[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 2: A Stroll in the Garden
As they walked in silence, making their way toward one of the distant gardens, thoughts swirled through Harry's mind like a tornado tearing through the western plains. Living with Snape? Professor McGonagall had to be joking! Anxiety soon flooded his chest, making his heart pound and palms sweat as he began to reflect on Snape's involvement with Voldemort. What if he snapped over the summer due to the post-war pressure? What if living together worsened Snape's hatred for him? How could—
"Stop, Potter!" Harry was abruptly brought back to the present as Snape's vice-like grip clamped down on his bicep. With a forceful tug, he was pulled to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with a shattered fence post which once marked the nearing entrance to the garden.
"Oh, ah, thanks," Harry said nervously as he cast Snape a small smile and straightened his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
"Lost in thought, are we?" Snape asked, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation and something else Harry couldn't quite place.
"Um, yeah, I guess," Harry shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and taking a few tentative steps forward. He was eager to keep moving and not particularly keen on starting their conversation yet.
The pair arrived shortly, and were enveloped by a symphony of vibrant colors and sweet scents as they entered the garden. Surprisingly, it had remained an oasis of serenity largely untouched by the previous war that had ravaged the rest of Hogwarts. Its enchanting beauty had endured, a testament to nature's resilience amidst chaos.
Harry inhaled deeply, stabilizing himself as he glanced down at the mosaic cobblestone beneath his feet. He leisurely allowed his gaze to follow the tranquil path as it wound gracefully through the lush, green landscape.
A bed of Flutterby Bushes shimmered in the evening's fading light, their soft blue and pink petals emitted a melodic hum that soothed Harry to his core. A wave of nostalgia washed through him as he remembered the few times he had spent laughing in the garden with Ron and Hermione.
Snape watched in silence as Harry visibly relaxed. He, too, took note of the garden's beauty but sighed characteristically at the overgrown vines, unplucked weeds, and small pests grazing on the fruiting plants. His gaze roamed the garden beds, eventually returning to the young and fatigued boy by his side.
Snape mentally prepared himself for the barrage of questions he suspected Harry would present. He moved slowly toward one of the nearby garden beds, his rich black robes flowed softly behind him in the breeze, catching Harry's attention.
Bending down, Snape plucked a prickling weed from the base of a withering flower. He ignored the sharp, needling stings radiating through his potion-stained fingertips as he uprooted it. Turning, he tossed the weed into a silver pail positioned on the side of the bed.
He moved to face Harry, who quickly averted eye contact, embarrassed to have been caught watching.
"Alright, Potter," Snape began, "We better get to the stipulations of this arrangement," he motioned for Harry to join him on a nearby wooden bench as he took a seat himself.
Harry hesitated, feeling unsure and suddenly awkward about sitting so closely beside his former potions master.
Snape arched an eyebrow and suppressed a smirk that threatened to break through his stern demeanor. "Come Potter, you should know by now that I do not bite, regardless of what idle chatter may circulate among your snickering classmates."
A nervous laugh escaped Harry, and he moved slowly towards the indicated spot. "You know, his whole thing feels a bit weird to me," he admitted, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he took a tentative, somewhat distant seat away from Snape. "First, I thought you hated my family and everything about me. Then come to find out, um, well, you didn't actually want me to die this whole time."
Snape couldn't suppress a faintly wry smile at Harry's statement. Nevertheless, he nodded in encouragement, his long fingers neatly folded across his black-clad lap. His stern, deeply penetrating gaze remained fixed on the young wizard, silently urging him to proceed.
Harry licked his dry lips and swallowed, "I just, well, I guess I don't feel convinced that you actually want me to live with you."
Snape raised his brows at the stark honesty, "I—"
"Did Professor McGonagall force you into this?" Harry quickly interrupted, his words rushing out.
"First off, Mr. Potter," Snape began in his usual authoritative tone, a hint of exasperation underlying his words, "Do not forget yourself. In my presence or in the company of others, it is considered not only inappropriate but also exceedingly rude to interrupt someone while they are speaking, especially if they are not your peer."
Harry felt a bit of heat creep into his face but nodded at the correction. "Right, sorry."
"I'm sorry, sir, would be more appropriate." Snape retorted, his tone retaining its characteristic sternness, yet now with a subtle softness that hadn't been present in their previous interactions, leaving Harry to wonder if Snape had changed somewhat now that his life as a double agent was over.
"I'm sorry, sir," Harry replied, his embarrassment tinged with a hint of frustration due to the apparent patronization.
Had Snape forgotten that he'd killed the Dark Lord, for Merlin's sake? Why was he still being forced to mind his manners like a school boy?
Snape adjusted his trousers, sitting up straighter as he cleared his throat. "I understand that our relationship to one another has not always been in the best... standing, if you will." There was a subtle shift in his demeanor, a touch of vulnerability beneath his stern exterior as he continued.
"Nevertheless, I want you to know that I am more than capable and willing to offer you the guidance and structure you need, should you be open to accepting it." His gaze remained fixed on Harry, revealing a hint of sincerity that hadn't always been present in their interactions.
Snape observed a subtle interplay of emotions traversing the contours of the young man's face. He discerned not only curiosity but also a faint undercurrent of trepidation. Though a question lingered in Snape's mind—should he broach the subject of discipline today? Perhaps it would prove wiser to await a more opportune moment, once Harry had become more acclimated to the idea.
"Okay," Harry started in, "but why are you doing this?"
And so it begins, the barrage of questions. Snape rubbed his temple, a slight ache forming, and cleared his throat. "Harry, there are those here who genuinely care about your well-being. I…" He hesitated, struggling to convey the depth of his feelings, "I have concerns for your welfare as well. It is regrettable that you were forced to reside with individuals who proved incapable of providing proper care for you."
Harry felt a surge of emotion welling up within him, causing his chest to tighten, he averted his gaze. Memories of Snape's sacrifice surged to the forefront of his mind, flooding him with a profound mixture of gratitude and remorse.
Understanding the discomfort, Snape also averted his gaze as he looked past the boy to the layout of the garden. "While we do recognize your status as a young adult with legal independence, Potter" he continued, his tone adopting a more pragmatic edge, "our concern lies in the potential negative consequences of solitude without the requisite structure and guidance."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, turning back to look at him with a mix of emotions still present.
At first, relief had washed over him at the thought of having someone by his side, even if it happened to be Professor Snape. However, a complex barrage of feelings presented themselves. On one hand, he welcomed the idea of guidance and support, especially after the tumultuous events he'd endured. On the other hand, a stubborn sense of pride stirred within him, countering the notion that McGonagall and Snape didn't believe he could manage on his own.
Harry's informality and tone grated on Snape's nerves, but he stifled his inclination to reprimand and pressed forward.
"To put it bluntly, you've endured not only the trauma of the battle but a childhood devoid of nurturing guidance, of which myself and others were oblivious to," Snape swallowed his lingering resentment toward the late Dumbledore. "While it's undeniable that structure and guidance may not always be comfortable, they pave the way for a more functional adulthood."
"As for love," Snape broke eye contact with the boy and looked out to the sun setting in the sky, "well, it's an indispensable component to healing in this life."
Harry nodded, his eyes fixed on Snape as he absorbed every word. He was surprised by the hint of tenderness that he'd seldomly witnessed from the potions professor. Despite the surviving traces of apprehension, an immense wave of peace washed over him in response to Snape's unexpectedly wise counsel.
The garden around them basked in the gentle light of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the vibrant blooms. The air was filled with the soothing fragrance of the blossoms, and in the waning daylight, distant birds serenaded the tranquil scene with their soft, melodious songs.
Harry's gaze met Snape's, and he spoke again with genuine curiosity, "Alright. When you say structure though, what do you mean?"
The sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, dappling the path with shifting shadows as they began another lap around the garden loop. Snape hummed low, as he turned his gaze to the winding garden path ahead. He didn't fight to repress a smirk.
"Yes, well, I suppose I should forewarn you, I don't anticipate that you will find the prospect of structure in my residence particularly appealing, Potter," Snape said, his tone remaining composed. "However, if you do not feel comfortable living with me, Professor McGonagall and I will collaborate to assist you in securing a more suitable living arrangement."
"Thank you," Harry said, offering a sincere smile as he looked up at Snape. His gratitude shone through, adding a genuine warmth that was uncharacteristic of their usual interactions.
"You are most welcome," Snape replied, returning the smile, though it appeared somewhat reserved on his end. The unfamiliar warmth swelling in his chest made him slightly uneasy.
"Now," he began, regaining his emotions, "If you decide you would like to accept my offer, there will be stipulations in place."
"You know, I've lost count of how many times I've heard the word 'stipulations' today. Starting to get a bit repetitive, isn't it?" Harry retorted with a hint of sarcasm.
Snape lowered his gaze at the boy, his expression revealing his displeasure at the quip. The colorful petals of nearby flowers swayed in the breeze as he spoke, "Not that I care for your cheek, Mr. Potter," he subtly reprimanded. "However, it does make a decent segue into the matter."
The fear that had threatened their conversation before now seemed distant. Harry's curiosity began to peak as he continued to follow the potions professor through the winding garden path.
"Let's turn our attention to the terms of our arrangement," Snape calmly initiated, fully anticipating the forthcoming dramatics that often accompanied such discussions of discipline. "Should you choose to display disrespect or willfully flout the regulations of my home, you can expect to face the same unpleasant consequences that I dole out to the Slytherins in my charge."
Harry paused to consider this for a moment. "Okay," he eventually replied, his tone carrying a hint of both skepticism and edge, "so you're saying that I'll be under your watchful eye…for the whole summer?"
The thought stirred up a well of emotions in Harry that ran deeper than the idea of facing discipline like the Slytherins, something he was gravely unfamiliar with.
Snape opened his mouth to reply, but Harry jumped back in, his tone incredulous, "Sounds like living with you is going to be like sitting through your potions class twenty-four seven." There was a clear amount of disdain laced in Harry's words, "That hardly sounds like the summer I had in mind."
Snape hummed deeply, displaying a subtle disapproval of the young wizard's tone."Mr. Potter, if I had intended to subject you to endless Potions lessons, I would have invited you to spend more hours in my classroom, not my home," he retorted, his gaze unwavering.
Harry looked away from the intimidating gaze and kicked a stray pebble from the path, "But, you will want me to follow rules while I'm living with you and there will be punishments if I don't follow them?"
"Indeed." Snape's gaze remained focused on the winding garden path ahead as he spoke, his voice carrying a measured tone. "Living together will require structure and discipline." His steps were purposeful, every word underscored by the serene beauty of the garden.
"As I'm sure you might expect, I will make my expectations unmistakably clear." He turned to Harry, his dark eyes locking onto the young wizard's gaze with intensity. "And, yes, there will be consequences for any willful disobedience." He paused for a moment, allowing the tranquility of the surroundings to emphasize the importance of his words.
Harry's mood shifted, his initial sense of relief fading. Being treated like a child after everything he'd faced didn't sit well with him.
"Right, Professor, because obviously, I'm in desperate need of some 'guidance and support,'" Harry retorted, his tone a mix of exasperation and resignation. "I've stared down Voldemort multiple times, but sure, let's talk about following your rules and enduring your 'discipline' during the one summer I thought might be different. Guess I was wrong."
"Surely, Mr. Potter," Snape replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he made no attempt to hide his frustration. "Defeating the Dark Lord has made you a paragon of maturity and responsibility."
Snape took a deep breath, his patience clearly wearing thin. His tone remained sharp as he responded, "Yet even heroes, it seems, require guidance and support. Mastery in one aspect doesn't necessarily translate to success in all areas. The world beyond the battlefield is an entirely different landscape."
Harry scoffed at that, "Meaning I should be your pet project all summer? Lucky me."
Snape's jaw clenched as he suppressed the urge to physically reprimand the boy on the spot. However, he maintained control and spoke with his typical low, measured tone. "Your defiance is hardly surprising, Mr. Potter. But let me make one thing clear: this arrangement is not about making you my 'pet project.' It's about providing you with structure and guidance for your own benefit, whether you appreciate it or not."
Harry huffed and kicked another stray pebble.
Snape battled the urge to give up and rescind the entire proposal, as Harry's obstinacy and disrespect grated on his patience. Yet, McGonagall's words about Harry's potential deterioration, echoed within him, urging him to hold out.
"Not that I am obliged to provide you with any sales pitch, young man," Snape initiated, a hint of exasperation seeping through his words, "but you shall retain a degree of freedom, under the condition that you adhere to the rules and fulfill your responsibilities."
"Yeah?" Harry perked up, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope amidst the frustration. "What kind of freedom?"
Snape scoffed at the protracted back-and-forth,"You'll, of course, bring along your wand, broom, and whatever personal belongings you have that manage to conjure a smidgen of joy. With the presumption of good behavior, I discern no compelling motive to constrain your access to your trinkets and sundry."
Harry scrunched his face at the verbiage of 'trinkets' and 'sundry'. But, maybe Professor Snape's offer might have some worth to it, he thought. While he was still skeptical and annoyed, he couldn't deny that living with Snape would have some advantages. For one, he'd be able to assist a professor next term, without having to take any exams of study himself. That is, if all went well and Minerva approved of his behavior. He decided to push the conversation towards more practical matters, letting his frustration melt a bit.
"What sort of things would we be doing day to day?" Harry asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
"I hardly feel the need to provide you with an exhilarating itinerary, Potter," Snape said coolly, attempting to cut the conversation a bit shorter as the last lights of the sunset disappeared below the horizon, "This is my home after all, not a Muggle amusement park."
"Well, I need to know what I'm going to be doing in order to make my decision," Harry protested, feeling rather pushy with the unfamiliar absence of Snape's usual biting tone.
Snape led the way out of the garden, his robes swaying with each brisk step. He had hoped for a concise discussion, but this had extended far longer than he had anticipated, and his inner turmoil over the situation was becoming increasingly evident.
He turned to Harry, his stern demeanor unmistakable as he spoke, "I shall send an owl with further instructions in the morning. Ensure you're ready to receive it, Mr. Potter. This conversation has been less productive than I had hoped for."
"'Oh yeah? Well what can I anticipate in those instructions?'" Harry decided to prod further, a hint of mischief in his tone.
"Mr. Potter," Snape stopped abruptly in his tracks, spinning around to face the young wizard. His expression was as stern as ever, a mixture of irritation and coiled rage. However, just as Snape was about to deliver a scolding word, events took an unexpected turn.
Snape's abrupt halt caused the two of them to crash into each other, as Harry had not anticipated the halt. They both stumbled back a step to regain their balance. Harry's glasses were slightly askew, and Snape's robes had a wrinkle or two more than before.
Their unexpected collision left a moment of silence hanging in the air, broken only by the faint sounds of the approaching evening around them. Harry cleared his throat and offered an apologetic half-smile. "Sorry about that, Professor."
For once, Snape appeared utterly speechless, his dark eyes narrowing at Harry with a blend of astonishment and smoldering anger. As Snape's initial fury ebbed away, it was replaced by a weary sigh. He took a moment to adjust his robes, smoothing out the wrinkles. Harry couldn't help but relish a small sense of triumph in having momentarily disrupted Snape's typically unflappable demeanor.
Finally, Snape turned and resumed his brisk walk, muttering something under his breath that Harry couldn't quite make out, but he was fairly certain it wasn't complimentary.
As they continued their stride back toward Hogwarts, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension about the summer ahead. Snape's offer fell far short of ideal, and the idea of sharing living space with his former professor, who imposed rules and discipline even at home, remained a tough proposition. However, in the midst of his reservations, a faint glimmer of hope emerged — a possibility that this arrangement might, against all odds, yield something promising.
Author's notes: If you're here for the spanking scenes, don't worry they are coming soon. There will be more in depth details of Snape's preferred 'methods' of discipline in the following chapter.
Separately, thank you to those of you who have followed, favorited or left a review on this work so far. I hope to make this a longer story, filled with depth/angst and plenty of discipline. So that being said, I genuinely appreciate the time you've taken to read it and follow along for updates.
As many of the author's on here know, the site is down right now so I'm not able to respond to reviews individually or see the number of people who've read each chapter, (ugh cheers to faulty software platforms, right?).
I digress, many thanks again, and more to come soon.