Hey guys! :) Back with chapter 6!
Thank you all for your comments, they mean so so much to me, you have no idea! :)
WARNING: SPANKING in this chapter! (Small scene, but still lol)
It took him longer than expected to get to Hogsmeade. While it was not snowing anymore, the snow from the snowstorm before made it difficult to walk. He was smart enough to avoid the direct route, instead, he took some smaller pathways.
There was no way he would be able to apparate near the mansion, but he was positive Gryffindor's protection spell did not reach as far as Hogsmeade.
Also, he was thirsty as hell- he was not athletic enough to just walk through piles of snow and not be bothered by it. He was sweating, his face red, and when he finally saw the first houses of Hogsmeade, he sighed in relief.
Time to get a drink.
His plan was to have a quick drink in one of the less…fancier establishments, and then he would apparate. Somewhere…nice. Somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from Gryffindor and his bunch.
Maybe Italy, he thought while he was walking through the little town, his scarf covering half of his face, or…
He suddenly stopped, blinking in shock. Right on the other side of the street was a small book store, and standing in front of it, pointing at something inside, were…
What. The. Fuck.
He'd recognize Snape anywhere, with his long, black robes and his hawk like features, and the man next to him, laughing at something that Snape apparently had said- which was a fucking miracle in itself- was the werewolf. Lupin.
I thought they hate each other.
Clearly, they didn't- because now the werewolf whispered something in Snape's ear, and then he…he kissed him. He kissed Snape. Snape.
And Tom half expected Snape to push the werewolf away from him, to snarl at him, or curse him into the next century- but instead, the Potion Master pulled the werewolf closer and kissedhimback.
Tom had no idea how long he had been staring at them, but eventually, Snape and Remus Lupin disappeared into the bookstore, and the look of pure, blissful happiness on their faces did something to him that he did not even have words for.
I really need a fucking drink.
He kept going, walking like he was in a daze, confused, and somewhat angry.
No wonder Snape wanted a truce- probably something that werewolf put him up to. No wonder we lost the attack.
He cursed, hating the sudden feeling of bitterness that rose inside him, and then he kicked hard against a block of snow, not even bothering to check if anyone was nearby that could get hurt.
"Ow!", someone cried out, and he looked up.
A small boy, maybe about four years old, was standing right in front of him now, glaring at him, "you hurt me!", he pointed at the melting snow on his face, which had left a bruise, "my Mommy always says to be careful when kicking snow!"
"Your Mommy is an idiot!", Tom hissed right back, "get out of my way, midget."
To his surprise and annoyance, the boy stood his ground, "I am not a midget, I am six years old already", he told him, "and you better apologize before I get my big brother!"
Tom snorted, pulling out his wand, "and you better get the fuck away from me, midget- before I test some spells on you!"
The boy stepped back, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but then a female voice called, "Charlie! Where are you? We are ready to go buy some hot chocolate!"
"I am coming, Mommy!", the small boy called back, "I'll be right there!"
"Now, Charles- or you won't get any hot chocolate!", someone else called, way more demanding than the mother had, it sounded like a teenage boy, and Charlie smiled, "coming, William!", and then he shot Tom another scornful glance, seemingly deciding he was not worth to be bothered with any longer, and ran off.
Tom snorted again, fucking kids…thank God he did not have any siblings to boss him around. That William boy sounded like a nightmare.
He kept walking, it had slowly started to snow again, and the cold snowflakes felt great on his sweaty face.
Hogsmeade was crowded, way more crowded than he had anticipated, and it annoyed him to no end to look at all the happy, excited faces around him.
Christmas was in about six weeks- not that he kept track, he hated the holidays- and the holiday season was in full swing, there were decorations, Christmas trees, lights, candles and ornaments, and it smelled like gingerbread, and vanilla, and hot chocolate.
Fucking bullshit.
He wished he had brought a hat, or something to cover his ears, so he would not be forced to listen to all the excitement around him, seeing it was bad enough.
"Can I have another Peppermint Toad, Daddy?"
"Please, I want to look at the owls, can we?"
"Do you think Santa is going to bring me a new broom this year, Mom?"
"Look! There's Honeydukes! I want to goooo, please!"
Shut. Up. Just shut up!
Tom had always thought only the Hogwarts students came here, but it looked like some random kids with their parents were around, too- little did he know that the stores in Hogsmeade always invited families for a weekend in November to get them into the holiday spirit- and to make some sales.
And unluckily for him, the family fun weekend so happened to be this weekend.
All the happiness around him, the excited chatter, and the bright faces of the children and their parents were getting to him, and he did not even know why it affected him so much this year- he had never cared for Christmas, or any other bullshit holiday, and usually, children laughing only annoyed him, but today, he felt like casting some Crucios on them. He could not put it into words, but he was envious- envious of something these kids had, which was something he'd never have.
I need a fucking drink now!
He finally reached a small pub almost at the end of the town, it was called Ingvar's Inn, and the owner was some Scandinavian guy who had traveled around and fallen in love with Hogsmeade. Tom appreciated him, because Ingvar was very laid back- he never checked for age, he simply did not care for any regulations, and he let people drink as much as they wanted without raising an eyebrow.
The inn was dark, and besides some underage Hufflepuff boys who were giggling into their beers, the only customers were some elderly ladies enjoying something that looked like Firewhiskey.
Ingvar smiled at him, he was most likely the nicest person on earth, "Merry Christmas, pojke!", he said, the accent making it very obvious that he was not British, "a beer? A liquor? A peppermint chocolate with cream? What do you desire?"
"A bourbon on the rocks, please", he replied, taking off his scarf. Ingvar did not care for politics, and even he told him his name, he probably would have just shrugged, dismissing it.
"Great choice, wonderful choice!", Ingvar beamed, and Tom knew he would have said that about pretty much any drink, "wait a minute, just a minute!", and then he swirled around behind the bar, singing something in a foreign language that sounded strangely like a Christmas song, "a bourbon on the rocks, and you enjoy it!", it sounded almost like a threat, but since he was grinning from ear to ear, Tom knew he was joking.
"Thanks", he mumbled, tossing some Galleons over the counter. Ingvar preferred to get his money right away, just like most pubs across the country.
"Any desires to eat? A lunch? A dinner?", Ingvar had never understood the concept of tea-time, and outright refused to serve tea at his inn, which suited Tom just fine- he had never cared to sit around and have tea, either.
"No, still full", he responded, thinking of the lavish lunch Gryffindor had served him hours earlier, and the thought alone made him take another big gulp of his drink.
Damn, I needed that.
It did not take him long to finish his bourbon, and right when he was done, Ingvar appeared with another one, beaming, "good to stay warm in the snow!", he said, and even though Tom had meant to leave after one drink, the bourbon in front of him looked too tempting to resist.
What's one more…I can leave right after.
He emptied his second drink, not even noticing that the Hufflepuff students had left, stumbling through the door, and by the time he was done with drink number two, Ingvar's beaming smile had become even wider.
"Feels good, feels great, eh?", he babbled, fixing himself a whiskey, "nothing a drink cannot solve, tell you, nothing!", and then Tom watched him emptying his whiskey in one gulp, and it was somewhat fascinating to see.
Ingvar did not waste any time to have another one, drinking it like it was water, "ah, feels better already!", he announced, chuckling, "one more, one more, pojke!"
Tom did not even attempt to protest when Ingvar put bourbon number three in front of him, "together, alright?", and he chuckled again, and this time, he mixed his whiskey with vodka, and Tom grinned back.
"To…gether!", his voice was already getting slurry, but what the hell- he was having so much fun, Italy could wait.
He wanted to impress Ingvar, taking a huge gulp this time, which almost made him vomit.
Ingvar laughed, "aah, still learns, pojke! I teach you! Have another!"
Tom blinked at him and nodded, still not realizing that the game he was playing here was a dangerous one- Ingvar was clearly an alcoholic, used to down drink after drink- but Tom was not.
He stared at bourbon number four, trying to remember if he had even ordered that- and then the old ladies from the table left, and one of them made a disapproving sound when she saw Tom almost hanging over the counter, but Tom had no idea why.
I'm having fun. This is fun.
Ingvar laughed again, completely unaffected by the whiskeys he had just drank, "ready, pojke?"
Tom had no idea what pojke even meant, and he wanted to ask, but somehow, the words coming out of his mouth made no sense, "what…mean…you…call…I?", he stuttered, holding on to his glass of bourbon for support, "how…mean…that?"
"You are confused- you must drink. It helps!", Ingvar informed him, and Tom nodded in understanding.
"Ready, pojke?", Ingvar repeated, and Tom grabbed his glass, "helps!", he told the glass earnestly, "drinking helps…I forget. Want to forget…everything. Everything is…mess. I'm mess", and he meant to empty it in one gulp just like Ingvar had, but before he had the chance to, someone gently took his hand and pushed it down.
"You are not a mess, Tommy."
Shit.
And just like that, everything inside him froze.
He did not dare to turn around to face Gryffindor, he just sat there completely still, hoping this was just some kind of bourbon infused hallucination that would disappear eventually.
But instead of disappearing, Gryffindor sat down right next to him, and then he slowly removed the glass of bourbon from his clenched hands, "I think you had enough, hmm?", he murmured, "no more drinks, Tommy."
Tom swallowed hard, Gryffindor appearing out of nowhere had sobered him up a little, "having fun!", he informed the Founder, "you…are spoiling it!"
"Spoiling your fun of drinking yourself to death?", Gryffindor replied, sounding very displeased, "how many bourbons did you actually have?"
Tom bit his lips, "none of…your business", he eventually mumbled, "I'm an adult. I can…do what…I can."
What I want.
Ingvar had been watching them, a frown on his face. He was not happy of losing his only customer- and a very good one, too.
"He said he is eighteen- an adult", he told Gryffindor, "he can drink!", but his bravado quickly vanished when the Founder shot him a dark look, "you can let me be the judge of what he can and what he cannot have- and you ought to have your license removed for this. You better believe that I will report you and your…establishment to the Ministry."
Ingvar instantly broke down and started to wail, "no, Sir, no please! I did not know he is your pojke! I will never serve him again! Never!"
Tom listened with growing horror, never serve him again? What the fuck?
"How much does he owe you?", Gryffindor asked stone-faced, ignoring Ingvar's wails.
"No…nothing! All free!", Ingvar sobbed, desperately trying to please the Founder, "I…won't charge!"
"Very well- time to go then, Thomas. Get up."
Tom just stared at him, dread forming in his stomach, "I…I rather…stay here", he eventually croaked, "you can…go."
"Three seconds, Thomas- or this is going to get unpleasant."
He swallowed, "leave me…alone."
"One."
Oh fuck.
Tom tried to reach for his bourbon again, but Gryffindor was faster, grabbing him, "don't even think about it Thomas- and that's two."
"Just go! I don't want you here!"
"Three."
Tom stifled a sob when Gryffindor hauled him off the barstool, but to his surprise, he did not drag him out right away, instead, he turned to Ingvar again, who had seemed to lost his smile, "how many drinks did he have?"
Ingvar did not hesitate for a second, too afraid of Gryffindor to lie, "three! A bourbon on the rocks, three times! This one is number four! He did not drink it!"
"But he would have if I were not here right now", Gryffindor replied, his voice hard, and Ingvar made a sound like somebody had kicked him, "so we are going with four."
Going with four for what?
"You don't need to count this time, Thomas- I doubt you are able to count til four in your current state", and now his voice was sarcastic, "bend over the chair."
No no no!
"No spanking! No spanking!", he hated how scared he sounded, but the memories of his worst humiliation came crashing back to him, him crying, and begging, and struggling, and the pain…
"Four swats is barely a spanking, Tommy", Gryffindor replied calmly, and then he gently pushed him forward, effectively bending him over the chair, "this is just for you to remember who's in charge", and then he lifted his hand, and Tom started to howl before the hand had even landed on his backside, and even though he was struggling, Gryffindor made quick work of it, covering both sides of his butt with swats.
"You are never going to drink any alcohol again without my permission- you are going to obey me- you are going to come with me now- and you are going to be a good boy for me!"
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
Tom was crying by the time Gryffindor was done, and he did not protest when the Founder turned him around and easily picked him up, carrying him like a little boy again, and he nuzzled into Gryffindor's neck, silently begging for forgiveness, even though he did not want to.
I am sorry! I am sorry! I'll be your good boy!
"Shh…all done…all forgiven, baby bear", Gryffindor told him quietly, "no more drinking, hmm?"
"No…more!", he blurted out, his voice choking with tears.
"Good boy, Tommy", and now Gryffindor sounded pleased, and Tom hid his face in his chest, sobbing.
"Let's go, baby bear."
And then he carried him outside, and it had gotten dark, and the snow was falling softly, and Tom slowly turned his face to look at the stars.
They did not speak for a couple minutes, the only noise coming from the muffled voices of the few people still shopping in the small town, and the quiet hooting of the owls from the post office.
Finally, Tom could not bear it any longer, "you…mad?", he asked tentatively.
Gryffindor sighed, "no, I am not mad, Tommy."
Another silence.
"I…used the tunnel from Wormtail to…get out", he eventually blurted out, figuring it was very unlikely Gryffindor would ever let him run off again, "third floor tunnel."
"I figured- the bookshelf gave you away", Gryffindor sounded amused, "must have been a long walk to get here, hmm?"
"Wasn't…too bad", Tom replied, still staring at the stars above him, snuggled closely into Gryffindor's chest, "was wearing a jacket."
"I can see that- what a good boy you are", and now he sounded proud, "you always need to wear a jacket when it's cold, Tommy."
"Yah, I know", Tom yawned, snuggling closer, secretly enjoying the warmth Gryffindor was radiating, "ask you somethin?"
"You can ask me anything you want, Tommy."
"What's pojke mean?"
Gryffindor laughed, "it's Swedish for boy. That what the owner called you?"
"Mmmhh…", Tom replied, "not a boy, though."
"Not his, you mean- you're mine."
Tom did not respond to that, he simply looked at the stars, his eyes getting heavy. The day had been stressful- the meeting, the walking through the snow, the drinking, the discipline- and he still felt pretty darn drunk.
"Ask you somethin else?"
"Go ahead, baby bear."
"You…gonna spank me again?"
"For running away you mean?"
"Yah", his voice was quiet.
"No, not this time- but I can assure you, the next time you pull a stunt like this, you are going straight across my lap. Understand?"
"Yes…Sir", Tom yawned again, "sleep now?"
"Not yet, baby bear. You are tired, hmm? My tired little boy", and then he gently raked through his hair with one hand, and Tom had to smile, "very very very very tired…"
"We are almost there- going to apparate around the corner there."
"Where…are you taking me?"
"I am taking you home, Tommy."
Home.
The word made him smile again. Home. It sounded so…safe. And warm. And…
He yawned again, "where's home?", he asked quietly.
"Gryffindor Manor."
Of course.
"Sleep there?", he asked, it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open, "I sleep?"
"Yes, you'll go straight to bed, Tommy. It's late."
Tom hummed something in response, and then Gryffindor tightened his grip, "we are going to apparate now- be good, Tommy."
I'm always good.
He just yawned, and they apparated- and Gryffindor never let go off him, but held him close.
Eventually, they arrived in the biggest entry hall he had ever seen- even bigger than the one at the mansion, "home?", he asked questioningly, and Gryffindor nodded, smiling at him, "yes, you're home now, Tommy. Let's get you to bed, okay?"
"Kay…", he mumbled, snuggling close again, "tired…wanna sleep…wanna be…good…"
"I know you do- and you know what? I can help you with that, Tommy."
"Help…with what?"
"Help you being a good boy for me", Gryffindor's voice was very soft, "do you want to be Daddy's good little boy? Let Daddy take care of you?"
Tom smiled, his eyes closed, "Daddy…snuggle with me?"
"Yes, Tommy, Daddy snuggles with you."
His smile got wider, he so liked being close to Gryffindor like this, "what else…Daddy do?"
"Hmmm…let me think", Gryffindor pretended to think hard for a couple seconds while he carried his boy upstairs, "gives you a bath, reads you a bedtime story, tucks you into bed, teaches you things, plays with you, feeds you, buys you toys, and clothes, and presents…"
"That…sounds…nice", he whispered, "not…little though…I'm a big boy."
Gryffindor just chuckled, he seemed amused for some reason, "we'll see about that, baby bear", and then he gently put him in his bed, it was a nice bed, a huge canopy bed, and Tom groaned in delight, "soft, Daddy…", he mumbled, "so…soft…"
Gryffindor hummed in agreement, and then he carefully undressed his boy, putting him in some cozy pajamas for the night, "ready to sleep now, my boy?"
Tom gave a tiny grunt in response, and Gryffindor chuckled again, "I see. I just need you to drink something real quick, okay? Can you open wide for me?"
Tom obediently opened his mouth, even though he was half asleep already, and Gryffindor wasted no time taking a small vial out of his robes, "good boy, Tommy…such a good boy…", and Tom gagged, the potion tasted nasty, and he whimpered, trying to spit it back out.
"No, Tommy", Gryffindor told him firmly, "you have to swallow it. All of it. Be a good boy now, hmm?"
Another whimper, but the boy did swallow- and before Gryffindor could praise him again, the door opened, and Salazar and Aurelius silently walked in.
"Did he take them yet?", Salazar asked him quietly, watching Tom.
"Just the first one- he did good, swallowed everything", Godric told him in a low voice, "the second one is even nastier though- I might need your help."
"Let me help, Dad!", Aurelius whispered, stepping closer, "I can hold his arms again."
"Alright, go ahead then- he's almost passed out anyways, so he shouldn't fight you too much."
Aurelius just nodded, and then he walked over to the bed, sitting next to Tom, gently pushing his arms down.
The older boy winced, whimpering, and then he tried to squirm away, but Aurelius did not let go, "shhh…be a good boy now...no struggling, baby bear", Aurelius mumbled, tightening his grip.
"No…spankies…no…", Tom sobbed, his struggles getting more desperate, and Aurelius carefully lay down next to him, still holding him, "no one's going to spank you, Tommy", he promised him quietly, "you just have to drink something real quick, okay? And then you can sleep."
"Wanna…sleep!"
"I know, Tommy- open wide, just like that…there you go…", and while Aurelius was holding him, Gryffindor poured the second potion in his mouth- the deaging potion.
It tasted vile, and Tom immediately gagged, but Aurelius still not let go off him- he waited until he had swallowed everything, even the last drop.
"Good boy, Tommy- such a good boy."
He whimpered, "no…more…"
"No more, sweet boy. Just close your eyes and sleep, Tommy", Gryffindor told him softly, "you are Daddy's good boy now, hmm?"
Tom smiled, oblivious to the changes already happening, "yah, me good boy!"
They all smiled back at him, noticing that the transformation had started- within minutes, the eighteen year old looked like a twelve year old.
And it continued.
"Fascinating, isn't it?", his Father was smiling at him, and Aurelius nodded, still staring at Tom, who was happily babbling something in his sleep.
"He's not in any pain, right?"
"No- the first potion was a very strong pain reliever, so he won't feel anything. He will just sleep, and when he wakes up tomorrow morning, he'll be your little brother", his Dad explained, stepping closer as well, "he'll be five years old."
They were all watching Tom now, who was about Sirius' age right now, the pajamas way too big for him, which made him look even more cute.
"And…is he going to remember being eighteen?"
"He will- for the most part. Over time, his old memories will slowly fade away, until eventually, he will only keep the most important ones, but even those will get pushed in the back of his brain over time", Salazar explained, "it's the same potion we used for Sirius."
Tom suddenly whimpered, tossing in his sleep, and before his parents got there, Aurelius- always the perfect big brother- was by his side, "hey there…everything's good, baby bear…just go back to sleep…", he told the boy quietly, gently raking through his hair, "sweet dreams…"
Tom smiled, liking the hand in his hair, and he snuggled closer, and Aurelius started to hum something, the same melody he used for Sirius, and immediately, Tom stopped tossing, and stilled.
"Good boy", Aurelius praised him quietly, "you are going to be such a good boy for me, hmm?"
"Don't bet on it, son", his Father was standing next to him now, speaking in a low voice, "his behavior is not going to last, unfortunately", and then he gently picked the boy up, who was the size of a five year old now, and smiled, "there you are, Tommy- Daddy's good little boy", and he gave him a soft kiss on his forehead, and Tom made an adorable tiny grunt in his sleep, and then he looked at Aurelius, "do you want to hold your brother? The transformation is done."
"Yes, please", Aurelius' smile got soft while he carefully held the sleeping Tom in his arms, "he's so small", he whispered, "so much smaller than Sirius- and kind of light."
"We'll have to feed him up good", Godric agreed, "and Aurelius- I meant what I said. He'll be pretty much back to his old self tomorrow, he was pliant tonight because I disciplined him and because he was hangover and exhausted, but he'll most likely throw tantrum after tantrum as soon as he wakes up tomorrow."
"He's only five years old, I'm sure he'll give in quickly and obey."
"He is five years old physically- but mentally, he will still have parts of his adult brain for a while", Salazar told him, "which means that everything a normal little boy does will be exciting for him as well- while he'll still be too ashamed to do anything for a while about it, thanks to the parts of his brain that still believes he is eighteen."
"So…what are we going to do?", Aurelius asked hesitantly, looking at his peacefully sleeping younger brother.
"He is going to need every one of us- a strict father, a loving father, and a caring older brother", his Father said calmly, "we will have to be firm with him- especially you, Aurelius. He's most likely not going to want to obey you at all, and he will test you- way more than Sirius ever did. Show him who is in charge- and get him to trust you."
"That…won't be easy", Aurelius said quietly, and his parents nodded.
"It won't be easy, no- but it will be worth it. He's worth it", Salazar said, and then he gently took the sleeping boy out of Aurelius' arms, and with a quick spell, he resized the pajamas.
"I'm putting him back to bed now", he told them quietly, and Tom stirred in his sleep, snoring softly.
"Let me do it, please", Godric whispered, and Salazar nodded, smiling, and handed his partner their youngest son, "here you go, love."
Godric took the boy carefully, smiling at his handsome, relaxed face, "there's my baby bear", he mumbled, "Daddy loves you, Tommy…", and then he kissed him again, knowing very well that it would take a long time until he would be able to refer to himself as Tom's Daddy again- because as soon as he woke up, the boy would hate him for what he had done to him.
And he still was not sure if he was ever going to forgive him.
yap yap...in the next chap, Tom will have to deal with being a 5 year old again...and it will be...ugly.
Also, Charlie and William from Hogsmeade will appear again later in the story :D
I'd looooove some comments! Thanks in advance! :)
xoxo, Antonie :)