[TW: Disciplinary spanking and non-consensual consent] This is not a slash fic per say, but it does have spanking as the main focal point. I strongly advise that you read the disclaimer in my bio prior to reading this fiction to see if this story might be a good read for you.
Author's notes: regarding the setting for this fic, please see the introductory notes at the beginning of chapter 1. Mention of spanking in this chapter.
Chapter 6: Homebound
Late morning's piercing light had failed to penetrate the dungeons' perpetual gloomy, dark quarters. A faint marigold hue from three lit candles illuminated the gray stone walls lining the office. The tall, waning candles sat in elongated holders, placed directly above Snape's round desk. They flickered softly in the darkness. The quiet dripping of their dwindling wax penetrated the room's silky silence, accompanied only by the sound of a quill dragging meticulously across aged paper.
The air carried a subtle scent of aged parchment, lingering potions, and faint smoke. Despite the sun's absence, the white-hot coals glowing in the previously roaring fireplace signified the approach of mid-day, their warmth radiating through the cool, damp air.
Snape's eyes scanned meticulously over the final page of his last hand-crafted lesson plan for his advanced potions class next term. Though the schedule was still unknown, he had astutely spent the remainder of the night constructing the last of the necessary plans for the upcoming year.
Satisfied with his work, he added the final period to his page and delicately filed it away.
He then gently tapped the nib of the quill to the edge of the inkwell, releasing it from the clinging last drops of the midnight-colored ink. He took a few extra moments to rinse the quill in a smidge of tap water, carefully blotting and drying it before meticulously inspecting it for any lingering traces of ink. Only after he was satisfied with the quill's condition did he set it aside and stand.
Meanwhile, in the small quarters attached to Snape's gloomy office, Harry was still deep in the blissful arms of sleep.
After a tediously slow walk to the office last night, the pair had settled in for the evening rather naturally. Snape lit the fire for the first time in years, and Harry slid gratefully into Snape's pine green sheets, without many questions or protests.
Glancing at a small clock on his desk, Snape was prompted into action. He strode purposefully to the fireplace, withdrawing his wand as he directed it to the burning hot coals. "Aguamenti", he commanded in a low, authoritative tone. The combustion of the coals crackling as they met the cold water echoed throughout the otherwise silent office. The water's cold consistency intertwined with the scorching heat of the coals hissed as it immediately extinguished the remaining embers left dwindling in the fireplace. A plume of white smoke rose softly from the hearth as Snape returned his wand to the folds of his charcoal colored travel cloak.
In Snape's adjacent quarters, the hissing sounds from the hearth lulled Harry out of his cozy cocoon of sleep. He lifted his head from the soft pillow and squinted as he tried to make sense of his blurry surroundings.
Everything was dark, and the stone covered walls carried no hint of light to illuminate any objects.
Harry slowly moved from his stomach to his back, grimacing slightly as he felt a dull, faint ache still lingering in his backside. He closed his eyes tightly as embarrassment flooded his chest.
Though he tried to think of something else, he couldn't help but blush as the vivid memory of last night's punishment came to the forefront of his mind.
"As it is nearly noon," the low, familiar voice cut in, interrupting Harry's reverie. "It is time to rise and prepare yourself. We must depart soon."
Harry nodded.
"Okay, Professor," he replied, his voice raspy and low from the strain of yesterday's cries.
Harry slowly sat up, stretching, and reached for his glasses on the small oak nightstand. To his surprise, he found Snape's outstretched hand holding them, their fingers briefly touching as he passed the cold frames to Harry.
"I'd advise you to find a better resting place for these than a bedside table." Snape said, though his tone was unexpectedly soft, lacking its usual bite.
"Oh, ah, okay thanks," Harry replied as he pulled the frames onto his face.
He felt a warm flush creeping up his neck, as he grappled with embarrassment. He couldn't shake the thought of how Snape had smacked his naked bum last night, ugh. The memory was enough to make him want to dive back into bed and stay there forever. How utterly dreadful.
As Harry adjusted his glasses, the dimly lit room came into focus, allowing him to witness Snape's silent departure from the room, without a further word.
Harry paused, taking a moment to reacquaint himself with Snape's quarters. The dark bedchamber was exceptionally bare, yet decorated in a clean, timeless fashion. Snape's bedspread was a rich, deep brown, matching the hues of the small oak nightstand, which held only a small candle and a mug of water.
Harry had fallen asleep in his clothes from the day before, despite Snape offering him a lounge robe. He now felt a tinge of guilt for opting to sleep in Snape's clean sheets with his day old clothes on.
Allowing his warm feet to make contact with the cold dungeon floor, Harry rose from the bed gingerly, careful not to put much pressure on his tender backside. He made his way to the compact bathroom adjacent to the bedchamber and turned the iron sink's handle toward him.
The sound of water splashing against the pristine white porcelain basin echoed in the stone-clad bathroom. The sink, while small, stood at the perfect height for Harry to lean slightly and splash his face with the bracingly cold water. He shuddered and then extended his hand to the black towel hanging from a hook near the sink.
Walking back out to the bedchamber Harry paused to glance at the oval floor length mirror in the room.
"Professor Snape?" Harry called, listening for a response or sound to indicate the man was still in his office.
Receiving no reply, and hearing no sounds that would otherwise suggest Snape was around, Harry turned and unfastened the clasp of his trousers. He made quick work of barring himself from the waist down as he craned to see his previously punished bum. Yet to Harry's utter shock, it looked normal.
He moved his free hand across the plains of his naked flesh and pondered how his skin could feel tender this morning, given there were no visible marks or bruises.
"Potter,"
Startled, Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned to find Snape looming in the doorframe like an unwelcome raincloud.
"Ah!" Harry exclaimed as he hurried to pull his trousers back up. "Professor Snape!"
Harry grumbled as he felt his face grow crimson with heat.
"You have got to start walking louder or something." He muttered quietly as he redid the clasp on his trousers.
"Your discretion with nudity astounds me." Snape replied, walking into the room, paying little mind to the boy's utter embarrassment. With a flick of his wand, the bed made itself.
"I didn't know you were there!" Harry replied, tossing his hands up defensively. "Did you not hear me call you?"
"I am here because you called me. I do not care for conversations shouted about a room." Snape replied in his low, dry tone.
Harry muttered something further under his breath as he turned to walk out of the bedchamber.
"You are perfectly capable of closing the door, Potter, if you choose not to seek the privacy of a restroom." Snape replied dismissively as he snatched the water cup from the bedside table. He withdrew a clean rag that he'd retrieved from his desk moments prior to dust off the table.
Harry turned back to give him a glare, albeit a rather embarrassed glare, but a glare nonetheless.
Snape rolled his eyes at the young wizard's contemptuous gaze.
"Honestly, Potter. Did you truly expect me to be so heartless as to anticipate permanent marks on your skin from last night's discipline?"
Harry lowered his eyes from Snape's intense gaze, as he tried to convince his body to stop flushing so deeply.
"No, no. It's just– um, I'm still a little… sore, okay?" Harry defended, his voice carrying a clear humiliation to it.
"Indeed." Snape replied before sighing and motioning for the young wizard to come to him. "Very well. Given that you are concerned, I will have a loo–"
"No!" Harry blurted out, unable to stop himself as he threw his hand up.
Snape raised an eyebrow in Harry's direction, leveling him with a terrifying glare.
"Oh, wait, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. So sorry. Please, Professor Snape," Harry swallowed as he took a few tentative steps back, "I didn't mean…"
Harry trailed off as he continued to back away, a sudden chill of apprehension coiled in his stomach as the painful consequence for last night's interruption came flooding back.
"Your nerve to interrupt me so soon after a rather firm punishment is astounding." Snape replied, though he made no advance towards the now petrified young wizard.
"I learned my lesson." Harry said with a hint of desperation in his tone. "Um, thank you for… offering to look and all, but I'm fine, really. The idea of that just… embarrassed me is all."
Snape let a moment of heavy silence hang in the cool, dimly lit air enveloping the small space as Harry suddenly found his feet utterly fascinating.
"I see. Ensure that this is your last time interrupting me, Potter. Correcting you for behavior so childish and rude is rather exhausting."
"Yes, sir. Sorry," Harry mumbled, his gaze still fixed on the stone floor.
Relief washed over him as Snape turned to walk out of the room, prompting him to follow suit.
"Given that you needed some extra rest this morning, I collected your things from Hagrid," Snape motioned to Harry's few bags and his broom.
Harry glanced back towards Snape, offering a soft, grateful smile. "Thanks."
Snape nodded, his tone softening slightly as he headed swiftly to the fireplace. "Collect them, it is time to depart."
"Oh," Harry replied, blinking in surprise. "We aren't saying goodbye to Professor McGonagall first?"
Snape sighed, lifting his small black chest by the leather strap clasped on top. "That is Professor McGonagall to you, Potter. Though you are no longer a student, you owe the Headmistress your respect until you have established a different rapport," Snape lightly scolded.
Harry couldn't resist the temptation to roll his eyes. "Okay, Professor McGonagall then," he retorted. "We don't need to tell her we're leaving?"
Snape resisted the urge to give the boy a smack for his tone.
"She has been informed of our departure, come along," he replied sternly, striding over to the Floo Powder on the mantel, its emerald grains glinting in the dimly lit space.
Harry gathered his bags and his broom, then sauntered over to the mantle. He glanced up at Snape, waiting for further instructions. The room was filled with the smoky scent of extinguished coals, creating a cozy yet slightly foreboding atmosphere.
With a practiced hand, Snape reached for the Floo Powder and offered some to Harry. "After you, Potter. One-eleven Silent Hollow," Snape said in his customary, stern tone. Harry nodded, as he took a pinch of the glittering green powder, and stepped closer to the fireplace.
"It's been some time since I've done this," he admitted, casting Snape a nervous glance.
Harry sucked in a deep breath and commanded, "One-eleven Silent Hollow," as he threw the Floo Powder into the fireplace. In an instant, emerald flames engulfed him and his things, swirling and crackling. He felt the familiar sensation of being sucked into a whirlwind come over him as he disappeared from the office.
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the flames subsided, leaving Harry standing in a new fireplace, similar yet distinct from the one he'd left. He turned to face the opening, peering back to see Snape preparing to follow suit.
With a final nod, Snape, too, took a handful of Floo Powder, calling our the house address as he cast it into the fireplace. The room filled with a fiery green hue once more as he vanished from sight, soon to reappear in their new home beside Harry.
The journey through the Floo Network was always a bit disorienting, but as the dust settled and the flames subsided, the two wizards found themselves in Snape's living room.
Harry glanced around, his heart filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. Unlike the office, the seating space by the fireplace contained not one, but two, antique armchairs. Their Russian green velvet coverings looked soft and luxurious. A small silver tea cart, accompanied by an exquisite set of cups and saucers, was displayed neatly. Underneath Harry's feet lay a bone-brown rug, so pristine that it made him feel almost guilty standing on it.
"Come along, Potter. I'll show you to your room," Snape stated calmly, his dark eyes flickering with a hint of warmth, as he led the way through the elegantly decorated living room.
As Harry followed behind Snape and his billowing travel cloak, he dragged his feet a bit, taking time to glance around. Just outside of the fireplace, the seating area opened up to a quaint living room, fitted with a vintage couch that matched the Russian green armchairs, and a mahogany oak coffee table set in front of it. Unlike the dungeon office, which always carried a certain unsavory musk to it, this room was filled with the comforting notes of lavender and cedar wood, enveloping Harry in a soothing atmosphere. Behind the couch were three rectangle windows facing the backyard, Harry smiled at the way the natural light filled the space.
Across from the couch lay a tall mahogany chest with a few candles decorating the top of it. Harry wondered what it held.
As they walked through the archway of the living room, they met a set of walnut-hued wooden stairs leading up to the second floor. Harry took note of the large front door to his left, which had a circular window just above it, allowing the soft afternoon light to illuminate the long staircase. He then glanced to his right, peering down the spacious hallway leading to the kitchen.
Snape's firm, measured footsteps echoed in the space, prompting Harry to follow.
Though the house was accented in dark brown and green hues, Harry noted the warmth it provided. Contrary to the cold and foreboding halls of the dungeon, this home felt inviting and comfortable, a stark contrast to what Harry had half-expected Snape's residence to be.
As they reached the top of the staircase, Harry glanced around at the open space of the second floor.
"Wow... this is fantastic," Harry marveled aloud, his tone filled with genuine amazement.
He took in the wide array of ancient books encased in a grand half-circle shelf system expanding across the back wall of the open floor plan.
"Yes, well," Snape paused, uncertain about his next words, "it has been satisfactory thus far." He finished as he too glanced around the library of sorts in the open space. Unbeknownst to Harry, he had purchased the home just three weeks prior, and hadn't had the time to settle in himself yet.
The room exuded an air of scholarly elegance, with shelves adorned in the leather-bound tomes and the gentle scent of aged parchment in the air
"Down the hall there," Snape pointed to his right, "is where my room is located."
Harry nodded, his gaze shifting toward the closed oak door leading into Snape's room. In the hallway, he noticed some moving paintings, figures shifting about the frames and casting curious glances in his direction.
"My study is through those doors," Snape motioned to a set of frosted glass French doors, directly in front of them, leading to the hidden room.
Though Harry couldn't make out the exact details behind the white-covered glass, he could discern the form of a large desk and a tall candle holder, reminiscent of Snape's arrangement in his Hogwarts lair.
"These stairs will lead us up to your room," Snape finished as he moved to open the oak door on their left. The sound of its hinges creaked quietly as the door slid out easily.
"After you," Snape directed, as he motioned for Harry to walk ahead.
Harry cast him a small, nervous smile, taking a deep breath as he strode up the echoing steps to the loft above. His emotions were a jumbled mix of excitement and unease, a whirlwind of anticipation and trepidation. Though they had both agreed to this arrangement, sharing such a home was bound to have its strains.
As Snape followed close behind, his thoughts remained his own, leaving Harry to grapple with the silent expectations and possibilities of what lay ahead.
Reaching the top of the staircase, Harry's eyes doubled in size as he took in the bedroom before him. He set his bags and broom down as he stepped a few more paces inside.
It was exceptionally spacious, to his left lay a large, luxuriously made bed, fitted neatly with a cobalt blue comforter tucked against the corner wall. The large window on the center wall, to the left of the bed, drew Harry's immediate focus as he wandered over to peer outside. The window offered a picturesque view of the beautiful courtyard located at the front of the home. The layout was breathtaking, the green grass bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, a serene oasis that seemed to belong to another world.
On the opposite back wall of the room, an aptly sized wooden desk stood, prepared specifically for Harry. A new quill and parchment paper were neatly arranged on its surface, ready to be used for studies or any personal musings he wished to jot down. The desk itself bore the same dark, polished wood as the furniture in the living room, adding a sense of cohesion to the space.
Finally, a fireplace that matched the one in the living room graced the adjacent wall. Its mantle was adorned with a few tasteful decorations, adding a touch of elegance to the room. As Harry moved closer, he could feel the faint warmth still lingering in the hearth, a testament to the care taken to ensure his comfort in this new, unexpected home.
As Harry explored the room, Snape found himself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The decision to share his home had initially stirred intense nervousness, marking a significant departure from his solitary lifestyle and a reminder of the past. He couldn't escape the knowledge that Harry's presence would inevitably draw him closer to the memory of Lily's death.
However, as he observed Harry's face lighting up while taking in the room, Snape experienced an unexpected and peculiar sense of peace. It was a sentiment he hadn't anticipated, a tiny spark of connection between them amidst the shadowy remnants of the past.
Snape's fingers, which had been subtly interlaced, relaxed and found themselves gently resting at his sides. He stood by the doorway, his shoulders easing slightly as he observed Harry's expressions. There was a subtle softening in his features, an almost imperceptible relaxation in his posture. His dark eyes, usually so guarded, revealed a glint of satisfaction. He had gone to great lengths to ensure that this room was welcoming for Harry, and seeing the young wizard's genuine appreciation for the space filled Snape with an unexpected sense of contentment.
It was a moment that felt strangely at odds with Snape's stoic demeanor, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection between them and the uncharted territory they were venturing into.
"This is great, Professor Snape," Harry forced himself to keep the quiver of emotions out of his words, "I've never had a room like this before."
Snape, letting his guard down, gave Harry a warm and genuine smile. "I'm glad you find the layout satisfactory."
Harry felt a swell of shock and amusement rise up in his chest at seeing Snape smile, it was the first time he'd ever experienced such a gesture from the hard-pressed potions professor– he almost was unsure of how to handle it.
Harry let out a chuckle as he reached up to massage the back of his neck, "More than satisfactory. Well I mean, I might miss the cramped quarters under Vernon's staircase, but I can live with this set up."
As quickly as the smile had appeared across the worn lines of Snape's aging skin, it faded just as swiftly when he furrowed his brows. "I beg your pardon, Potter— under the stairs?"
Harry glanced at the floor, suddenly regretting his stellar choice of inopportune humor. "Ah, well…" he thought about lying, but there was a lingering fear that Snape just might find out; and that would be a painful lesson to pay. Harry squared his shoulders a bit, "Yeah, they would throw me under there to sleep and stay a lot of times."
Snape drew in a deep, sharp breath. "I'd like to revisit this at another juncture." He responded firmly, as he turned on his heel to exit.
"I will let you settle in, join me in the living room when you're rested and ready to discuss the rules of the house." Snape responded over his shoulder as his footsteps faded down the wooden staircase.
Harry sighed and shook his head, walking over to peer back out the window. Why did he always seem to put his foot in his mouth?
As Harry gazed out into the courtyard, he couldn't help but wonder about Snape's immediate shift in demeanor. The enigmatic promise of 'revisiting' his past raised did not sound exciting, while the upcoming discussion about 'house rules' left him with a slight sense of unease. He shrugged his shoulders and took a deep breath as he moved to recline on his soft bed. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he relaxed into the buttery soft comforter.
He released the tension in his shoulders and closed his eyes. Whatever the evening held, in that moment it felt worth it just to finally have a home.
Author's notes: I had hoped to share this over the weekend, but my studies, work, and life so rudely got in the way. Thank you to everyone who has kept up their participation in the comments section! Even after some of these lengthy autumn days, it motivates me to write. Much love to you all & I'll be back with another chapter later this week.