Hello everyone! :)
First of all, a big THANK YOU to my awesome reviewer lilyflower101! :)
Also, I decided to actually write 20 instead of 15 chapters, I was about to finish the story with 15 chapters but then realized that I wanted to add some more stuff :D I am currently working on chapter 17.
WARNING: This chapter is kinda dark, and there is SPANKING in it, you have been warned ;)
He was dreaming- he was, right?
Harry tossed around in his bed; his face covered in sweat. He felt strange- hot, and flustered, and cold, and nervous, and excited- what was going on?
Suddenly, he was not in his bed anymore- he was in class, Potions, and there was Snape, and he was…smiling?
"You did very well, Harry- I am so proud of you", Snape said, and his smile got wider, and he…hugged him?
"You are my good boy, Harry- working so hard, being so ambitious…", even Snape's voice sounded different, he sounded…happy. And proud. And satisfied?
The image in front of his eyes changed, the classroom disappeared, now he was playing Quidditch, racing after the Snitch, everyone was yelling and shouting, and he caught the Snitch, heard the cheering, students screaming his name, and he got off the broom, and there was Snape again, walking towards him, a proud smile on his face, "well done, Harry- you did such a marvelous job. I am so proud of you."
He could not stop any of it, he could not react, and the image changed once more, this time it was worse, he was in Snape's private quarters again, in a…bedroom? He was in bed, and…Snape came in, tucked him in, and smiled, "good night, son. Sleep tight, my good boy. You are making me so proud to be your dad, do you know that? Do you know how much I love you? I love you, Harry."
Son. Good boy. I am so proud of you. I love you, Harry.
You are my good boy.
I love you, Harry.
I love you, Harry.
He woke up with a scream, drenched in sweat, his heart hammering against his chest.
He frantically reached for his glasses, and his water bottle, and drank too hastily, and coughed.
Oh shit, I am being way too loud.
No one seemed to wake though, the only sound he was hearing was his heavy breathing and Dean's soft snores from the bed across the room.
His hands were shaking when he put the water bottle back on his nightstand and he reached for his watch, looking at the time.
3:34 am.
There was no way he was going to be able to go back to sleep after this- damn Snape and his potion, what the heck had he given him?
And suddenly, he was angry. Not only angry, furious.
Snape had no right to mess with him like this, to mock him, to show him something that would never come true- he had no right!
Harry got up, and quietly put on a pair of jeans and a sweater. He was not going to wait until the morning, if Snape messed up his sleep, he would mess up Snape's!
Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak, hung it around himself, and then slowly made his way out the dormitory, and sooner than expected, he was in the dungeons.
Screw Snape.
He knocked, not bothering to be especially quiet, and, when no one answered right away, he banged his fist against the door.
And then, the door opened.
"Potter", Snape looked at him, and there was no surprise in his expression, he seemed…like he had expected him.
"Would you like to come in?"
Harry just stared at him, "what the hell have you done to me?", he hissed, still not bothering to be quiet.
Snape sighed, "come on in, Potter- and then we will talk, alright?"
"Fine", Harry spat out, and stormed into the room, throwing the cloak on the floor, "now, what…"
"Pick that up- and then sit down", Snape interrupted him, his voice suddenly stern, "you are angry, I get that, but that does not give you the right to throw a tantrum in the middle of the night."
Seriously?
Harry curled his lips, two can play this game- "what if I don't?"
"I'll make you, Potter."
Harry swallowed, not liking where this was going, and slowly picked up the cloak, and even more slowly, sat down.
Snape almost smiled, "good boy."
"Don't call me that!"
Snape did not respond, he just looked at him for what felt like an eternity, and finally, sat down as well.
"Would you like to tell me about your dreams?", he then asked, his voice soft. Very soft. Too soft.
"No", Harry choked out, "no, I want to forget about them- and I want to know what the heck you gave me!"
"The potion is called Wishful Dreams,", Snape explained patiently, "and what it does is, it shows the person who takes it their most secret, most hidden desires- usually something a person is too ashamed to even admit to themself."
"And why did you give me that?"
"I thought it might help you realize something, Potter", Snape's voice became serious, "I cannot help you if you don't let me."
"I don't need any help", Harry replied stubbornly, "I just…want to forget all of this nonsense I dreamt. I need another potion."
"I am not going to give you any more potions", Snape answered simply, "but I can help you, Harry- you just need to be honest with me. With yourself."
"It's Harry now?", his voice was thick with sarcasm, "you know what? Screw you, Snape. I don't want or need your help, this was a mistake", he got up, "and don't you dare to tell anyone about this- if you do, I will go to Dumbledore and get you fired."
Snape did not say anything, he just looked at him- and Harry knew he was going to say more things he would regret later if he stayed any longer.
"I'll see you in class, Professor", he knew he was being rude, and half expected Snape to yell at him now, to curse, to do something- but the Potion Master just stood there, looking at him.
And so, he left.
Tom groaned. The damn towels really had not done much to protect him from the hard wooden floors- his whole body was sore and aching when he got up.
Some trembling house elf served him breakfast- scrambled eggs, bacon, avocado toast, yoghurt with berries and honey, chocolate chip pancakes and orange juice and a strawberry smoothie to drink- and goddamn, these house elves could cook!
He ate everything, and then decided to take a shower.
The water got hot instantly, and the soap smelled like lavender and something else- it felt smooth and oily on his skin, and he groaned again, but this time, out of pleasure.
He picked some white socks, white underwear, black denims, a navy blue sweater and some black leather shoes to wear, and then decided to go explore a little.
As soon as he entered the hallway, another house elf appeared, "Master Thomas, please follow Tally to the library, Master Gryffindor is waiting."
Tom smirked, "let him wait then- I am going to get some fresh air."
Tally paled, "but…Master Gryffindor instructed…"
"I don't give a damn what your Master says", Tom replied, "now, show me the way to get out of here- I want to see the park."
"As Master Thomas wishes", Tally said dutifully, a tiny smile crossing his lips. Master Thomas would realize soon enough that Master Gryffindor was no one to disrespect!
He led him to the huge patio door, "enjoy the park, Master Thomas- it is a beautiful day."
Tom ignored him, and, whistling to himself, walked over to the patio door- and grabbed the doorhandle.
"Aaaahh!", he pulled his hand back like he got bitten, "fuck, that hurt! What the hell!", his hand was stinging, like he had gotten an electric shock, "what's wrong with your doors, servant?"
Tally stiffened, "there is nothing wrong, Master Thomas- except for the fact that the young Master has no permission to leave the Manor."
"And you knew this and still let me touch the handle?", Tom hissed, his eyes turning red, "fucking elf!", he lashed out, and Tally, who did not react fast enough, yelped in pain as Tom's hand struck his face.
"Now, show me the way to the library- I have got something to say to your Master!", Tom demanded, not caring the slightest about the mark on Tally's face, "hurry up, creature! You wanted me to follow you, so move!"
Tally did not respond, but he did turn around and led Tom through another hallway, and up a staircase again…and then, he stopped in front of an enormous door.
"What are you waiting for? Open the damn door!"
Tally trembled, "Master Thomas…should probably knock, it is rude to…"
"Bullshit", Tom pushed Tally out of the way and swung the door open, and then-
"Ohmygod."
This was…heaven. A library from fucking heaven, books up to the ceiling, books everywhere, a huge windowfront that showed a lake outside, circular staircases to get to the mezzanine, a cozy fireplace with armchairs and couches around it, rugs on the floor that made his shoes sink into them- and Godric Gryffindor, standing by a desk, holding- the whip.
Not heaven after all.
"You are late, Thomas."
"Your house elf went the wrong way", Tom lied, not even pretending to hide his smirk, "nice library, by the way."
"Come over here", Gryffindor's voice was cold, and there was something else in it, something that made Tom swallow and walk over to him.
Gryffindor pointed at the desk, "bend over."
"What?", he turned white, "I am not fucking…"
"Bend. over."
Tom did not dare to disobey again, Gryffindor looked like he was about to murder him, so he slowly moved forward- and bent over.
"Every time you break the rules, you will get one demerit- which counts for one strike with the whip", Gryffindor started, his voice still icy, "and I will usually spank you at night, right after dinner, in my office- but since you already have that many demerits piled up, you will get two spankings today."
"You…you can't be serious, this is…"
He let out a strangled sob when the whip hit him on his back, "did I give you permission to speak, Thomas?"
God, that hurt.
"Answer me, Thomas!"
"No, you did not", he said in a low voice, hating Gryffindor more than ever.
"Indeed- and if you do not want any more demerits, you better start behaving now."
Tom grit his teeth, damn bastard- who does he think he is?
"Let's do a little counting then, shall we?"
It was not a question, and Tom bit his lip, dread forming in his stomach.
"You will get one for being rude to Tally this morning, one more for hitting Tally, one for disobeying me and trying to leave the Manor, one for not knocking, one for lying to me about being late, one for cursing, and one for hesitating when I told you to bend over- which is how much, Thomas?"
Tom blinked back tears, "seven", he finally managed to say.
"You are going to count every single one of them- and if you mess up, we will start over. Do you understand?"
"Y…yes."
"Yes, what?"
No way. He would not…
The damn whip again, this time on his arm. He hissed in pain, not daring to get up to rub his arm.
"Yes, what, Thomas? I've got all day."
"Yes…Sir", he choked, humiliation making his face burn. He hated him…he hated him so much…
"You can cry and scream and beg all you want by the way- it is not going to matter."
He would not cry like a child over a damn spanking, fuck tha…
And then the whip hit him, and he could not stop himself from screaming, he needed to move, to breathe, to get the hell out of here, but Gryffindor grabbed his neck and pushed him down, "I am not hearing you count, Thomas."
"O…one."
Gryffindor did not give him any time to think, to collect himself, the whip hit again, this time on the spot between his thighs and his butt, and he screamed.
"Two!"
"Hold still, Thomas- or I am going to make you."
Another lash, on the same spot.
"Th…three."
He started to sob, the pain was…too much, everywhere, he could not breathe.
Again.
"Fffooour…"
How was he going to take three more of those? There was no way, he could not…
And again.
"Fiveee…please…please…no…", he sobbed again, tears streaming down his face, "no more…"
Gryffindor ignored him, and-
"Ssssixxx!", he cried out, "please…I can't…"
The last hit was the worst one, and the pain was so intense that he could not even scream for a second.
"Sev…en…", he finally gasped, his whole was body shaking as he trembled to the floor, his backside burning in agony.
Gryffindor crouched down in front of him, "shshsh…it's all over…you took that really well, Thomas", he smiled softly, "and you are all forgiven. Come on, get up, I still haven't even told you what you are supposed to do until lunch."
Tom shot him a dirty look and scrambled to his feet. He did not dare to speak without permission again, just stood there and sniffled, rubbing his backside.
"For today, I would like you to do something simple- just a little bit of copying", he put some white sheets on the desk, along with a pencil, "here are some newspapers, I want you to read them- and copy the names of the victims from any of your Death Eater activities onto this list- any questions?"
Tom scowled, "you mean, I am writing a list of people we killed? What's the point of that? They are dead anyways."
Gryffindor looked at him- and what was that in his eyes? Sadness? Disappointment? – "think of it as a way to honor them, Thomas- to make sure they are not forgotten. Just to be clear, I want you to include every victim, not only the people your Death Eaters and you senselessly murdered."
He dropped a bunch of old newspapers on the desk, "you have three hours- and don't forget, if your work is not satisfying, you will not eat any lunch. I will be back later."
He turned around and left, and Tom just stood there and stared after him for at least two minutes.
Damn Gryffindor- and writing a list about whiny victims? No way.
The library was too tempting anyways, and he was still full from breakfast, so why not skip lunch? He would eat a big dinner to make up for it.
Tom hummed to himself as he walked across the quiet library, wonder in his eyes. This place was…perfection. It was simple perfection, and what a shame that the person who owned it had to be his worst enemy.
There were so many books- and the old books smelled like…he could not even describe the magic of that smell, and when he slowly walked up the spiral staircase to the mezzanine, the sun came out and was almost blinding him, and he felt like walking into heaven.
He walked around, and he forgot all about Gryffindor, the pain on his back, the whip, the list, everything- he was too damn happy to care.
And then, too quick, way too quick, it was over.
"Where are you, Thomas?"
Tom winced, he forced himself to put back the book he was reading and slowly walked over to Gryffindor, "I…am here."
Gryffindor merely glanced at the desk and the untouched sheets, "very well- no lunch for you then. Which means, you will go straight to your room now and you will stay there until 5 pm. I am not letting you play with the boys today."
Thank God- like he wanted to hang out with Gryffindor's spoiled brats anyways.
"A house elf will escort you to the kitchen at 5 pm and you will help prepare dinner, which we will eat together at 7 pm in the dining room", Gryffindor continued, "and after dinner, you will meet me in my office."
Tom bit his lip, he suddenly wished he had at least written a little…but now it was too late.
"I will see you at dinner, Thomas- and if I were you, I would start behaving. You are only going to make this harder for yourself."
He did not respond.
Gryffindor sighed, "Tally will bring you back to your room- Tally!", the house elf came running, "yes…Master Gryffindor?"
"Bring Thomas back to his room- and I want you to escort him to the kitchen at 5 pm. And don't worry, he will not hit you again", Gryffindor's voice became sharp, "and if he does, let me know immediately."
"Yes, Master Gryffindor", Tally answered politely, but Tom saw the tiny smirk on his face.
Damnit. He had made another enemy.
He followed Tally back to his room, and he did not say a word, not wanting to give the elf any opportunity to tattle.
His room had gotten cleaned up while he was gone- the breakfast tray had disappeared, his dirty clothes from last night were gone, and the towels were back in the linen closet. At least he still had his books…
Tom grabbed the towels again, and made himself comfortable on the floor.
He started to read, soon forgetting everything around him, and he almost jumped when someone knocked on his door, "Master Thomas, time to go!"
It was 5 pm already?
He groaned and got up, and his backside started throbbing again as he slowly made his way to the door.
Tally looked at him like he was some kind of axe murderer, "follow Tally, Master Thomas", he squeaked, and this time, Tom did.
The kitchen was huge- bigger than any kitchen he had ever seen- and there were at least a dozen house elves- cleaning, cutting, cooking, sweeping, polishing- and he suddenly felt intimidated.
"Master Thomas can help with the dessert", Tally ordered, leading him to a counter stacked with fresh fruit, "Master Thomas will cut the fruit for the fruit salad."
Tom stared at the delicious looking fruit in front of him- pineapples, strawberries, grapes, kiwi, bananas, apples, oranges, pears…and suddenly he realized how hungry he was.
I should not have skipped lunch- and two more hours until dinner? Damn it…
"A knife and a cutting board", Tally interrupted his thoughts, "Master Thomas should hurry, the Masters do not like to wait for their dinner."
Who cares what they like.
Tom clenched his teeth, there was no point in arguing with that snitch of an elf- he would just ignore the little piece of shit.
The other house elves did not seem very happy he was working among them- after all, he had a reputation for how he treated house elves- but they all ignored him, thankfully.
Except for one little elf, the tiniest elf Tom had ever seen, with ears so big, he looked like he could use them to fly.
"Tiny will help Master Thomas with the fruit", the elf announced and grabbed a knife.
Tom could not help himself, "your name is Tiny?"
Tiny smiled at him, "a nickname. Tiny's real name is Charlie."
Tom snorted, "of course", he mumbled, "and I don't need help, elf. Get lost."
Tiny did not move, "Master Thomas cannot cut all the fruit", he said confidently, "it is too much work. Tiny will help, so Master Gryffindor does not get angry."
Tom bit back a snidely remark- he thought of the whip, and the cold look in Gryffindor's eyes when he had told him to bend over…
Like he hates me.
"Fine. You can help", he muttered, "but then don't talk all the time. I hate talking."
Tiny just nodded, "Tiny can be silent", he promised, "Tiny will just work. Silently."
The house elf grabbed some fruit, and Tom's eyes went wide in amazement. It had taken the elf not even half a minute to perfectly cut one of the pineapples.
He decided to start with something easy and grabbed a pear.
The pear was still wet from being washed, and…
"Shit!", he had cut himself, not enough to bleed, thank God, but it hurt.
Tiny looked at him, alarmed, "Master Thomas should not curse!", he whispered, "Tally will have to tell!"
"That little rat", Tom hissed, sucking on his injured finger, "I am not going to back down from a useless, weak little servant, you understand?"
Tiny stared at him, "yes, Master Thomas", he went back to his work, not saying another word, and Tom suddenly felt uneasy. Also, his stomach started to growl in hunger- the fruit smelled so good- so tempting…
Well, he was going to eat this for dinner anyways, wasn't he? So why not have some now?
He reached for an apple, a round, red, delicious looking apple, and took a bite.
"No, Master Thomas!", Tiny did not whisper this time, "no one is allowed to eat in the kitchen, Master Thomas needs to put the apple down!"
"Oh, I will- after I am done eating it", Tom grinned scornfully and took another bite, the sour and fresh apple juice running down his chin, "these are amazing- really amazing!"
"The apples are from the orchards in the park", Tiny answered quietly, "please, Master Thomas needs to stop eating, Master Gryffindor will get very, very angry!"
"He hates me anyways", Tom remarked, hating how bitter he sounded, "so…what's the point?", he finished his apple, and threw the stalk in the trash, watched by the disapproving glances of the other elves, who did not dare to say a word, "chill out, creatures- it was just an apple."
He went back to cutting, ignoring the murmurs of the other elves, who seemed upset with him- well, what else was new.
Around 6:50 pm, Tally walked over to him, "Tally will show Master Thomas the dining room", he said, not even bothering to hide his hostility, "and then the house elves will serve the dinner."
"Lead the way, then", Tom replied smugly, he actually looked forward to dinner, he had seen the house elves prepare steaks with roasted vegetables, and he could hardly wait to taste them.
He walked into the dining room, Gryffindor was there, and Salazar, and two naughty looking brats, one looked like a younger version of Slytherin, and the other one looked like…Sirius Black? What the hell?
He was staring, completely taken aback, and did not even notice that Tally went over to Gryffindor, and quietly talked to him about something.
"Hey", the young Black said cheerfully, "I am Sirius. This is Aurelius. Dad told us to be nice to you, so you are lucky- even though I still want to punch you for what you did to Harry."
Tom did not know what to say, which was new, he just kept staring.
"Why don't you sit down, Tom, dinner is going to be ready any minute", Salazar now said, he sounded friendly, and he called him Tom, thank God, he could not have dealt with another Gryffindor- so Tom sat down, feeling out of place, and his mind was racing with questions.
He did not have time to ask any, though, because now the house elves appeared, carrying plates with delicious looking food. The smell alone made his mouth water- he loved a good steak.
"Is there anything you want to tell me before dinner, Thomas?"
Tom looked up, startled, his anger rising quickly, was Gryffindor really going to embarrass him in front of these half-baked kids by asking him dumb questions like that?
"No, nothing", he answered curtly, clearly annoyed.
Gryffindor looked at him thoughtfully for a couple seconds, "very well- enjoy your dinner then, Thomas", he gave Tally a wink, and the house elf walked over, his face shining with glee, "the dinner for Master Thomas", he declared and set a plate in front of him.
No. Nonono…
Apples. Nothing but apples. Sliced apples, steamed apples, baked apples, and a side of apple sauce.
Tom felt his face flush, and he heard the boys snicker, and God, he hated, hated Gryffindor- but if he thought he could win this easily, he was wrong. Dead wrong.
So, he picked up his fork and he ate the apples, all of them, while having to watch the others enjoy their steak, and he followed Gryffindor to his office after dinner, and he bent over and let Gryffindor spank him again, and he cried himself to sleep on the damn towels, and when he woke up the next morning, he was sore, and hungry, and miserable.
There was a soft knock, and then Tiny came in, carrying his breakfast tray. He did not look at him, "the…breakfast for Master Thomas", he said quietly, almost silently, and cold dread started forming in his stomach, and he looked at the tray-
Apples. Again.
And then, he started to cry.
yeah...poor tom yet again. there will be more power play between him and godric in the next chap, and more confrontation between harry and snape! ;)
If you enjoyed it, I would LOOOOVE some feedback!
Thank you all!
Antonie