NB: I neither own nor make money from this. All characters belong to the fabulous JK Rowling; I am merely playing with her world.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Draco sniggered as Potter's face fell upon seeing McGonagall race thunderously towards him. He was in for it now!
"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –"
Yes, yes, he'd be expelled, just as Madam Hooch had said! Things were turning out to be even more marvellous than he'd hoped. It had barely been a week into the term and already he'd managed to get that loathsome Potter out of Hogwarts.
"Potter, follow me, now."
Grinning, Draco glanced round at Crabbe and Goyle, who looked equally pleased. Not only was Potter gone forever, but that ridiculous Longbottom would be in the hospital wing for the foreseeable future. Perfect!
"What was it Madam Hooch said? 'Out of Hogwarts before you can say Quidditch'?" said Blaise gleefully, aiming a playful punch to Draco's arm. "Nice one, Draco."
He snickered along with the others. "Just wait until my father hears about it. He'll buy me a new broom as a reward – several new brooms, I expect!"
The Weasley kid butted in. "What, is Daddy going to reward you for getting another kid expelled? Is he some kind of tyrant?"
Draco lunged. "Don't you dare insult my father! My family's clearly superior to a blood traitor family like yours!"
The ginger boy clenched a fist and aimed to punch him but the Granger girl pushed him away and began shouting hysterically at Weasley.
"STOP IT! Gryffindor's in enough trouble as it is; if you hurt him they'll know you've been fighting, and McGonagall will skin you alive if she finds out!"
She did have a point, Draco thought to himself. He had better lay off Weasley for now in case a teacher saw and his ruined his moment of glory by putting him in detention.
"Come on, Crabbe, Goyle. We'll leave this Gryffindor scum to brawl among themselves."
Granger glared at him before announcing to her housemates that they ought to go too, to see what had happened to Potter.
"We'll cross our fingers for the worst!" Theodore shouted from halfway across the lawn.
Later that night at dinner, Draco was displeased to see Potter sitting with Weasley, talking animatedly as ever – the exact opposite of what he would have expected from someone who had just been expelled. After turning his nose up at tonight's pudding, some disgusting concoction that he remarked resembled the insides of a cow ('semolina', Blaise had dutifully informed him), Draco decided to make his way over to the Gryffindor table.
"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?" he taunted.
"You're a lot braver now you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Potter.
Draco looked angrily around at Crabbe and Goyle.
"I'd take you on any time on my own," he replied coolly. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only – no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"
"Of course he has," Weasley interjected, "I'm his second, who's yours?"
"Crabbe," he replied instinctively. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked."
Draco strolled back to the Slytherin table, knowing he as a pureblood wizard would win this duel easily against one who had grown up with Muggles. He knew sneaking out wouldn't be a problem – as long as he didn't get caught. That was the one rule you had to follow, the older Slytherins had told them on their first night. Oh, Snape could make them sign papers promising not to lie or disobey, but as far as he was concerned, anything that happened out of his earshot hadn't happened at all.
A sharp tap on his shoulder woke him from his thoughts. He turned to see the sixth year prefect Gemma Farley holding out a black envelope to him.
"Message from Professor Snape. I'd open it now if I were you, I think it's urgent."
Draco curiously took the note, which opened itself at his touch, reading:
Mr Malfoy,
You are to report to my office immediately after you have finished eating as a matter of urgency. We will discuss today's conduct. Any homework you have neglected to complete until now will have to wait until the morning. Make haste.
-S.S.
Suddenly, the semolina pudding looked extremely appetising, and much to the surprise of his housemates, Draco helped himself to a large portion and began wolfing it down.
"Not cow's insides any more then, Draco?" Theodore smirked as Blaise, one of the few others willing to try a Muggle desert, nodded from his own smaller portion.
"Sudden pang of hunger," Draco explained between mouthfuls. And, truth be told, it wasn't half bad. Anything to put off meeting Snape when he knew what had happened...
How could be know? McGonagall had only seen Harry, and unless those pesky Gryffindors had ratted out on him – surely they wouldn't have had the courage! Woe betide him if they did – Snape wouldn't expel him, but it would be far worse than that. He thought back to the lecture Snape had given to all the first years in his house – "Anyone who breaks the Slytherin Code will find himself over my desk for a sound–"
Ouch! He couldn't, could he? He had hear the rumours from the older students but he'd just supposed they were scaring him with Snape's empty threats.
A swift glance at his silver wristwatch told him it was nearly seven. Draco's stomach twisted; if he were late it would be twice as bad. He felt positively nauseous – why had he eaten so much? His insides were writhing with anxiety, and he didn't think sickness would excuse him from punishment.
"Better go," he said to the boys, feigning calmness. "Got, er... got a book to take back. I don't want Pince on my case," he grinned.
As soon as he was out of the Great Hall he clasped his stomach and ran straight outside, where he vomited all over Professor Sprout's belladonna patch.
Three knocks, then nothing. Another
"Come," ordered Snape's cold, harsh voice.
Draco quietly pushed the door open and went inside.
"Draco. Have a seat," he gestured towards a wooden stool facing his desk. Draco sat.
"I expect you know why you're here."
Draco shook his head. "N...no, sir," he whispered, eyes fixed on a spot of dirt on his left shoe.
"You are speaking to me, Draco, not the floor. I shall ask you again: why have I brought you to my office?"
Draco scowled. "I don't know, sir."
"I beg to differ. I have been made aware of a certain debacle which occurred in your Flying lesson today, in which Mr Potter was flying unsupervised directly past Professor McGonagall's third year Transfiguration class. I believe Madam Hooch gave you strict instructions to remain on the ground. Answer me this: did you obey your professor's order or did you join Mr Potter in the sky?"
Swallowing, Draco replied, "I didn't do anything wrong, sir."
"Are you certain about that? Your broomstick remained untouched on the ground for the entire duration of Madam Hooch's absence?"
"Yes, yes, I'm certain of it."
Severus withdrew something from his pocket and held it out for him to take. "Tell me," he whispered dangerously, "does this help you to... iremember?"
It was the Remembrall – Longbottom's Remembrall. He could tell from the spatters of mud where it had been left behind in the grass.
iSnape knew.
"Mr Malfoy, did you just repeatedly lie to me?" The Potions master held Draco's chin in his hands so he was forced to look him in the eye.
"Y... yes, sir," he replied softly. "I'm sorry."
Snape had never looked angrier. "Go and find yourself a corner, Draco, while I calm down enough to deal with you."
"Are you going to expel me?"
Snape surveyed him carefully. "That is, I believe, what Madam Hooch threatened. But no, I am not going to expel you, though you may wish you had been expelled when I'm finished with you.
"Corner, now. Feet together, hands linked at the back of your neck. You will be still and silent until I call you."
Draco nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak without a sob rising in his throat. He stared miserably at the bare wall, arms drooping and legs like lead. Only once did he try leaning his forehead against the wall – and Snape simply barked "Stand straight" and sent a spell that repelled him from the wall without so much as a glance upwards.
A good twenty minutes had passed when Snape ordered, "Come, Draco.
"Tell me, which of the silver rules of the Slytherin Code did you break today?"
"Both of them, sir," he replied slowly.
"In what way?"
"I... disobeyed what Madam Hooch said and then I lied to you about it."
Snape sighed. "Why did you want to fly without permission in the first place?"
"I fly all the time at home without anyone watching! I'm not six, I wasn't going to hurt myself."
"Yet Madam Hooch expressly told you not to. So this was in no way connected with Potter's escapade?"
Scowling, Draco gave in. "I wanted to get Potter into trouble, all right? I saw Longbottom had left his Remembrall and I goaded him into following me. Stupid Gryffindor honour."
"And thanks to your intervention, Mr Potter is Gryffindor's new Seeker."
"What!" he exploded. "First years aren't even allowed brooms! I thought he was going to be expelled! I bet he hasn't even lost a house point!"
"Potter is not your concern, Mr Malfoy, and neither are they mine. The issue of their discipline resides with Professor McGonagall and I assure you she is more than capable of handling them. For now the question is of your own punishment."
"That's so unfair," Draco muttered.
"Life, Mr Malfoy, isn't fair," said Snape, taking hold of Draco's wrist. "The sooner you learn that, the easier you will find it." He led him over to the green velvet sofa beside a glowing fire.
"W... what are you doing?" Draco whimpered.
"You yourself told me your transgressions according to the Slytherin Code, and you yourself signed less than a week ago to agreement with the consequences of the Code. What, then, is the consequence for mutually breaking the silver rules?"
Draco looked away, embarrassed. "A sp...spanking, sir."
"With?"
"Your ruler."
"That is correct," Snape replied. "Now, I will give you a choice. You may either leave now and go straight to bed, returning in the morning before breakfast for your spanking, or we can get it over with now."
The Slytherin swallowed hard. He knew the waiting was the worst part, so he really had no choice. "I choose now, sir."
"Very well. Slip off your robe and hang it over the chair." Draco did so. "Trousers, Mr Malfoy."
He deftly unbuttoned them and pushed them to his knees. Then Snape pulled him gently but firmly towards himself and flipped the small boy over his lap with apparent ease. Sighing, he raised his palm and began what would be the first spanking of the year, and undoubtedly not the last.
It was not long before the boy was snivelling into the sofa cushions, legs kicking. That was when Snape began to ask the questions.
"Is it right for you to so wilfully disobey strict orders from a professor?" he snapped, swats peppered between words. Draco only sobbed, so he hissed "That question was not rhetorical, young man."
"Noooo, sir! Owwweeee! Ah- ouch!"
"Is it right for you to endanger your own life and the lives of others?" Each question was laden with smacks, the firmness of each one gradually increasing.
"Owwww! No, sir!" he sobbed.
"Is it right to attempt to have another student expelled for your own foolishness?"
Draco whimpered, "No, sir."
"Is it right to then repeatedly lie about it to my face, in order to escape punishment"
"No! No, sir, I'm sorry!"
Five more stinging swats. "Are you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy? Or are you only sorry you were caught?"
"I promise! Just stop, please. Aaah! I truly am sorry!"
"I'm pleased to hear it." He finished with two final walloping smacks before sitting the boy up.
"If you had come to me and confessed, or at least told me the truth when I asked your punishment would have ended there. You know what's coming next, don't you?"
Draco nodded sadly and lent back over his knee. Summoning a wooden 12" ruler, he informed the young Slytherin of his punishment. 10 swats on the bare bottom: four for lying the first time, and six for repeating the lie. He tugged down the boy's boxer shorts to reveal a well-reddened bottom.
"Are you composed?"
"Yes, sir. Please just be quick."
Severus nodded. THWACK! "One," he said calmly.
Draco shifted nervously. THWACK! "Two."
THWACK! "Yee-owww!" "Three."
THWACK! Sobs. "Four."
THWACK! "Ouch! God, Snape!" "Five. Halfway there, young man."
THWACK! "Six." "Aaarghh!"
THWACK! "Seven." "OWWWW! It burns, sir!"
Severus too could feel the heat rising from the cherry coloured bottom too. Now he paused to rise his right leg a little, for access to the precious sit spots.
THWACK! THWACK! Two together – that stung. "Nine. One more."
THWAAACK! It was the hardest one yet, and Draco sobbed heartily. "Ten. We're done, Draco."
He picked the boy up and stood him up to face him. Even standing up, the boy's tufts of blond hair barely reached Severus' chin as he sat down.
"You are forgiven for what happened in the lesson, Draco. I however have reason to believe you picked a fight with Mr Weasley, is this true?"
He hung his head, knowing it wasn't worth trying to think of an excuse. "Yes, sir. He insulted my family!"
"A childish taught you are old enough to ignore. Thanks to the actions of Miss Granger you were effectually prevented from harming each other – you should be grateful to her for stopping the fight or you would have found yourself in detention until you come of age. As it stands, you will merely be writing a letter of apology to Mr Longbottom, which you will deliver in person along with his Remembrall, and some lines addressing the ill effects of Muggle duelling."
"How many, sir?"
"Two hundred, of 'I must learn to control my emotions to prevent me from attacking others.' To be completed over the weekend at leisure. Give them to me in your Monday Potions lesson. The letter of apology I would like you to write tonight and hand in for inspection by me tomorrow before you give it to Mr Longbottom at breakfast. Tonight however you will go straight to your dormitory to write your letter and then at once to bed. I will have a prefect check on you in an hour's time.
Draco began to whine, "I'm not a child, professor!"
"But you are, Draco, and you will obey me. To your dormitory then, and to bed."
"But it's only eight o'clock! And I arranged to meet Potter at–" He stopped himself a second too late. "I mean, nothing, sir."
Snape glared. "Out with it, Draco, or we go back over my knee..."
"But you'll spank me!"
"You have my word that if you give me the truth I will have no reason to spank you. Explain."
Draco looked sullen. "I... challenged Potter to a wizard's duel at midnight in the trophy room. Weasley's coming too, as his second."
"WHAT? Of all the abominable, foolish stunts..."
"You promised!"
"No, Draco, I won't spank you. But I will alert Mr Filch of these goings on so he can be on patrol, and I am giving you detention on Saturday evening. For even suggesting such a foolish idea. First years! Duelling! There is nothing more dangerous than uncontrolled magic, Draco!"
" 'cept perhaps the Dark Lord?"
Severus shook his head in disbelief. "Yes, Draco, the Dark Lord is an exception. Now take yourself to bed and stay out of mischief for once."
The Slytherin smiled and grabbed his black school robe. "My bum kills, Snape," he complained as he leaned over.
"Yes, well, you'll remember that next time you decide to lie to me."
"I am sorry, sir."
"I know. And you are forgiven. But that doesn't let your off your lines or your apology, Draco."
Draco scowled mischievously. "Worth a try." He headed towards the door.
"Oh, and Draco?"
"Sir?"
"Who was your second?"
Damn! Snape thought about these things too much. "Well, sir, would you believe me if I told you I didn't have one?"
"What have I just told you about lying?"
"Just checking, sir!" he replied hastily. "All right, it was Crabbe."
"You had better bring him along to your detention on Saturday then, too."
"He'll kill me, sir, if he knows I snitched!"
Snape walked over to the boy and landed a firm swat over the boy's trousers. "Not if he values his own hide he won't."