Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters and ideas are the whole intellectual property of Ms. J.K. Rowling and are hers alone to sell. I do not receive, nor would I accept any compensation for any of the owned intellectual property of Ms. Rowling (nor that which she has licensed to WB etc.). What follows is just a wacky little ditty I wanted to get out of my brain. It only got there because I so love that which Ms. Rowling created. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 3: Six year old wand pincher

It started like any other lunch at Hogwarts, some of the teachers talked quietly amongst themselves, others graded papers, or went over lesson plans. The students, at their respective tables ate, chatted and frantically finished homework for the afternoon classes – and Harry Potter, flitted from table to table, eating a little of this, and a little of that, and generally being as cute as a six-year-old could manage to be with potatoes under his fingernails.

He didn't have a preference, still so blissfully certain that everyone liked each other, that he refused, point blank to understand the inter-house rivalry and instead enjoyed his time with everyone.  Everyone was so used to the curious Harry climbing around, under chairs and tables, that they hardly paid any attention to him at all, which is part of why it was so easy for him to achieve his goal this particular noontime…

BOOM!!!!! The hall erupted in chaos as the Slytherin table up-ended itself, sending food flying in every direction.  Finally, it took several loud bangs from the end of Dumbledore's wand to restore calm.

'Who did this?' he demanded, taking in the damage.

'Jesus, Mary and Joseph…' exclaimed Patrick Boone quietly, though not quietly enough not to be heard by the teachers. 'It's Harry!'

Without a second thought, Snape vaulted over the staff table, only to stop abruptly in front of the ruined Slytherin table. The students of his own house, along with any nearby Ravenclaws quickly withdrew as they watched the look of worry on the potions masters' face quickly dissolve into undisguised anger. 'HARRY!?!'

The dark haired boy stood frozen, in the midst of the destruction, rigid with shock – a wand still in his pudgy hand, unable to say anything as his father's rage broke. 'What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?! You know bloody well that you're not allowed to touch a wand…' He paused, and closing his eyes, he took a long deep breath to calm himself before turning a cold glare on the now trembling child and snapping his fingers. Instantly, Harry was gone, and Snape bent down to retrieve the wand that had clattered from Harry's fingers. 'Who's wand is this?' he demanded in a dangerously quiet growl, trying to ignore the gasps of the students as someone whispered oh my God! He's killed him… 'Don't be stupid,' he growled at the Slytherin second-year who made the comment  as he thrust the wand into the hand of the Ravenclaw who claimed it. 'I merely sent him to his room.' And, with a wave of his own wand, he repaired the table and removed all of the food from the walls before stocking out of the hall.

*****

Harry Potter was in BIG trouble and he knew it. He'd tried to take a wand before, but had been caught before he'd had a chance to try anything and told in no uncertain terms that he was not allowed to touch a wand. Daddy had been quite firm about that… But Harry was too curious, and when he saw the wand, just sitting there – sticking out of the Ravenclaw girl's bag… He wasn't sure what he'd done, but he was sure that it wasn't what he'd wanted to do, and then Daddy had come over and yelled at him. That would make Daddy angry too – Harry knew that his Daddy didn't like the others to see him losing his temper – he always wanted to seem calm and serious in front of people – the people at school most of all…

The look on his Daddy's face as he stormed into Harry's room confirmed his worst fears… 'How many times have I told you not to touch a wand?!' he demanded, grabbing Harry and sitting down on the overstuffed wing chair that sat beside the boy's bed. 'What did I tell you about taking ANYTHING from a student?! Someone could have been hurt! You could have been hurt! What did I say would happen the next time you tried to steal a wand?' he growled finally, pulling Harry over his knee for a thorough spanking.

'You stay here,' he growled again, as Harry stood crying loudly in the middle of his room a few minutes later. 'I have to go and see if I can get someone to take my class, and then I'll be back. If you step one foot out of your room,' he glared at his boy, pointing an accusing finger. 'I'll have you over my knee again. Is that understood?' Still crying too much to answer, Harry merely managed a nod through the tears.

****

'What did you do to him?' asked Minerva suspiciously when he'd asked if she would be willing to take his first year classes that afternoon.

'Exactly what I told him I'd do if he tried to touch a wand again Minerva,' he sighed. 'Will you take the classes or not?'

'Yes, yes,' she sighed, eyeing him closely. 'Just spend the time with him, and remember Severus,' she reached out, touching his arm. 'After the sting, comes the honey.'

'Whatever are you blathering about Minerva?' Severus demanded in frustration.

'You have to comfort him, reassure him…' she grabbed his arm again when he rolled his eyes and started to turn away.

'Minerva, this is hardly the first time the boy has had to be punished. I have managed him for nearly four years without traumatizing him …'

'Yes.' Her grip tightened on the potions master's arm. 'But this was certainly the most public – you've never yelled at him in front of people like that. I know,' she added quickly when he opened his mouth to protest. 'It was also, likely the most serious trouble he's ever been in, so it was imminently appropriate. But make sure he understands that even though you hate what he did, you don't hate him. Make him know that you still love him, no matter what.'

Severus knew he should be angry. Minerva was overstepping in telling him how to deal with Harry. He was the boy's guardian for goodness sake! He already knew perfectly well that he had to talk to the boy rationally now to reassure him of exactly what Minerva was saying, but the fact that she would assume otherwise annoyed him greatly.

'Precisely why I was asking you to take my classes this afternoon, Minerva,' he said coldly. 'Now, if you're still willing, I should be getting back. He's had long enough to think about it all and calm down a little.' With a nod from Minerva, Severus turned on his heel, heading back toward his and Harry's apartments. When he arrived back at Harry's room he found the boy laying across his bed, still crying quietly. 'Harry,' he said gently as he approached the bed. The boy tensed slightly, trying to wipe away his tears before rolling over to stand beside the bed, his eyes downcast.

With a sigh, Severus lowered himself into the chair beside the bed, beckoning Harry to come closer.  Tears fogged up his glasses as Harry stood staring down at his fathers boots. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Severus took Harry's glasses and polished them off before gently wiping all of the tears off of Harry's face. 'That's better,' he said gently, putting the glasses carefully back on Harry's nose.

'Do you know why I had to punish you?' he asked, still maintaining a gentle voice.

'Because I'm bad,' Harry replied with a sniff, new tears filling his eyes.

'No,' Severus smiled at him reassuringly, gently lifting his chin to look him in the eyes. 'You're not bad. What you did was bad. What did I tell you before about wands?' His voice was stern, but not threatening as he spoke.

'Not to touch them.' Harry lowered his gaze again, as a few tears spilled down his cheeks.

'And why not?'

'I'm too little.'

'And,' Severus prompted.

'Not allowed.'

'And…'

'Someone get hurt.'

'And…'

'You said not to,' Harry sniffed again, pushing his glasses up on his forehead to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve.

'Harry,' he said, taking the boy's hands into his own. 'I don't make up rules just to make you miserable. You've got to trust that there's a reason for all of it, alright?'

'I'm sorry Daddy,' Harry said, nodding miserably.

'I know you are Harry,' Severus said kindly. 'But more important than being sorry, is not doing something you know you shouldn't in the first place. Understood? Come here, lad,' he added kindly when Harry nodded again.  Instantly, Harry climbed up, burying his face in his father's shoulder, fist holding tight to the folds of his robes. 'Everyone makes mistakes, Harry. Everyone,' he sighed. 'Some are bigger than others, but all have consequences. I know it's hard for you to understand right now, but I have to punish you for the small mistakes you make now, so maybe you'll be wiser when you're older and won't make the really big mistakes…' he sighed, rocking Harry gently in his arms as he rubbed small, comforting circles on his back. 'The kind of mistakes that you can't fix…' he was whispering now, as much to himself as to Harry.

The rest of the afternoon saw Severus reading to Harry (Henry Mudge : mad Muggle and the Floo of doom), the two talking about further consequences of what he'd done, and a rousing game of Exploding Snap. In what seemed like no time at all, it was time for dinner, and the final consequences of Harry's actions earlier in the day.

All eyes were suddenly on Harry and Professor Snape as they entered the Great Hall that evening. Nervously, Harry clung to his Daddy's leg, trying to hide in the folds of his long robes. The students watched in amazement as their dour potions master leaned over and spoke gently to the frightened boy. Even the teachers gaped as he took Harry's hand and led him part way down the Ravenclaw table. They stopped in front of a pretty blonde second-year who looked at the pair curiously.

Harry was leaning nervously against his father's legs, twisting the hem of the wizard's outer robe in his hands. The girl looked between the two as Severus bucked Harry lightly with his knee.

'Um, Sonia?' Harry said quietly, staring at his hands, still twisting the fabric of his father's hem. Severus reached down and gently angled Harry's head to face the girl he was speaking to. Swallowing nervously, Harry went on. 'I'm um, sorry I took your wand – um, before… um stole your wand…' he took a deep breath and forced himself to look directly into her eyes. 'I know I shouldn't have, and I'm really sorry.'

Sonia looked once from the bright, hopeful eyes of Harry Potter to Professor Snape who was looking determinedly over the heads of the students, before she replied. 'Thank-you Harry.' She smiled as a look of relief washed over the child's face. 'I accept your apology. Friends?' She held out her hand, smiling. Harry looked up quickly, and seeing his father nod, he shook her hand heartily, a big smile coming over his face. 'Just promise me one thing, Harry,' she said, leaning in and still holding his hand. 'Don't do it again, alright? You might have been hurt.' She wasn't sure, but she thought, for a moment, that a smile flitted across the professors' face when she said this, but didn't think about it as Harry promised very seriously to never touch any wands ever again (well at least not until he was old enough).

'If you'll excuse us Miss Blake?' Professor Snape said, leading Harry away.

'Bye Sonia,' smiled Harry. Both of Sonia's two best friends leaned in on each side of her to whisper about how cute!! little Harry was.

The hall continued to watch the pair, totally ignoring the food that had arrived, as Professor Snape hoisted Harry up to stand on the edge of the very end of the Slytherin table to apologise to them all for having destroyed their lunch. That completed, Harry leaped into his father's arms, totally oblivious to the ooh's and ah's – or the glare the potions master sent out to those cooing. Harry blushed, slouching down in his chair between his Daddy and Professor McGonagall when he noticed that the entire hall was still staring at him. Snape and McGonagall both glared around the room, sending all eyes immediately back to their own meals as talk broke out again.