves bring you a blanket… if you succeed a bit more admirably at your tasks tomorrow, that is.”

“No food, and I sleep on the stone floor without a blanket?”

“Spying is often not a comfortable way of life, Miss Tonks. I suggest you learn that as quickly as possible.” He inclined his head. “Enjoy your night.”

Tonks waited until he’d left the room, then sprawled out on the ground. “Greasy-haired bloody buggering git,” she muttered.

* ~ *

The next morning, Tonks awakened stiff, cold, and sore from the her stone ‘bed’, and not in the least rested. Snape, unsurprisingly, was unsympathetic.

“I presume you’ve thought further about your lesson last night?”

“Of course I have. Not a lot else to do while sitting on your bloody-cold floor.”

“Then tell me.”

Tonks looked up at him, her expression pure defiance. “You were trying to break me—-to wound my pride.”

“Incorrect.” Snape sneered.

“You’re lying—you’re just tellling me I’m wrong because you don’t want to let me eat, or let me feel like I’m doing this correctly.”

“You are not ‘doing this correctly,’ as you put it. And you have yet to give me the correct answer to my question.”

“Fine. Then what is it? I’ve waited enough, damn it.”

Snape smirked at her. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean that I will not give you the answer—you will continue to think about it until you’ve discovered it for yourself. It would be simple, even for an incurably stupid girl like you, if you only thought about it for a moment.”

“You can’t just starve me into submission, Snape,” Tonks snapped.

“Can’t I?” Snape’s eyes were deadly-cold. “That proves just how little you know about working as a spy. Many times, undercover, I have gone days without eating while I attempted to gain the information necessary to our cause.”

Tonks clenched her jaw, still glaring at him, but felt a slight twinge of guilt. His methods were abhorrent, but she had never really thought about what he must go through on the other side. “What will I be doing today?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

She read the cruel amusement in his eyes, followed his gaze to the chair across the room. He wouldn’t… but his smile turned triumphant when he saw her look at the chair. “Again?”

“Until you can tell me the answer,” he replied.

Tonks sat, folded her hands, and began to think.

Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Should I keep going with it? Be gentle please.... after all the peach schnapps I just drank I probably bruise easily. ;)