Finally, an update! I know, I know, I'm so sorry! I just don't have time to write. I've been working on this for ages, finding a bit of time here and there. And I'm in the works of a new story. Hoping to have a few chapters of that posted by June at the latest. And more chapters of this series, of course! I really hope you enjoy this!
Love from DARecruit!
"Grand Entrance"
Severus Snape watched from the steps of the castle as a sputtering Ford Anglia plummeted hundreds of feet in the air and crashed into a large, gnarled tree. The car hit with a thunderous crunch and skidded to the ground. The next few moments went by in a blur. Branches began mercilessly pummeling the car; the sound of wood hitting metal was ear shattering. Professor Snape reached inside his robes and grabbed his wand, about to cast a spell on the car to save Potter and Weasley when the Ford Anglia suddenly roared to life and careened to safety. Snape watched as engine sputtering, it ejected the two young boys, their trunks, and Potter's owl before speeding off into the forest.
"Come back you bloody car!" Ron yelled, his fist in the air. "Dad's gonna kill me!"
"Come on," Harry said as he grabbed Hedwig's cage and his trunk, "We'd better get up to the castle."
The boys hauled their trunks through the thick grass towards the great oak front doors and stopped at the foot of the steps. "So nice of you boys to drop in. Train too common for you, Potter? You are just like your father," Professor Snape said icily, relishing the terrified looks on the boys' faces.
"Professor, w-we couldn't get onto the—"
"Save it for the Headmaster, Potter. Now, follow me," Snape sneered, his black robes billowing behind him as he walked briskly up the front steps and into the entrance hall. Harry and Ron followed like two prisoners going to their execution. They followed Snape into the dungeons, their hearts beating fast tempos in their chests. Harry was certain he and Ron were going to be expelled and he was going to find himself standing on the step of Number Four Privet Drive before the night was over.
Snape led them to his office and ushered them inside. It was dark and cold inside, and Harry trembled. Vials of potion ingredients filled large shelves against the walls, and a fireplace sat eerie and cold on the right side of the room; a huge menacing desk took up a considerable amount of the remaining space. Harry looked to his left; Ron was ghostly white and looked like he was about to be sick.
"You were spotted!" Snape said in his chilling voice, holding out a copy of the Evening Prophet and causing both boys to jump. "I do hope that you enjoyed your little joy ride today boys. You have caused quite a mess that will take the Ministry days to clean up! Seven Muggles are now getting their memories erased! You could have exposed us all today!" Harry's mouth was dry and his heart felt like it was in his throat. Ron was tearing up; his parents were going to kill him.
"You will remain here while I fetch Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. Touch nothing!" Snape said, gliding from the room. He returned moments later with a very irate looking Professor McGonagall.
"Explain yourselves!" she demanded. Her lips pursed, she listened quietly as Ron told the story. After he finished, she gave the boys a piercing look before asking why they hadn't just sent an owl to the school. Harry paled and felt his stomach lurch. Why hadn't he thought of that? He could have sent Hedwig!
"Pr-professor we-we didn't think—" Harry stammered.
"Obviously, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, her eyes icy.
"Professor, please, we're s-sorry," Harry said, his voice cracking.
"Oh you're sorry Potter? You think that is going to make everything better? Famous Mr. Potter—"
"That is enough, Severus," said a voice from the door. Harry turned in time to see a wizened Professor Dumbledore enter, followed closely behind by an angry looking Mr. Weasley. Harry heard Ron gulp beside him.
"Professor Dumbledore, I—" Harry started, but was cut off immediately.
"I already know everything that has happened this evening, Harry. I am very disappointed in the both of you," Professor Dumbledore said quietly. Harry felt guiltier now than he had when Snape was yelling at them. He hated knowing that he had disappointed the man who he greatly admired and respected.
"A-are you going to expel us, sir?" Ron asked in a tiny voice, a few tears spilling down his face.
"Not tonight, Mr. Weasley. But if either of you do something like this again, I will have no choice in the matter. Now Mr. Weasley, since your father is here, I will not be writing home to your family. The same cannot be said for you, Mr. Potter. I have to return to the feast; I will leave these boys for you to deal with, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said, turning to leave.
"Weasley, you will go with your father. I'm sure he wants to have a little chat with you," Professor McGonagall said, and Ron looked like he had been given a death sentence. "Arthur, you may use my office for privacy. I trust you remember where it is?"
"Thank you, Minerva. Come, Ronald," Mr. Weasley said sternly, ushering his son from the room.
Harry's heart sped up. He glanced anxiously at his Head of House. "I must also return to the feast, so I do not have time to deal with you right now, Potter. You will come to my office—"
"Professor McGonagall, I would be happy to deal with the boy myself now, if you would prefer," Professor Snape said in his normal chilling, drawn out tone.
Professor McGonagall took a moment to consider the offer. Potter and Weasley had done something extremely dangerous and foolhardy, and Weasley was being dealt with by his father. Perhaps having a strong male figure deal with Potter would have a good effect on the boy. Severus was definitely a strong man…but he did not hide his dislike for James Potter's young son well. Would he be too harsh? He is a Professor on the other hand, and Minerva was quite certain he would not abuse his authority.
"Alright Severus, I will let you handle Mr. Potter for me," Professor McGonagall said. Harry gave her a pleading look, but she stood firm. "Don't look at me like that, Potter. What you did tonight was dangerous and you deserve to be punished. Professor Snape will deal with you no different than I would," she said, turning towards the door. Right before she left, she leveled the younger professor with a stern glare. Then with a nod, she left and shut the door behind her.
"What did I tell you before Ronald, about what would happen if I ever found out you took the car again?" Mr. Weasley asked as he led his son into Professor McGonagall's office. Mr. Weasley lit a fire with a flick of his wand and moved a straight-backed chair out for himself with another flick. He seated himself and looked at his youngest son. "Well?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
"Y-you said you'd p-paddle us with mum's hairbrush," Ron cried.
"Darn right! I thought I had solved the problem with the first spanking I had to give you, but clearly I was wrong. I won't make the same mistake this time, I promise you," Mr. Weasley said sternly, pulling Ron to his side.
"P-please dad, don't! We-we didn't think! We couldn't get through the p-p-platform!" Ron sobbed.
"You should have waited for your mother and me! Do you know how worried we were when you and Harry didn't follow us through? We thought something terrible had happened! We rushed back and searched the whole station for you! You made your mother sick with worry! And myself! Don't you ever do something like that ever again, Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Mr. Weasley yelled. He couldn't help it; he was upset. He couldn't remember ever being as frightened as he was today; all sorts of horrible scenarios had played through his head. Then he had discovered that the boys took the car, and he was livid. Mr. Weasley had calmed down considerably now, but he was going to make sure Ron felt his displeasure.
Ron knew his father was angry when he used his full name—only his mother did that, and even she only used it rarely. He had really messed up this time, and he knew he deserved whatever was coming to him, but that didn't mean he still wouldn't try to talk his way out of it!
Mr. Weasley felt he had spoken enough and it was now time to get on with the punishment. So, without skipping a beat, he quickly undid Ron's trousers and lowered them to his knees. The boy's pants followed and Mr. Weasley tipped his son over his lap. Ron wiggled and let out a sob. He really didn't want to be spanked, but he knew there was absolutely no way out of it.
Mr. Weasley wasted no time and quickly began spanking. Ron cried out and squirmed, trying his best to escape his father's hardened hand. "Ouch! Ouch! OW!"
Mr. Weasley ignored Ron's cries and continued slapping his hand down, making sure to cover every inch of Ron's bottom.
"Ah! Ouch! Ouch! Ow!" Ron cried, bucking over his father's lap. No matter how many times he found himself in this position, Ron always seemed to forget just how much a spanking could hurt. He was doing everything he could to squirm away from the punishing hand, but his father was a skilled spanker and found his mark each time.
Ron's bottom was by now a rosy pink so Mr. Weasley moved his attention to the boy's sit spots and start of thighs. He peppered that area until it matched in color before pausing. Ron was sobbing by now, apologizing and promising to be good over and over. He would promise absolutely anything if Mr. Weasley would just stop spanking!
"I sincerely hope this is the last time we have to deal with this, Ronald. If I have to repeat this lesson a third time, you and I will be taking a trip out to the shed. Am I understood?" Mr. Weasley said sternly as he reached inside his robes and pulled out Mrs. Weasley's worn wooden hairbrush.
Ron let out a loud sob upon hearing his father's threat; he knew very well what a trip to the shed meant. He had never experienced it himself, but had heard stories from his older brothers Bill and Charlie, and of course the twins, of what happened when dad took you to the shed and Ron in no way wanted his bottom tanned with his father's belt.
Mr. Weasley tapped the hairbrush against Ron's bottom, waiting for the boy to answer. Ron winced at the light pats; even they hurt on his already sore bum. "Y-yes sir! I understand! I un-understand!" he choked out.
"Let's finish this up then," Mr. Weasley said, smacking the brush down hard in the center of Ronald's bottom.
"OWWW! N-no daddy, please!" Ron sobbed, his bottom throbbing in pain. "I'm so so-sorry!"
Mr. Weasley didn't respond and instead landed a further five smacks, making sure to cover Ron's entire bum with the brush. His heart ached but he kept spanking, knowing he would hurt more if Ron had seriously injured or killed himself with today's stunt.
Ron cried and kicked his legs out, but nothing helped ease the fire his father was igniting. He truly was so sorry for taking the car and worrying his parents. "Daddy! I'll—OW! OUCH!—n-never do it a-again! I'm sorry! I'll be—ouch! Ouch! OUCH!—g-g-good! I swear! Please daddy! OW!"
"You certainly won't do it ever again, Ronald!" Mr. Weasley said, punctuating every word with a hard swat. Mr. Weasley then stopped and surveyed Ronald's bottom. It was by now a very deep shade of red and his son was crying heavily. Deciding Ron had indeed learned his lesson, Mr. Weasley stowed the hairbrush back inside his robes and rubbed the boy's back.
"It's all over, son. All forgiven," Mr. Weasley said softly, helping the boy stand and righting his clothes. He then pulled his youngest boy onto his lap and wrapped his arms around him tightly.
"Shhh, that's a good boy. It's all over. All over," Mr. Weasley soothed, kissing Ron's sweaty forehead.
"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape sneered, making his way over to a cabinet behind his desk.
Harry ground his teeth together and vowed not to rise to Snape's taunts. He could feel his blood starting to boil, just as it did every time Snape mentioned his father. It cooled considerably once he saw what was in his professor's hands. Harry watched as Snape walked menacingly towards him, holding a small wooden paddle in one hand and a glass container of what looked like paste in the other.
"He always thought he was better than others as well," said Snape as he moved a straight back chair out. Harry watched as the man hitched up his trousers and flared his robes out so they settled on either side of his legs, ensuring he would have a full range of movement for his task. Setting the paddle on the desk, he turned his attention to the small black-hair child in front of him. "To me, Potter," he said.
Harry took a deep breath before making his way to his least favorite teacher, the man who was about to blister his backside.
"Trousers down, Potter," Snape instructed, unscrewing the lid of the container and setting it next to the paddle.
"What's that?" Harry asked, trying to keep his anxiety out of his voice.
"A salve I created myself. Trousers, Potter," Snape sneered.
"What's it for?"
"If you don't get your trousers down around your ankles in three seconds, I will do it myself," Snape warned, his voice dropping an octave. It sent chills down Harry's spine.
Harry quickly undid his trousers and let them fall to his ankles. He looked uncertainly at Snape, waiting for the next direction. Snape yanked him none-too-gently across his lap before removing his boxers.
Professor Snape dipped his fingers into the container and scooped out a glob of salve. Harry gasped as the cold stuff hit his skin.
"This will protect your skin from any serious damage. Wouldn't want famous Potter's backside all black and blue now would we?" Professor Snape sneered. He wasn't about to tell Potter that the salve also makes the area more sensitive so the spanking hurts that much more. Potter would discover that for himself soon enough.
"Now, shall we begin?" Professor Snape asked, lifting the paddle. He swished it through the air thrice, and was pleased when Potter jumped. Crack!
Harry heard the sound of the paddle hitting him before he felt it. "OWW!" he cried out as soon as the pain registered. He was rewarded with another crack.
The pain was intense and Harry felt sure he was going to be bruised when it was all said and done. "Ouch! Ow!"
Snape set a steady pace, slapping the paddle down on Potter's cheeks three or four seconds apart, just enough time for the pain to grow before the next blow landed.
Harry refused to beg, but his resolve was quickly dissolving with each lick of the paddle. In no time, he was reduced to loud sobs.
"Learning our lesson Potter?" Snape yelled to be heard over the sound of Potter's howls.
"OW! Ye—ouch—yes s-s-sir! I'm s-s-sorry!" Harry bawled.
"And what lesson would that be?"
"AHH! OUCH! Not t-to—OW!—f-f-fly a c-car, s-sir!" Harry cried, tears and snot running down his face.
"Wrong," said Snape as he tipped Potter forward. He aimed his next swats at the boy's sit spots. Potter howled.
"You—need—to—think—situations—through—boy!" Snape scolded, punctuating each word with a hard lick from the paddle.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! P-please, I'm s-sorry! OW!" Harry cried. He bottom throbbed and he wasn't sure if he could take much more.
Snape landed a further half dozen swats before setting the paddle down and standing Potter up. The boy was a mess. Snape was not about to comfort the Potter brat. "Right your clothes and then go stand in the corner until you've calm down," he said.
Harry winced as he pulled his boxers and trousers up. Slowly, carefully, he made his way over to the nearest corner and placed his nose in it.
Professor Snape watched as Potter did as he was told and then went about returning things to their proper place. He set the paddle and salve back in the cabinet for future use and returned the chair to its nook in the corner besides his desk.
Harry willed himself to calm down. Slowly, his sobs turned into hiccups and his breathing returned to normal. The pain in his bottom was still intense, but it didn't throb like it did before. Now it just ached. He couldn't wait to get back to his dormitory so he could inspect the damages.
Snape gave Potter another five minutes in the corner before dismissing the boy. He watched with a smirk as Potter walked stiffly from the room.
Hermione made her way to Gryffindor Tower by herself. She was worried about her two best friends. She couldn't find them on the train or anywhere at the Gryffindor table during the start of term feast. And a horrible rumor that they had been expelled was circulating quickly through the school.
So it was a relief when she rounded the corner and saw two shamed-faced boys staring sheepishly at her. "There you two are! What happened?"
Ron quickly explained. "Now tell us the password, Hermione. I want to go to bed!"
"What were you two thinking? A flying car?" Hermione scolded.
"Hermione, please. Harry and I have already been yelled at by Snape, lectured by McGonagall and Dumbledore, and had our arses walloped. We don't need you lecturing us too," Ron said, rubbing his backside.
"McGonagall use her ruler on you then?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrow. The boys gave each other a pained look and winced.
"No. Dad Flooed here and used Mum's hairbrush on me," Ron said sheepishly, his ears turning pink.
"Well serves you right, Ronald!" Hermione said, causing Ron to bluster. "And what about you Harry?"
"Snape…with a paddle," Harry mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek. He lowered his gaze for a moment before meeting Hermione's. He noticed her eyes had lost the black ice and turned their normal warm brown again. She gave him a small sympathetic smile.
"Well…the password's 'wattlebird'," Hermione said, crawling through the portrait hole before them. Ron shook his head and stared after her.
"I hope she gets it soon. Serve her right," Ron said, making a face at the girl's retreating back. Harry couldn't help but laugh as they clambered in behind her.
"Chances are one or both of us would be getting it with her. You know she only gets in trouble with us," Harry countered.
"You're probably right mate," Ron said, sighing. "I hope it's with you then!"
Harry didn't have time for a retort because as soon as the portrait hole closed behind them, the room erupted in applause and the two boys were surrounded by all of Gryffindor.