I fear this has been long overdue! But here it is anyway, a little bit longer than the previous few chapters :)
I'm heading to England in a few days, and so I won't be updatng before the 12th of July. I'll try to write some while I'm away though, so hopefully (with no promises, as I always seem to break them) it won't take very long after I get back for an update.
Also: this chapter contains a spanking. There's a warning in chapter one, but I felt I'd just point it out. Feel free to skip it if it bothers you; I'd rather not have any angry e-mails.
Please leave a review, whether it be constructive criticism or just saying hi.
Have a lovely summer!
Ivy
"Where's Harry?"
"… must sign your name right here, Mr Black," the brusque man continued, as if he had not heard Sirius' question. Holding the quill stiffly, his fingers unused to the action, Sirius stared at the man, who looked pointedly away.
"Where is my godson?"
"I really must insist that you put your signature on the line right here, Mr Black, as these forms—"
"Ensure my release, yes I know," Sirius snapped, scratching down a wobbly signature at the bottom of the indicated page. The parchment popped out of existence, and the fancy quill was immediately taken from his rough hand.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Black." Sirius nodded curtly, before following the other couple of men who would lead him to one of the Ministry quarters, where he would spend the evening and night before he was set back into the real world at 8 AM the following morning. He did not see his surroundings as they marched, did not note the staring onlookers. I must find Harry.
"It's my birthday in three weeks today!" Harry exclaimed as he bounded out of his room one morning. Severus, dressed properly in his full robes already at seven thirty, slowly raised his gaze from the morning Prophet, giving the boy his customary, dull look.
"I am aware of the date," he remarked, shaking out the paper and returning to his morning reading. Harry, not to be deterred by his guardian's ever-present misery, skipped over to the table, scrambled up on the chair and began buttering a piece of toast with such vigour that it almost sent the jug of juice to the floor. "Harry." He looked up at the sharp admonishment, grimaced, but slowed down considerably. After munching on his breakfast for a few minutes, Harry suddenly stopped dead and stared at the Potions Master, his small eyes filled with dread.
"It's Wednesday today."
"Thank you for clearing up the obvious, Mr Potter," Severus said with a snort of sarcasm.
"That means my birthday will be on a Wednesday."
"Indeed it does."
"But I have lessons on Wednesdays!" Harry immediately exclaimed, dropping the toast to his plate, his eyes taking on an almost crazed look. "I can't have lessons on my birthday, Snape!" The Prophet immediately fell down to the table, revealing the pale, frowning face of Severus.
"That's Professor Snape, young man. And yes, you will still have your lessons. You'd have lessons on your birthday if you went to Hogwarts."
"But I don't go to Hogwarts yet, sir!" Harry whinged on, his lips wobbling.
"Oh, do cease this impudent display," Severus snapped, flicking a minimal crumb off his sleeve.
"But please…"
"You will have your lessons, Harry, and that is the end of this discussion," Severus said with finality, rising and banishing the rest of their breakfast things with an impatient flick of his wand. "Now fetch your things. Professor Burbage is expecting you in fifteen minutes." Harry's jaw worked for a moment, before he jumped off the chair and stomped to his room. Severus forced himself not to march after the boy and correct his behaviour, and opted to remain standing stiffly close to the door. Though he was stock still, physically, his mind was working at a furious rate. Recently, he felt as though he was giving the boy far too much freedom. Without forcing himself to do so, which was even stranger. On the contrary, he generally found himself absolutely astounded at the amount of patience he had for the child and his antics. The Headmaster had of course predicted such an alteration in the normally dour Potions Master, for he seemed to smile wistfully every time he lay eyes on Severus. He almost snorted. Severus Snape, a family man? The very idea.
"—not really fair," was all Severus heard of Harry's muttering as the boy re-entered the room.
"Pardon?"
"What?" Severus sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What is it you are grumbling so insistently about?" Harry looked sheepishly up at his guardian.
"Oh." Was I really saying that aloud?
"Oh indeed. Hmm?"
"It's just…" Harry fidgeted. "It's weird."
"Do elaborate."
"Huh?" Severus suddenly felt a desire to throttle the child.
"Do not huh me, Mr Potter," he snapped.
"Sorry, sir." The fact that the boy almost grimaced at the title did nothing to improve his situation with the older wizard.
"Now tell me what's going on in that wretchedly insolent head of yours."
"Well… You always call me Harry."
"As if it were your name."
"No, I mean… Why do I have to call you Professor and sir then?" Severus, though taken aback by the question, made no sign of his surprise. "It's strange, isn't it?" Harry continued, scrunching up his face in contemplation.
"Is it?"
"I asked you first…"
"And I am getting fed up with you talking back," Severus snapped. Forcing down a sigh at the boy's downcast eyes, Snape clenched his hands. "Come along, we must get to Professor Burbage." With that he spun around and exited the room, with Harry nipping at his heels.
"But, sir…" the boy continued, almost in a whinge, as they swept through the corridors and up the stairs.
"Harry."
"It's strange," he repeated, his face still in a thoughtful grimace.
"Perhaps."
"So what should I call you?"
"For now, you shall continue using my title," Snape replied, raising an eyebrow in the boy's direction. "Now run along to your lesson," he added as they arrived outside the designated classroom.
"But sir—"
"You are trying my patience, young man. We will discuss this further at lunch. Now go," he said once again, his voice low and stern. Harry, his ears warming, nodded mutely and entered the classroom. Charity Burbage looked up and smiled warmly at him.
"Harry, good morning. Let's get started straight away, shall we? We'll continue with multiplication, like last week. Did you do your numbers?"
Sirius sat up in the hard bed in the Ministry quarters, feeling anything but rested. It had been perfectly impossible for him to sleep. The fact that he suddenly had a real bed had been far too overwhelming, and he hadn't been able to get comfortable at all. It was half past six in the morning, and he could hear the bustle of activity around him. Rising, he straightened the donated shirt, dusted off his clean trousers and looked himself in the mirror.
He'd taken his first shower in years the previous night. Shaved, sheared most of his ruined hair off. He looked nothing like his old self, but it was still a mile better than how he'd looked right when he'd arrived from Azkaban. He almost shuddered at the thought, trying to dispel the image. Of course, he was still merely skin and bones, his cheek hollow and his eyes faded. But he was free. A free man. And that made all the difference.
"Concentrate, Harry," Severus scolded as Harry dropped three spider eggs too many into the potion he was helping Snape with. Usually, during his Potions lessons, he had to read a lot, learn instructions, learn ingredients, learn how this reacted to that… But now and then, Snape would make a potion together with Harry. He said Harry was too young to make one all by himself, but that he would be allowed to try as soon as he managed to instruct Snape how to make a simple potion with no mistakes.
"Sorry," the boy muttered as Snape banished the potion.
"We'll call it a day," the professor said heavily, waving his wand lazily, sending the cauldron and the remaining ingredients back to their appropriate places.
"Why couldn't Draco be here today?" Harry asked, having actually missed the blonde wizard.
"His father simply said that they had prior engagements," Snape answered vaguely, beckoning for the boy to follow him out of the classroom.
"Oh. Can we go outside after lunch?"
"I have work to do," was the curt answer Harry received as they entered their quarters, Snape shrugging off his robes before calling for food.
"I could go alone," the boy suggested hopefully as he scrambled onto his chair, gazing expectantly at his guardian. Snape snorted as he took his seat by one of the plates of recently-appeared food.
"Hardly. You are eight years old, Harry, and you are not leaving my sight. You'd be sure to get into all manners of naughty mischief." Harry huffed and viciously plunged his spoon into his soup. "Harry." He looked up at the curt rebuke, met the Potions Master's stern, dark eyes, and dropped his head again, eating slowly.
"But I've been good in all my lessons," Harry continued after a moment of subdued silence. "And I won't go far," he hurried to add when Snape looked like he'd kick into lecture mode. "I'll stay right by the apple trees all the time and then come in on time." There was a small throng of lush apple trees by the castle's west side, with blooming flowers and sturdy branches perfect for climbing in. Harry had admired said trees when walking with Snape or Hagrid through the grounds, and had been itching to take a closer look.
Snape felt no trust for the boy whatsoever. The son of James Potter would most likely wreak havoc in the castle within five seconds if left unsupervised. He didn't object to the boy having exercise, though. He had had far too little of it recently, as Snape had a lot of work, and was hard pressed to find someone who would mind the eight-year-old bundle of energy. He'd been toying with the idea of having Hooch teach him to fly, but had not yet spoken to the flying instructor.
"Not today," he said sternly. "We will go outside tomorrow," he added before he could stop himself, and the boy broke into a huge smile, soup dripping generously from his suspended spoon. "Now eat your lunch," he continued, nodding towards the bowl, before he resumed eating.
"What are you working on today?" Harry asked as he finished up his food, licking his lips to get rid of any remains.
"I have a meeting with the other Heads of Houses," Snape replied, rising and banishing the bowls and cutlery with a lazy flick of his right hand. "Now, I will have an elf check on you regularly. You could do some of your work, or play a bit, but do not leave the quarters. Understood?" Harry nodded. "I do believe you are familiar with the way in which I expect you to respond," Severus snapped sternly.
"Yes, sir," the boy nodded. "Understood."
"I will see you in a couple of hours." With that, he swept his robes out from underneath him and exited, the door thudding to a close behind him. Harry let out a disappointed sigh as he wandered in to his room, staring around him in boredom. What am I supposed to do then? he thought. He's gone barmy if he thinks I'm going to do schoolwork for the rest of the day too! Huffing, he left his room again, and thought hard for something else he might get up to, alone in the small quarters. Of course, he came up blank. Something very unfortunate for a restless boy of eight-almost-nine years.
"I don't see how extending the curfew will do anything to improve the students' academic achievements," Snape drawled, lazily twirling his black quill.
"It is a merely a suggestion," Dumbledore remarked soothingly, just as McGonagall said:
"It is more a question of how the older pupils might benefit from more time in the library."
"And do you really believe, Minerva, that the children will choose, voluntarily, to spend long evenings in the library?" Severs asked, one eyebrow raised.
"I don't see why we should choose to see only their mischievous sides," she replied, pursing her lips.
"And I don't see any reason for wishful thinking. They are children; giving them more time to roam the castle will only give them more room for naughtiness."
"Perhaps we ought to move on," Professor Flitwick piped up, gaining an approving nod from the Headmaster.
"Certainly, Filius."
As usual, the Potions Master felt like nothing had been accomplished at the end of the meeting, and so it was with some irritation that he followed the Headmaster to his office afterwards.
"Is this really necessary?" he enquired as they began their trek up the stairs.
"Naturally. We have some pressing matters we need to discuss." They arrived by the gargoyle, and upon being given the password, it leapt aside and allowed them to enter. "It concerns Harry. And Sirius. And, in effect, you," Dumbledore added as they sat down on either side of his massive, wooden desk.
"Black? There is news?" Severus asked, leaning forward ever so slightly.
"He is no longer a prisoner of Azkaban," Dumbledore replied pensively. "He was officially released yesterday evening, after signing the last documents, and spent the night in Ministry quarters. He was set into London this morning." Severus did not know quite what to think about this. Part of him was irritated that it proved the man he had always hated was in fact not guilty of murder. Additionally, he had legal right to adopt Harry.
"Where does this put Harry?" he asked, not adding (and, indeed, not needing to) "and me".
"As you know, Sirius is Harry's godfather, and therefore the 'rightful' guardian." Severus clenched his fists. "However," Dumbledore added; a small smile on his lips, "I have already begun the process of adoption in your name. The Ministry don't exactly like it, and I've had the Minister breathing down my neck about it for ages, but they haven't any valid objections for it, and Harry obviously feels right at home with you. Besides, they are not likely to award custody to a man who has been imprisoned for the past seven, almost eight, years." He fingered the chain in his beard for a moment. "I must add, though, Severus, that it is not a done deal yet. Also… If you do adopt Harry, Sirius will be a part of his growing up. I will not have you alienating Harry from his godfather." He spoke in an uncharacteristically hard voice, one Severus recognised all too well. The matter was non-negotiable.
"I see. When will this be sealed?"
"Saturday, at noon. Oh, and Severus, one more thing."
"Headmaster."
"Sirius must be there. He must sign his consent."
Harry stared down at the grass, swinging his legs back and forth slowly, in rhythm with the branch he was sitting on. He hadn't been out there for long, but he knew he'd better go inside soon, lest Snape return to their quarters and find it empty. With a sigh, he slid forward and let himself drop to the ground, landing quietly. Dusting off his seat and righting his glasses, he took one more glance up towards the branched of the apple tree he'd been sitting in. It was a nice, sturdy tree, with plenty of good and sturdy branches; perfect for climbing. He'd make sure Snape took him there when they went outside the following day, although he couldn't picture Snape climbing trees. A giggle escaped him at the thought. He turned his back on the trees and jogged back around the castle, up the stairs and in through the heavy doors. Peering around each corner he turned, he made sure no one was around. Finding the last staircase deserted, he trotted down them and made his way to the door to their dungeon quarters. He entered quietly, and closed the door carefully behind him.
"And where do you think you have been?" He jumped at the voice, and spun around to find Snape sitting at his desk, his face bowed over a piece of parchment. The boy bit his lip and wrung his hands slightly.
"Uh." The older wizard looked up and gave Harry the sternest look the boy had ever received; he squirmed under it. The Potions Master snorted and rose, walking around his desk and stopping in front of the boy, clasping his hands behind his back.
"A proper answer if you please. And stand straight when I'm talking to you." Harry straightened quickly, dropped his hands to his sides.
"I was just outside," he whispered, staring at Snape's polished black shoes. A long, pale finger tipped his head back so he was forced to meet Severus' stern gaze.
"What did I tell you before I left?"
"To stay here," Harry replied, recognising that answering truthfully would be the only way to go in a situation like this. I have the most rotten luck in all the world…
"So you knowingly, wilfully, disobeyed me? I am tiring of your constant lack of respect for the rules young man. This will stop."
"Yes sir," Harry nodded vigorously. The older man let the boy's face go and crossed his arms across his chest.
"Do you honestly expect me to believe your promises, after all the times you've disobeyed me despite them? I'm afraid not, young man." He spun around, pulled out his desk chair, and sat down. "Come here." Harry, even though this had never happened to him before, knew what Snape planned on doing. His breath hitched and he struggled against tears.
"Please, sir, I'll…" He didn't know what to say. Snape had already said he wouldn't believe any of his promises. "I'm sorry, really."
"Come here. Now," was the only reply he received. Slowly, he made his way over to his guardian, stopping in front of him, uncertain. "You will learn to do as you're told," he said firmly. Harry only nodded mutely. Suppressing a sigh, Snape took hold of the boy's hand and placed him across his lap. He'd known the child would eventually press him to firmly correct his behaviour; an eight-year-old boy was the epitome of mischief. With a hand on Harry's back, he pulled down the boy's trousers.
Harry, for his part, was still fighting tears. He wanted to kick and scream and protest. He didn't want a spanking! It was so unfair! Snape kept him locked inside all day and he'd only wanted to go outside for a little bit, and it hadn't done any harm at all! He felt his trousers being lowered and grabbed hold of his guardian's robe in anticipation. The first swat took him by surprise, and he almost bit himself in the tongue.
"I understand that you feel claustrophobic in here, Harry, but you cannot go outside without permission," Snape lectured after a couple of swats. "From now on, you will do as you're told, or you'll be right back in this position again." Harry hoped he wasn't supposed to answer, because there was no way. He yelped his way through the last of the ten smacks, continued crying even as Snape's hand had stopped falling. After a few moments, he felt the Potions Master's hands under his arms, lifting him up and righting his clothes as he stood in front of him. "Going out like that was very naughty, Harry. Never again, do you hear me?"
"Y-yes sir," Harry hiccoughed. "I'm s-sorry." Snape palmed the back of the boy's head, and Harry fell into the embrace for a few minutes. Procuring a handkerchief, Snape carefully dried Harry's tears away.
"Head to your room now. Off you go," Snape said, nudging the boy into a standing position and turning him in the right direction.
Harry closed the door to his room behind him, and rubbed his bum as he tried to stem his tears. He could hardly imagine ever going through that again. It still stings, he thought miserably, lying down on his stomach on the bed. He tried to decide whether or not going out to the trees had been worth it. After contemplating the situation for a while, he angrily decided no, it hadn't. It was no fun alone anyway. Should've had Snape there.