Forbidden

Caution: spanking in this story.

"James…?" his friend sounded frankly apprehensive.

James didn't blame him. He turned quickly this way and that, trying to remember which way was the direction he wanted to go.

"I won't lie to you, Dyl," he started, fighting to keep the slight waver out of his voice. He was not scared. No. He'd been sorted into Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake. "But… I think it's probably not the best time to tell you that I'm not really sure where we are…?"

"What!" shrieked Dylan. James winced. "You said you knew where we were going!"

"Well, I did! But… well, now I don't."

"How!"

"I've never been in this deep before!"

"You haven't been in here at all, have you?" Dylan accused, rounding on him.

James' mouth flapped open and closed like a fish out of water as he tried to think of what to say to that. He rubbed the back of his neck. "About that…"

"James!"

"You wouldn't have gone otherwise!" he protested.

"Yes! Because I didn't want to get lost and die!"

"We're not—we're not going to die. It can't be that big of a forest…"

"It's a forest!"

"I really can't think when you're shouting like that!"

"We're dead," Dylan moaned, burying his face in his hands.

It had honestly started out as an innocent little adventure. A very small escapade. It was James' idea, really. With them having named it the Forbidden Forest and all, it was all just too tempting. Despite the fact it was very much strictly off limits for students, unless supervised by an adult. Which they very much were not at this moment. But that hadn't mattered at first, because James was a naturally curious kind of person, and it was really a very miniscule, very harmless idea. To just go into the forest, only just passing the edge of it, just to see what it was like in there.

Of course, James couldn't have stopped there. He had dragged his best mate Dylan along, and Dylan had been a bit wary of the plan at first and would have flat out refused James, in full flow at the time he suggested going in further, if James had told him he'd never once been in the forest in his entire life.

So he may have told his good friend a very tiny, insignificant fib. A mild fib. It had seemed like a good idea at the time…

But then the Dark Forest got even darker the further they walked into it, and the reasonable voice in the back of James' head telling him to turn back and go to his dormitory and rest up before class tomorrow morning was simply not enough to deter him.

Maybe if it had been, he wouldn't have felt so very alone right now, not to mention quite scared.

It was no secret that the Dark/Forbidden Forest received both of its qualifiers for names for the fact that it housed no few amount of different creatures. Some very friendly, but also some… not so friendly. It was, as James had been told, no place for an underage witch or wizard.

He probably should have listened to that very sound, very reasonable warning.

What was worse was that it was nighttime, and they were in a forest, which meant no light was coming in at all from the trees overhead. It also didn't help that while, yes, it was a clear night, it also was only a quarter moon. Not very bright at all.

He'd just wanted to go in. Then he'd just wanted to see a little further in. Then he'd wanted to find the hippogriffs.

That last part of the plan, James had deliberately not mentioned to Dylan, who would have turned around immediately.

In addition to that reasonable voice in James' head, perhaps he should have listened to Dylan too.

"I'm sorry, Dylan," he murmured, giving up on trying to figure out where exactly they'd come from and where exactly they were going. He walked over to his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. Dylan shook him off.

"Don't," Dylan mumbled into his hands.

"It'll be a great story to tell, won't it? That time we got lost in the Forbidden Forest and definitely didn't die?"

Dylan's head snapped up, glaring at James. "Except we are going to die!"

"No, we won't. Look, if we just… if we just find somebody, we can ask for directions."

"Who are we going to ask?!" James opened his mouth to answer, and Dylan cut over him, "Even if we find someone, how will we know they're friendly! They could kill us! We are going to die, James!"

"You're—you're panicking," James pointed out, running out of ideas fast. As fast as Dylan was losing his composure.

Dylan laughed, but it wasn't with humor. "Yeah! I am! And you should too!"

"Dad says panicking never helps anything. You have to keep your head, think on your feet…" He bit down on his bottom lip, turning again to squint in the darkness, hoping that somehow, some sort of path will just reveal itself to them and they could walk straight out of the forest, unharmed…

"This place creeps me out, James," Dylan admitted, wrapping his arms around himself and holding himself tightly.

James could see why. The eerie leaves rustling, birds and other creatures making noises in the distance that they couldn't quite make out. The feeling of a million eyes being on them. When they'd been walking, James hadn't really noticed it—been too caught up in the propensity of an adventure—but now, standing in the middle of the deep forest, it was creeping him out too. Even the slightest noise made caused James to flinch. "Me too," he agreed. "We'll just keep walking, maybe we'll find the edge…"

"Or get even more lost!" Dylan pointed out.

He grimaced. That was true. The first rule of being lost was to wait where you were so someone could find you… but who was going to be looking for two students in the midst of the Forbidden Forest, late at night when they should definitely have been in their beds? They probably won't even be noticed missing until morning.

If they made it that long…

"I can't sit here," James explained, turning back to look to his friend. "It's like waiting for something to come eat me. I'd rather walk—"

"Well, at least you admit that something could come eat us here! This is not at all safe!"

"I—I know. It wasn't my best idea," he admitted. Dylan deserved at least that for coming along with him. "I'm sorry."

"We—we don't even know that many defensive spells, James…"

It was then James noticed how Dylan was shaking.

"I—we'll be fine. We're pretty brilliant, right? We've got it."

"I-I guess."

They stood in silence for a moment. Then James piped up, in a cheerful tone he didn't at all feel: "I've got an idea."

He ignored Dylan's doubtful "Oh, Merlin."

"When we get out of here, alive, then I'll do your homework for a month. All of it. Up to par." He was actually quite intelligent; he just tended to have trouble applying himself. Dylan, too, was smart, but schoolwork tended to stress him out more than it did James. "But we've got to get out of here first."

"You can't do my work, that's cheating," Dylan replied uneasily.

"Then I'll do whatever you want for a month, but we've got to go, Dyl."

"Where are we supposed to go?!"

"That way. It… it looks like where we came from."

"It doesn't at all—"

He was cut off by the sound of wood snapping. It was loud in the eerie silence, and it sounded like a big piece of wood, not just a twig…

Both boys jumped when they heard it; Dylan letting out a short shout and James gasping.

"You should not be here," a deep voice said from behind them.

Both spun, both reaching for their wands, although as Dylan had unhelpfully pointed out before, neither of them really knew any good defensive spells.

Before them, a centaur faced them.

"Wh-who are you!" Dylan sputtered.

The look they got from the centaur was frankly disapproving. "You shout too much, young one."

James swallowed. "Er—we're very sorry—we—we got lost…" He hoped beyond hope that the centaur was friendly.

He titled his head towards the stars, gazing for a moment as if consulting them, then looked back down upon the two students. "It is not safe for young ones this deep in the forest. You must leave."

"We're lost," James said again.

"Yes. Come. I shall see to your safe passage out."

James didn't miss the look his friend sent him, clearly wanting to know if they should trust the centaur or not. Neither of them really knew much about the ways of centaurs. But if they were going to die either way in the forest, James would rather take the chance and trust the centaur to lead them out, rather than try to find their own way back.

He felt the centaur looking at him. "Er—Yeah, sure. Please." Anything.

"You two are but foals," the centaur said, turning and leading the way, clearly expecting the two to follow. "Young. You should not have ventured this far into the Dark Forest. Most here would not think twice about harming young ones like yourselves."

James winced and didn't dare look at Dylan. It'd only been what he'd been saying the whole time. He wouldn't be surprised that if after they survived this, Dylan thumped him one. Or even two. James would deserve it.

"You are the foal of Harry Potter," the centaur said to James. It wasn't a question.

James nodded. "Yeah. He's my dad." Who James really didn't want to think about right now. His father, if he knew, would not be pleased. Nor would his mum be if she heard of it either.

"Yes."

The centaur said nothing else, so neither did James. And Dylan was so quiet James wasn't sure he remembered how to speak.

They were lead through the forest for quite some time, but it wasn't until James started to see patches of light ahead that he began to feel relieved. It was getting less and less dense the further they walked, and James had never been more glad to be done with an adventure than he felt right now. He couldn't wait to see his bed in his dormitory.

The centaur suddenly halted, and each boy paused next to him, confused. "This is where I leave you. You are safe now; the edge of the forest is straight ahead."

Dylan looked ready to collapse from relief. "Thank you, thank you thank you thank you…" Dylan told the centaur.

The centaur held up a hand to hush him. "The forest is no place for young ones," he repeated the words he'd said before.

James got the hint. "We won't be coming back," he reassured as he glanced to his friend. "Once was enough. Thanks."

"Indeed. James Potter, tell your father that Firenze sends his regards. Farewell."

"Firenze?" James repeated, but the centaur was already turning, and then he was off. James watched him go. "Centaurs are a bit… strange. Wouldn't you say?"

He looked over at Dylan in enough time to catch sight of the pent up anger on his face before he tackled James to the ground. "Oi!"

"We could have died, you right git!"

"I said I was sorry—"

"Dead!" Dylan smacked the side of his head. Hard.

"Ow!"

In truth, James knew Dylan could be hurting him a lot worse. But as angry as Dylan was, as upset and scared as he'd been, he'd agreed to go. Frankly, James was just happy it wasn't a punch to the head Dylan gave him.

"You stupid—" Dylan muttered angrily, shoving at James's chest before he stood again, straightening his robes.

James sat up on the ground, hand going up to rub at his head. "I deserved that, all right, but still. Ow." He got up slowly, still rubbing and walked with Dylan out of the forest and onto the school grounds. "Look, I meant what I said. I am really sorry. And the moment we get back to the castle, I'll do whatever you'd like for a whole month… Two, even…"

He heard Dylan 'humph'.

James sighed and they continued to walk in silence. When they were out of the forest, they both broke out into a sprint up to the castle. James wanted nothing more than his dormitory at this point. He didn't care how childish that made him seem, he was tired. It was probably half past two in the morning now.

They'd snuck out of the castle easily enough with the map in James' pocket; he'd nicked it from his father's desk before he'd left for Hogwarts, and James spent months trying to figure out what exactly it did and how it worked. Eventually, when his father had realized it was missing, James had gotten a letter from him about it. Nothing angry; in fact, his father had seemed quite amused. Even said to use it carefully and given James the secret phrase to work it.

When they reached the doors to enter the castle from the grounds, he pulled it out, just to ensure no teachers were about. If they were caught, then they really were dead. After everything tonight, James really would like to keep his life intact.

He scanned the map. "Between here and Gryffindor Tower, it's just Professor Davies and looks like Griffiths too. We'll be fine." He gave it one last cursory glance over and tapped it with his wand, erasing it, and tucked it into his pocket again. "Then we can pretend like this never happened, yeah?" At Dylan's look, he hastily added, "Except for the two months of servitude I owe you, of course…"

Dylan snorted. "You owe me a lot more, Potter."

He nodded.

They made their way up several staircases and quietly and stealthy as cats, or so at least James hoped they were, until Dylan finally whispered, "Where were Davies and Griffiths again?"

"Well—"

"Well, at least one of them is behind you, actually," came an unimpressed voice behind them, and just like in the forest, they both startled loudly.

Professor Griffiths raised her eyebrows at the boys, as that was a decidedly dramatic reaction for her having caught these particular two in the act. She clearly realized there was more to them being out bed than just being out of bed.

James watched her look from one to the both of them, noticing their dirtied robes, their muddy feet, disheveled hair—he knew that if she were to ask, he'd give it up immediately what happened. He was a horrible liar, and Dylan was no better.

They were sunk.

"Where have you been?" she asked sharply. In the quiet, her voice cut like a knife.

It was James who answered. "The—the forest, ma'am."

"The Forbidden Forest?" she exclaimed.

They both nodded. James looked at his feet and sighed quietly to himself, waiting for his doom.

"We are visiting the Headmistress. Now." She snapped in that general direction, clearly wanting them to go first.

James lead, sullenly, while Dylan followed, looking horribly upset. Could tonight get any worse?

Clearly it could. In Headmistress McGonagall's office, they were brought before her, in the middle night, and forced to explain what happened. In details. Afterwards, once she'd heard enough, she had a lot to say about their escapades.

And she'd suspended them.

Then she'd decided to send an owl to their parents right then and there, and James knew that while Dylan's parents might wait to respond in the morning, once James' received it, he fully expected that they'd be on their way to Hogwarts immediately to personally murder him.

McGonagall informed them that they'd be sent home for two days when their parents received her letters by morning, so they may as well head back to their dormitories and pack. Perhaps even get some sleep.

But when James finally reached his four poster bed that night, he did not feel at all relieved, or glad, or cozy. He just felt guilty. He pulled the curtains closed around his bed, curled into a ball, and pretended that he could even stomach the thought of sleep after his very long, very adventurous night.

A few hours later James awoke to stained wet cheeks and an owl tapping at the dormitory window. He rubbed his face a bit before he pulled back the curtains to his bed, going over to the window and opening it. His eyes were bleary from dozing, but he knew from just hearing the pecking at the window that the owl was for him. He didn't even have to see it was one of the family owls to know.

He let Asta in and untied the letter from her leg when she promptly stuck it out for him to take. He made sure to gently pet her feathers and give her a couple owl treats before he walked back over to his bed, hand slightly shaking as he clutched the letter.

Get a grip, Potter. Like you've never been in trouble before. No, he most definitely had been. It was basically his middle name. But that had always been minor stuff. The realization of the danger he'd been in last night was frightening to say the least, and he knew without even needing to read the letter that both his parents would be taking a dim view of it. Especially his dad. As long as James had known, his father had firmly believed in his children being absolutely safe, no matter what. Attempting anything even remotely dangerous was something he didn't tolerate. Mum, neither, but it was the one thing Dad was strict about. He never really was for anything else.

He fumbled with the letter for a long few moments before he finally got it open and scanned the contents. It was Dad's writing, and it was a short letter. Terse.

I'll be coming to collect you after breakfast. When you've finished, go straight to Headmistress McGonagall's office.

Yeah. Like he'd be able to eat today. He did make sure to pack some of his textbooks and other things in his satchel to take home today. He wouldn't need to pack any clothes or anything of that sort, he still had plenty at home, but he knew without a doubt he'd be doing schoolwork up to ears after his parents killed him while he was on suspension.

Suspended. From Hogwarts.

He honestly didn't have the will to leave his bed until he knew breakfast in the Great Hall was finishing and classes were soon to begin. Then and only then did James gather his things, put his trainers on, and head to the Headmistress' office.

His father was waiting.

James flinched when he entered and saw his dad there. Not out of fear; his father was one of the greatest people James knew. And he was a great dad. But that was what made it hard when James was in situations like this; he absolutely couldn't stand disappointing either of his parents. Which was exactly where he was at this point.

He came into the office and quietly shut the door behind him, just standing there with his satchel hanging on his shoulder and his eyes firmly planted on the ground. He felt rather than saw his father cross the room, and next thing he knew, he was being gathered up in a quick, fierce hug.

James shut his eyes tightly as he pushed his forehead into his dad's front, determined he was not going to cry in the middle of the Headmistress' office. He was eleven after all.

His father palmed the back of his head and held him tightly. It was then James realized that the news of what James had done had shaken him.

He didn't know his father knew how to be scared.

After a moment, James was let go as his father pulled back. He felt his chin caught next by his father's hand, gently, as Harry tilted it up so James met his eyes. It wasn't easy.

"Are you okay?"

Not for long… James nodded, albeit shakily.

"Okay. Let's go home."

They used the floo in the Headmistress' office to get home. James hadn't been home since the holidays. Usually, he was pretty happy about going home again, seeing his parents, his siblings… today it was almost unbearable.

He stepped out of the floo in front of his father—they'd come through the fireplace which was in the study—and glanced back at him, again wincing. He knew he was in for a long morning. "Dad…"

"You are eleven years old," Harry started gravely.

James could feel his face heating to the tips of his ears.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it was what you did?"

He nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck as he stared at the carpet.

"The Forbidden Forest is a dark place. It is not a place you go to for some fun. It is off limits to students. That means you do not head straight into it for some sort of adventure! This was not at all in good fun, James Sirius. You could have been killed!" James flinched again as his father began to pace the room. "You had no idea what lives in that forest, no concept of where you might be the further you went in, and you don't know enough magic to have protected yourself from a fully grown creature! There are dark things in that forest, James. You are lucky—insanely lucky—that you happened to find yourself a centaur that deep in the forest, who had a good heart and helped you! You could have very easily—no one would have known where you were—" He didn't finish. James suspected he didn't dare think about those possibilities. Merlin knew James thought about them fretfully all night.

"I… I didn't mean…"

"Didn't mean to go into a place you know very well you ought not to be?" his father cut in. "That's a blatant lie, James. You willingly entered that forest for nothing better than to risk your life for an 'adventure'. Was it worth it?" He asked. It was clearly a rhetorical question, it would be just as life threatening to say 'yes' and his dad didn't expect him to anyway, but James still shook his head in answer.

"No?"

"No, sir," James answered in a small voice.

Harry sighed and took a seat on the edge of his desk, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm upset with you, James. I really and truly am. And I hate telling you this, but I'm disappointed too."

It was the last straw. James hiccupped and felt the tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I am too," Harry told him honestly. "And I'm sorry to inform you, you're getting a spanking."

Now James was well and truly blushing, although he'd been expecting it.

"I'd have thought you were getting too old, but after the stunt you just pulled, I see that you most definitely are not."

Spanking wasn't too common in the Potter household. It only ever was used for the big things, and James had to admit, he hadn't expected anything less. Not after what he'd done; he knew he earned it. As much as he hated it.

"And I am also sorry to inform you, but you've got a dose of slipper coming your way too."

James' head snapped up, his mouth opening to protest. He had half expected that, too, considering the severity of his actions, but that didn't mean it still wasn't a shock. "No!" He'd only felt it once before, when he'd rode his broom outside of the designated wards and around their neighborhood a few times, not coming back until after it'd gotten dark.

"Oh, yes," Harry said firmly, straightening up and going around his desk to open the drawer the slipper lived in. "I will reiterate, again, you could have died."

"Please not the slipper," he whined, tears falling now.

Harry grabbed the implement and came around the desk again, taking a seat on the study couch, beckoning for James to come to him. "I'm sorry, your life is too valued by me and your mum to not slipper your behind for this stunt, James Sirius. This doesn't happen again."

"It won't," James insisted, inching forward slowly, because he didn't dare disobey, but he was not at all happy with his fate.

"We are going to make sure of that. Now, please, James."

James reluctantly crossed the room to him and his father gently tipped him over his knee. Harry set the slipper down for the moment and started in with his hand, landing firm but not harsh slaps to his son's clothed behind.

James, for his part, buried his face into the crook of his elbow and let out his tears; from his pent up fear of last night, from his guilt over his actions, from the pain of disappointing his parents.

Harry's hand fell in a steady rhythm, listening to James begin sob and feeling his heart break at the sound. But remembering the possibilities of what could have happened to James last night strengthened his resolve.

"I don't think we need to discuss why you're here, do we?" he asked, and watched as James frantically shook his head, letting out a tearful, "Noooo…" into his folded arms.

"I sincerely hope this is getting through to you, young man."

"It is!" he wailed.

Harry landed a few more smacks to his son's behind before he paused to pick up the slipper.

James wriggled, knowing exactly what was coming next. "Dad… Please no," he moaned through his sobs.

Harry rubbed his back comfortingly. "Eight with the slipper," he warned softly.

"Daddy," he pleaded desperately.

Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment, his heart going out to his oldest. James stopped calling him that quite some time ago, determining he was too old to call his dad that. Harry hadn't realized how much he'd missed hearing it. "I know," he murmured. "It's almost over."

"Please no more," James begged.

Harry inhaled deeply, summoning his Gryffindor courage to stick through it. He snapped the slipped down smartly and James cried at the impact. He smacked his son with it seven more times then tossed it aside.

He grabbed up James immediately for a cuddle, doing his best to ensure his punished behind didn't come into contact with his lap as he held him.

"I'll never do it again," James hiccupped into his chest sometime later when his despondent sobbing had begun to call.

"I sincerely hope not. Never again, James."

"Never," James agreed quickly, sniffling deeply and trying to regain his breath.

Harry rubbed his back until he calmed. When James began shifting on his lap, he knew that James didn't want to be held any longer. He let him up, and James hissed as he shifted off his father's lap.

"I—I'm really sorry, Dad." Fresh tears welled in his eyes.

Harry took his son's face in his hands gently, using the pads of his thumbs to brush away spilled over tears. "Hey," he murmured. "I know you are. It's okay."

"I really won't do it again. Ever," he told him, hiccupping.

Harry nodded. "I believe you."

"I'm sorry…"

"Hey." Harry tapped his cheek gently with a finger and smoothed his hair back with his other hand. "You're forgiven. It was a bad idea and you won't do it again. It's over."

"We were lost," he whispered, "and I didn't know what to do and I was really scared… Never again, Daddy, I swear."

"I know, love. I know." He pulled him in for a hug again and kissed his head. "Did you eat any breakfast this morning?" he asked knowingly.

James shook his head.

"Okay. Here's what we'll do. I want you to head up to your room, lay down a bit. I'll be up soon with a plate, and if you're asleep when I get there, I'll leave it with a warming charm on your table. If not, you can eat some if you want then take a nap if you want. You didn't sleep much last night either, did you?"

He shook his head again.

"Okay. You head on up and I'll bring you something."

James nodded and went to leave, then turned back. "Oh, er, Dad?"

Harry had stood to put the slipper back in the drawer where it lived. "Hmm?"

"The centaur who helped me and Dylan? He wanted you to know Firenze sends his regards."

Harry smiled a bit. "Ah. Good."

"Who's Firenze? A centaur? You know him?"

"He was my professor for a couple years," Harry explained. "But when I was younger than that, I got sent for a detention in the forest, and I first met him then. In fact, he sort of helped me like he helped you."

"You got lost in the forest?"

"Not quite. But it wasn't safe for me there, even though I was in there with supervision—since it was detention—and he got me out of there. I suppose it's a bit ironic if he or one from his herd did the same for you, my son who also in his first year ended up in the forest," he reflected.

"Did you… did you run across anything in the forest when you were there?"

"Mm. Yes. But that's a story for another time. Go on to your bed now. Oh, and James?"

"Yeah?"

"One more escapade like that and I'm taking the map back."

James, if possible, felt more horrified by that prospect than he had about the slipper. "But you can't…"

Side note, if you're interested: I chose the name Dylan for James' friend based off a popular name at the time James was born.