[TW: Disciplinary Spanking and Consensual Non-Consent of a young adult (CNC)] This is not a slash fic, 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: Set some time after the Battle of Hogwarts, at the beginning of the summer, prior to the start of the fall/new semester. Professor McGonagall has assumed the role of headmistress and has devised a plan for Harry's living accommodations now that the battle is over.

Chapter 1: Deliberations

"Might I interpret your brooding silence as a tacit agreement to my proposition, Severus?" McGonagall raised her thin brows, eyeing the stoic potions professor with her warm yet stern gaze.

Snape glanced at her and drew in a deep breath; there was a slight quiver to it that didn't go unnoticed by the expectant-looking headmistress.

"Minerva," he drawled, casting his glance from her to the crackling fire as he twirled the small silver spoon in his steaming teacup. "This is a considerable decision."

"Yes, one of which you have considered for the last three weeks."

She rested her own small cup in her lap, focusing on him with an unmistakably determined look.

The crackling of the wood burning in the fire filled the silence in the room. Snape nodded and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his large nose.

"I presume you have considered a different accommodation if the boy does not agree to my method of discipline?"

"If he does not wish to go with you, then I will have to insist he comes back next year to finish his seventh year as a student. After graduating, then he may apply to work as an aide."

Snape let out a low hum and took another sip of tea.

"Though," McGonagall said, deflated, "he would have to be on his own for the summer, or possibly the year."

Snape remained quiet, his fingers tight around the handle of the kettle on the side table. He motioned for McGonagall to hand him her cup, silently offering more.

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the swirling steam. "As much as I'd like to take him in myself, I don't have the capacity to deal with—"

"The repairs to the school, the Granger girl, and the upcoming year. Yes, we discussed this before," Snape said, his voice tinged with cool detachment as he poured more tea into her cup.

"Harry is much too distraught, I fear, to make it on his own right now. Yes, he's technically of age, but he's never been properly looked after, and he's suffering from a tremendous amount of anguish."

"Yes, the weight of saving the entire Wizarding and Muggle World will do that to a young boy." Snape sipped his tea, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames of the fireplace. McGonagall followed his gaze, feeling a deep sense of sadness of her own at the thought of Harry suffering.

After some time soaking in the silence, Snape cleared his throat and adjusted his robe. He smoothed out a wrinkle in his pants and spoke, "I'll offer it—"

"Oh, that is wonderful! Thank you, Severus." McGonagall clasped her hands together and sighed with relief.

Snape lifted up a finger in protest, "Hold your thanks, Minerva. If he does not wish to accept the conditions of this arrangement, I absolutely will not insist. Knowing the boy, I'd say his acquiescence is not promising."

McGonagall's lips curled into a knowing smile as she spoke, her eyes holding a glint of amusement. "Severus, your carefully constructed facade has crumbled. He understands the depth of your care for him and the sacrifices you have made. I expect you'll be surprised."

Snape rolled his eyes and finished the remainder of his tea in one swift motion. He carefully placed the cup and saucer back on the table, the faint clank breaking the silence.

He rose, fixing McGonagall with a parting nod. "We shall see."


Harry took in a shaky breath as he strolled through the desolate courtyard. The unmistakable crunch of rubble echoed underfoot, harmonizing with the rhythmic clanking of repairs reverberating from the castle. He glanced at the wizards toiling tirelessly to mend a shattered quadrant of the castle's gate, a twinge of guilt still gnawed at his chest as he took in the scene.

"Harry," McGonagall's calling broke his train of thought. She waved him over from a cleared section of the castle's remains.

He smiled and moved quickly to meet her.

"Hello, Professor," he greeted, his eyes scanning the ongoing repairs. Though he made an effort to appear enthusiastic, the weariness etched across his face overshadowed it. "Looks like the repairs are coming along."

"Yes, they are," She said warmly, noting the look of exhaustion on his face. "Come, sit here for a moment with me." She patted a spot next to her on the stone bench that still stood strong.

Harry followed her instructions and sat.

"Now," McGonagall began, "I've been considering your interest in joining Hogwarts as an aide for the next term, despite your decision to withdraw from the required seventh year of study."

Harry nodded, a familiar feeling of defeat rising in his stomach as he anticipated her dismissal of the idea.

"And, though it is unheard of for a student to aid a professor prior to graduating, under the circumstances, I may allow it if—"

Harry shot off the bench, nearly knocking her from her spot, and enveloped her in a tight hug.

His voice was filled with genuine gratitude as he exclaimed, "Great! Thank you so much, Professor McGonagall! I really didn't want to leave."

"Oh!" McGonagall caught herself from the impending fall and returned his tight embrace. "Hold on now, Harry," she pulled back a bit. "There are stipulations you must agree to if you want this opportunity."

Harry blushed a smidge as he pulled away from the embrace. "Yes, sorry about that. What kind of stipulations?"

"Well," McGonagall began as they returned to their seated positions, "the school will most certainly take the remainder of the summer to get repaired."

Harry's bright disposition fell a bit, but he nodded along in understanding.

"It may even take an entire year. We are not quite sure on the timeline quite yet, which of course leaves us with your living accommodations in the meantime."

"I could go stay with the Weasleys?" Harry asked hopefully.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, "Though the Weasley family is wonderful, I'm afraid they haven't the ability to provide you with the structure you'll need to be successful as an aid here."

Harry tried not to look deflated, "What about staying here with you and Hermione?"

"No, though I would love to have you, you will need more attention than I can provide, and my efforts will be focused on preparing Miss Granger for the upcoming year, as well as attending to matters of the rebuild."

Harry felt his throat tighten, and for some reason, tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Feelings of rejection, guilt, and old thoughts of abandonment filled his mind.

McGonagall noticed and moved closer to him on the bench. She took his hand in her own, "Harry, you have much trauma to work through. You need to be with someone who can give you their full attention, time, and discipline prior to returning here."

Harry nodded reluctantly, his brow furrowing deeply at the mention of discipline, a knot of apprehension coiled in his stomach.

"That is why, I've decided that Professor Snape would be the most suitable option for you."

Harry instinctively shot to his feet, "Snape!?"

Unbeknownst to Harry, the potions professor had quietly walked up the corridor behind the boy moments prior to his outburst. Snape's long black robes swept through the rubble as he'd made his way over to the pair.

"Professor Snape, to you— young man." McGonagall leveled him with a firm gaze, her eyes drifted to the right of the boy as she made mischievous eye contact with the potions professor.

"Oh, right. Sorry. But, Professor McGonagall! I don't think he'll want me—"

"Nonsense," McGonagall waved her hand dismissively, "It has already been discussed, and Professor Snape agreed readily." She smiled, noting Snape's eye roll at Harry's mounting theatrics.

Harry squinted his eyes in disbelief as he looked down at McGonagall.

"Really?" Harry started, his tone incredulous. "Professor Snape agreed to have me live with him without a single protest? Just, 'hi-ho, let me sacrifice my entire summer to host Harry Potter, the one I've had to put up with for years and just nearly died for'? I mean, I don't—"

"Are you insinuating, Mr. Potter, that Professor McGonagall would be willingly perfidious?" Snape's low, drawling voice cut through the conversation, sharp and clear, as he emerged silently from the shadows behind Harry

McGonagall couldn't help but smile as she observed Harry, rendered speechless, gazing at Snape with wide-eyed unease. Snape crossed his arms behind his back and peered down at Harry with a most disapproving expression.

Harry stammered, his thoughts jumbled and words failing him. "I, uh... I mean..."

"Eloquently put as ever, Mr. Potter," Snape looked away from the now-crimson-faced boy and extended his hand to McGonagall, helping her up from her sitting position.

"If you'll pardon us, Minerva, Mr. Potter and I have some matters to discuss regarding this proposition."

"Of course," McGonagall smiled warmly. She gave Harry's back a reassuring pat as she turned to leave, leaning in to whisper, "If this option doesn't suit you, Harry, remember we can always find another solution."

As McGonagall departed, the color began to return to Harry's face, and he managed a grateful smile. He muttered back, his voice laced with gratitude, "Thank you."


Author's notes: I will be updating a new chapter to this shortly! Thank you for taking the time to read.