[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. Light spanking of Harry in this chapter.

Chapter 16: Cherry

The darkness of the evening backlit the pale skinned woman, her cherry red lipstick glistened in the flickering porch light as she looked up at Snape. Even with copious amounts of white, seamless foundation and binding pats of translucent powder, the effects of many long, anxious days lay etched into her aging skin.

Snape's frown deepened as his cold, formal gaze traversed her slowly from head to toe.

Severus Snape was hardly a welcoming man and she knew he would be anything but enthused to see her after sundown.

She held out hope though, after the many times she'd faced his doorstep without giving him notice before, that he would, again, hear her out.

Looking up at him she caught something in his expression that lingered with her. Where she expected to see toil or anger, she was met with Snape's typical firm strength, sealing her resolve for the request at hand.

"Very well, make it quick." Snape snapped, pulling open the door.

She flashed him a short smile and stepped in daintily, her pinpoint heels clicking sharply on the freshly waxed wooden floor. She was clad in a velvety formal overcoat, one that exuded wealth despite the trying times she found herself in.

Harry watched them both with tight unease. What could she possibly want from Snape now? The war was over.

"Hello, Harry." She said quietly from her place in the entryway, her somber hazel eyes met him with an unexpected warmth.

Harry swallowed and pushed himself up from the table.

"Hi, Mrs. Malfoy." He said back, forcing himself to walk slowly over to her and a very dour looking Snape.

Seeing her for the first time since the final battle stirred a mix of tumultuous feelings within Harry.

While he was undoubtedly grateful for her protective intervention in the Forbidden Forest, a chill had still crawled up his spine when he'd heard her speak, hidden from sight on the doorstep.

He didn't fully trust her– not really.

Sure she loved Draco, and spared the truth of his life from the Dark Lord because of it; but, he feared her motives. He suddenly felt a wave of nausea grip his stomach as he walked slowly towards them, sick at the thought of Snape reconnecting with the Malfoy family.

Snape glowered, casting a quick glance between the pair when Harry took up a spot in front of him, to the left of Narcissa.

Curse Minerva and this dreadful summer plan, Snape thought.

This was hardly how he wished to spend his evening: catering to whatever pitiful pleading Narcissa was sure to employ, followed swiftly by enduring the deluge of tears from Harry for their evening little chat after an exhausting, emotional night of Q&A with the boy.

Snape released a tense, audible sigh. Interlacing his fingers and dropping them to the front of his waist.

"Narcissa," Snape said sharply, turning to face her. "Given the late hour, I presume you are here for a private conversation?"

Narcissa's empty gaze lingered on Harry for a moment longer before pulling her attention back to Snape.

"That is correct, Severus." She said, giving a small nod that shifted the top half of her silky smooth hair.

Harry watched the short interplay between the two with apprehension.

Even though Snape's stern gaze rested on Narcissa, he noticed the way Harry began to fidget with the corner hem of his long sleeve shirt. Harry looked rather pensive as he waited for someone else to speak.

"Very well then. Potter," Snape said, turning to face the young wizard. "Go to your room, I will be up shortly to conclude our own discussion before you retire for bed."

Oh Merlin, Harry felt everything flush at Snape's words. He darted his eyes away from Narcissa and shot emerald daggers up at Snape.

What if Narcissa caught onto the suggestive way Snape had said the word 'discussion'? Look Narcissa, the hero of the wizarding world— who you helped to hunt down and nearly kill— is being sent up to his room like a naughty little boy for a spanking, Harry's inner monologue taunted. Ugh, he was so embarrassed.

Even the thought of Narcissa just knowing he got spanked was enough to make him burn with furious humiliation. What if she told Draco? His life would be over, the idea of Draco learning about this secret punishment he submitted to was a torment that deepened Harry's sense of shame.

Snape raised a brow up at the unmistakable mixture of defiance and embarrassment in Harry's expression.

Narcissa shifted her slow gaze between them, silently contemplating the unspoken dynamic between the two.

"I think I'll stay down here, keep myself busy with something while you two talk." Harry challenged, crossing his arms over his thin chest.

"You think so?" Snape said, his tone sharp as a razor's edge.

"Yeah, Snape, that's what I said, isn't it?" Harry retorted with fake confidence.

Snape's dark flinty gaze narrowed at Harry. He was stunned at the brash foolishness the young wizard possessed when facing an impending paddling for misbehavior already.

Narcissa raised her brows a little, looking up to Snape then glancing back down to Harry.

A tense hush came over the entryway, only broken by the light breeze of the night wind fluttering against the window sills. The looming silence enveloped the three of them as Harry refused to move an inch.

After a moment of lengthy silence, without breaking his glare at Harry, Snape said: "See yourself to the kitchen, Narcissa."

Narcissa nodded, letting her eye's traverse the reddened boy's face for a second more. Harry looked different, flushed— but healthier, a brighter complexion that no longer bore the marks of hard, sleepless nights.

She slowly moved forward, walking between the pair and making her way toward the kitchen.

The sharp echoing clicks of her heels reverberated in her wake as she glanced around the home.

"Lovely little spot you've got here, Severus. Much better than that ghastly corner in Spinner's End." She said, pausing in the entryway of the kitchen to peer around.

Snape shot his black eyes away from Harry just long enough to give Narcissa's retreating figure a sharp glare.

Harry paused to furrow his brow, "What's Spinner's End?" He asked.

Snape refused to reply, waiting a half second more for Narcissa to disappear around the corner of the kitchen's entryway.

When she did, his advance on Harry was swift, stepping a pace forward and snatching up the boy's bicep in an iron lock grip. Their little question time had come to an end; as had his inclination to extend Harry any leniency or pity.

Harry winced, his heart thumping widely in his chest at the sudden grab.

Oh, bloody hell.

"Wait— Snape!" Harry hissed in a whisper as he was yanked closer to the Potions Master's side, he tried to pull back but it was useless.

Completely forgetting his momentary confusion over Narcissa's quip, Harry blanched at the fury he caught in Snape's eyes.

In truth, he knew how foolish it was to challenge him at the door, but he had to prove to Narcissa he wasn't a child. What if she told Draco that Snape had sent him up to bed like a baby?

Wait— he's not going to try and spank me now is he? Harry paled at the sudden intrusive thought.

That he could not handle. He would rather be tortured by the Dark Lord or kissed by the dementors than have Narcissa actually hear him get a spanking across Snape's knees.

Noting how the rebellion was replaced by terror in Harry's wide green eyes, Snape sharpened his stern expression.

"You find it wise to add disrespect and deliberate disobedience to your extensive list of transgressions, do you?" Snape chided in a little whisper.

"You sent me up to my room like a bloody three year old!" Harry defended, his voice hushed but peaking in sharpness.

"Swearing as well?" Snape tsked out loud, "I'd forgotten how brilliant you are at digging yourself a grave."

His voice was cold and firm, reminding Harry of his darker days spent in potions class.

Harry huffed and looked away, boring his angry, uncomfortable glare, into the wooden door.

"It would appear," Snape drawled out, bringing his warm lips down to lower whisper in Harry's ear, "I was far too lenient in your discipline this morning, given you possess neither the sense of self preservation nor the required respect to follow my explicit instructions."

Too lenient? Harry sucked in a sharp breath and moved to speak but Snape cut him off.

"Rest assured, I will make my expectations for your behavior unmistakably clear to you this evening. This time, your discipline will leave an impression on you."

Snape's flinty eyes left no room for doubt as he gave Harry's bicep a reprimanding squeeze.

Harry went pale at his words, momentarily forgetting Narcissa and switching into a quiet plea.

"Oh, no, please, Snape—Professor Snape— please don't…don't, I can't handle something worse than this morning." Harry's pitiful green eyes met the narrowed dark gaze in desperation.

Snape said nothing for a moment, making Harry shift nervously and his bum tingle with dreadful anticipation. His backside still ached, even near nine hours later.

While he knew his next spanking was going to hurt, the thought of Snape making it deliberately worse made him feel like crying.

"It was just embarrassing to be sent up to my room in front of her." Harry muttered for good measure despite the invisible steam rolling out of Snape's ears.

Snape's anger came to a head at that little quip.

The boy hesitated to obey simple instructions for fear of embarrassment, yet displayed no concern for the repercussions of open defiance?

Snape scoffed, "Was it?" He whispered with a venomous lace to his tone, "Well then, I highly suggest you retire to your bedroom now, if you'd like to salvage a modicum of your fragile dignity."

On a dime, Snape's icy whisper turned Harry's guttural fear to anger.

Momentarily remembering who he was and what he'd been through, Harry's scared wide eyes switched to dark green slits. No part of him was 'fragile', fuck Snape for even saying that.

"I don't care who's around, young man." Snape continued when he caught sight of the rebellion rekindling in Harry's eyes, "You will respect me and do as you're told immediately in this home, or I will drape you over my knee so fast it will make your head spin." Snape finished in his typical low drawl.

Harry hardly swallowed the furious jolt of frustration that shot through his chest, replacing the fear that had gripped him only moments ago.

He was an adult now, he'd killed the Dark Lord, he'd been at war and bore every one's burdens nearly alone at the end, why should he have to scurry away the minute Snape snapped at him like a bloody petrified toddler?

"Sod off." Harry spat in reply, attempting to break free from Snape's grip, only to freeze when it tightened further.

Instead of releasing him, Snape pulled Harry in closer, leveling him with a lethal glare.

"You've just bought yourself a world of trouble, Potter." Snape whispered, shoving Harry toward the staircase.

"Narcissa," Snape said in a cold tone, turning his head slightly to face the kitchen.

Harry's eyes shot back up to meet Snape's; the hot anger extinguished by cold dread at Snape's call to her.

Wait, did he really just tell Snape to sod off? Was he possessed again or something? What the bloody hell was wrong with him?

No, no, no, he could not possibly be spanked with Narcissa in the house.

Harry felt every muscle in his body grow rigid as he listened to her reply with a soft, distant, "Yes?"

"You'll have to pardon me for a moment or two while I have a little chat with Harry about respect," Snape said in a terrifyingly calm tone.

Harry felt his insides wilt like dead flowers as Snape shoved him forward, practically herding him up the staircase.

Their clustered footsteps clacked against the aged wood as they ascended the creaky pathway to Harry's personal hell.

"Quite alright." Narcissa called back, listening to the pair clamor up the stairs.

She shook her head— Severus Snape would never change.

She respected him for that though, understanding Harry had a reason to whisper whine as he and Snape reached the upper portion of the home.

With sophisticated grace, Narcissa slid a wooden chair out from the dining room table and sat down.

She brought her slender hand up to her bony cheek and rested her face in her cold palm. She let her gaze wander about the dimly lit kitchen– sadness enveloping her core for the tenth time that day.


"P-professor Snape!" Harry quietly pleaded with vigor as Snape yanked him up the second set of stairs to his room. "Please, don't! She can hear us!"

Harry had grown desperate and his hands were now wet with sweat. He became painfully aware of the lingering ache in his bum as they grew closer to his room.

Oh, no. He was so screwed. His stomach shivered at the thought of the paddle being worse than the dreadful hairbrush, what was wrong with him?

Stupid, so bloody stupid.

He was sure he wasn't going to survive the night.

Snape said nothing in reply, merely squeezing Harry's bicep harder, eliciting a whine from the petrified young wizard as they neared the top door.

Snape faltered when he reached the final step as Harry stopped dead in his tracks, tugging his arm back hard nearly knocking the both of them off balance.

"Harry Potter, enough." Snape said low and slow, moving his voice up from a whisper. "Walk— this instant." He commanded, pointing up to the door with a tone that made Harry's heart flutter.

Harry groaned, his face turning scarlet as he forced himself to move his stuck feet, stomping the smallest amount possible up the last few steps.

When they entered the room Snape snapped the wooden door shut with a firm resonating clack that made Harry grimace as he released his arm.

The room was dimly lit but a few candles spread about coupled with a lantern flickering on the nightstand brought enough brightness to illuminate the both of them.

In that moment, any defiance Harry had was gone, replaced by a vice grip of self preservation. He even considered dropping to his knees in a plea as he backed away from Snape.

"Please, please– Professor Snape," Harry begged again, backing up to his bed. "Wait until she's gone, please— don't. I'm sorry, really sorry, sir."

Snape glared at Harry.

Though he would have preferred to make a lasting impression on him for the defiance, he wouldn't risk prolonging the conversation with Narcissa.

Snape was too emotionally drained from the day to deal with Harry properly and then her. He and the boy had a long little chat ahead of them after the final spat Harry gave, and he wouldn't compromise on integrity of the discipline for the sake of social obligation.

There was something he could do though.

Walking with firm, resolved strides to the left hand side of the room, Snape looked up at Harry and said, "Not another word. Come here to me."

Harry felt hot tears of intense shame and trepidation take hold of his composure, not bothering to hide them, he crossed his arms over his thin chest and moved slowly to meet Snape.

He had been dreading his second spanking all day, but now with Narcissa in earshot, he couldn't possibly imagine anything worse in the world.

Snape might've rolled his eyes at Harry's crocodile tears if they hadn't already experienced such an emotional morning together. Snape let out a small sigh and motioned for Harry to move faster.

Harry soon stood next to Snape, keeping his eyes downcast as a few, hot heavy tears hit the wooden flooring below his bare feet. This sucked so bad.

To Harry's astonishment, Snape didn't bend him forward.

Instead, he gave Harry a hard little shove into the awaiting corner of the room.

"You will stay here until I've finished my conversation downstairs." Snape instructed, watching Harry's tight shoulders sag in relief.

"Do not even consider moving, or I will impress upon you the severity of your disobedience whether Narcissa Malfoy is still present in this house or not," Snape threatened. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Harry nodded quickly. "Okay, yes, s-sir." he said, wiping away the shameful tears with the back of his shirt sleeve.

Thank Merlin, Harry thought, relief flooded him at the sentence despite the continued tears.

It had been a long and mostly painful day; he didn't want a second spanking, didn't want Narcissa there, didn't want Snape mad at him again. Everything was too overwhelming to hold back the swells of tears that just kept coming.

If the circumstances were different he would have hugged Snape for postponing the second spanking.

He couldn't even feel angry at the corner time; he was far more grateful to be facing it than Snape's lap.

Snape pushed his warm, potion stained palm into Harry's lower back, withdrawing his wand with precision. In a flash, he added three horribly hard smacks to Harry's trouser clad bottom, making him gasp.

"I find your behavior this evening utterly appalling," Snape remarked with a tone of disdain, punctuating his words with three more sharp smacks that elicited a soft 'oww' from Harry.

"Stay put." Snape said as he replaced his wand, executed a swift turn on his heel, and strode out of the bedroom.

With a firm pull, he let the door slam shut, the sound echoing ominously through the room.

Harry's breath hitched as the fiercely sharp sting reignited the horrible ache in his bum. His whole body turned red with shame and he silently prayed Narcissa hadn't heard those smacks.

Harry listened to Snape retreat down the stairs with his firm and measured strides reverberating on the creaking wooden steps.

Harry let out a dejected groan, bringing his hands back to rub out the fresh sting and dropping his head hard into the tight corner. Why did he always do this?


"Apologies for my interruption to your interruption," Snape snarked as he returned to the kitchen. "Potter is still learning what I expect of him."

Narcissa watched Snape as he lit a few additional candles on the table, brightening the dim kitchen.

"He is living with you?" Narcissa asked, not bothering to hide the emotion in her tone.

Snape met her somber hazel eyes, returning their gleam with a curt nod.

"Indeed, at the request of the Headmistress." Snape replied, moving to fill up a copper kettle with water.

Snape forced away the uncomfortable swell of dread that washed over him at having to be in a room with Narcissa again.

He had little desire to discuss his treachery to the Death Eaters in some feigned melodramatic display of emotions, especially with Harry upstairs, sniveling in a corner, waiting to be spanked again.

Narcissa said nothing at first, letting her grave, blank stare, linger on Snape's frame while he moved to set the kettle on the stove.

"Tea or not?" Snape inquired with a curt glance, motioning to the kettle.

"Yes, thank you." Narcissa said quietly after a long, somber pause.

They said nothing more to one another as Snape glided about the kitchen. He retrieved two teacups, setting them down on the counter with a faint clink. Then with deft precision, reached up into the pantry to collect a few fresh clippings of the hung lavender.

Certainly, he was pressed for time, not eager to prolong the conversation, but the solemnity in Narcissa's eyes compelled him to offer a gesture of hospitality despite his irritation.

Narcissa's hazel eyes eventually drifted up the curling steam from her teacup as Snape filled it with a stream of lavender-hued tea. He poured his cup next and then joined her at the table.

She watched him, her broken stare moving through his chest like a hot knife in butter.

Snape moved to speak but Narcissa started in first, bringing the hot liquid up to her cherry red lips.

"So, my sister was right," She said quietly, pausing to take a small sip. "He never should have trusted you."

Snape narrowed his dark eyes. "Indeed, as I told you then and will gladly reiterate now, I played my part well. Now, why are you here?"

Narcissa pushed down a bit of a quiver that threatened to punctuate her words.

"You played the part too well," she said softly, setting down her cup and clasping her thin hands together. "Thank you for doing it, Severus. Draco, he, he couldn't– "

Snape held up his calloused hand, attempting to halt Narcissa's nearing tears.

He didn't have time for this tonight, he possessed not the will nor emotional capacity to coddle both her and Harry for separate swells of overwhelming emotion.

"You should know, my actions were a result of Dumbledore's own order." Snape said quickly, refusing any flattery.

"The execution was not for Draco's well being." Snape added, hating the feeling of thankful sappiness Narcissa had infused into the conversation with her appreciative expression.

"You didn't have to make the vow." Narcissa added, raising her brow a touch.

She refused to believe Snape only did so to prove his loyalty, without a care in the world for the well being of her son. Not after the way he'd taken Draco in over the years at school.

Snape wanted to argue but he prudently decided against it, his mind drifting back to Harry crying alone and feeling a sense of pressure to get Narcissa to leave.

"Why have you come at this late hour? To merely give thanks and reminisce?" Snape shot out with a bit too much edge in his voice. "Or, do I dare detect an intrusive favor to be on the tip of your lips?"

He knew she wanted something, she'd said so. There was some delicate situation that had ushered her to his doorstep that night.

Narcissa knew not to take the bait for an argument, she'd known Snape for too long to fall victim to that trap.

"I'm here because of Draco… again." She said, feeling a surge of emotions well back up in her chest. "I need your help, Serverus."

"What has he done this time?" Snape snapped, narrowing his gaze. His tight expression revealed the intertwined dread and anger invading his thoughts.

"H-he," Narcissa started but held up her delicate, red nail hand when tears threatened to fill her eyes, halting herself from collapsing into another round of tears for the day.

Snape sighed and extended a clean handkerchief from his trouser pocket.

That little prat, he thought to himself, his mind beginning to whirl with what the boy may have done to upset his mother to this extent.

Narcissa accepted the handkerchief and used the corner to well up the droplets of tears in her eyes.

"Pardon me." She said, taking a moment to collect her emotions.

Snape replied with a curt nod and interlaced his fingers, waiting not so patiently for her to continue on.

Narcissa drew in a short, resolute breath, "Draco is so angry and unruly these days. He's getting worse by the second."

Snape let out a sigh and hummed low, "How utterly unsurprising. Am I correct to assume Lucius is residing in Azkaban?"

"Yes." Narcissa said, her tone growing more distant and cold.

"Draco's hardly ever been close to his father, as you know." Narcissa continued, taking a pause to sip her hot tea. "Having him gone though, has seemingly distributed the boy's ability to comprehend any sense of safety, personal responsibility, or house rules."

Snape raised his brow, not entirely surprised at the admission. Lucius was a colder man than he, hardly a good father, but he ran a tight ship at home; keeping Draco in line.

"Have you enforced the rules, Narcissa?" Snape asked, low and slow.

She was a delicate woman and had the greatest tendency to spoil Draco, which had irritated Snape to no end over the years.

Narcissa's gaze fell from Snape's, "Not quite… I'm struggling to be firm after everything we put him through." She admitted with painful honesty.

Snape's loud scoff held a touch of disdain.

"Indulging in sentimentality won't rectify the situation. Draco needs structure, not pity. If you're incapable of asserting control, he may find himself following his father's path sooner than you think." Snape off-handedly concluded, sipping his hot tea.

"That's why I'm here." Narcissa said, folding her hands and looking up to Snape with her pleading warm eyes.

Snape's expression tightened into an instant frown.

"Absolutely not, Narcissa. I am not at liberty to extend my disciplinary duties to another wayward soul. Potter is task enough."

"Severus," Narcissa's tone pleaded with him, "he's delving into dark magic." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears again.

Snape's dark gaze turned flinty.

A heavy moment of lavender soaked silence fell across the table before he finally muttered:

"Continue."


Harry groaned in the corner, crossing his arms and leaning his moppy brown head of hair to the side. He was sure he'd been waiting there for hours by now.

He had gathered his composure, but a torrent of harrowing possibilities flooded Harry's mind.

Narcissa Malfoy's unanticipated visit hinted at trouble—Draco, Lucius, or some undisclosed crisis was sure to ensue. An unsettling aura hung in the air, leaving Harry grappling with the ominous suspense of what awaited. Whatever it was, he didn't want Snape to be a part of it.

Just as Harry had resigned himself to dying in the corner and becoming one with the wall and his questions, he finally heard Narcissa's high heels click across the entryway of the home, making her way to the front wooden door. He could tell by the familiar sound of strong click-clacks that Snape was following closely behind.

Harry felt a brief thrill of relief followed by icy cold dread. Though he heard the front door open he couldn't make out what the pair were saying to each other.

Harry glanced over to his circular bedroom window.


"Thank you." Narcissa said quietly, her soft breaths billowing out in small puffs of the cold spring night.

Snape slowly rolled his eyes,"I shall do what I can, Narcissa; don't mistake this for charity, this is purely pragmatic."

"Whatever be your reasoning, I am grateful no less. He respects you far more than Lucius, Severus." Narcissa said quietly, slipping her slender hands deep into the pockets of her velvet coat.

Snape scoffed, he moved to speak but stopped abruptly when he felt a fair amount of rubble sprinkled onto his shoulder from somewhere above them.

Narcissa glanced up briefly, turning back down to give Snape a sly smile as they both caught sight of the circular window now propped open.

Narcissia let out a tiny chuckle at Snape's sour expression.

"See? Teenage boys, hero or not, they're all the same," she whispered to a very grim looking Snape.

"Run along, Narcissa," Snape said quickly, his tone laced with irritation.

"See you tomorrow." Narcissa said, giving Snape's arm a little squeeze as she turned on her pinpoint heel to leave.

Snape sighed, glaring up at the propped open window with great disdain.

Even when in trouble, Harry Potter could never, ever, stay out of trouble.

Resolute to drive some stinging sense into the young wizard, Snape firmly closed the heavy wooden door and locked it.