[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.

Chapter 21: Redemption

Harry squirmed in Snape's firm grip, "Wait! Wait, wait—Professor Snape, hang on!"

Their jumbled footsteps echoed through the entryway of the house as Snape pulled Harry to the kitchen.

"Hang on?" Snape replied too calmly, pulling back a wooden chair and propping his boot on the lower rung.

He slid the strap out of his pocket with ease, causing Harry to gasp.

"But I didn't disobey you!" Harry stepped back from Snape's propped up thigh.

"No?" Snape shot back, clear and sharp. "I disagree."

He pulled Harry back to him.

"Can't we at least talk first? Just for a second?"

Harry didn't realize how close to crying he already was, but Snape could hear it in the crack of his last words.

"Very well." Snape said, though he made no move to release the boy or shift positions. "Give me your inexcusable excuse first, make it quick."

"Uh," Harry sucked in a sharp breath and glanced down at the menacing strap clutched in Snape's hand. "I was only teasing you at the table… I didn't think of it as disobeying, I just wanted to, erm, press a little."

Snape said nothing for a moment, boring down dark daggers into Harry's dropped eyes.

"Honest, sir. I wasn't intending to break a rule or disrespect you… I just thought it was a bit funny."

Ah blimey, Harry felt himself flush.

"Funny? This form of punishment is a laughing matter to you?" Snape's voice was eerily calm, shooting a little shiver up Harry's spine.

"No, no," Harry back-peddled, "I just like figuring things out is all… and, er, I guess I wanted you to know."

Snape hummed low and leveled Harry with a look he could only interpret as cold disappointment.

"You wanted me to know so you could flaunt your insufferable insolence." Snape's dark eyes narrowed and his jaw set, "I told you to keep out of the Malfoy's affairs, more than once, and you willingly disregarded my instructions. I believe you were explicitly warned of the consequences you could expect for such a transgression, just this morning, were you not?"

Harry swallowed hard, realizing there was no easy way out of this.

"I-I… well, yes, but sir, please don't. I did my best today with the punishment you gave me this morning. I cleaned everything. Ron popped over, unexpected, but I made him wait while I finished the essays, I put a lot of thought into them too."

The coldness in Snape's eyes seemed to melt, just the smallest bit. This was challenging for him. He'd walked home emotionally fatigued after whipping Draco, spoken to Lily for the first time in a decade, promised himself he'd be more affectionate with Harry, and now, there he was again—stern, cold, ready to reprimand the young wizard for the fourth time in a week. It was nearly unbearable, even for him.

"Er, Professor Snape, I swear I tried my best to be… good, while you were out. I'm just me, you know? I only wanted Ron to spill the details. I can be a bit cheeky, like I was at the table, but I promise, I'll try to be more... um, behaved in the future."

Harry caught a flicker of something in Snape's eyes, he hoped it was mercy but was quickly disappointed.

"Yes, I will see to it that you are." Snape motioned Harry forward. "Bend over. Now."

With tears already welling up in his eyes, Harry moaned and begrudgingly complied. He wanted to protest more, but his conversation with Snape about obedience that morning rang through his miserable head.

What was he thinking at the table? Of course Snape saw his push for more information as disobedient. If the man had told their potions class to be quiet and someone accidentally sneezed they'd be getting a detention for bloody 'disobedience'.

A small part of him felt relieved though that he wasn't told to take his trousers off yet. He wasn't sure what to make of it but appreciated the moment of respite nonetheless.

Harry's hips settled naturally over Snape's propped up thigh. He shimmied forward a little and grabbed on tightly to the backrest of the chair in front of him. Snape's elevated leg felt so sturdy beneath him, making Harry suck in a sharp breath.

Harry knit his brows as he waited for the spanking to start. He wasn't sure about this one. Snape didn't go over the rules, didn't take his glasses off, didn't tell him to pull his trousers down… he found that odd.

Despite his hitched breath and trepidation, Harry felt more so confused by the whole process than scared of it. Maybe the strap was so bad you had to keep your trousers on for it? Harry shuttered at the thought.

Snape looked down at Harry's trouser clad backside and pursed his lips together. He hesitated for a moment.

Despite the insolent pushing at the table and the backyard duel, Harry had effectively completed his punishments. The assigned essays were meant to be three feet, but Harry had voluntarily extended them to four. A strapping was far too excessive for the minor offense.

Snape pinched his eyes shut and shook his head. Perhaps a streak of James Potter was still alive and well in the boy, taunting him from the grave, pushing him past his limits. Despite his earlier attempts to maintain some leniency, Harry still managed to wade on to the thin ice of his patience, crashing through it with ease. Though not incredibly egregious, the foolish teenager had deliberately disobeyed him too soon after their morning conversation about its seriousness, and Snape couldn't overlook that.

Harry needed follow through, not empty promises, from authority figures. Over the years, Snape had witnessed the young wizard consistently push boundaries beyond acceptable limits, especially with those who tolerated it. Now that the war had concluded, he had no intention of affording the boy the same leniency.

Harry had one hand on his glasses, the other on the back of the chair. Snape could feel him taking in sharper breaths, fidgeting.

Pushing his warm hand down firmly into Harry's back with fast resolve, Snape pulled back the strap up and brought it down in a hard, forceful crack.

Harry's response, much like Draco's, was instant.

He gasped and pushed his hips down hard, his feet kicked up in a short fast motion at the sudden lash of fire spreading across the center of his bum.

"Ah! Ow! Bloody—blimey, uhh..." Harry groaned as he screwed his eyes shut, teeth clenched against the vivid pain.

He was so fucked.

Unwelcome, hot tears instantly flooded the back of his green eyes as he squeezed the backrest of the wooden chair.

Harry could take pain; for years, he had borne the physical and emotional scars of war with unwavering resilience. Yet, in moments such as these, a different vulnerability came over him. It wasn't solely the horrible sting on his skin that brought forth tears; it was the way Snape somehow connected discipline with a firm form of care. In the last week, each time he was pulled over Snape's knee he experienced a profound sense of comfort interwoven with the pain. It was a relief to have someone finally care enough to expect the best of him and take nothing less.

Snape held him tight for a moment, keeping him pinned down against his thigh. Even over Harry's trousers, the dreaded strap was far, far worse than the bloody brush and paddle. It hurt so bad.

Harry attempted to breathe through the surge of emotion in his chest. Hating the hot sensation radiating from the center of his bum, where the leather had lashed into his skin. While also feeling horrible for thinking it was a good idea to test Snape. He wasn't even sure why he had.

Harry was more than ready to protest, but was left surprised by what happened next.

To his utter astonishment, another horribly searing smack failed to fall. Instead, he felt Snape shift and release the pressure on his lower back. For a drawn out moment, Snape softly rubbed up and down his spine, soothing him through the pulsating pain.

"You may get up now," Snape said calmly after another minute of comfort, helping Harry to stand upright again.

As Harry stood to face Snape, his pained green eyes met him with confusion and a little relief.

Harry's face was crimson with shame, his breath was spilling out in little hitches, he was already crying, and a thick line of pain stung horribly on the middle of his bottom.

He hugged his arms around his thin frame and sucked in a few sharp breaths, forcing himself not to reach back and rub at the ache. He wondered if Snape was about to make him pull his pants down for the rest of it.

His glistening emerald eyes watched as Snape slowly pushed the dining room chair back to its rightful place and set the strap down carefully on the table.

After a small moment of hesitation, Snape turned and leaned down to him. With his potion stained thumbs, he carefully wiped a few of the stray tears off Harry's crimson face.

"I won't tolerate disobedience from you, Harry, even if it seems minimal." Snape said, quietly wiping away tears. "Push back against my authority is not allowed in my classroom, and certainly not in my home. If you care to avoid the pain of the strap on your bare backside next time, you would do well to remember that."

Harry's heart thumped, a confusing concoction of surprise and bewilderment at the unexpected soft touch coupled with a dreadful flush of embarrassment over the words 'bare backside' on Snape's lips. Harry drew in a shaky little breath, the gentle sensation of Snape's calloused thumbs, still wiping away his tears, left him grappling with emotions he hadn't expected. His gaze lingered on Snape's firm yet kind expression.

"O-okay, er, sorry, yes. I mean, yes, sir." Harry replied softly, flushing deeply as he held Snape's gaze. "I won't disobey you again. I understand… I'm sorry."

"Very well." Snape said calmly, bringing his warm hands to rest down on Harry's shoulders."Now, you will take your essays into the living room and we will finish this evening with a discussion on their content."

Staring for a moment longer into Snape's soft expression, Harry felt his nerves die down. Relief washed over him in a calm reassuring wave regardless of the ache in his bum.

Harry forced out an, "O-okay, sir. Thank you."

His pained eyes trailed for a minute longer on Snape.

Soon he was taking the handed over essays from Snape's outstretched palm. Harry forced his breathing to slow, glancing one more time up at Snape to see if this was some sort of fake out.

"Go to the living room." Snape said, giving him a gentle little push then turning back into the kitchen to collect the tea kettle. "I will meet you there shortly."

Harry turned slowly, looking down at the essays, trying to steady the little tremor in his hands.

Something about Snape's unexpected softness and the gentle brushing away of his tears, made him want to weep. He had never felt such warmth in Snape's dark eyes. Snape had never looked at him with such a… soft sort of expression. Harry controlled the onslaught of emotions it prompted, letting his gaze fall on the dwindling fire in the hearth.

He set the essays down next to Snape's armchair and pulled his hands back to rub at the line of fire still pulsing on his backside.

What had just happened?


The living room held a tender hush, broken only by the little crackles of dwindling pine in the warm fireplace.

Harry glanced back to Snape again, watching him with a mixture of slight trepidation. He shifted a little on his seat, the strap mark still stinging some despite how long it'd been since he received it.

With his hands folded tightly in his lap, Harry ran his thumb over the back of his knuckle and waited. Snape was reading the last line of his essay on disobedience. Harry noticed the way his dark shimmering eyes in the firelight paused and trailed back to the start of the last sentence for a second time.

Snape glanced to the top of the essay, then back down again, and folded it with careful precision.

"Well, despite your grammatical errors," he started, making Harry hold his nervous breath, "these essays possessed the reflective depth I expected of you. Well done."

Harry let out a little sigh of relief.

"Tell me though," Snape said, setting the essay down carefully on the tea cart and reaching for his cup. "Are you certain you meant it?"

The fire crackled a little and Harry shifted in his chair, looking intently at Snape.

"Of course, sir. I meant every word." Harry's response was quiet, subdued, but sincere.

Snape knit his brows, leveling Harry with a look of disbelief.

"Every word? I find it hard to believe that if the current arrangement we find ourselves in today had been available to you during your time at Hogwarts, you would have willingly embraced it."

Harry sucked in a little breath.

"I think I would have, sir." He said quietly, watching Snape take a sip of tea.

"I think if I had you… um, well, had discipline like this, I could've done better. Went through less… trouble." Harry added.

Snape gave a slow, calculated nod.

"I believe you would have found the idea of structure at my hands appalling a few years back. I must admit, I was taken by surprise when you accepted the offer this week."

Harry blushed a bit and looked down at his fidgeting hands.

"Well," he paused, "I didn't know what exactly I was… missing… at school. Things were awfully different between us back then but they changed for me when I saw, um, everything."

Humming low Snape glanced first at the soft flames of the fire, then back to Harry.

"You are quite correct, things were incredibly different. Which brings me to another point of our conversation for this evening, I would like to formally apologize to you."

Harry snapped his head up, his lips parting open slightly, prompting Snape to sigh and set his tea cup down.

"You deserved far better treatment from me, from the first day you set foot in my classroom to the last, and everything in between. However, I was too caught up in my own hatred and regret to handle you properly," he said quietly, interlacing his fingers and resting his forearms on the sides of the armchair. "For that, you have my sincerest apology."

Harry swallowed hard and blinked a few times, trying his best not to let the new round of warm tears fall. He broke away from Snape's rarely kind gaze and stared into the fireplace.

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice shaky, "I understand, Professor Snape. It- it's alright."

Snape shook his head and tapped his potion stained fingers on the Russian green armchair.

"No, it most certainly is not."

Harry sucked in a little breath, he hurriedly moved his glasses up and wiped away a few tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes.

"We didn't get on, but you risked your life for me. I know you loved my mum, too." Harry said, mentally cursing himself for crying again.

Snape's tone came out impeccably soft, making Harry's chest swell with such raw emotion at his next words.

"Indeed. I always will. She was the best sort of person, your mother." Snape let a long moment of smoke tinged silence settle around them. Noting the way Harry's green eyes were glistening in the firelight.

He leveled Harry with a sincere gaze,"I've certainly grown to care a great deal for you as well, Harry. You possess the finest qualities that shone so brightly in her. You may bear the name Potter, but you possess the kindness of an Evans."

A swell of affection and warmth overwhelmed Harry's senses as he coped with Snape's unexpected words. It was as if a soft summer breeze had slid its warm arms around him, comforting him from every care in the world.

"S-sorry," Harry said a second later as more tears spilled over, "I, I don't know why I'm crying."

Snape glanced away for a moment, considering if he should try to offer some physical affection but not knowing what exactly to do. He felt his own pain clenching around his chest at the mention of Lily, he hadn't admitted his love for her so outrightly to anyone since she passed.

"This is an emotionally charged conversation, it's perfectly understandable to cry," Snape finally said, keeping the swell of heartbreak he felt subdued.

Harry surprised him by letting out a little tear laced chuckle as he pulled his glasses off to wipe his eyes. He wanted to tell Snape he cared about him too, more than he could've imagined he would. He also wanted to ask what he meant, ask him what qualities his mum had that he did too, but for whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it yet.

"You're so formal, you know. Even though we're not in school." Harry sucked in a stabilizing breath, "have you always talked like this?"

Snape, relieved to see Harry regaining composure, considered the question carefully. He hummed low and surveyed the boy.

"I'm not sure," Snape soon replied, "perhaps my approach to conversations shifted when I began teaching."

Harry nodded, taking in another breath, trying not to feel so emotional.

Snape pulled his teacup to his lips and took a sip.

"Speaking on formalities," he said, "I've decided it is acceptable for you to address me by simply my last name, precluding the title of Professor for the remainder of the summer as we are not in a school setting. When we return at the start of term you will reinstitute a more formal address, as will I for you. I implore you to stay respectful with this change, mind the situation you find yourself in and respond to me accordingly."

Harry gave a warm smile, "I will, thanks…I like it when you call me Harry, or Potter is fine too. Basically feels like a first name now."

"I will endeavor to use your first name more often then." Snape said, taking another sip of tea.

Harry nodded, and let out a cleansing breath. He had regained his composure and refocused his feelings on the summer rather than the rollercoaster of emotions threatening to engulf him from words he never thought he'd hear from Snape.

A new warmth settled between the two of them as they indulged in the smoke soaked silence of the living room. While the bright orange flames climbed high in the hearth, years of pain and anger between them seemed to burn into nothing.

After a moment more, Snape set his teacup down resulting in a little clink and turned back to Harry.

"Now," he said slowly, "on the note of trying our best, we must discuss a few things."

Harry set his teacup down too and looked up.

"You must understand the difference in our demeanors. I for one, am reserved, in every sense of the word. You, most certainly are not."

A little dance of glee sparkled in Harry's eyes. "I can be," he challenged.

"You can," Snape quipped back, "though your penchant for cheekiness at inopportune times proves troublesome. Tonight, for example, you nearly earned yourself a much longer introduction to the strap for your insolence."

The small sound of Harry letting out a breath filled the distance between them.

"I know, I'm sorry about that." Harry said quietly, dropping his eyes from Snape. "Um, thanks for not lighting into me."

"Yes, well, if you care to avoid uncomfortable consequences you must learn to restrain your emotions and tailor your reactions to the circumstances you find yourself in while we are living with one another." Snape said, adopting his stern tone.

"I will," Harry responded quickly, suddenly more inclined to appease him.

"Your essay on impulse control should prove helpful for the circumstance we faced this evening," Snape picked up the essay, and tapped it with his index finger. "You identified one facet for your inability to control your curiosity as a need for information that may directly impact you, yes?"

Harry nodded, "Yes..."

"I fail to see how Draco's presumed discipline impacted you to the extent of risking your own backside." Snape raised an eyebrow up, making Harry flush red. "Explain yourself."

Harry squirmed a little, not sure how to really justify his curiosity over this one.

"Um," Harry paused to consider his approach. "Well, I guess I was a bit… satisfied to know, er—to think, Draco gets in trouble too. I never picked him to face consequences with you or anyone else. I got unreasonably curious, I guess."

"Yes, 'unreasonably' is an appropriate word choice." Snape drawled out, pausing to sip his tea. "This desire to find out my involvement with Narcissa stem from your disdain over Draco, not self preservation?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, running his fingertip over the rim of his teacup.

"Partially both, I suppose." He finally said.

Snape motioned for Harry to continue.

"Well, I had a feeling whatever she came for had to do with Draco or Lucius. At first though, I was just nervous that you would get close with them again."

Snape nodded. "So due to your apprehension, you deemed that private information to be applicable to you?"

"Yes, sir." Harry said quietly.

Snape hummed low, it didn't sound approving.

"Then you did not trust me this morning when I assured you that my involvement with the Malfoy family did not put you at risk."

"Well, no I did…" Harry paused, "I don't know. I tried to let it go, but then I spilt the water and found out the strap was gone."

Snape steepled his fingers and glanced up for a moment up to the ceiling. After making Harry change and prepare for the day, he hadn't expected him to bury through his top drawer. Despite Harry's obviously clear deductions, he tried to navigate his response to maintain Draco's privacy.

Harry glanced around the room and swallowed the bit of lingering anxiety over the conversation.

"After that, it became more about what was happening to Draco and less about how it could affect me." Harry added, swirling his empty tea cup.

The pensive pause stretched on for a bit more as Harry waited for Snape to respond.

"Very well. Let's try this," Snape soon said, leaning closer to Harry. "Suppose you could change your previous response to me at the dining table, what would have been the most appropriate way to approach the matter?"

Harry sat up too, mirroring Snape's posture.

"Well, I could—"

Snape held his hand up.

"Don't speculate. Articulate it again, as if it were your first time bringing up this predicament. Speak to me as you should have, in an appropriate way."

Flushing a bit, Harry glanced away from Snape's intense gaze and tried to prepare something to say.

"Um," Harry shifted a little and rubbed the side of the armchair with his thumb. "So, uh… when you were gone I splashed water everywhere, on myself and the floor, and I had to go change."

Snape gave a small nod of approval and Harry sat up a bit straighter.

"I saw you took the strap from my drawer, at least I assumed it was you, and I want to know why."

"No, that is not the correct way to approach the conversation," Snape said, eliciting a frown from Harry. "Try again."

"What was wrong with that?" Harry asked, his tone shifting just slightly higher.

"It was presumptuous. You approached the situation like I owed you information, which is disrespectful."

Harry huffed ever so slightly and glanced at the carpet, trying to think of a different way to put it.

"Okay," Harry said, his green eyes darting across the floor as he thought.

He looked back up, "Professor Snape? Or, wait, just Snape."

Snape almost smiled, "Yes, Harry?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You mean, 'may I ask you a question,' and yes, you may."

Snape watched Harry hold back the cheek he wanted to give with a hint of satisfaction.

"Okay, well, I went to change this afternoon and noticed the strap you told me to keep in my top drawer was gone," Harry swallowed and glanced away for a minute. "I know it's your property, and you have a right to take it, but I was wondering, if you'd please let me know why you needed it today."

Snape gave a short nod, and a very small smile.

"Better. You shifted your approach from an ask that demanded an answer to a respectful question. That is how you should've approached this situation after Mr. Weasley left."

"Alright then." Harry grinned. "But come on, we're still in the scene, you know. You can't break character until you answer my very kind and respectful question."

Snape rolled his eyes but actually considered a response. "No, I will not be informing you of my need for it. Busy yourself with matters pertaining to your own day."

Harry let out a disgruntled little breath. "That's what you'd say?"

"Indeed." Snape said, folding his hands and leveling Harry with a firm look.

"Blimey," Harry said leaning back in his chair, "sitting on information like this just really eats me up."

"You need to get used to it," Snape snipped, standing to retrieve the tea kettle. "As I mentioned this morning, you will adjust to staying out of private matters. Even if that means I need to give you some uncomfortable encouragement to help you do so."

Harry cringed but stayed quiet for a minute. After a beat of silence he asked, "If it were Draco wanting to know, would you tell him about me?"

A small part of Harry didn't believe for a second that Snape would protect his privacy the way he did for his favorite snob Draco Malfoy.

Snape remained quiet as he poured out a stream of steaming purple tea. The warm liquid hitting the glass cup filled the air with a soft trickling sound. Without asking, he refilled Harry's cup as well.

"As a matter of fact, Draco did inquire about our living situation." Snape said, setting down the kettle.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, bloody hell.

"Did you tell him everything?" Harry's tone was so dejected as he anticipated the response.

"Certainly not. I told him my living arrangement with you was none of his business." Snape said after a long pause.

Snape was mildly amused to see Harry's bright green eyes light up.

"Really?"

"Yes, Harry. I did not confirm with Draco that you are subjected to physical discipline. That is incredibly private information. It is up to you to decide who, if anyone, you care to share it with."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a swell of affection at Snape's loyalty. "Thanks, Snape."

"The Malfoy manor is not far from here," Snape soon noted, then sipped his warm tea. "Perhaps if you are so curious as to the discipline Draco has received in Slytherin over the years, you should venture over and ask."

Harry let out a little snort and picked up his cup of tea, "Yeah, I'll do that and he'll knock me on my arse."

"That is preposterous." Snape shot back, though for a moment he considered the possibility given the immaturity of both boys. "Honestly, it is high time the two of you set aside your differences now that you have the luxury."

Harry gave a little frown and took another sip of his tea, he glanced around the cart for some sugar cubes.

"Yeah, well, I saved his life and didn't even get a 'thanks, Pottah,'" Harry said quickly in his best snotty Draco impression. "Not sure how much more of an olive branch I can extend there."

Snape let out a little scoff, "I was unaware that you had seen him after the battle."

Harry shifted, and took a sip of his tea. "I haven't…"

"Perhaps that is why you have yet to receive proper thanks." Snape's brows raised just a touch.

"Well… perhaps," Harry admitted, of course Snape was defending Draco. "Or, more likely, it is because he felt entitled to be saved. He'd rather have died than thank me for saving him from dying."

Snape gave Harry a very faint smile, making him feel oddly comforted.

"You will find in the coming year that people do change, Harry." Snape said, short and quick, then stood to retrieve a book from the coffee table.

Harry thought about that for a moment. Certainly Snape had changed… more than he could have ever anticipated. But, Draco Malfoy? No. Highly, highly, unlikely.

Stretching in his chair, Harry let the warmth of the fireplace wrap its comforting arms around him. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling safe and relaxed. He cherished the feeling after the years of unease and torment.

"This goes without saying," Snape said quietly, taking a seat back in the armchair. "No duels in the neighborhood going forward. Cordial or not, that is inappropriate behavior at your age. Many wizards and witches have families in the area; I'm more than certain their children don't need a light show for bedtime entertainment."

Harry cracked an eye open and gave a little smile before closing it again. "Right, sorry about that, sir."

Every so often a soft flick of a page filled the hushed living room as Snape's dark eyes scanned the worn parchment pages of his book on potion explosions and brewing incidents.

The crackling of the fire and scent of comforting lavender made Harry feel rather sleepy. He had nearly dozed off when a sudden rustling in the center of the living room drew his groggy attention.

Breaking through the soft hush of the evening, a fluffy brown owl popped into view to the left of them, hustling its feathers. Startled, Harry opened his eyes more and sat up straighter in the armchair.

Snape's dark gaze wandered up from his book, his lips in a tight frown. He sighed and motioned for the bird to hand him the little scroll of parchment paper held tightly in its sharp talons. The creature obliged, hobbling over slowly, then turned its sinister burnt orange eyes on Harry.

By the time Harry recognized the brown plumage of feathers and razor sharp talons, Snape looked up to interrupt his racing thoughts.

"Well," Snape said, shewing the owl out of the house with a quick snap of his fingers. "It appears you will soon have an opportunity to receive that so deeply desired apology from Mr. Malfoy."

Harry eyed Snape cautiously, dropping his brows into a tight furrow. Snape rolled up the little note the owl had brought from Draco and tossed it into the fire.

"You can expect him here by noon tomorrow." Snape said, returning his gaze to his book.

"Ah, blimey— P- er, Snape, can't you tell him no? Tell him we're too busy? Here, I can get the owl to come back."

Harry stood but Snape stopped him in his tracks, motioning for him to sit back in the armchair.

Harry obeyed but grimaced at the thought of facing Draco, a sense of dread settling over him at the idea of having to host his least favorite peer so soon after the war. The nerve Draco had, asking Snape for details about their living arrangement, irked him to no end. He was certain that's why Draco suddenly wanted to come over. That had to be it, he reasoned. Draco wanted to know if he was getting smacked! What a prick.

Contrary to whatever Snape believed about change, there was no way Draco Malfoy was sauntering over to bridge the gap between them with an apology. What a load of utter rubbish.

"No, we will not be busy," Snape finally responded, flipping another page in his book.

Harry let out an audible groan, directing his gaze back to the flickering flames. His arms crossed over his lean chest as he pondered his options. After a few moments of vivid contemplation, the tension in Harry's expression eased, replaced by a faint smirk of realization.

Draco had nothing on him. But, he had something on Draco.


Author's notes: Happy Sunday, Fanfiction Fellows! I hope you enjoyed these last few chapters- they were a delight to write. Hamlet, your review last week had me laughing by the end of it! Harry does need and IQ Test at this point. Also, the 'lick Snape's boots' comment was too funny! I thoroughly enjoy your wonderful thoughts and kind words. Thank you as always! Fantasystar78, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story, thank you for taking the time to comment! You're right- Harry is definitely not there yet maturity wise and a fair bit of trouble is on the way. MusicMelis, happy late birthday! I was delighted to read the last chapter was a bit of a present for you. That is so touching! I'm so glad you look forward to these updates :) and Goldflame01, I'm so happy to know you enjoyed the banter between Harry & Snape (it's always so fun to write!). Harry does have a bit of a martyr complex when it comes to sacrificing his own skin for his friends. In the coming chapters we'll see how Snape works him through it. Much love to you all and to each and everyone of you silent readers out there, I'm thankful for you! I hope to be able to post next week but with Christmas around the corner it may be challenging. Have a safe, warm, and happy week!