Chapter Thirteen: Dirty Little Secret*

*Dirty Little Secret, All-American Rejects

"Happy Birthday, Mr. Potter," Snape greeted Harry as he emerged from the bedroom rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," Draco called out as he strode down the hallway to the washroom.

"Sorry I slept so long," Harry yawned, "It's the antipsychotics; they're making me drowsy. I guess I lucked out that the restaurant got closed this week due to health code violations; it's given me time to sort myself out."

"That must be the first good night's sleep you've had since this all started," Snape observed, "I'm glad you finally got some rest. You must have been dead tired."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't sleep through my whole birthday, at least," Harry smiled, "We're still going out to dinner tonight, yeah? The three of us?"

"That's the plan!" Draco confirmed, emerging from the restroom, "My treat. Unless you two lovebirds want to ditch me."

"No way!" Harry assured him, "It's your last night in the city. We want to spend it with you before you go back to Britain."

"I'm heading out to the Time Warner Center to do some shopping," Draco announced, "I'd ask you to come, Potter, but..."

"He's broke," Snape supplied, eliciting an indignant glare from Harry.

"Well, I'll be back in a couple of hours," Draco bid them adieu, exiting the flat and closing the door securely behind him.

Harry sat down on the couch next to Snape who was slowly typing out an e-mail on his laptop, one letter at a time. He leaned over, trying to catch the older man's eye.

"What is it? Do you need the computer?" Snape asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Severus?" Harry began tentatively, "Are you...do you think you might spank me?"

That got his attention. Snape set the computer down on the coffee table.

"Now, why would I spank you, Harry?"

"Because it's my birthday."

"But you haven't been naughty."

"Birthday spankings are an American tradition. You give one spank for each year of age, and one to grow on."

"That's obscene," Snape snorted, "You can't just go around slapping people on the arse because it's their birthday."

Harry looked at him expectantly.

"Have you been a naughty boy, Harry?" Snape questioned him, his voice a velvety baritone.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, shifting anxiously in his seat.

"Pray tell, what is it you've done?" Snape asked, amused, "Didn't you just wake up?"

"I...er...well..."

"Speech is hard, isn't it, Potter?" Snape smirked.

"I'm going to eat breakfast," Harry grumbled, standing up and stomping off in the direction of the kitchen.

"It's past noon, Potter. A bit late for breakfast, isn't it?" Snape teased.

"Well...brunch, then. Whatever," Harry muttered, taking out a box of Apple Jacks cereal. He dumped a healthy portion into a bowl and then poured in some soy milk. As he was reaching to open the drawer with the utensils, he accidentally knocked the bowl and its contents off the counter. The bowl smashed when it hit the ceramic floor, while the milk and cereal splattered everywhere. "FUCK!"

Snape stood up and strode to the kitchen upon hearing the crash and ensuing expletive.

"Watch your language, young man," he said coldly, "And clean up your mess."

"And if I don't?" Harry challenged him, "Why should I have to do housework? It's my birthday."

"You are on very thin ice, Mr. Potter," Snape intoned stiffly, "Clean up your mess. Now."

"No!" Harry stomped his foot, "I won't clean it up. You clean it up!"

"Last chance, Potter," Snape warned him.

With that, Harry opened up a cupboard, took out another bowl, and willfully smashed it on the floor. At that same exact moment, Draco came back into the apartment, having forgotten his wallet. Neither Harry nor Snape noticed Draco's return as the sound of shattering porcelain masked that of the click of the apartment door.

Draco was concerned when he heard the crash. Peeking around the corner of the entryway, he saw Snape and Harry in the kitchen. Snape looked furious and Harry looked like he was in the throes of a temper tantrum. With wide eyes, Draco watched as Snape stalked across the kitchen and withdrew a wooden spoon from an open drawer.

Then, grabbing Harry by the collar of his sleepshirt, Snape dragged him across the room. Sitting down in an armless chair, he tipped Harry over his knee and tugged down his sleep bottoms, revealing the boy's bare bum.

Draco was speechless. He could not believe what he was seeing! Snape was about to give Harry a spanking! Was this normal behaviour for non-magical couples? Was this abusive? Was it sexual?

"Please, sir. It's my birthday!" Harry whimpered as he hung bare-bottomed over Snape's lap, "I promise I'll be a good boy for the rest of the day. Please don't spank me."

"Good boys don't throw their breakfast cereal and break dishes," Snape scolded him, "Being the birthday boy doesn't exempt you from a well-deserved smacking. I'm sorry, but because you were naughty, I am going to have to spank your bare bum."

Harry started to cry as Snape picked up the wooden spoon. Draco continued to watch the scene unfold in disbelief. Should he leave? Should he intervene? Was Harry all right?

Snape raised the wooden spoon in the air and cracked it down hard on Harry's milky white bottom, leaving a red splotch.

"WAH!" Harry bawled, beginning to squirm.

Again and again, Snape smacked Harry's bare bum with the wooden spoon. Draco could not tear his eyes away, watching as Harry's wiggling bottom was beaten red.

"Ow! It hurts! Please, sir!" Harry protested.

"It is supposed to hurt, Potter. It is a spanking," Snape stated crisply, landing a particularly forceful smack.

Snape continued to soundly spank Harry until thirty-one swats had been administered. He then replaced Harry's pyjama bottoms, hiding the evidence of the boy's recent correction.

"You may rise, Mr. Potter," Snape said formally.

Harry stood before him, sniffling and rubbing his sore bum. Snape stood up, too, and warmly embraced the pyjama-clad boy.

"That was quite the performance," Snape snorted softly, "I didn't plan to come down on you quite so hard, but you were really asking for it, brat."

"I don't know how I'm going to sit at dinner," Harry pouted, "You don't think Draco will know I got my bum smacked, do you?"

"No, love," Snape chuckled, "He won't suspect a thing."

His heart pounding, Draco stood by the apartment door waiting for a chance to escape unnoticed. Finally, when the couple retreated to the bedroom, Draco snatched his wallet from the kitchen table and bolted from the flat with a boner rivalling the Empire State Building.