[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 20: Breadcrumbs of Information

A murmur of soft wind penetrated the otherwise quiet evening in Silent Hollow. The cold spring air wrapped its soft fingertips around the freshly sprouted oak leaves, swirling them about in little shakes.

Severus Snape maintained a brisk pace, strolling along the moonlight graced trail in contemplative silence. He had opted for a leisure walk home to clear his mind, hoping to regain some semblance of balance after the emotional chokehold he'd been caught in the last three days.

His thoughts returned to Lily, as they often did now that the war had ended and Harry had taken up a room in his home. Snape oscillated between doubt and resolve, considering the impact his discipline was making on her only son.

Recalling Narcissa's comfort over Draco, Snape found himself wishing he could provide the same warmth for Harry.

After all, the boy had needed to force himself into his chest yesterday, just to receive a hug he should have been offered freely. Snape knew beyond doubt that Lily's tenderness would surely outdo the comfort he could offer the boy in such moments.

The familiar ache of utter brokenness returned to him as he thought of her delicate face, soft features and warm smile.

Snape sighed and shook his head, vowing to find ways to offer more physical comfort to Harry. He hoped deep down Lily knew he'd grown to care for the boy, even though it was often veiled in a slew of strictness and formalities.

In the solitude the night offered, Snape let his rigid composure drop at the memories rekindling from his torrent childhood in Spinner's End. He had never been consoled by his father after a whipping, nor his mother. Try as she might, his father hated physical affection, forbidding her to offer it after a punishment.

At Hogwarts, Dumbledore would offer consoling back pats after the paddle or cane, Slughorn too, but neither had initiated warm embraces. Which Snape accepted, and expected. There was a certain formality to school discipline that hardly invited grand displays of comfort precluding it. He was fine with it, the subtle gestures of comfort were still far more soothing than what he was offered at home.

Snape peered up at the rattling oak leaves, his long black hair whisped about in little flicks as he considered his attempts at consoling Harry yesterday night. Regardless of his initial discomfort, it had felt rather… natural to hold the boy close.

He glanced up at the blanket of stars with a contemplative expression on his face.

Just as he had come to a place of respite from the onslaught of distress that had ravaged him over the last seventy two hours, a vibrant crack of purple illuminated the dark night sky above his home.

In an instant, his pulse quickened, his strong brisk strides slowed in a pensive pause.

A flicker of trepidation crossed his face, though it was quickly replaced by an exhausted scowl. Closely following the vibrant flash of purple, a familiar burst of laughter filled the large property, instantly bristling him.

A following flash of a light blue came after the purple wake, another loud laugh echoed in the air behind it. Snape knew from the juvenile burst of cackles that Harry's redheaded counterpart was back, at his property, uninvited— again.

Snape stopped walking and listened intently. The boys were less than a quarter mile out but their boisterous words rang out crystal clear in the cold night air. Snape listened to Harry mercilessly tease Ron about being afraid to stay for dinner.

Snape knit his brow at the words. Why an offer of free food distressed Ronald Weasley, of all people, made little sense to him. He rolled his eyes at the protest that followed.

Ron insisted that he had no interest in enduring such a 'right awkward' obligation. He really had to go, he told Harry, it was dangerously late. Though, despite Ron's best attempts to leave, Harry cast another spell, illuminating the dark sky with a mesmerizing hue of turquoise blue.

Snape tsked out loud, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

As the soft night breeze caressed the hard lines of his face, he found himself doing what he hadn't in years. Prompted by the tenderness of the night echoing with Harry's strong laughter, he glanced up to the blanket of twinkling stars and muttered:

"I hope you know, I'm exerting my best effort with him these days. However, your son's audacity in testing boundaries is… quite notable, to say the least, Lily."

He shook his head pulling his exhausted gaze back down. It had been many, many years since he had spoken to her memory, but somehow, it felt right tonight. He rubbed his hand across his face and straightened his black shirt out.

Then, in a twisting, blinding flash, Snape Aparated, disappearing from the lonesome gravel path.

Ron pulled his wand up, poised to cast the next disarming spell, but before he could, Professor Snape materialized onto the lawn between them in a blinding twist.

Harry and Ron abruptly halted, Ron momentarily losing his breath, and Harry letting out a soft, "oh bloody hell," as they found themselves instantly under Snape's scrutinizing gaze.

For whatever reason, neither of them had anticipated him to Aparate straight into the backyard.

So much for Ron's eagle eye lookout, Harry thought.

"Harry Potter," Snape's voice was low and slow, glaring down first at Harry's drawn wand then up to his guilty emerald eyes. "Is this your idea of appropriate behavior given the circumstances you find yourself in?"

Harry flushed, hurriedly tucking his wand into his pocket. "Uh, well, er… no. Sorry, Professor Snape, we were just—"

Snape raised his calloused palm, effectively silencing Harry, then turned his cold, icy glare to Ron.

"Mr. Weasley, kindly refresh my memory. When did you receive a formal invitation from me requesting your commencement with this ludicrous display of unrestricted magic on my property?"

Ron swallowed, quickly tucking his wand into his back pocket. "I didn't… sir."

Snape let the cold spring air fill with a palpable tension as he considered his next steps. On any other occasion, he might have been tempted to take Harry over his knee for this little display of bravado. A duel in the middle of a neighborhood—at his age? What utter nonsense.

Then again, it was late and he genuinely desired a break from administering discipline.

Fortunately enough, Ron's strange stance against being forced to eat dinner at his residence provided an excellent penance for his actions.

"Potter, we will certainly discuss this tonight," Snape said, letting the ominous threat tighten around Harry's chest.

Harry nodded, letting out a soft, "Yes, sir." Bloody hell, he'd managed to do it again.

Why couldn't he stay out of trouble with Snape? He prayed to anyone listening, that Snape would still deem a third spanking today as too excessive. Despite the late hour, his bum still didn't feel good after yesterday's punishment.

Snape turned and leveled Ron with a look that made him squirm.

"Weasley, given your evident desire to abandon your family and file for adoption into this one, you will stay for the evening meal."

It was dark, but the flickering lantern on the back porch illuminated Ron's distraught face at the sentence. Harry would have smiled if the frozen air wasn't so thick with tension.

"With me," Snape directed, turning on his heel and motioning for the teenagers to follow.

The minute Snape turned away, Ron shot Harry a death glare. This time Harry couldn't help the little smile that pulled up the corners of his cold lips.

He pulled his hands up and mouthed, "Sorry."

Ron replied in a tight frown. Blimey he didn't want to eat dinner next to the pissed off bat in a button up shirt. He knew he should've left hours ago.

As they plodded along, following Snape's motion for them to step first through the black back door, Harry felt a small glimmer of curiosity at Snape's words to Ron, despite the thick sarcasm that had encompassed them.

Did Snape, deep down, consider him… would he ever consider him… sort of like family? The thought lingered, creating a subtle warmth in Harry amidst the underlying tension.

"Take this to the table," Snape said, handing Harry the last bowl of tomato soup.

Harry nodded, forcing himself not to chuckle at the disdain painted all over Ron's face. He would have teased him a bit if not for Ron's sleep deprived eyes, the dark circles looked worse today, making Harry feel disheartened.

"Mr. Weasley, you take this," Snape turned and handed Ron a platter with a loaf of roasted bread on it.

The redhead accepted the buttered loaf tentatively, peering down at it with more than a hint of surprise.

It looked… right tasty. The three bowls of soup on the table all appeared appropriately tomato colored. The comforting scent permeating the kitchen was a savory blend of spices intermixed with basil leaves.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but it sure wasn't the cozy vibe the kitchen emitted. Or the comforting smell of home cooked food that Snape had prepared himself.

The emotions traversing his face amused Harry. Ron's surprise superseded his when he found out Snape could cook. Yeah, it was a bit out of character for the man, but what had Ron expected? Snape to make them eat out of bubbling cauldrons or something?

The three of them soon settled into the table, Harry started eating first, then Snape. Ron was the last one to finally take a small spoonful of the warm, tomato soup.

His brows shot up as he swallowed, he was astonished by the taste. Not a second later he dunked his spoon in for a much larger second bite.

They ate in contemplative silence for a moment, Harry eyed Snape nervously when he picked up one of his essays from the counter behind them.

"So," Harry started before Snape could read much, "how was your, uh, outing?"

Snape raised a brow up at Harry, pulling his eyes from the essay for a brief second.

"Unnecessarily long," Snape responded, his dark eyes gliding back to the paper, his mind trailing back to Draco's ridiculous fit.

Harry swam his silver spoon around the red lake of tomato soup, hoping he wasn't in too much trouble for the duel. To be fair, Snape hadn't said Ron couldn't come over today. Though, his expression and warning for a conversation in the backyard made him feel uneasy. He felt slightly embarrassed to have Snape reading his punishment essay at the table too.

Pulling Harry from his slight distress, Ron ripped off a large piece of bread and dunked it straight into the soup bowl. For someone so hesitant to eat dinner at Snape's, he'd sure made himself at home after tasting everything. Harry gave a little satisfied smirk as he watched Ron and pulled another warm spoonful up to his mouth.

Looking down at his soup, Ron hefted the red soggy bread up, just before he could take a massive dripping bite he glanced over to Snape.

"You went into town then?" Ron asked, chomping down on the bread in a satisfying, buttery squish.

Snape's dark eyes shot up at the atrocious sound. Harry couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.

Ron looked up, giving him a 'what's funny?' face, smacking obliviously down on his bread and soup.

Snape stared intently at Ron for a moment, before folding the essay over and returning his attention to the soup and question at hand.

"Surely your mother requires table manners at your home, Weasley," Snape shot, watching Ron devour the soup without a care in the world.

Clearly, Snape's punishment for the boy proved to be counterintuitive as he was the one now suffering, not Ron.

The redhead offered an apologetic smile and slowed down some.

Snape sighed. "To answer your inquiry, yes, I did venture into town this afternoon."

Ron hadn't really looked back at Snape, just the soup. He dunked another corner of the bread in and said, "Right then. Oh—say, did you happen to hear anything about the fire at the Malfoy manor when you were there?"

Snape didn't even have a second to process Ron's question before Harry dropped his next spoonful of soup.

Red droplets of tomato bisque landed on the table as Harry completely abandoned his next bite.

"There was a fire at the Malfoy's?" Harry reiterated. "You didn't mention that today."

Ron shrugged.

"Guess I forgot about it till now," his words were completely blocked by the unnecessarily large bit of soup and bread in his mouth.

Harry started but Snape cut off his next burning question."Wh—"

"Weasley, do not talk with your mouth full at my home. Potter, wipe up that soup that you just so graciously splattered about the dining table."

Snape let out an audible 'tsk' and both boys nodded, following up with small, 'yes, sir's.'

Harry was hardly dissuaded by the reprimand. He was simply dying to know everything Ron did. If he could slap him for holding this information in all day, he would have.

"What happened, Ron?" Harry asked while halfheartedly mopping up the soup with his napkin. "How'd you hear?"

Shooting Harry a pointed glare first, Snape then turned his attention to Ron. "Indeed, Mr. Weasley, I too am wondering how exactly you came upon this tidbit of information?"

Snape took a bite of his soup and leveled Ron with an expectant expression. Unlike Harry, Ron failed to catch the edge to Snape's tone.

Harry swallowed, hoping Ron would get it out before Snape cut the conversation off.

The minute Ron had said it, everything clicked into place. So that's why Narcissa had come last night! Draco was somehow involved in the fire.

Completely chewing his next bite before speaking, Ron glanced first at Harry then at Snape.

"Mum ran into Draco's mum down in town when she was off buying all the bloody herbal stuff for me," Ron said, then took another bite and swallowed.

"She got me daffodils this time, Harry. Blimey flowers. Who thinks of that for sleep issues?"

Harry tossed his hands up a little. "Right, flowers, terrible idea. Go on then, what happened? How did a fire start?"

Ron furrowed his brow a bit as he chewed another bite. Meanwhile Snape narrowed his dark gaze toward Harry.

"Not sure, mate. Mum just asked me if I knew what happened. Draco's mum didn't say much."

Before Harry could reply, Ron turned to Snape, "Did you hear what happened, sir?"

Harry paused for a minute, letting his thoughts circle around. He then tapped his silver spoon on the side of his glass bowl resulting in a few soft clinks.

"Yeah, did you hear what happened, Professor Snape?" Harry added, smirking a little at the dark glower coming over Snape's typically composed features.

"Harry, enough. This goes for the both of you," Snape shot Harry a harsh warning glare, "speculation over gossip is entirely inappropriate. It is best not to involve yourselves with matters you were not directly included in. Understood? Find a more prudent topic of conversation."

Ron nodded, content to let it go as he returned to his soup. Draco's bloody house fire was the least of his worries these days. Unless the blonde snob had gotten crisped up in it, he didn't care much.

In contrast, Harry couldn't possibly abandon his stream of speculation. It was like clicking in puzzle pieces he wasn't supposed to know about, reminding him of the way he used to piece things together at Hogwarts.

Against his better judgment, Harry's curiosity got the better of him.

"She didn't give any clues to how it started?" He asked Ron.

"Harry James Potter." Snape snapped, his tone was fiercely sharp. "Were you not paying attention to a word I just said?"

Snape's dark eyes looked positively glacial. He couldn't fathom Harry's audacity to press forth after receiving such stern punishments yesterday.

Harry briefly considered the harshness Snape's tone held, vividly remembering their conversation on rules and expectations earlier that morning. The inclusion of his middle name was new to… making his stomach drop a bit.

The way he saw it, he now had two options. The first and best, was to drop it and be respectful. The second… well, the second for whatever reason was too tantalizing not to take.

Snape ought to know he wasn't that thick; he could figure things out fairly quick with enough clues. Maybe, just maybe, Snape wouldn't hide stuff from him if he knew that Harry was perceptive enough to figure it out. He just wanted to know if Draco faced discipline, was that so bad? The prat has run around the school with his nose so high in the air over the last six years, Harry just wanted to know he actually got humbled once and awhile.

"Sorry, Professor Snape," Harry began, pulling up a bite of soup.

Snape watched Harry carefully for a moment. The young hero's inability to leave things alone never failed to kindle a fire in his chest.

The trio continued with their meal for a breath more, the little clinks of soup spoons and Ron's slight slurping filled the quiet dining space.

"In other news," Harry started in a tone far too casual, "Ron and I had a good day."

"Is that so?" Snape replied, his words drawn out slow and suspicious, watching the way Harry's emerald eyes seemed to dance in insolence.

"Oh yeah," Harry said, taking a bite and swallowing. "Well, except I spilled some water all over my trousers before I mopped… had to go change."

The kitchen was dangerously quiet, Ron eyed Harry with a perplexed expression. He had finished dinner first and was now sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed. Why did Snape need to know about that?

Snape's expression was tight and emotionless, though Harry sensed he was well aware of the direction this was taking.

"I have to say, it is rather practical to keep everything in my top drawer," Harry quipped, amused by the way Snape's dark eyes seemed to narrow, ever so slightly. "Fantastic to know where everything is… or where it isn't."

Ron, being Ron, uncrossed his arms and leaned in to take another piece of bread. The following crunch punctuated the tense energy ricocheting between Snape and Harry.

This was an odd conversation, yet his curiosity over it didn't mask his desire for more buttery bread. To be fair, he had been thinking about snatching another piece for sometime but since he had practically devoured the loaf solo, he'd thought it necessary to wait for Harry and Snape to grab some. Whatever they were doing now though, it was evident that bread was not on their agenda.

Snape let his dark gaze pierce into Harry's bravado for a moment more. Then, in a slow and precise manner, he moved his soup bowl out of the way and interlaced his fingers.

"Clearly, your exceptional talent for observation is far superior to your capacity for obeying my explicit instructions." Snape's low voice dripped with icy precision, "Well done, Potter, not a night later and you've already successfully earned yourself an experience with that missing item you've so subtly hinted at."

And just like that, Harry lost the wind in his sails. All the air in the room seemed to suck up, leaving him breathless.

Harry dropped his eyes down to his bowl and sucked in a sharp breath.

Well, fuck.

Satisfied to see Harry's ego deflate like a punctured balloon, Snape turned to Ron.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, as delighted as I am to have your black hole of an appetite here—threatening to devour the entire table and chairs—I'm afraid it is time for you to return to your parents' residence. Harry and I have a discussion we must attend to."

Ron nodded, swallowing his last bite of bread, shooting Harry a sympathetic look.

"Right, um thanks for super," Ron said, feeling a bit embarrassed when he noticed the bread was nearly gone. "Can I offer you a hand with the dishes then?"

"No, that won't be necessary." Snape said, rising from the table.

Harry swallowed hard, trying his best not to flush too bad at the unexpected threat from Snape. He stood up a little stiffly, feeling his heart thud wildly in his chest.

Snape couldn't be serious, it had to be an empty threat. He was just teasing a little!

"I'll walk you out, Ron," Harry grumbled, he moved quickly past Snape without making eye contact.

"Right," Ron replied, turning to go. "Uh, thanks again, Professor Snape."

Snape gave Ron a curt nod, collecting the dishes.

"I'll send an owl next time I want to drop by." Ron added, hoping the offer could make up for the duel and loaf of bread.

"As you should," Snape said, setting the dishes down into the sink, "I will accept nothing less from you, Ronald."

"Yes, sir." Ron furrowed his brow as he turned around, how strange to hear Snape use his first name… and Harry's too. He shrugged it off then strolled over to a distraught looking Harry waiting for him at the door.

"You alright, mate?" Ron whispered when he got closer.

Harry shot a quick glance at Snape then motioned for Ron to follow him out the front door.

Closing the door softly behind them, Harry said, "I'm fine, Ron. Just stepped on his toes a bit."

Ron gave a little frown, "Yeah, what has that all anyhow? What were you two snappin on about?"

Harry wasn't the best liar, but it came a bit more naturally with Ron.

"Oh, just a parchment piece on cleaning and rules. He took it out of my drawer is all, he didn't care for the teasing about it."

"Ah," Ron nodded and leaned up to stretch. "Well, if you don't fancy turning into a maid, you better just get on with him… or, here's a brilliant idea: move out like a sane person."

Smiling, Harry squeezed Ron's shoulder. "Right," he said, "I'll try."

Ron shook his head.

"You were right about the food though. Astonishing, isn't it? I forgot who he was for a minute until he snapped off at you. Did you hear him call me 'Ronald'?

Harry went to reply but caught the sound of Snape walking to the cracked front door behind him before he could. He quickly gave Ron a little wave off, pointing fast to the door behind him.

"Right, mate," Ron whispered with a nod, "accio broom!"

Just as the door flew open, Ron's broom shot onto the porch, smacking the little lantern at the end of the steps.

Ron cringed as he snatched it up and caught sight of the crooked lamp. He didn't look back though, shooting off fast into the night sky with the least amount of grace Snape had ever witnessed. His dark eyes narrowed at the askew lantern, then fell directly to Harry's back.

A tense minute crawled by and Harry could feel Snape standing behind him, glaring down.

"Er, look, Professor Snape—"

Harry semi turned but soon lost his stomach when he felt Snape's warm hand take hold of his arm.

"Come with me." Snape said slowly.