1On Fire Chapter 10 Finishing Touches

Severus Snape habitually rose with the sun. It mattered little how late the hour when he finally dropped his weary body into his bed, the very moment the sun pushed itself over the horizon to chase away the night, his eyes opened.

So as usual, this morning he awakened at a few minuted after 5 am. His slitted eyes surveyed his surroundings for a few moments as the last lingering vestiges of sleep cleared from his mind.

Shower, hot. Shave, quick. Coffee, black. In that order. His morning routine was as habitual as his awakening.

Another habit of Severus Snape's, that was perhaps more well known, was his customary walk around the grounds of Hogwarts while the castle was still sleeping. He liked his solitary walk and took it regardless of the weather, unless it was terribly inclement.

The early morning air cleared his mind and allowed his thoughts to organize for the day. He was a man who needed an outlet for his excess physical energy, so his morning constitutional and his endless trek through kilometres of twisted Hogwarts corridors, monitoring student activity, were his means of blowing off physical steam.

The frequent opportunities presented for deduction of house points were a bonus for his emotional well-being.

Today, the sun was especially warm on his face and the songs of the birds were especially sweet. This was the last full day of students at Hogwarts for this school year.

Tonight was the annual Leaving Feast and tomorrow the students would depart for their own homes for two glorious months. Of course, the graduating students would return in one week for their commencement ceremonies. But that was tolerable.

Despite the happy feelings that the end of the year invariably brought to Severus, this morning he felt disgruntled. The events of the previous evening continued to disturb him.

How was it that three first year students managed to get down the trapdoor and into the chambers near the hiding spot for the Philosopher's Stone? Managing to put themselves in grave danger in the process.

Severus knew that Quirrell was after the Stone. The whole faculty knew. Of course, it was supposed to be a secret. It was just a matter of when he would try to get to it. The whole protection set-up was a trap. Each of those tests were designed only to slow him down and give the others time to corner him down there.

None of them had suspected that he was actually possessed by Voldemort.

Voldemort. The very thought made him shudder. He was not a man who feared much. But he had personal experience with the Evil that was Voldemort. And last night the child that had defied him a decade ago , met him again and survived. Granted, Voldemort was not the threat he was ten years ago, not having a body of his own. But he was still a threat and Potter could have been killed. Or terribly wounded.

And what of the precious prophesy then?

Snape strode more briskly around the inner perimeter of the Forbidden Forest, his mind racing.

Albus knew the Potter boy and his little friends were up to something. That they would be trying to find out all they could about the mystery on the Third Floor.

But would he listen to Severus' concerns? His complaint that a closer watch was needed on the Terrible Trio? Those three were going to give him more white hairs than the Weasley twins.

At least the twins' mischief was just that, pranks and practical jokes. But the trouble that Potter, Granger and the youngest Weasley boy got into was of a different nature. Much more dangerous. First a troll, then an illegal dragon, and finally life threatening situations, meant for an experienced wizard to find challenging.

At least he had been able to provide Miss Granger with some consequences.

That girl, probably the brightest witch to set foot in Hogwarts for generations, was hellbent on self-destruction. And who knew how many others she'd end up taking down with her? A mind like that needed careful guidance, or it would end up following all sorts of wild ideas, each as potentially dangerous as the others.

Pairing her with the spawn of James Potter and throwing in a Weasley for good measure were ingredients for disaster. He was incredulous that Minerva would have brushed them off, yesterday. Did she have no clue what they were likely to do?

All the same, it was unfair that only one of the trio had been punished for the actions of the three. Miss Granger could hardly be held responsible for the foolishness of her partners-in-crime.

He would have to speak to Minerva about that as well. Suffering their injuries was deserved, in his mind, but it was not punishment for their actions. He had personal experience with Gryffindor students not being adequately punished for their stunts. He was not about to stand by and let it happen in this generation. Not if he could help it.

By the time he had made his rounds and returned to his quarters, Severus was beyond feeling disgruntled, or irritated, even. He was well on his way to being furious. In a quietly determined, Slytherin sort of way.

Deciding it would be better to take breakfast alone rather than risk encountering McGonagall in the Great Hall, and starting his intended conversation in an inappropriate place, he rang for a house elf and ordered his morning meal to be sent to his study.

Having enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in front of the fire in his office, Severus was preparing to leave, to seek out Minerva, when there came a knock on his door.

The wards glowed white, briefly, signifying neither professor or student, and Severus' curiosity was piqued. He was further surprised to find Molly Weasley standing in the corridor.

'Might I have a moment of your time, Professor Snape?' Molly appeared complacent, unruffled, but businesslike.

'Mrs. Weasley,' Severus stood back so the witch could enter.

'To what do I owe this unexpected visit?'

Molly stepped into the office and then took the chair Severus indicated, near the fireplace. He sat in the one opposite, relaxed, but wary.

'I do realize it's early for me to be knocking on your door, Professor, but I feel the need to ask another favour of you.

'I've just come from the Infirmary, having flooed in to check up on my youngest son. He will be fine, thank Merlin, but this latest stunt has made something clear to us.'

Snape tilted his head, encouraging her to continue.

'We have been much obliged, Arthur and I, since you agreed to oversee Fred and George during their time at Hogwarts.

'Merlin knows, they've been much better behaved this past year, having to be accountable to you while here at school. We very much appreciate the time and effort you've put into caring for our sons.

'I tell you, it's been easy on my mind, knowing you're taking them to task when they act out. It's been a rest for my hand, too.' the matronly witch added, dryly.

Severus allowed a small smirk to curve the corner of his mouth, but remained silent.

'I would like to ask you to add Ronald into your care. We would like to give you the authority to discipline Ronald as you do the twins.

'It seems he is developing this poor habit of getting in over his head before he thinks things through; very much a Gryffindor.'

Severus's smirk increased and a small snort escaped. Molly smiled.

'Will you look out for Ron, Severus? He is well aware that these actions at home would warrant a spanking, but away from home he seems unable to act responsibly.

'First the troll, then the whole dragon escapade, in regard to which we sent a very serious letter to him, outlining specific consequences if this sort of thing were to happen again. Charlie was appalled that Ron would be handling a dragon and wrote to us straight away.

'And now to have him involved in some kind of harebrained life threatening scheme to rescue the Philosopher's Stone.

He needs to be held accountable for his actions, the same as Fred and George. As much as I hate to admit it, a detention is not much of a deterrent for my sons.

'Will you take Ronald in hand when he needs it?' Molly sat back in her chair and gazed at Severus, her brown eyes serious.

The dark haired wizard nodded.

'Yes, I can honour your request. It is, after all, my responsibility as a professor of this school, to do all I can to promote accountability in my students.

'We do have the same goal, in the long run.' Snape shifted in his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

'We both want students to leave Hogwarts and enter the wizarding world as responsible young adults, capable of making appropriate life decisions.'

'Yes. Thank you, Severus. You know Arthur would be here with me to speak to you if he could. We are of one accord in this.'

Picking up her handbag, Molly stood and extended her hand to Snape.

He rose from his chair and shook her hand solemnly, looking down at her from his considerable height.

'Now, if only Harry's relatives would accord you the same licence with him. He also seems to need some extra guidance, poor dear.' Molly sighed, and moved briskly to the door.

'That, I'm afraid, is another story.'Severus walked with her to the door and opened it for her.

'Good day, Mrs. Weasley.'

'Good day to you, Professor Snape.'Molly smiled and started off down the corridor, her stride purposeful and quick.

In his office, Severus closed the door and stood there for a moment. Obviously, Minerva had contacted the Weasleys in regard to Ronald's injuries sustained from the enchanted chess set.

He wondered, with a slight smile, just what the extent of Molly Weasley's check up with her son entailed. Perhaps a quick visit to the Infirmary was in order, on his way to find McGonagall.

Ronald Weasley sat up in bed, picking at his breakfast sausage. The infirmary was quiet as he and Harry were the only patients. Harry was still sleeping, cordoned off from the main ward, the drapes pulled around his bed.

Professor McGonagall had said that Harry would make a full recovery. He just needed sleep to replenish his magical core.

Professor McGonagall had also said that she would be contacting Ron's parents in regard to the injury he sustained last night. Just a bump on the head, Ron thought crossly, and now she had to drag Mum and Dad into it.

He knew his parents would be upset with him. After getting bitten by the dragon, Ron had received a letter from his mother, explaining in explicit detail just what would happen if he so much as put one foot out of line before the end of term.

The question was, would his parents wait until he got home on the train tomorrow, or would one of them come up to Hogwarts to discipline him today, like his Mum had said in her letter.

And if one was to come, which would be better?

Ron was appropriately wary of his mother when she got cross and wound up. She could tear a strip off her children with words alone, before she smacked the daylights out of their rear end. But her spankings were over quickly and then there were hugs all around amid tearful promises to do better.

His father on the other hand, while slow to pick up steam, was a forbidding presence when pushed to the point of having to punish his children. His disappointed lectures were agonizing, and when he did decide to spank, his offspring came away very well punished.

Ron shuddered. Either way, either parent, it wasn't going to be pretty. He poked some more at his sausages, his appetite gone.

When the Infirmary door opened with a squeak, Ron jumped, nearly upsetting his breakfast tray. But it was Hermione who poked her head in , looking about cautiously.

'How are you? Is Harry awake? I saw Professor McGonagall on the way here, and she said you both would be fine, but Harry needed to sleep.'

Hermione paused to draw breath and frowned as she came closer and saw that Ron wasn't eating his breakfast with his usual gusto.

'What's wrong? Does your head hurt? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?'

Ron sighed. 'My head's fine. It was just a scratch. I'm just, well, I reckon I'll be in pretty big trouble when I get home.'

Hoisting herself up on the bed by Ron's feet, Hermione looked at him.

'Professor McGonagall said she had contacted your parents. I should think they'd be happy you're alive.'

'Yeah. They'll be happy. So they can kill me themselves.' Ron shoved his breakfast tray aside.

'Remember after Norbert, when I got that owl from my parents that I wouldn't show Fred and George? '

Hermione nodded, her eyes intent.

'Well, Mum was pretty clear on what I could expect if I got in any more trouble at school.'

'So you're worried about going home then.' Hermione concluded.

'I'm more worried they might come up here.' His voice glum, Ron picked at his blanket.

'Well, better your parents than Professor Snape.' Hermione stated, matter of fact.

Ron looked up at her and his gaze sharpened.

'Was he there last night? Did he know we thought it was him after the Stone?'

'Yes, and no' Hermione sighed,

'He was awfully cross that we'd done something so dangerous -

'Voldemort or Quirrell could have killed Harry! Or us, and the Stone wasn't in any danger anyway, what with all the traps and provisions the professors had made...'

'There's more isn't there.' Ron experienced a rare moment of intuition.

'Well, you can guess what happened when we got back upstairs, and you and Harry were carted off to the Infirmary.

'Snape needed somebody to rant at, and stuff.'

Her voice trembled a little in remembrance.

'Did he, you know?' Ron gestured with his hand.

'What do you think, Ronald? That we shared tea and crumpets and he patted me on the head?' Hermione retorted, embarrassed.

'Yes, he did. And yes, it was awful. And yes, I can still feel it today, but I'll live.'

'I guess I'd take my parents over Snape any day.' Ron's blue eyes were sympathetic in his freckled face.

'At least they love me. You can't say that about the Greasy Git.' He seemed cheered by his statement.

'No, Snape certainly doesn't love us,'Hermione agreed,

'But he did seem like he cared, at least a little bit. His lecture included the bits about responsibility and the like. He's certainly not nice, but he does seem to care, in his own way.

Ron raised his eyebrows, incredulous.

'Don't be daft, Hermione. He'll use any chance he can get to be nasty. You ask Fred and George, if you want proof. He's a great black, greasy Slytherin-'

Anything Ron had been about to add was cut off when the Infirmary door opened and in marched Molly Weasley.

Closing the door smartly behind her, she turned and advanced on her youngest son.

'Ronald Weasley! What did I tell you about getting into any further trouble?

'You, young man, better have a good explanation for this!'

'Hermione, dear, lovely to see you. Do be a good girl and give Ron and I a few minutes? I need to speak to him privately.' She smiled kindly in Hermione's direction, never taking her eyes off her wayward son.

Hermione was already off the bed and with a startled nod at Mrs. Weasley, sped out of the Infirmary, giving Ron a wide-eyed look of sympathy.

The door closed behind the bushy haired girl with a soft click.

Molly stood with her arms crossed and frowned at Ron, who was worrying the bedspread into little pleats.

'What do you have to say for yourself?' His mother's voice was crisp and annoyed.

'Do you have Any Idea how much danger you were in last night?'

'Did I not make myself Perfectly Clear what you could expect from me if you were to put One Foot out of line? Ronald?'

'Yes, Mum,' Ron's voice was low, his shoulders slumped.

'Your Father and I discussed what would be best for you, after we received a middle of the night floo call from Professor McGonagall.'

'We decided that we would rather not wait until you got home to discipline you for this brainless scheme.'

'So as soon as I got Ginny settled with Mrs Diggory, who agreed to keep her for the morning, I flooed to Hogsmeade and came straight up here.

'And don't give me that look, young man! You should be thankful it's me that's here and not your father. If he hadn't had an important meeting at the Ministry this morning, he'd be here himself!.'

Ron swallowed, but said nothing.

His mother pulled her wand from her purse and quickly drew the curtains closed around his bedside area. Then she competently cast a privacy charm and pulled the chair out from beside Ron's bed.

Removing her traveling cloak, she placed it and her large knitted handbag on the foot of the bed. She sat in the chair and smoothed her skirt around her legs.

'Up, Ronald!' Molly beckoned to the trembling boy on the bed.

'Let's be quick about this.'

Ron complied, sliding out of bed and inching toward his mother. She immediately took his arm and guided him across her ample lap. Not missing a beat, she had his pajama bottoms and pants to his knees before Ron could take a breath.

'Mum!'

'Don't you 'Mum' me, mister. I told you that you would find yourself over my knee, bare bottom, the very next time you acted out. If you choose to act like an irresponsible child, young man, then you will be treated as one!'

With no further ado, Molly cracked her hand down onto Ron's pale bottom.

'Ouch!' Ron was always surprised at the strength of his mother's arm. Smart spanks rained down over his backside, each contributing to the building sting.

By the tenth smack, Ron was wiggling and kicking his legs.

"Be! Still!" His mother landed two sharp spanks to his thighs and he settled immediately with a gasped,"aah"

Ten more brisk smacks brought Ron to tears, his breath hitching.

Five more on top of that, placed directly at the base of his bottom cheeks had him sobbing over his mother's lap.

The last six were the worst. His mother accentuated each of her words with a mighty slap to the spot where his bottom met his legs, ensuring that he would feel the effects of this spanking for at least the rest of the day.

'You! Must! Stay! Out! Of! Trouble!'

The spanking over, Ron hung over his mother's lap, wailing like the little boy he was. Molly pulled up his pants and pajama bottoms and patted his back. After a few moments, she helped him rise, then folded him into her arms on her lap, passing him her handkerchief.

Ron basked in the comfort of his mother's arms, wiping his face and blowing his nose, until he remembered that he was eleven, and too old to sit on his mother's lap, after all.

Molly smiled softly to herself as Ron pulled himself from her lap, retreating manfully to his former spot on the bed where he sat gingerly on the coverlet.

It was rare that her youngest son allowed her to cuddle him, so she enjoyed it while it lasted. Too bad it was only after being punished that he regressed enough to be her little boy again for a few minutes.

'I hope this has taught you your lesson, Ronald.' Molly's voice was firm, but kind.

'I would hope that we needn't have a repeat of this scenario any time soon.'

Ron shook his head vigorously.'No! I'll be good, I promise.'

'Piecrust promises, Ronald: easily made; easily broken.' Molly chided him, gently.

She stood, replaced the chair and gathered her cloak and purse. Pausing after she drew the curtains back and cancelled the privacy charm, she placed her hand on Ron's shoulder and gave a quick squeeze.

'Have a good trip home on the train tomorrow, Love. Daddy and I will be waiting for you at King's Cross.'

Ron watched as his mum marched to the door, turning as she grasped the brass handle.

'Be good.'

Ron nodded and she disappeared out into the corridor.

Definitely better than Snape, Ron figured, as he burrowed back under his covers, turning onto his side and closing his eyes, the sting in his hindquarters a buzzing reminder of his mother's attention.

Having passed through the Infirmary on his way upstairs, Snape pursed his lips as he strode toward the staff lounge. The image of Ron Weasley's flushed and tear stained little face was fresh in his mind.

Obviously Molly Weasley had been thorough in her interview with her son. She'd certainly had practice.

Charlie and Bill had been mischievous enough, and then when you considered the twins...Severus expected that even Percy, the "good Weasley boy" had experienced his mother's wrath at some point in his life.

Severus was relieved that the Weasley matriarch had come to Hogwarts to deal with her youngest son personally. It made one less student for him to argue about with Minerva.

Striding into the staff room, Severus noted that, as usual, Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall were congregated around the tea set, sharing some humourous anecdote.

They looked up, collectively, as Snape entered and came to attention in front of them, his stance imposing and somewhat defensive.

Not intimidated in the least, the small group waited expectantly for him to share what was bothering him. Minerva had a pretty good idea what was coming and had already formulated her response.

'What do you intend to do about Potter, Minerva?' Severus' deep voice was demanding.

Not quite the opening she was expecting, Minerva looked up at him impassively.

'What about Mr Potter, Severus?'

'How do you intend to discipline him for his actions of late, or do you intend to discipline him at all?'

Snape picked up a china cup from the table and ran a finger over the raised floral pattern on the side. His eyes flicked to McGonagall and back to the cup.

'I would think, Severus, that coming face to face with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, participating in a life and death confrontation with a professor - resulting in said professor's death, and having his magical core severely drained would be punishment enough, don't you?' Her voice was dry and a tad sharp.

Severus delicately replaced the cup on the table. He turned to Minerva, his eyes fierce.

'No, Minerva, I don't.' He paced to the fireplace and turned.

'What you have described were the natural outcomes of a situation Potter heedlessly placed himself in. Those were results, not a punishment. There is no accountability there.'

Severus crossed his arms and waited. Flitwick and Sprout looked from him to Minerva, expectantly.

'Severus.' Minerva spoke slowly, as if to a particularly dense child,

'I'm certain Harry will learn from this experience, and feels enough remorse for his actions without further consequences.'

'Remorse?' Severus snorted and moved to stand in front of the low tea table.

'You know very well Albus will be down there when the boy wakes, commending him for his bravery and offering him lemon drops. Remorse will not enter his empty little head.

'What will stop him the next time he decides to do something so outrageously against the rules? Because you well know, Minerva, there Will be a next time!'

Severus lifted his hands to express his point.

'Last night, I took Miss Granger to task for her part in their little adventure, and you are, no doubt, aware that Molly Weasley has delivered a sound thrashing to her son in the Infirmary.

'Do you think Potter is above being held accountable for taking part in a scheme that could have taken his life? What will it be the next time? Why should he escape punishment when his friends have not?

'Can you not see the pattern that is developing here, Minerva? You cannot continue to disregard their schemes as harmless childish ideas. You have seen the result of not taking them seriously.

'What will prevent Harry from jumping headfirst into the next brainless idea that is presented to him? How can we keep him safe if he is allowed to run wild with no accountability for his actions?' Snape finished with a huff, his voice echoing in the silent room.

McGonagall sat quietly in her chair, digesting what Severus had said.

Sprout and Flitwick watched with interest.

'Perhaps I have judged the situation poorly, Severus,' Minerva began, her voice thoughtful.

'You've presented some very valid points. It would be unfair for Harry to go unpunished while his friends have both been disciplined severely - because I have no doubt that Miss Granger found herself across your knee last night and when I spoke with Molly Weasley she was quite vocal with her intent in regard to Ronald.

'If you think it would be in Harry's best interests for him to receive a spanking as a result of his actions, Severus, then I will not stand in your way.

'I do make one stipulation: ' Minerva held up one finger.

'You must be certain that Harry understands why he is being punished, and what you intend for him to learn from this.

'It is important that he realize you are not just using this as an opportunity to be "evil", Severus.'

Snape rolled his eyes.

'I will not coddle the boy, Minerva. I reserve the right to be circumspect about my reasons for wanting to hold him accountable, but I guarantee you he will know why he is being punished.

'He is free to believe I am evil if he so wishes.' Severus smirked.

Later that afternoon, Harry sat in the Infirmary, waiting impatiently for Madam Pomfrey to dismiss him from her care. The Leaving Feast was this evening and he wanted to spend time with his friends in the common room first. Earlier, Hermione had brought him some clothes so now he was out of his pajamas. He sat on his bed, swinging his feet and watching the clock.

His conversation with Dumbledore had answered some questions and his discussion with Ron and Hermione had been illuminating as well. He couldn't believe that the three of them had been so wrong about things.

Professor McGonagall had been right. The Stone had been too well protected to steal. And Snape had been looking out for him, and protecting the Stone rather than trying to steal it. That boggled his mind.

He was glad he'd been asleep when Mrs. Weasley had visited. Ron hadn't said much, but his obvious discomfort had left no doubt in Harry's mind that he had been spanked. Soundly.

Hermione hadn't mentioned anything outright and she didn't seem to have a sore bottom, but what she hadn't said about her late night discussion with Snape had been telling. And Snape had spanked before.

Harry was glad he'd been asleep last night too.

Professor Dumbledore hadn't said anything about punishment to Harry. Neither had Professor McGonagall when she had visited after Ron and Hermione.

Maybe they considered his experience with Voldemort and Quirrell punishment enough. Harry couldn't help but feel a little confused by the fact that none of the adults had brought up the fact that he shouldn't have been down in the chamber to begin with.

He shuddered when he thought about how he could have inadvertently helped Voldmort get to the Stone. What if Dumbledore hadn't got there in time? Could the spirit form of Voldemort have taken the stone once Quirrell was dead?

Harry's mind flitted from one thought to another. Why would Dumbledore think he should have the chance to confront Voldemort when he was still a boy? Why wasn't he angry with him for attempting something so dangerous when there was a definite possibility that Harry might have been killed?

These questions chased each other around Harry's mind until he was tired of thinking about them.

He was just about to get off the bed and find Madam Pomfrey when Snape strode into the room, his robes billowing behind him and his trademark scowl on his face.

'Where do you think you are going, Potter?' Snape's deep voice irritated Harry.

'Nowhere,' He replied, testily.

Snape stopped in front of Harry's bed and raised an eyebrow. '-Sir.' Harry added, quickly, thinking Snape seemed a little more intense than usual, even for him. Prat.

'You seem to have recovered from your little escapade.'His professor sneered, his black eyes looking Harry up and down, appraisingly.

Harry remained on his bed, wishing Madam Pomfrey would hurry up, so he could get out of here, away from the Great Black Bat of the Dungeons.

As if anticipating his thoughts, Snape motioned with a long arm toward Pomfrey's office.

'We need to have a discussion, Mr. Potter. Madam Pomfrey has kindly allowed me the use of her office, for convenience.'

Why, thought Harry. It's not like I have anything to say to you.

He caught Snape's eye and prevaricated.

'I'm not really feeling that well, Professor..' He trailed off as he realized Snape wasn't buying it.

' I was unaware that I had given you a choice, Mr. Potter.' Snape moved closer.

'If you are feeling too poorly to walk, I suppose I could carry you.'

Harry practically leaped off the far side of the bed. There was no way he would allow Snape to touch him voluntarily.

'No?' the professor's black eyes glinted. 'This way then.'

Harry warily followed Snape into Madam Pomfey's spacious office. The tall wizard closed the door and leaned casually upon the corner of the large desk. He waved Harry to one of the chairs in front of him.

'So. Mr. Potter.' Snape crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose.

'What have you learned from this latest stunt?'

Harry stared at the man defensively. 'I don't know what you mean, Sir.'

'You have broken yet more of rules of Hogwarts, this time putting yourself and your little friends in life threatening danger, not to mention sustaining serious injury as a result. What do you have to say for yourself?'

'Professor Dumbledore -' Harry began, only to be cut off.

'Professor Dumbledore has his own agenda, Mr. Potter.' Snape stood up straight and loomed over Harry.

'You might not be so lucky next time, Potter. You might not have someone to save you from your idiotic schemes.

'I want to know that you will think twice before undertaking such a harebrained, foolhardy venture again.

'And I am prepared to provide you with unpleasant consequences when you break the rules. Did our last discussion about making responsible choices mean nothing to you, Mr. Potter?

Harry shifted in his seat, uncertain whether an answer was required.

'Mr. Potter." Snape's voice was quiet, deadly.

'No Sir. I mean, Yes Sir!' Harry was flustered. Although he knew, deep in his heart that it was right for someone to be taking him to task for his actions, he didn't want it to be Snape!

'I think a remedial lesson is in order, Mr Potter. A reminder, of what you can expect when you overstep your boundaries and embark in foolish escapades.'

'No, Sir! I remember!' Harry's treble voice rose in panic.

'Come now, Mr. Potter, let us employ a measure of that legendary Gryffindor courage'

Snape pulled out the chair beside Harry and sat down abruptly. Their knees were almost touching.

As if in slow motion, Harry watched as Snape's hand reached out and pulled him forward, off his chair and toward the older wizard.

NO, wait, Harry's inner voice was shouting but outwardly he made no sound.

Snape let go of Harry's arm, only to reach down, unfasten his trousers and jerk them to his knees. When his pants followed, Harry gasped and tried to back away.

Snape's large hands caught him and yanked him, unceremoniously, over his lap. Pushing up the boy's shirttail and pinning the small right hand against the white fabric, Snape tucked Harry close to his body and lifted his right hand.

Smack! Snape's broad palm connected with the tender flesh of Harry's bottom.

This can't be happening! Harry thought wildly, as the pain flared.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Harry's body jerked with the force of the blows and his eyes burned with tears.

'You will think before you act!' Snape's deep voice surprised Harry.

'You will cease this habit of acting irresponsibly!'

'You will not take risks or put yourself in dangerous situations!'

Each statement was accompanied by a series of hard smacks that made Harry cry out and writhe under the punishing hand.

Harry was uncertain if Snape had said any more after that point as all he could hear were his cries and ragged breaths amid the sharp sounds of a hard hand striking soft flesh.

After what seemed to be an eternity for Harry, but was likely only a matter of a minute as Snape rarely issued more than twenty smacks, the spanking stopped and Harry was left to cry it out over Severus' knee.

Regaining his senses, Harry struggled to his feet, the pain in his bottom too intense for him to be embarrassed as Snape pulled up his pants and trousers and redid the fly and snap.

'I'm sorry,' Harry sobbed, 'I'm sorry I did something so dangerous.' His little voice wobbled and cracked.

The mental trauma of the previous night resurged and Harry sobbed out his fear, turning into the arms of the one person who seemed to care enough to discipline him for his mistakes.

Taken aback, Severus reluctantly put an arm around the thin back, seeming to realize that Harry needed to release his pent up emotion.

Finally, spent, Harry lifted his head from Snape's shoulder, where his tears had made a large wet blotch on the black wool. Unable to meet his professor's eyes, he scrubbed at his face with his sleeve.

He started when Snape's hand tipped his chin up and used a conjured damp flannel to wipe Harry's face awkwardly. The professor's eyes were unreadable as they looked into Harry's.

'I believe you Mr. Potter.' Professor Snape said quietly.

'And I hope your remorse, coupled with the sting in your bottom, will prevent you from such foolhardy action in the future.'

Harry nodded, jerkily, still catching his breath. The professor waited, silently, until the boy had composed himself.

'Remember this, Mr. Potter. Your year at Hogwarts may be finished, but I will be here in September when you return. And I will be watching you.'

Harry sighed, but felt oddly comforted by the words. If there was one honourable thing that he knew first hand about Severus Snape, it was that he kept his word. But he was still a Git.

Snape stood and ushered Harry to the door of the office.

'I believe Madam Pomfrey wished for me to grant you release from the Infirmary. Something about attending the Leaving Feast?'

Snape smiled a small evil smile. 'You wouldn't want to miss seeing Slytherin receive the House Cup.'

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes as he stiffly followed his professor out of the sterile environment of the Infirmary. The House Cup wasn't the important thing. Harry had made it through his first year at Hogwarts, and, best of all, he'd be able to return in September.