Hey! It's almost midnight here, but I really wanted to post this chapter today lol. I am sorry for the delay, life has been hectic lately.
Thank you, as always, to the wonderful, amazing Gypsyrose98 and Anniiieh for your loyalty! ;)
WARNING: SPANKING in this chapter! And the mention of attempted sexual abuse as well!
"Hey, be careful, please!"
Harry just snorted, ignoring the fact that he had almost run the small girl from Hufflepuff over, and he kept making his way across the corridor, not caring who he bumped into.
"Watch out!"
He stumbled when he ran into someone else, a boy from Ravenclaw this time who had fallen to the floor, looking at him angrily, "you…you just ran into me! Can't you pay attention?"
"You almost made me fall! How about you watch where you are going!", Harry hissed at him in such a menacing tone that the boy shrank back. After a few seconds, he got his composure back though, slowly getting up, "it wasn't my fault. You should say you are sorry!"
"Well, I am not- if anyone should apologize it's you for being clumsy."
"I am not clumsy."
"Yes, you are", and even though Harry had never been violent towards others, and he had certainly never been a bully, he saw himself giving the boy who was maybe a year or two younger than him, a hard shove, "now get out of my way."
"What's wrong with you!"
"That's a very good question indeed."
Oh shit.
Harry froze at the voice, not daring to turn around. Snape was the last person he wanted to see, not after what happened in Potion's a few days ago. They did not have another class until tomorrow, and he was already debating if he even wanted to show up for it or not.
"A word, Potter."
"I…I have to…I was just…"
"That wasn't a suggestion, Potter", and now Snape's voice had gotten icy, and the Ravenclaw used the opportunity to hastily sped off. No one ever wanted to get near Snape when he lost his temper.
He slowly turning around, coming face to face with a furious looking Snape, "follow me, boy."
Harry closed his eyes for a second, suddenly wishing he had never had had this stupid idea to make Snape angry- because now he really was angry, and it was scary as hell.
He silently followed the Professor, realizing with dread forming in his stomach that he was taking him to his office again- the place where he had spanked him last time.
"Take a seat, Potter", Snape slammed the door shut behind him, causing Harry to flinch, "I…uhm…"
"Eloquent as always, Potter", Snape's tone was sardonic, "sit down. We are going to have a talk."
Harry did as told, staring at his shoes once he was seated. It had been a mistake to harass the other boy, he knew that- but he had been so damn angry.
"I am sorry", he blurted out before Snape could reprimand him for bullying the Ravenclaw, "I just…I haven't slept well lately, and I've lots of assignments to do, and I…", he stopped when he saw Snape raising an eyebrow, his stomach clenching at the expression on his face.
He doesn't believe me.
"I…I am sorry", he repeated quietly, not knowing what else to say, "I didn't…I didn't mean to."
There was a silence.
"That I believe- you have your faults, but you have never been a bully, Potter", Snape eventually said, "I am more interested in your recent escapades in my class anyways- and I am starting to think there is a connection there."
"I am sorry."
"So you've said, Potter", Snape's voice was calm, "but I do not think you are sorry- I think you acted out in my class on purpose."
Harry tried to laugh, failing miserably, "that's…no. I mean, I don't want detention that bad."
"Not detention, no- but I think you want a spanking, Potter."
He thought his heart was going to stop. He could feel cold sweat forming on his back, and his face turned pale, "I…did not…I was…it's…I can…explain…"
Snape sighed, "Potter, if you are trying to punish yourself for something Black did…"
"No, no, that's not it!", Harry blurted out, interrupting Snape, "I mean, yeah, the reason I'm so angry has to do with Sirius, but…not like that."
"Why are you angry then, Potter?"
Harry swallowed, not liking where this was going, "he…he's not answering any of my letters", he finally whispered, the pain obvious in his voice, "I…I keep asking him to…to help me, to…to just…try to…be there for me, but he's not. He's just…he doesn't…care."
"Black has always been selfish to the core, Potter", Snape replied without much sympathy, "your anger at your godfather does not explain your behavior in my class, though."
"I…I was just…I was hoping…I could…forget everything…for a while", Harry croaked, his voice thick with embarrassment, "and…I thought…you probably…would enjoy to…to sp…spank me again."
"I did not enjoy disciplining you, Potter, and I believe I already told you that last time", Snape sounded somewhat irritated now, "spanking you is supposed to help you to do better- it is for your benefit, not mine."
"Yeah, I…I get that", Harry whispered, his face dark red, "I…I am sorry, this is…I should go", he stood up, getting ready to get the hell out of Snape's office, but Snape's smooth voice stopped him, "what exactly do you mean by…forget everything for a while?"
"No…nothing", Harry choked out, "I…I don't know what I'm saying. Please just…forget this conversation, Sir."
"Sit down, Potter."
Harry did not move, he just stood there, looking miserable, and ashamed and…lost.
"I am assuming you talked to someone about our last…encounter in here", Snape began, "and that someone shared something with you- about what could happen after a spanking. About…getting into a certain headspace."
Harry stayed silent, he knew he would not be able to say anything anyways, the shame forming a lump in his throat.
"It is quite unlikely you would be able to achieve that, though- getting into that headspace usually requires a connection, a strong bond between the person getting spanked and the person handing out the spanking", Snape now said, his voice casual like he was explaining some schoolwork to him, "to put it short- it requires trust."
"I…yeah, I understand. This…was stupid. I…I am just gonna…leave…", Harry forced back the tears, knowing this whole conversation was utterly ridiculous, "sorry for…disrupting your class, Professor. Sorry for…being such a…bother."
"Look at me, Potter."
He did, reluctantly.
"You do deserve a spanking for your behavior in my class", Snape told him, "I have been lenient with punishing you because I was…well, call it curious. I wanted to see how far you were willing to take your disrespect, assuming that you wanted a spanking because you felt guilty about something."
Harry blinked, "but…if I can't…get into that headspace, then…"
To his surprise, Snape had to laugh, the sound very much unexpected, "I see- unfortunately, how I decide to punish you is not up for debate, Potter. You'll get ten again- five for slamming down the books and five for turning in those pathetic excuses of assignments."
"I…please…"
Snape walked over to the same armchair he had sat in when he had spanked him the last time, "come here, Potter."
Harry started to tremble, this was not what he had wanted- not like this. On the other hand, he knew he deserved the spanking, but still…
What should I do now?
"Come here, Potter", Snape repeated, his voice still oddly calm, "this will be much easier for you if you cooperate."
"I…think…I should…just go", Harry croaked, taking a step back, "I won't…disrupt your class again, Sir, I…I'll do…my homework, I…"
"I am sure you will", Snape agreed calmly, "after I am done spanking you, you won't even think about being rude to me ever again."
"I…please…"
"Do I need to come over there and get you, Potter?", and now his tone was sharp, "you misbehaved, and now you are getting disciplined for it- unless you rather have detention until Christmas with me?"
Harry paled, "no, please, Sir, I…I am coming", it sounded just as miserable as he felt, and then he slowly made his way over to the Potion Master, "isn't…there another option?"
"Another punishment you mean?", Snape replied, amusement in his voice, "well, certainly, Potter- how about some corner time or how about a naughty boy spanking?"
Harry did not dare to ask, and Snape seemed to sense his horror because he gave a small laugh, "corner time means you would have to stand in the corner facing the wall- and a naughty boy spanking is a spanking with your pants down."
Harry made a sound between a whimper and a groan, and Snape had to chuckle, "don't worry- both of those punishments require trust- the same trust you need to get into that headspace I was talking about. Now come here", he patted his knee, and Harry closed his eyes, letting Snape pull him across his lap again.
This is a nightmare.
"I am expecting you to count, Potter."
"Ye…yes, Sir."
Snape did not respond, instead, he lifted his hand- and then, it began.
Smack.
"One, Sir", he felt like crying already, knowing very well he had only himself to thank for the mess he was in now- it was entirely his fault.
Smack.
"Two, Sir."
Smack.
"Th…three, Sir", that one had stung, and for some reason, this spanking felt more painful than the last one- or maybe that was all in his head.
Smack.
"F…four, Sir", he managed to say, tears forming in his eyes. He felt so small, and stupid, and guilty for what he had done- and everything was such a mess…
"Tell me why are you getting spanked, Potter."
"Because…I disrupted…your class, Professor", came the quiet reply, "and…for turning in messy work."
"And?"
"And for…pushing the Ravenclaw just now."
"What else, Potter?"
Harry blinked. Had he done anything else wrong?
"I…I am not sure…what you mean, Sir", he stuttered, squirming on Snape's lap in discomfort.
"You don't, Potter? How about the fact that you tried to rile me up on purpose, trying to get me to take part in your little scheme?", Snape sounded disapproving, and Harry felt the first tear rolling down his face, "I…I am sorry. I just…sounded so good what…Hermione said", he whispered, his voice thick with shame, "to…to forget."
"So Granger told you this- why am I not surprised", he could hear Snape mumble, "you should have asked Lupin to spank you, Potter- he might achieve to get you to that headspace."
"Remus never punishes me", Harry responded, his voice low, "he does not…believe in it."
"Lupin is an idiot", Snape said rudely, "you would not get in half as much trouble if someone was tanning your behind once in a while, Potter- and you very well know that."
Harry bit his lips, he knew Snape was right- and it made his heart heavy to know that neither Remus nor Sirius bothered to discipline him, which had started to feel like they simply did not care enough. Snape did, though- for whatever strange reason.
"Six more, Potter", Snape eventually announced, and Harry stiffened again.
"Yes…Sir", he said quietly though, "I'm sorry."
"I know, Potter", Snape did not sound quite so irritated anymore, his voice softer, and it helped- it helped a lot.
Smack.
"Fi…ve, Sir", he sniffed, the tears flowing almost freely now.
Smack.
"Six! Sir!"
Smack.
"Se…veeeen, Sir!", he tried to kick, the pain becoming too much, but Snape immediately tightened his grip, "I promised you ten and ten is what you will get, Potter", he told him firmly, and Harry had no idea why this made him feel relieved. He shouldn't feel relieved about Snape swatting his ass, but the fact alone that Snape bothered, that Snape cared to stick to a consequence…
"Thank you, Sir", he blurted out before Snape could deliver swat number eight, "thank…you."
Ohmygod, did I really just thank him for spanking me?
His face heated with shame, but to his surprise, Snape did not mock him, he just let out a small laugh, "anytime, naughty boy", his voice was very soft now, "you are doing very well, you know that? Taking your punishment like such a brave boy."
Brave. Snape had called him brave.
Harry started to sob, and then everything became too much. He was crying, he was ugly crying now, the tears making it impossible to see anything, and he did not even notice that Snape had pulled him in a sitting position, not until the Potion Master opened his arms in a silent invitation.
"So…sorr…rry…", Harry choked out between sobs, instinctively pressing his face into Snape's chest, "so…rry…"
"Shhh…I know you are sorry, Potter", Snape's voice was still soft, and kind, "you are all forgiven…it's all good…all good, boy…good boy…"
And Harry kept sniffling, listening to Snape's low words of praise with wonder in his eyes, and then Snape pulled him even closer, humming something, and then…it happened.
Everything became still. Everything stopped, the pain, the worry, the guilt, the anger…and then he was floating, safely snuggled into Snape, the feared Potion Master, who was humming to him, holding him close, and he smiled, a dazed, dreamy expression on his face.
This…is…nice…
He had been staring into his glass with bourbon for about twenty minutes now, not able to really focus on anything. Since he had come home the day before, that's all he had been doing- drinking and staring into space.
Waking up swaddled into a blanket yet again had been humiliating- even though he had slept amazing. He had been confused, too, remembering only that he had played some kind of game with Aurelius- and won- and that he had eaten pizza for lunch. Anything after that was a blur, and his mind was not able to grasp what had happened.
Gryffindor had finally given him back his wand and let him go home- making him promise he'd be back in a few days for truce negotiations and to make a plan how to convince the werewolves and vampires to join the army.
I'll miss you, Tommy.
He snorted, thinking of Gryffindor's last words before he had apparated- there was no way in hell he had meant that, right? Why would he miss him? Him? Aurelius certainly wouldn't- be was probably celebrating right now that he was finally gone.
He took another sip of his bourbon, feeling pretty drunk already. The last days had been the most confusing and strange ones of his life- and he had no clue how to handle his feelings now. It irritated him that he had missed being tightly wrapped into a blanket last night, and he had missed Gryffindor smiling at him, calling him…
My sweet boy
Good boy
Baby bear…
He cursed, slamming the glass with liquor down. This was ridiculous! He was an adult, he was the Dark Lord, he had an Order to rule and a war to win, instead of weeping over Godric bloody Gryffindor treating him like a dumb child!
"My…mylord?"
"What, Wormtail!", he hissed, not even bothering to turn around, "what you want?"
"The…Death Eaters, they…are wondering…when…there will be…another meeting", Peter stuttered, clearly terrified of asking, "you…were gone for…two days and…"
"Crucio."
Tom had another sip of his drink, but now he was furious. As if all those stupid feelings he suddenly had weren't bad enough, now his servant had the audacity to ask for a meeting!
I am losing control. I can't lose control!
He ended the torture spell, not because he wanted to, but because he still needed Peter for his odd jobs, and then he got up, his movements already unsteady from drinking for one day straight, "call a meeting then, Wormtail!", he demanded, "call it…right now."
Peter coughed up some blood, his whole body trembling, "yes, My…my…myl…"
"Get the fuck out."
Pettigrew whimpered and dragged his body to the door, the pain he was feeling agonizing. He hated to be the one the Death Eaters always send with their demands, because in the end, he always was the one getting crucioed.
Minutes later, the Death Eaters apparated into the conference room, it was almost midnight, but no one ever dared to let Lord Voldemort wait. There seemed to be some tension between them, though, and Tom, dressed in black robes and showing off his snake persona, immediately knew something was off.
"Mylord", Rosier, who apparently had crowned himself their spokesperson since Malfoy was gone stepped forward, "Mylord, it is good to see you…so well."
"Is it now?", Tom snarled, raising his wand, "get to the point, Rosier."
"There…there are rumors, Mylord", Rosier now said, his tone not quite so submissive anymore, "rumors about…a truce. A truce with Gryffindor", he spit out the last word like it was something especially nasty, "of course we know there is no…truth to that, Mylord", yet, it sounded like a question.
Tom did not miss the fact that some of the Death Eaters were holding on to their wands tightly, and cold sweat started to form on his back. He knew he was in deep shit now- if they really wanted to topple him, bring him down, they could.
I can't lose control. This is all I have. I am nothing without them, without the Dark Order.
"There is no truce, and there never will be a truce!", he hissed at Rosier, his tone so forceful that the man flinched, bowing his head, "of…of course there…isn't, Mylord", he groveled, "just…the…rumors…"
"Sectumsempra!"
He grinned when Rosier howled out in pain, knowing very well that he had needed to do this to show them who was in charge, that he was still their leader.
The question was, for how long? How long would it take the rumors to get back, to spread, to increase in urgency? Gryffindor needed him, he needed him to get the werewolves, but…did he really need Gryffindor?
You are my sweet boy, Tommy.
I like having you around, Tommy.
I'll miss you, Tommy.
"I…apologize, Mylord", Rosier now croaked, bowing his head even further, "you…you are…the…the strongest leader, Mylord. The only one who can…beat Dumbledore."
There were murmurs of agreement from the rest of them, telling him his little power demonstration had helped- but again, how long would it last?
"You…you certainly have…a plan already to…bring Dumbledore down, Mylord", Rosier added, an edge of something…something weird in his voice, something Tom was too drunk to decipher, "we are just…waiting for your command, Mylord."
That part made his thin lips curl- yes, they were waiting for his command, just like they should He was their leader, the leader of the Dark Order, and maybe these annoying feelings would stop if he was concentrating on what was really important again: The war against Dumbledore.
"The Dark Order is ready for your command, Mylord", Rosier repeated, a sly tone in his voice, but Tom was too deep in thought to even notice it.
"The…command", he began, unsure what exactly his command would be, and Rosier nodded, his face an expression of smugness, "your command to…attack, Mylord", he told him, "we are attacking, right?"
Don't attack- Dumbledore is just waiting for that, so he can capture the rest of you.
Do not attack him, Thomas. Do not.
Attacking Dumbledore would be a suicide mission, Thomas.
Tom swallowed hard, feeling pushed in a corner suddenly, forced to make a decision he did not want to make. Attacking Dumbledore would be risky- and if Gryffindor found out…no, he did not even want to think about that. Gryffindor would murder him, and the Founder could be fucking terrifying when he was angry.
"You…will win, Mylord", Pettigrew not stuttered, "you are…brilliant, the most…talented wizard in the world…", and Peter kept babbling on how perfect and clever and strong he was, and Tom drank each word up like a sponge, needing this after the humiliations he had experienced in the last few days.
"We…are going to attack!", he eventually announced, still under the spell of the groveling from Wormtail and Rosier specifically, "I will destroy Dumbledore!"
And I'll make you proud, Gryffindor.
That announcement was met with loud cheers, the Death Eaters had been impatiently waiting to let loose and go out and kill, most of them too dumb to realize that there was no way they could win an attack against Dumbledore and his army.
"Dumbledore will go down!"
More cheers and yells, and then Rosier stepped forward again, "they are meeting tonight, Mylord", he informed him, "a perfect…opportunity."
Tom did not realize it sounded a little bit too perfect, he was too eager to get started now, "we will attack tonight then!", he exclaimed, "attack and destroy!"
With Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape absent, there was no one with any intelligence left in the Dark Order- Malfoy and Snape would have stopped him, and maybe Devon Zabini would have as well, but he was in the sickbay with Bellatrix, who had been declining every day, barely holding on to her life, which was technically a mere existence now at this point.
Rosier informed him about the meeting Dumbledore was holding at the Ministry, promising that they were only a few army members in attendance, but eventually, the other Death Eaters yelled at him to shut up and get going already. They were out for blood.
Unprepared, drunk, tired, and without any real strategy, Tom saw himself leading the Death Eaters to an attack against Dumbledore's army in the middle of the night- and to make matters worse, the weather was cold and foggy.
In short, it was the absolute worst time and day for an attack.
Rosier seemed to be the only one knowing exactly what he was doing since he confidently led them to a side building of the Ministry, and Tom's heart started to hammer when he saw the Death Eaters getting ready behind him, the realization suddenly hitting him like a punch in the gut.
What am I doing here? I can't do this! Gryffindor will kill me!
"Ten seconds!", Rosier hissed, and Tom frowned in irritation- since when did fucking Rosier give the commands?
"I…we shouldn't…"
"Attack!", Rosier bellowed, interrupting him, and Tom had to watch the Death Eaters storming forward, storming to the building, and then…all hell broke loose.
Aurors appeared out of nowhere, casting spells, and Tom watched, somewhat numb already, how Goyle senior was the first to crumble to the ground- followed quickly by Corban Yaxley and Peter Pettigrew.
"Regroup! Regroup!", someone roared, and Death Eaters were falling over left and right from him, but they weren't dying- the army members were simply casting a Stupor spell on them, something that made no sense. Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, not until most of the Death Eaters were laying motionlessly on the ground, with only Tom, Rosier, Crabbe senior, and a few others still fighting.
There were simply too many Aurors, too many of them, and Tom realized with cold dread forming in his stomach what he had done. He had run straight into his own perdition.
I am gonna die. He's gonna kill me.
The thought of dying itself did not scare him much- but the events leading to it did.
"There's my fearless leader", Dumbledore sounded…strange, and if Tom didn't know it any better, he'd say he was aroused, "you came to me, boy."
Tom tried to say something, tried to cast a spell, but he was suddenly unable to move or speak, and he realized with growing horror that his snake illusion was gone, too- making him look like the eighteen year old he really was.
Whatthefuck is happening? What spell is this?
He barely noticed how the Aurors immobilized one after the other from his Death Eaters, until he was the last one standing- facing Dumbledore alone.
Fuck. This is it. This is it…I failed. I failed you, Gryffindor.
And screw him for having to force back the tears now.
"You made this easy…too easy. I need a good chase before I can enjoy my prey", Dumbledore now said, the glint in his eyes showing his insanity, "we'll have some fun now, pretty boy."
He has a whole section at the camp reserved just for you, Thomas.
Dumbledore wouldn't only rape and torture you, Thomas- he would break you.
And then Tom started to scream without making a sound, the terror of Dumbledore's words causing him to panic, but he still couldn't talk or move or do anything against the fact that Dumbledore grabbed him now, the simple touch enough for him to become unconscious.
Nooooooooooooo!
I know what you are thinking now- but I could not do it. I could not write that, so...I am already telling you that ahead of time. Not to say that Dumbles won't be a bastard in the next chap, but he won't go that far. If that's a spoiler now, I take it ;)
I'd love some feedback from you!
xoxo,
Antonie