I am on hiatus from writing longer stuff until after the holidays, but I couldn't resist responding to this reader request from reader LilChaser. They asked if I could write Harry in trouble with Sirius, and I found the mental challenge fun. I've gotten so comfortable writing Snape, and in what ways is Sirius different than Snape? What would it look like if he actually tried to discipline Harry? I imagined a lot of conflicting feelings and awkwardness, and so this story is what came out of it. I'm writing this as a one-shot as I don't feel particularly compelled to continue, but I enjoyed this brief foray into writing Sirius as a dad. Happy Holidays to all!


Sirius grasped the doorknob with trepidation, sighing a heavy sigh before opening the door. What he saw on the other side was what he expected – Harry sat on the bed, looking a bit ruffled and worried.

"Are you alright?" Sirius asked him, entering the room and closing the door.

"I'm okay," Harry answered with a hollow attempt at a grin. "Just a backfiring prank, really."

"Arthur is very concerned," Sirius told him with chagrin. "Concern" might be one word he could use, "furious" could be another. He had told Sirius in no uncertain terms that it was his job to make sure Harry regretted his involvement in the prank, as Arthur himself was doing for Ron and the twins. With a ruler, no less.

"Yeah, he was," Harry acknowledged, looking down. Arthur had made himself perfectly clear to Harry as well when he sent Harry to his room to await Sirius coming and "making sure he understood his displeasure" at the prank. Harry knew that Ron and the twins were in for it, in some way it made it easier that he would be punished as well.

"I thought after we caught you with those extendable ears that you would not have gotten into another prank so quickly," Sirius told him.

"Well, it's kind of boring here," Harry shrugged, his voice defensive.

"I think if it had been a different sort of prank people wouldn't be so mad," Sirius tried to explain. "But this one was a bit – well, destructive."

"We didn't know that the doxies would do that," Harry tried to explain. "We found them in the curtains upstairs and thought, well, they might liven things up a bit. We thought Mrs. Weasley would be able to shield in plenty of time."

"She would have if she hadn't been concentrating on cooking your supper so much," Sirius sternly replied, surprised at himself for how fatherly he sounded. Did he really have the capability to be anything to Harry other than a large playmate?

"We didn't mean her to get hurt," Harry answered, ducking his head in shame. "I would never want to hurt her. She's been very kind to me."

"She doesn't always have her wand with her in the house," Sirius explained.

"Is she going to be alright?" Harry asked, his voice unsure.

"Snape brought some antidote," Sirius answered, assuring the boy. "It has worked fully and she's quite recovered. Although, he did have a few suggestions at what should be done with the lads responsible."

Harry squirmed. "Were they similar to Mr. Weasley's suggestions?"

"Quite," Sirius answered gravely. "He feels you deserved the strap."

"He's probably sad they're making you do it instead of him," Harry said with a bit of a chagrin, paling at the idea of a strap.

"Perhaps," Sirius agreed.

"You are going to, you know . . ." Harry prompted.

"I'm afraid so," Sirius told him. "I don't think either of us really have an option about it."

"We could just say you did and then let them think it," Harry suggested.

"Would you really want that?" Sirius asked. "Going back and being with Ron and knowing that he got punished and you didn't?"

"No, probably not," Harry answered with a wry grin.

"And I couldn't lie to the Weasleys either," Sirius confirmed.

Then, Harry's face got serious and worried, and he managed to choke out, "So it is the strap or the cane then?"

"Have you been caned before, Harry?" Sirius asked in surprise.

"No," Harry admitted, but still looked queer.

"The strap?" Sirius pressed, not liking Harry's face.

"Just a bit," Harry answered, not looking at Sirius.

"I thought your school . . ."

"Not my school," Harry confirmed. "They banned it when I was young, before I ever got it."

"The Dursleys," Sirius confirmed with anger.

Harry nodded, not looking at Sirius. "It wasn't that bad," Harry lied, feeling ashamed. "And they didn't really do it this summer much at all. I think they were afraid when they learned that you had broken out."

"Well, that at least is good," Sirius growled. Then, looking at the frightened boy, assured him, "I'm going to use a ruler, Harry. It will smart a bit, but I promise it won't actually leave marks or damage you. It's what the other boys are getting, so I thought that should be what you get. Okay?"

Harry nodded, though some apprehension stayed in his eyes. Harry had never been punished physically in a reasonable manner before, and it was hard to trust an adult that said they were going to do so. Even someone he loved as much as Sirius.

Sirius sighed when he saw that apprehension, although thought to himself that it would be nearly impossible for a child to not have some trepidation when they were about to be punished. And he couldn't believe he was suddenly the stern father-like person who was going to do it. He paled when he thought of his own youthful chastisements. Would Harry hate him as much as he hated his father in those moments?

"I believe you know what you did that was wrong," Sirius prompted, trying to stall the inevitable for a few more minutes.

"I let loose some doxies we'd found on an unsuspecting Mrs. Weasley," Harry nodded. "She was bitten before she was able to defend herself, and that could have been very dangerous."

"Pranks need to be harmless if they are going to be funny," Sirius told him.

"It wasn't my idea," Harry continued. "But I did agree to it. I suppose I deserve a beating."

"A spanking, Harry," Sirius gently corrected. "Or perhaps you could call it a paddling. Not a beating. Beatings are fearsome things, meant to damage and frighten. What I am going to do is something different."

"What's the difference?" Harry asked, unsure.

Sirius took a deep breath, wondering himself what the difference was. But he knew – the beatings of his childhood were not what he wanted Harry to experience. What he wanted for Harry was something much more akin to what Arthur did with his boys – not that Sirius had any experience of it himself. But he had heard it once last month before Harry had arrived when Arthur had caught the lads in some shenanigan or another. The walls here were thin, and even more so with an eavesdropping charm. Sirius flushed a bit now to think of eavesdropping, but he had been so concerned over the twin's correction that he just couldn't help himself. He had only ever had abuse from his father, and just couldn't believe that Arthur would behave in the same way.

However, eavesdropping put his mind at rest. Arthur had spoken firmly to the miscreants, and had ordered them each one over his knee in turn to be smacked by a ruler. The recipient yelped obligingly, but neither boy had sobbed or begged. Sirius counted the sharp smacks, realizing that they received ten apiece. When it was done, he heard the boy's voices apologize while a bit thick with tears and warm assurances by Arthur alongside a stern rejoinder to not repeat the infraction. When he had seen the boys an hour later at lunch they had both sat down without hesitation and looked none the worse for wear, though perhaps a bit subdued. Sirius remembered feeling relieved that he didn't have to worry about the Weasley disciplinary practices, but found himself at a bit of a loss with how to do it exactly. His own father's treatment of him had been brutal, he wanted something else for Harry.

"Let me tell you what's going to happen," Sirius told him. "That should assure you a bit. I'm going to sit down on the bed and have you bend over my lap. Then I will take this ruler," he brought it out from the pocket of the robe where he had stashed it after Arthur had handed it to him. "And smack your bottom with it. It will sting, but not be terrible."

"Will I cry?" Harry asked, looking intently at the ruler. It was a half meter of long, polished wood and looked a formidable weapon.

"I don't know," Sirius answered. "You might a little. But it shouldn't be so bad that you, you know, cry really hard or anything."

"I've never had this type of punishment before," Harry told Sirius ruefully.

"Neither have I," Sirius admitted.

"But you were raised by your family!" Harry exclaimed, surprised. "I mean, you were their real son, so they must have been kinder to you."

"They beat me," Sirius answered levelly. "I was their son, but this was the ancient and noble house of Black. I was the son that disappointed, and they tried their hardest to convince me otherwise. Most of the convincing involved the cane."

"I'm sorry," Harry told him softly, seeking understanding in his Godfather's face. "At least I had the comfort that they weren't my real parents. They were never nice to me, but when I started to do the accidental magic was when it got really bad. My uncle thought he could 'whip the magic out' of me. He used a belt."

"I'm sorry Harry," His Godfather told him, placing a concerned hand on his shoulder. "I could explain to Arthur that you were abused and ask if you could do an alternative punishment . . ."

"No," Harry answered, straightening himself and wiping a bit of moisture out of his eyes. "No, we can do this. If Ron and the twins are getting this, then so am I. I know you're not going to really hurt me."

"Alright," Sirius agreed. "But how about we make a deal? If it becomes to much just tell me to stop, and I will. There's nothing that says you can't have a break, or break up your spanking a little bit if you need to."

"Thanks," Harry told him. "But wait until I actually say stop, rather than just saying 'ow,' okay?"

"Agreed," Sirius answered.

"How many am I getting?" Harry asked him in a business-like way.

"How about ten?" Sirius suggested.

"Sounds fair," Harry nodded. "You sit down and I'll see if I can put myself across your lap."

Sirius sat down, and Harry awkwardly tried to figure out how to put himself across the man's lap. Eventually, they settled on his feet on the floor, his tummy across Sirius' thighs, and his head propped up on a pillow in the bed.

"Comfortable?" Sirius asked him, settling his weight down.

"I suppose," Harry said with chagrin. "But I don't think that's the point here."

"Probably not," Sirius conceded.

A horrifying thought seemed to strike Harry, and he turned his body to look at Sirius. "We never discussed trousers."

"You have nice trousers," Sirius told him, confused.

"Do you want them, well, do you want to, you know, spank on bare skin?" Harry found himself holding his breath.

"Keep your trousers on," Sirius answered, slightly shocked. "Merlin's beard, Harry, what sort of monsters were they? Even my father didn't do that."

"Don't ask," Harry told him, turning away and burying his head in the pillow.

Sirius had taken a few practice swings at his own thigh before he came up to the room so he would have some idea how hard to swing, but still he found the ruler feeling strange in his hand. Was he really going to do this? To Harry?

"Problems?" he heard Harry ask him.

"I'm not sure I can do this," Sirius answered him. "Not to you."

"You heard Snape," Harry laughed with sudden humor. "I'm pretty naughty a lot of the time. I think, well, if you're going to help raise me at all this might be something you have to get used to."

"That was a pretty naughty prank," Sirius agreed. His heart warmed at hearing Harry talk about Sirius raising him, as if it was an idea he was fond of.

"It was," Harry agreed. "And I do feel bad about it. But it's also a little hard waiting to get whacked, you know? It would be kinder to me to just do it. Or is it, you know, hard for you to do because of your father?"

"I can do this," Sirius replied, convincing himself it was true. He had been an auror, for goodness sake, and a Gryffindor to boot. It was cruel to make the lad wait for it any longer.

"No more harmful pranks," he told Harry in his best stern voice. "You knew better, and now you shall bear the consequences of your foolish behavior."

With that, Sirius brought down the ruler on the lad's backside. They both jumped as the ruler made contact, and Harry let out a startled yelp.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked urgently. Had he applied too much force?

"Fine," Harry replied. "Just surprised. It's okay, you can continue."

"Are you sure you don't need a break?" Sirius asked, realizing it was more for his own benefit than Harry's.

"It's not as bad as all that," Harry replied. "I'm not fragile either; I can take ten of these. Keep going, I'll tell you if you need to stop."

And so Sirius did keep going. He brought the ruler down firmly, wanting to do justice by Molly and also justice by Harry. Too soft of a punishment would have been to communicate that he did think that Harry was fragile. And so they worked their way to ten, Sirius focusing on bringing the ruler down on the rounded part of Harry's backside and Harry focusing on staying still.

"Ouch!" Harry hissed as the tenth one fell.

"Are you alright?" Sirius asked, helping the boy up and earnestly searching his face.

"Fine," Harry answered, wiping a tear from his eye. "It hurt, but I would have felt bad if it hadn't. I think that was probably just right."

"Do you need a healing spell?" Sirius asked him, feeling horribly guilty.

"It's not as bad as all that," Harry told him, a bit of mirth creeping into his voice. "Really, Sirius, it's fine. My bum is probably a little red, but not much at all. It smarts, but is infinitely better than a belting. I've never gotten this nice of a spanking."

"And for that people should be in jail," Sirius answered darkly.

"I'm okay," Harry assured him, though he rubbed his aching bottom a bit. "It did hurt a bit, though."

"It's supposed to discourage you from bad behavior," Sirius told him. "A few light pats wouldn't have done that."

"I promise I'll be good," Harry assured him. "Or at least better."

"And now is the time that I need to assure you of your forgiveness," Sirius told him, then squirmed a bit. "I, ah, I believe that Arthur always offers the naughty child a hug."

Harry blushed a bit, and then nodded, allowing Sirius to pull him in for a quick, rough sort of hug. Harry laughed as Sirius tickled his face with his beard and found themselves laughing together, breaking apart as if they'd been wrestling.

"You will have to apologize to Mrs. Weasley, of course," Sirius told him. "It's a matter of courtesy."

"Of course," Harry told him, trying not to laugh. He did sober a bit, and said, "I really am sorry she got hurt."

"I know," Sirius nodded. "She's resting in the front front room after her ordeal, I believe she may be up for a visitor."

Harry, with one more rueful rub of his bottom, went towards the door. Then, turning back to Sirius, he said simply, "I meant it. You're probably going to have to do it again."

"You're probably right," Sirius answered him, both of them feeling as if this was a settling in where their relationship was going. Harry was, in his own way, asking for Sirius to be a proper father to him. "I shall have to ask Arthur if I might keep the ruler."

"You don't have to actually do it much," Harry told him with a cheeky grin. "Just the threat works most of the time."

"I will keep that in mind, Harry," Sirius grinned back, and then watched the retreating form of his godson. What had he gotten into?