I am not JK Rowling, nor do I profit from playing with her characters.

Draco came that evening with a sneer on his face. Harry, resolved to get along enough to avoid punishment, helped him with his bags up to their room. Snape had transfigured the furniture into two twin beds on opposite sides of the room, complete with a small dresser each. Harry couldn't help but feel as if Draco was intruding into his space, but tried to keep that emotion pushed down somewhat. He tried to pretend he was Snape - cold, thinking, unemotional. It's only a week, he told himself.

"I don't want to share with him," Draco spat, seeing the living arrangements. "Can't he sleep on the couch?"

"Mr. Baker and you will be sharing," Snape told him firmly. "There is no reason to not. Perhaps the two of you can develop some camaraderie."

Harry and Draco glared at each other, both of them thinking that impossible. A thought also began to niggle at the back of Harry's mind - maybe he could get revenge on the blond boy. When Harry had visited at Draco's house, Draco had goaded him until Harry punched him, which forced Snape to pretend to spank him to mollify Draco's powerful parents. Harry had been humiliated, but he also had gotten a bit of his own back by implicating Draco in his apology. And now, if he were clever, maybe he could even get Draco in trouble with Snape. The mental picture of Draco over Snape's knee made him smile.

"Great, I'm bunking with a blithering idiot," Draco snarled. "Why is he smiling like that?"

"I have no idea," Snape answered slowly, but with a warning glare towards his ward. "Perhaps he is happy to have you as a house guest."

"Of course I am," Harry smiled, making sure his meaning was the opposite.

"Now boys," Snape told them. "I will leave you to unpack. Dinner is in half an hour, I will call you when it's ready. Perhaps you could make plans of how to spend your time over the next week."

Snape left, sweeping out of the room with his black robes. Both boys watched him leave, and then glared at each other.

"Watch yourself, Baker," Malfoy sneered at him. "Snape will do what I ask him to do."

"Arrogant much?" Harry snapped back. "How do you know that he doesn't listen to me more?"

"You're nothing but the son of a mudblood charity case."

Harry put his hand in his pocket, tapping the coin. He was not going to be able to not punch Malfoy.

"You take that back!" Harry shouted.

Malfoy began to lunge as soon as Snape appeared, and he caught him efficiently before he'd even made contact with Harry. Snape landed a loud smack to the seat of the boy's pants, and then set him down again.

"Enough!" he snarled at both of them. "I have been gone for a minute and you are at each other's throats!"

"He started it!" Draco protested, his face flushed with embarrassment at Snape smacking him in front of Baker.

"It does not matter who starts it," Snape firmly told him. "I saw you about to throw the first punch. You two will get along or I will place a sticking charm on both of you and force you to stay on your beds all day, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," they both mumbled.

"And you will both be sitting on very sore bottoms, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," they mumbled again.

"Good. Now, Harold, you will come downstairs with me as Draco gets settled."

Harry followed him downstairs, hanging his head in supposed chagrin. When they got downstairs, he flashed a cheeky smile at the professor.

"Did I do that right?" Harry asked. "I called you as soon as I thought I needed you."

"That was well done," Snape admitted. "But it would have been even better if you had figured out how to mollify him. Honestly, Harry, I had to pretend that I was a loyal follower to the Dark Lord, surely you can handle an arrogant child like Malfoy."

Harry, not expecting that correction, looked down. He hadn't thought about how much Snape had had to hide his true feelings in order to do his spy work. Then, a hollow place in Harry's heart opened, and a question he could barely acknowledge began to surface. If he were capable of pretending to be a loyal follower so much that even Voldemort couldn't tell where his true loyalties lie, how could Harry know? What if this was all an act so that he could gain an advantage with Dumbledore? Voldemort?

"I'm going to do some reading, if you'd like to join me," Snape invited.

Silently, Harry followed him to the sitting room. He pulled out the book he'd been reading, but could barely concentrate on the words. Had he been 'handled?' Had Snape showed affection to him just so he would be easier? He'd been a trusting fool, Snape had all but admitted to being a master of deception.

Snape settled down in his chair and pulled out the latest book he'd found about parenting and adoption. Ever since McGonagall had forced him to read the first one as penance for unjustly disciplining Harry, he had made rather a habit of perusing different volumes for ideas. This book focused on the dynamics of the first year. The first full year is the most intense, the book read. The first phase is often a honeymoon period, in which the child is on their best behavior and is putting their best efforts into attachment and cooperation. Then, when the child begins to feel safe, they will usually move into a testing phase. During the testing phase they will test their boundaries and push against their caregivers to see if their home is safe and if they are truly cared about. During this phase a parent should set firm boundaries, but also communicate love and empathy. Parents who survive this phase should come out the other side with a child that has begun to become fully attached to their caregivers. In this book we look at these phases in the light of attachment theory . . .

Snape looked up at Harry smugly. It appeared that his parenting had been so exemplary that there would be no testing phase. Surely the boy knew that he loved him and he would do anything to keep him safe, so no assurance necessary. He knew the boundaries were firm, surely he had nothing to worry about. This book is probably more for those pansy sort of parents that have trouble setting firm rules, he smirked.

Dinner was quiet, with both boys looking sulky and non-communicative. Snape silently ate his dinner, surreptitiously watching the boys carefully. If Harry is acting he is doing a really good job, Snape thought suspiciously to himself.

Both boys glowered at each other, angry and just waiting for the other one to start something. Snape sighed, apparently dinner conversation was up to him tonight. When dessert was brought out, he decided to try.

"I believe tomorrow maybe all three of us could fly somewhere together," Snape suggested. "Draco has brought his broom. There is a lake not far from here that we could go."

"So we do fun stuff when he's here!" Harry snapped. "Funny we never do things when it's just me here."

"I told you he loved me more," Draco gloated. "Godson versus charity case, remember?"

"Draco!" Snape snapped, horrified by what the little blighter had said.

Harry, giving in to the rage building in him, lunged at Draco, who was lunging at him at the same time. Soon they were punching each other with relish. Harry suddenly found himself floating in the air, separated from Draco and suspended against his wish. "Let me down!" he yelled, but realized that he couldn't even hear himself yell it.

"You two will stop this now," Snape growled. "This is enough. Now, you will both be spanked and go straight to bed afterwards." He let them both down now, and they did not resume their fight. In fact, they both began to look nervous.

"You will both silently go up to your room now and put on your pajamas and lie face down in bed," Snape instructed. "How well you obey what I instruct will determine how many smacks you get. Now move."

Both boys jumped to obey, the fear of their punishment temporarily overcoming their animosity towards each other. Harry silently put on his pajamas, and then lay down on the bed as instructed. His stomach clenched thinking about his punishment to come, it had been a few months since he had received a spanking. He glowered a bit at Malfoy, blaming him, but then another part of him recognized the real reason behind the spanking. The reason that what Malfoy had said upset him was because the thought it might be true.

Snape appeared in their room, tall and authoritative. Harry buried his face in his pillow, not wanting to look at the man. His stomach clenched. He heard Snape sweep over to Malfoy's side of the room first, and he breathed a sigh of relief. At least Malfoy was getting his first.

Harry heard mumbled speaking, and realized that Snape had cast a muffling charm. He heard the talking, but couldn't understand the words. Then, he heard the sharp sound of Snape smacking Malfoy's backside. Harry peeked out, his curiosity overcoming his self-preservation, and saw that Snape had his hand on Malfoy's back and was smacking him firmly as he lay in bed. Malfoy's face was buried in the pillow, but Harry saw the telltale shaking of his shoulders to see that he was crying. After ten smacks, Snape patted the boys shoulder and murmured some words to him that Harry couldn't hear. He looked away, he did not want to see him comfort his enemy.

All too soon, he felt the presence of the potions master beside him on the bed.

"Care to tell me what that was all about?" he drawled. "I thought we'd talked about you not throwing the first punch."

"He made me mad," Harry answered, grumpily. "He was totally asking for it. And he was about to punch me too."

"You are remarkable cavalier for a boy about to get spanked," Snape intoned, arching an eyebrow. "Care to tell me what you're really thinking?"

"No," he answered, cheekily.

"Harry," Snape sighed. "You have endured far worse provocation than the silliness that fool spouted out. Why lose it like that and force me to punish you?"

"Whether you punish me or not is your choice," Harry snapped.

"All right, we can talk after you have a sore bum," Snape told him, resigned. "Now, do you have any plea for leniency?"

"Just don't spank me worse than the boy you actually love," Harry snapped, a tear forming in his eye.

"I see," Snape answered, sitting down on the side of his bed. "That's what this is about."

"Whatever, spank me already," Harry snapped.

"Harry, I do not love Draco more than you," Snape told him. "Would you really believe that, after all we've been through together?"

"Yes, and how well you've 'handled' me," Harry spat.

"I don't think there's a way I can convince you," Snape admitted. "You're just going to either have to believe me or not. I hope you do believe me, but that is your choice. I also have to punish you for your misbehavior, so I think ten is just, do you disagree?"

Harry grumbled a response, and buried his face in his pillow. He was not going to give Draco the satisfaction of hearing him cry.

"Draco prefers that I not spank him over my lap," Snape told him. "So I will give you the choice this time. Would you rather be on my lap or laying down in bed?"

Harry felt torn, wishing Snape had not given him the choice. He would much prefer to be in Snape's lap, he liked feeling physically connected to the man when he was being reprimanded. But did Draco think only babies got spanked that way? He didn't know how to answer.

"I don't care," he spat, trying to sound angry and strong. He could almost convince himself that he was. "On the bed or whatever."

Snape placed one hand firmly on Harry's back, and said, "You will not fight with Draco any more. This is what will happen if you do." Then, he proceeded to smack Harry's backside hard for ten smacks. Harry gasped at how much the impact hurt, it had been a while and he had forgotten. And his thin pajamas offered little protection against Snape's hand, he hadn't realized that his trousers had buffered the smacks just a little. The smacks kept coming, firm and evenly spaced, until he had to fight the tears from falling. With two extra hard spanks to his upper thighs to end, Harry choked out a sob.

Snape then sat beside Harry, gently patting his back until he was able to calm down. He rubbed softly, willing Harry to breath deeply and to control the emotions of anger and betrayal. Snape allowed himself to feel the edges of what Harry felt, and frowned as he felt the hot raggedness of jealousy. Harry really did think that he would love Draco more.

"Would you like a hug?" Snape asked gently.

"Draco didn't need a hug," Harry snapped back, though succeeded in sounding more as if he longed for one than he was angry.

Sighing again, Snape answered, "There, I cast a glamour. To him it looks like I am sitting and lecturing you. Draco is not my ward, you are. Now, do you want a hug?"

Harry wished that he didn't, he wished that he could say something nasty to force the Professor to leave him. But the truth was, he really did want a hug. That spanking had hurt, and he wanted comfort. And at another level, he also felt bad for fighting with Draco and knew that Snape hadn't wanted to punish him. And he really had been as nice about it as he could have been without sacrificing his honor in not meting out a promised punishment. Wordlessly, Harry crawled onto the Professor's lap and let the man's arms wrap around him. He rubbed his face against the man's robes, breathing in the warm botanical smell that always clung to him from the potions he brewed.

"I hate having to punish you, Harry," Snape confessed, stroking the boy's hair softly. "Will you please endeavor to figure out another way with Draco?"

Harry nodded, not speaking. He knew that he had to.

"Harry, there is something that I have not explained adequately to you," Snape told him, enjoying the closeness with the boy. "For most of the world I am, well, I'm not a nice man. I realize that with you I have . . . softened. I did not realize how much until tonight. But for this to work this week, for me to maintain my cover, I am going to have to appear strict and uninterested. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry sniffed.

"Alright. Good. But here's the rub, I think we both enjoy the . . . relationship we have. I thought we could pretend for the week that I'm disinterested in you, but I see now that it's not going to work. What do you think we should do?"

"Maybe if we have a time every day where you can hug me?" Harry asked. "Then it would be easier to pretend."

"Alright," Snape agreed. "I will endeavor to figure out a way to be alone with you every day for a hug. It is, well, necessary for the both of us. Agreed?"

Harry nodded again, not wanting this hug to be over.

"So you are going to have to do the tough job of hearing me be sarcastic and uncaring and believing that to be false," Snape told him. "You have to tell yourself that it is an act, and that you know better. Understand?"

"I will do my best."

"Good. Now, lay down in your bed and do your best to look like you hate me and are offended and hurt by your punishment."

Harry obeyed, not finding those feelings too hard to conjure at all. His bottom still hurt, after all.

"All right, the two of you," Snape growled. "I have decided against the sticking charm because with my luck you would wet the bed. However, you will find that you cannot leave your bed except to use the bathroom. If you two manage to contrive a way to hit each other again, I will return and administer a spanking that will make that one look like a love pat. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," they both murmured.

"Unless you want to spend the rest of the week stuck to your bed, I suggest you two discuss how you are going to call a truce. I will not put up with these shenanigans any longer. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," they murmured, and Snape left the room with a flourish of robes. Pointedly, he did not close the door. The message was clear; he would be watching and listening.