[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.
A bit more of a TW for this one: This chapter contains (in my opinion) an intense strapping scene w/ heavy emotions. If you're here for the Snape & Harry mentor side, this chapter might be not be your favorite. I will also note, this spanking scene is not CNC. It's a Non-consent spanking and there is a fair bit of discomfort and a bit of humiliation that may not be everyone's cup of tea. Though Narcissa and Draco have made an appearance in these last few chapters, and will surface again, I do plan to keep the primary emphasis on Snape & Harry. Le muse ran a little wild with this one but I hope you enjoy it just as much.
Chapter 19: The Strap
The metal knob on the polished bedroom door rattled loudly, clattering throughout the large room with spiking volume. Its desperate clinking reverberated throughout the cold corridors in the empty manor as Draco gave it another hard shake.
Narcissa pinched her eyes shut and wrapped her cloak tighter around her thin chest, breathing quietly from the other side of the door.
Her mascara had bled down her pale face from a few tears trickling out the corners of her hazel eyes.
"No, Mother, no please! You can't possibly allow him to do this to me!" Draco yelled at the locked bedroom door, pulling on the handle again with all his might.
Snape glared up at the ceiling, silently counting himself down from ten, hoping to conjure the patience not to strangle the insolent, manipulative, fool-hardy, spoiled, little prat.
"Mum!" Draco yelled again, his pitch spiking high in fervent desperation.
He pulled his battered fist up and pounded the door with a slew of heavy bangs.
"Draco Malfoy," Snape snapped, standing back up from the black velvet armchair. "Enough of this ridiculous display. Come to me."
Snape's gaze pierced Draco with an intensity that stole his breath. His stomach plummeted, and he swallowed hard. The words lingered, a stern command demanding unwavering obedience.
A brief, weighty silence engulfed the room, interrupted only by Draco's strained breaths. Despite fear gripping him, Draco defiantly clung to the doorknob, fingers clenched in a white-knuckled grip.
"No, no, no— Snape!" Draco shouted when Snape descended upon him in cold fury, wrapping an iron lock grip around his bicep. "No!"
Though Snape had insisted that his mother was out of the house, Draco knew better.
When he had tried to burst out the door the first time, he heard her cast the spell, locking him in from the outside.
He could hear her now, crying from the other side of the door– it was faint, quiet, but he could hear it.
Why was she doing this? How could she let this happen?
Draco dug his feet into the plush carpet lining of his room, dead weighing himself against the door as Snape tugged hard on his arm. He slid down the smooth wooden surface as if he'd been struck by an unforgivable curse.
"You're just going to let him hurt me?" Draco said softer, his nervous anticipation building as Snape tightened the painful grip on his arm.
"Please, Mum, don't do this. You don't understand—it's torture. You're condemning me to agony!"
Snape scoffed, gritting his teeth and yanking hard on Draco's writhing arm.
"My patience is far beyond spent, Draco. Every minute you resist is another minute you will spend on the receiving end of the strap. Get. Up. Now ." His voice was terrifyingly stern and cold, making Draco's stomach clench.
"No!" Draco shouted, yanking back with all his might.
He was mortified— terrified. This couldn't be happening to him, not now, not in his home, not at his bloody age. He wasn't going to accept it willingly , no matter how much his mother said he deserved it.
He pulled back harder as Snape yanked him again. His warm breath was spilling out in short huffs as he lay heavy against the door, cursing himself for giving his mother his wand earlier when she'd asked to inspect it for 'damage'.
Every part of Draco felt betrayed, how could she do this to him? This was a bloody set up!
Snape was growing more furious by the second.
In that moment he had to admit to himself that Harry took discipline far, far better than Draco. Snape grit his teeth and yanked the boy's arm again.
He had anticipated a show, but this was becoming a circus.
"This is your last opportunity to comply. Submit willingly, or I will make you." Snape finally said, moving his free hand to the fold of his cloak.
Draco's icy gray eyes met him in a blaze of petrified defiance. "No! I can't— I won't!"
That was the breaking point.
As soon as Snape withdrew his wand to cast him into a body bind, Narcissa burst into the room, a mix of sadness and determination etched across her tear-streaked face.
Shocking not only Draco, but Snape as well, Narcissa leaned down to grab hold of Draco's other arm.
"Up, Draco Malfoy," she said in a tone he hadn't heard in over a decade.
The action prompted Draco to scramble up to his feet, his breath coming out in little hitches as he complied. He backed up another long step away from Snape, tucking himself in closer to her side.
The next words out her mouth however, hit him harder than any curse could.
"Go to him, Draco. I will not stand for a moment more of this nonsense."
Draco's jaw dropped open as he head snapped away from Snape and onto her.
"Mother, please," Draco pleaded.
"No," Narcissa said firmly. "You could have killed yourself, and you will be punished properly for it."
Draco's icy gray eyes lost a flicker of their fire as he crossed his arms and glanced away. He dragged his toe into the plush carpet and drew in a shaky breath.
Snape's dark gaze continued to bore down on him as he tightened his fingers around the tip of his wand. He was impressed with Narcissa, a bit astonished, but impressed.
"You are fully aware that Wraith Elixir is forbidden," Narcissa continued, her voice firm. "I cannot fathom what possessed you to brew such a dangerous potion. Do you have a death wish?"
Draco's chest began to rise and fall, his anticipation climbing. Snape was bearing his black daggers for eyes into his soul, and his mother wasn't stopping him.
Snape watched Draco fidget in place, waiting a moment more to see if the young man would admit to his reasoning.
"It was an accident-" Draco tired but was cut off when Snape and Narcissa said sharply in unison:
"An accident ?"
Oh Merlin , Draco took in another shaky breath. He was beginning to feel cornered, like a field moose at the mercy of a hawk. Two hawks.
Snape scoffed, shaking his head, his patience wearing thin despite his promise to Narcissa that he would handle the situation delicately, a measure Draco scarcely deserved.
"Enough of this," Snape snapped, "tell your mother why you attempted to brew it. Be quick."
"You don't even know why!" Draco shot back, stepping away when he caught the fury in Snape's eye. "Unless you read my bloody mind," he muttered under his breath.
Narcissa looked at Snape, her tired eyes moving about his tight expression.
"I didn't need to read your mind to know what you were up to, you arrogant imbecile," Snape shot back, a wry edge to his voice as he forced himself to swallow his venomous temper. "Wraith Elixir separates the body from the soul, you were hoping to pass through a specific location undetected, were you not?"
Snape let his words remain vague, silently commanding Draco to elaborate.
Draco swallowed and glanced away.
How does he always know? Draco wondered while he rapidly tried to conjure up anything but the truth.
"What location?" Narcissa snapped at her son, giving him her best maternal glare.
They had attempted to talk Draco through this an hour ago but his lying and backpedaling had made the interrogation exhaustingly long. Rather than push, Narcissa took her cue to leave when Snape withdrew the strap. The action, no surprise to anyone, prompted an emotional upheaval from Draco that she wasn't keen on hearing.
Draco's mind spun with possibilities, he wanted to lie again but he hardly could. Snape knew, he always fucking knew.
"Azkaban," Draco finally gave up and whispered, dropping his eyes away from his mothers.
"Azkaban?" Narcissa questioned, keeping her emotions suppressed despite the sharp pain in her chest at the admission.
Snape was hardly proud of Draco at that moment, but he was pleased to finally gain a modicum of compliance from the foolish boy.
"I made a mistake, okay?" Draco lifted his hands up and backed another step away. "Please mum, just make him leave. I-I'll tell you the whole thing."
Snape's dark eyes narrowed, Draco was pushing dangerously far today. If they were alone, back in the dungeons of Hogwarts, this would have already been over and dealt with. In fact, by this point, Draco would have earned himself a stern reminder spanking on the importance of compliance in the face of discipline before he retired to his dorm for the evening.
"You can tell me," Narcissa started, giving Draco a false sense of hope. "Either now, or after Severus is through with you."
For the first time, tears welled up in Draco's gray eyes, "Mother…"
Snape deemed it time to intervene again, he had to get back to Harry, who was undoubtedly occupying himself with questionable things, and this robust, inexcusable, show of defiance had already stretched well past an hour.
"Enough pleading with your mother. It is time to face the consequences of your moronic actions," Snape declared, narrowing the distance between them.
He seized Draco's arm again, just below the shoulder, his grip like iron. "Now, come," he commanded, shoving Draco firmly toward the awaiting black chair.
Draco cast one more pleading look to his mother, but was sickened by the unwavering firmness he found in her hazel eyes.
His chest flooded with a slew of fear and betrayal.
Draco groaned, yet despite the shove he remained rooted in place, refusing to move.
Snape's temper hit its boiling point at the sheer defiance.
In a fast second he abruptly turned Draco to the side, pulled his wand back high and administered six full strength smacks to the back of Draco's trouser clad upper thighs.
"Owww!" Draco yelled, writhing in Snape's grasp. "Okay! S-stop! Ow— I'll GO!"
Snape tightened his grip on Draco's arm, his voice a low, menacing whisper as he pulled Draco's ear to his lips. "I have been excessively patient with you, control your emotions and proceed with respect or face the severe consequence of defying me, Draco Malfoy."
Screwing his eyes shut and grinding his heel into the ground Draco moaned as he shifted his legs back and forth.
His thighs stung so bad, this was already horrible .
Narcissa wrapped her cloak closer to her chest, forcing herself to remain firm. He needs this, she reminded herself, he could be dead.
Fearing more preliminary smacks, Draco finally moved his anxious feet in step with Snape's.
His icy eyes darted to the strap laying next to the burnt potions book.
His stomach gyrated in terror; his mouth grew dry, and his breath became hard to catch. Snape had threatened him with the strap over the years, but he'd never been on the receiving end of it.
Quickly, his thoughts returned to the whispers about the pain of it, lapping around the Slytherin House every few months or so. Goyle had received it once for sneaking a girl into the forbidden forest. Apparently, it was worse than he could've imagined. He talked about it like a war story, telling everyone the strap had brought him to the brink of death and left him sore for weeks on end.
Draco swallowed hard. He was more than scared; he was terrified of the pain. He was angry too—furious with his father, betrayed by his mother, and loathing Severus Snape with every fiber of his being.
By the time they reached the black velvet armchair, Draco felt like running again as he watched Snape take a seat. His wide eyes shot back to the bedroom door but paused on the sight of his mother.
She looked so… sad. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and her eyes looked vacant as she stared out his large bedroom window. The muted trickles of sunlight illuminated the dark stains of makeup etched under her eyes. Amidst the heavy combination of anger and fear, Draco suddenly felt a small twinge of guilt stab his quivering stomach.
He didn't have long to ruminate in it though, as Snape yanked him to the side of the armless chair and moved to unfasten his trousers.
In a snap Draco was brought back to the present moment. He hunched over violently, his hands grabbing at Snape's as he tried to step back. "No, no! Wait!" He shouted, pulling hard in protest.
Snape glared up, holding tight to the waistband of his trousers, "Draco M—"
"She has to leave first!" Draco yelled, battling Snape's hands at the waistband of his trousers.
The pair struggled for a brief second before Draco heard her soft voice:
"I'll be staying, honey," Narcissa said calmly, turning to face them. "Severus won't always be around to punish you, I need a proper demonstration for next time you behave poorly."
Draco's mouth dropped open as he froze in utter horror.
There was no way, no bloody way this was actually happening to him right now.
Snape used the momentary break in struggle to his advantage, shoving Draco's hands out of the way, and popping the metal clasp of his trousers. He turned the boy sharply so that his backside faced his mother rather than his front. Then, in one fluid motion, Draco was bared from the waist down.
Draco gasped sharply, pulling his stunned attention away from his mother and down to Snape. He immediately moved to cover himself but lost his balance as Snape pulled him forward.
With a final yank, Draco fell in a heap across Snape's firm thighs, letting out a breathless "umph" as he did.
Draco moaned loudly, covering his horribly flushed face with his hands, trembling as he felt Snape secure his legs with his own.
"I hate you both," Draco shot out, humiliation coursing through every part of him as waves of fear flooded his body. "I'm never ever talking to you again, Severus, or you, Mother ."
Narcissa glanced away, fresh tears sprung back to the corners of her makeup stained eyes.
Snape on the other hand glowered, piercing his dark gaze into the back of the blonde's head.
Insolent little prat, Snape thought to himself as he took a minute to adjust Draco's position. He would never stand for this at Hogwarts, never. Not once had Draco possessed the sheer nerve to fight a punishment to this obscene extent. It was only out of respect for Narcissa's state of mind that Snape forced himself to remain so collected and exceedingly patient.
He grabbed the young wizard's pale waist, his potion stain palms encompassing Draco's hips, and he pushed him forward, shifting his backside to a better angle.
Draco squirmed hard and sucked in a sharp breath, he hated this.
In that tense, horrible moment, Draco decided this was the worst thing he'd ever gone through in his entire life. Remorse of his actions had disappeared, replaced by a vivid onslaught of anger. He would never forgive his mother for this brutal stab of betrayal.
Once Snape had Draco where he wanted him, he said low and stern: "Your hands, Draco."
Draco moaned, an audible protest against the inevitable. After a tense moment, he reluctantly slid his hands to the base of his back, knowing Snape would pin them there.
Bitter resentment surged through him, as it did with each spanking – a silent curse against Snape, who, since the incident where he had punched him in the leg five years ago, insisted on this patronizing routine. Every spanking since then had become a reminder of the time he lost his privilege to free arms and was now forced to be fully restrained for punishments.
Snape took a moment to hike Draco's cashmere sweater up his back and out of the way, then with his left hand he clasped Draco's waiting wrists, firmly pushing them down into place.
Given the intensity of the strap, Snape had decided to give Draco a lengthy, proper warm up first, hoping to break down some of his defiance in the process.
Snape shot a final glance up at Narcissa, content to see her watching with an air of maternal strength rather than ill placed pity.
He pulled his hand up high and brought it down in a sharp, stinging smack.
"AH!" Draco's sharp cry echoed through the room, a haunting symphony of pain lingered in the air as the first of many red marks blossomed across his flinching bum.
The bright afternoon sunlight began to fade, casting a serene glow on Snape's property. As the evening slowly approached, Ron and Harry engaged in a playful duel— shooting out vibrant spells and teasing each other after every burst from their wands.
Despite moments of electrified focus, Harry found himself distracted, glancing around the property every few minutes.
His sparkling emerald eyes traversed the lush landscape, his gaze shifting from the back door behind Ron to the front of the house. Despite the late hour, there was still no sign of Snape.
Harry had finished his chores early, completed his essays, despite endless questions from Ron, and even made a couple of sandwiches for lunch.
Yet, despite the best distractions the day had offered, he couldn't tear his thoughts away from the idea that Draco— spoiled Draco Malfoy, of all people— might be getting that dreaded strap, for something he desperately wanted to know about.
Draco getting spanked made no sense to him; he could hardly believe Snape would follow through with it. While he knew Slytherins were subject to Snape's strict disciplinary style, the idea of Malfoy receiving it baffled him.
Harry wished he could theorize about it with Ron but there was no way to broach the subject without exposing his own fate under Snape's firm hand. Sure, eventually he'd tell him, they were best mates after all, but not today. If Ron found out now, there would be no redemption for the former Potions Master in his loyal eyes.
Ron shot out another spell, a crack of vibrant color escaping the tip of his wand, Harry barely moved in time to deflect it. The sharp snap broke him free from his wandering thoughts.
Ron laughed, "Lost your touch, huh mate? It's alright, I go easier on ya."
"Try me me again!" Harry yelled across the back yard, refocusing his attention on the playful duel at hand.
Before Ron could cast the next spell, Harry shot Ron's wand out of his hand with lightning speed, disarming him with ease.
"Hey!" Ron yelled, casting Harry a tight glare from across the yard. "I wasn't ready!"
Harry chuckled and shoved his wand into his front pocket.
"Oh, you weren't? Sorry about that!"
A mischievous smile pulled up the corners of his mouth as strolled over to Ron.
"Oh no ya don't," Ron said pointing his wand back at Harry. "Get back over there, you can't win on a cheat like that."
"Let's pause a second, yeah?" Harry said, reaching Ron and peering around him.
Ron turned to look where Harry's gaze lingered.
"He's not back yet," Ron said, his eyes following Harry's to the back porch of the house.
"Trust me, I'm keeping a sharp lookout so I can jump on my broom the minute I see his greasy black hair." Ron said as he slid his own wand into his pocket.
"Ah, come on." Harry tried for the second time that day. "Just stay for dinner."
"No way!" Ron snapped back, he had no intention of sharing a meal near Snape, invited to it or not. The space between him and the bat at the teachers table in the dining hall was close enough.
"You're sure we have to wait on the sleeping draughts?" Ron asked, redirecting the conversation back to a topic they'd flushed out for hours earlier that day.
Harry took a sharp breath in and nodded. His green gaze lingered under the deep circles beneath Ron's eyes. He was filled with a mixture of emotions thinking back to their plan— caught between a deep desire to help Ron finally get some sleep and an utter terror at facing Snape's wrath for breaking and entering his potions storage.
All day his thoughts wandered back to the sensation of the paddle pressed against his thoroughly whacked backside last night as Snape had warned him of the strapping that would ensue for further missteps. It made his stomach roll and for the first time, the consequence of his impending action rivaled his desire to follow through with it.
Harry refocused and gave Ron an apologetic look, "Yeah sorry, mate. I think he was going into town to get ingredients for stuff, he's bound to know if I swipe them tonight."
Ron signed but nodded, he didn't want to wait three weeks to be able to sleep, but it was his only option since his family was leaving tomorrow for their memorial trip for Fred.
"You're sure he won't notice the replacements?" Ron asked, his desire for the potions clashing with his concern for Harry if Snape found out. Those essays looked exhaustingly long from the brief peek he was allowed to take at them.
Harry sucked in another little breath, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he glanced over to the stone wall encompassing the potions storage. His face in a pensive line.
It wasn't a matter of if Snape found out, but when Snape found out. Harry knew he couldn't hide it from him for long, but he'd practically come to terms with it. He owed Ron the favor, the man needed sleep.
"No, I'll make sure they look the same." Harry reassured him.
"You don't have to ya know," Ron tried for a third time that evening, "seriously, I should do it myself, then you could play it off like you were clueless."
Harry shook his head, he didn't know what Snape would do if he found out Ron had stolen from him, but he didn't want to put Ron at risk— not with everything he'd gone through.
"No, trust me," Harry said, crossing his arms. "It's better if I do it."
The once bright bedroom now lay bathed in shadows as the last lights of the spring sun receded. A somber tension filled the air, accompanied by Draco's harsh, wracked sobs as he trembled over Snape's knees.
Narcissa was no longer watching; her glossy red nails swept past the corners of her eyes as she continued to release the pent-up emotions swirling within her chest at the sound of Draco's broken cries. She stared out the window, dreading the end of the night.
Snape glanced down at the crying boy over his knee. Per usual, Draco had taken the hand spanking with as little discretion as humanly possible, jerking and bellowing with every smack. However, as Snape brought down the last hard round of blistering smacks, he felt the shift in Draco's cries, signifying a switch from theatrics to genuine discomfort.
Draco hung his head, sobbing fervently, his shoulders trembling from the intensity of Snape's hand and the embarrassment of having his mother watch.
It hurt; Snape's hand always did. But having his mother there listening— looking, not helping, had amplified his emotions to an extensive height.
Draco's initial surge of fury had ebbed into distress, and his balled-up fists trapped behind his back were now open, holding tightly to Snape's potion-stained palm.
With each hard smack, he had felt less angry and more broken.
He had felt broken for weeks, furious with his father for putting this unbearable weight on their shoulders. Once blinded by influence, Draco now saw the situation for what it was. How dare he involve them with the Dark Lord. It didn't matter that Voldemort was dead now, thanks to him, everything had changed for the worse. Draco hated how the manor, once filled with fond memories from his childhood, now felt like a tomb of darkness and suffering.
Snape released Draco's wrists, pausing for a moment to offer a few consoling pats to his back.
Draco's bum was thoroughly smacked, sporting a deep red hue stretching from the top of his punished skin to the center of his soft white thighs.
Every spanking Draco walked away with red thighs. He couldn't help but buck hard and flail, earning those searing extra smacks every single time.
Draco cried for a minute more as Snape soothed him but the moment Snape shifted, his stomach tightened up in an apprehensive knot.
"Get up, Draco," Snape instructed, his voice carrying the same measured, stern tone. "It's time for the strap."
Draco sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head.
"Oh no— no, n-not that!" He pleaded through tears, a renewed vigor coming over him, stirred by intense fear as Snape pulled him to his feet.
"I-I-I w-won't do it againnn! P-please Snape, d-don't." His face was flushed red covered in wet tears, "I learned, I-I don't need i-it."
Instead of responding, Snape merely pulled the sobbing blonde with him to the end of the bed.
Without releasing Draco's arm, Snape propped his boot clad foot on the bottom of the gleaming metal frame. He was standing in front of the bed with his left thigh pulled up just enough for Draco to bend over it.
Snape leaned over and grabbed the handle of the strap, causing Draco to moan and twist against his grip.
Draco's stomach plummeted when the long piece of leather licked across the burnt potions book as Snape pulled it up from its resting place on the black velvet comforter.
Draco yanked back against Snape's iron tight grip again, his tear-laced sobs picking up in intensity.
"Enough! Look at me," Snape commanded, prompting Draco to still and look up.
"I will not be able to hold both your hands and waist while I discipline you," Snape leveled Draco with an unwavering dark look. "Will you be able to keep your hands in front or must I bind them now?"
"S-Snape, p-please!" Draco let out another pitiful cry, pulling back again through a fit of renewed sobs.
Narcissa's chest clenched tight at hearing Draco's desperate plea. Unlike before, she knew he was no longer putting on a show. She ran her red nails across the soft velvet fabric of the chair, taking a deep breath, attempting to steal her resolve not to intervene.
"Silence," Snape commanded, effortlessly pulling the crying boy closer. Lowering his tone, he continued, "I'd like to see some courage from you, young man. This is not befitting behavior for someone so justly deserving of punishment."
Draco's harsh sobs quieted, if only a bit, as his cloudy eyes bore down into the velvet comforter. He despised every second of this ordeal, hating it with every fiber of his being. Yet, deep down, he knew Snape was right. His thoughts raced back to the night of the explosion, briefly flickering between the blaze of the fire and the intense fear in his mother's voice. He was lucky to have even made it out of the shed in time before the whole thing blew.
Accepting punishments was never his forte, but a small part of him yearned to prove himself to his Head of House. Slytherins were supposed to be resilient.
Beyond this torment of a punishment, Snape had saved him that day on the tower, doing what he couldn't bring himself to. Unlike others, Snape embodied a courage that surpassed anyone he knew. Deep down he wished he could possess even a small amount of it.
Reflecting, Draco acknowledged that, without Snape, the Dark Lord might have killed or tortured him. He felt not only guilty for his actions but indebted to the man, compelling him to calm down and try to obey.
"Now," Snape said, bringing Draco back to the present as he ushered him in place to bend over his thigh. "I will implore you once more, will you manage to restrain yourself or need I bind you?"
With no word from his silent mother behind him, and a desire to prove himself to Snape, Draco finally resigned himself to his fate.
"F-fine. I-I'll t-try," Draco whispered through tears as he focused on catching his breath.
"No," Snape corrected, tightening his grip on Draco's arm. "Not 'try,' Draco. Say, 'I will, sir.' and mean it, young man."
Draco nodded, holding the front hem of his blue cashmere shirt, squeezing the fabric tight as he tried to steady himself for a response.
His bum throbbed and he was terrified for how much worse it was sure to feel.
"I-I, I will, s-sir." Draco stammered out, sucking in a tight breath as Snape nodded and guided him forward into position.
The center of Draco's stomach pressed down first over Snape's propped leg; it was uncomfortable and tight, so he maneuvered himself forward— getting his hips settled over Snape's solid thigh.
His breath was hitched, coming out in nervous little stops as he crossed his arms and dropped his trembling blonde head between them.
A tense hush came over the room filled only with the nervous sputters from Draco's previous sobs.
Narcissa was silent, tracing her red nail over her protruding collar bone as she watched with a broken stare.
Snape tightened his strong arm around Draco's waist, slipping his warm hand just beneath the side of Draco's quivering hip as he braced him tight.
"I expect far better out of you, Draco Malfoy." Snape scolded, hoping to instill responsibility into the boy he'd watched grow up for years. "After all we've endured, especially after the war, how dare you dabble in the Dark Arts willingly, forbidden potions no less. Do you realize the risks involved beyond the damage you inflicted to your family's property? The consequences could be catastrophic, not just for you but for those around you. This kind of recklessness is unacceptable. It will not happen again, and I will not permit it, nor will your mother."
Draco choked on a few shaky breaths, nodding his hanging head between his arms.
Steeling himself, Snape pulled the strap back to an appropriate height. Feeling the shift under his hips, Draco let out a fresh sob, crossing his arms in even tighter and screwing his eyes shut.
The strap whipped down in a biting crack that reverberated throughout the massive bedroom.
Nothing in the world could have prepared Draco for the pain that followed.
He jerked with such violent force Snape nearly dropped him, prompting Narcissa to shoot up to her feet immediately.
"AH!" Draco writhed and kicked, finally able to form a word through the searing pain.
As Snape had anticipated, Draco flailed his body, pulling his right hand back to pry hard at Snape's grip on his trembling hip.
Resilience and courage could bugger off, he couldn't handle this. He wouldn't.
"Oh no, no! P-please, please! I can't! I-I can't!" Draco bellowed as Snape tightened his grip.
"Wait, Severus," Narcissa said as Snape moved to withdraw his wand from his pocket.
Snape let out a tense breath, giving her an exhausted expression as he held down the writhing, sobbing young wizard.
Narcissa glanced at the dark red stripe now prominent in the center of Draco's spanked bum. It looked painful, but thankfully, not nearly as vicious as Draco's cries made it sound.
She pulled her shoulders back and steadied her hands as she walked over to Draco's bent frame.
"M-mum-m," Draco sobbed, when he felt her comforting hand settle on his trembling back, "I-I, pleas-s-e, pleeeaase."
"Shh," Narcissa murmured, running her hand up and down his spine. "You're doing so well, so well. It'll be through soon."
Her soft, tender voice made Draco sob harder as he moved to grab hold of her arm.
"Would you like mummy to hold your hands?" Her voice came out in a near whisper, eliciting a harsh sob from Draco.
He nodded his head fervently and kept his blurry eyes pinched shut.
Draco hardly cared about his pride anymore, if she wasn't going to stop the pain then he needed her support to endure it. He wanted this horrible experience to end so badly.
Narcissa nodded, she swept off some of the lingering ash from the burnt potions book and took a seat on the velvet comforter.
She opened her slender, warm palms and Draco took them quickly.
She glanced down at the battered marks on his knuckles, forcing herself to remember the terror she felt when she heard the explosion and saw the bright orange flames climb high into the dark night air. She pinched her eyes shut and focused on the sheer horror she experienced while she screamed for Draco, thinking she'd lost him.
Snape sucked in an undetectably small breath of his own. He forcefully pushed away the torrent of emotions the unexpected, tender display prompted, making himself focus solely on the discipline at hand— nothing more.
Snape cleared his throat and tightened his grip on Draco's back again.
"Ten, Draco." Snape said sharply, his tone lacking any hint of the discomfort he felt. "Count them out."
Draco's broken 'yes, sir' was so quiet Snape barely heard it.
The next crack of the strap smacked down quickly, eliciting a violent jerk from Draco as his anguished cry pierced the heavy air with pained remorse.
He tightened his grip on his mother's hands, kicking his feet.
It took him a long moment to stop gasping and catch his breath before he gritted out a shaky: "O-one, s-s-sir."
Snape nodded, and pulled the strap back up again.
His expression remained stern, unmoved, as he delivered the next punishing blow. The strap cracked sharply, eliciting another heart-wrenching sob from Draco.
"AH!" He screamed, his voice strained with pain. "Owww- uh- t-two, sir,"
Narcissa's heart sank low as she held Draco's quivering hands, rubbing her thumb soothingly across the top of his trembling skin.
The room echoed with Draco's pain laced cries as each subsequent strike Snape brought down made him scream, the intensity escalating with every count.
Snape maintained his slow and deliberate pace. Narcissa could feel Draco's desperate grip on her hands tighten after each agonizing impact.
"T-Three, s-sir! AH! Four, sir! S-Snape, OW!" Draco's counting became more erratic, interjected with vivid pleas for mercy. He kicked his feet, trying his best to mitigate the horrible, searing pain engulfing his tender spanked bum.
Narcissa welled up with fresh tears, mirroring the anguish etched across Draco's face. She whispered down words of comfort, trying to absorb some of his pain through the connection of their hands.
The strap continued its merciless descent, and Draco's sobs grew more desperate. His count wavered, the numbers blending with inconsolable cries. Snape continued on, determined to enforce the discipline, while Narcissa held Draco's hands, a silent witness to his torment.
"S-S-Seven, sir—owww! Eight, s-sir! Ow, ow, ow! P-Pleaseee s-stop!" Draco's begging for support merged into a heartbreaking chorus, his body shuddering with every sob as he held her hands tightly.
As the ninth strike lashed down, Draco's piercing cry reached a crescendo. His grip on Narcissa's hands was almost crushing, seeking solace in the only source of comfort within his reach.
"Nine. Breath, Draco." He heard Snape count for him. "One more. We are nearly through."
All the fight in Draco melted into the stream of guilt ridden sobs. His body lay slack and his sweaty hands stayed tightly gripped around his mothers.
Lying there in throbbing, searing pain, he pondered the aftermath of the explosion he had caused once again—vividly recalling the shattered cries in his mother's voice as they extinguished the flames with spells. She had embraced him tightly, but all he could focus on at that moment was the rage within him, not the impact he had made.
Reflecting on the mix of fear and disappointment he had seen in her eyes that night, a profound sense of remorse washed over him for the pain he had added to her life in recent weeks. In that tense, broken moment, he made a solemn vow to stop being so self absorbed and grow into a better person for her.
Narcissa looked up at Snape with tear-clouded, pleading eyes.
Snape rubbed his thumb on Draco's hip for a moment then said in a clear, unwavering tone:
"Today marks the end of your association with the Dark Arts, Draco Malfoy. You were destined for far greater pursuits. Take heed of how you feel in this moment, for if any whisper reaches me of your entanglement with forbidden potions again, consider this punishment merciful in comparison to what will follow. "
Draco hiccuped a few times, nodding his bent head quickly as he squeezed his mothers hands. The top of his bum to the center of his thighs ached with a pain he could hardly tolerate. He couldn't fathom anything more dreadful, and he vowed never to engage in such foolish actions again.
"I-I'm s-o s-sorry." Draco choked out through healing tears.
Snape pulled the strap back for a final time, and paused.
"And you listen to me, confronting your father in prison won't alleviate the pain he's caused you and your mother." Snape added, making Narcissa's face flood with more anguish.
"You need to grasp that this endeavor only jeopardizes your safety. It won't alter the past. Taking such a risk would only put your life in danger, and you must never do that again. Is that perfectly clear?"
"I-it is, s-sir." Draco said adamantly, holding his breath for the last stroke.
Snape brought it down hard and fast, making it the worst one yet. Draco shook his head, gripping his mothers hands tightly through the pain as he let out a final anguished cry through clenched teeth.
"Ten." Snape's voice cut through the room, halting the punishment. He dropped the strap on the bed and moved to rub Draco's lower back.
Draco, breathless and broken, clung to his mother's hands as Snape rubbed soothing circles all over his trembling back.
He had never experienced such vivid, hot pain radiating over his bum the way it did in that moment. He had to be bruised, he thought, probably bloody too.
Narcissa's heart ached as she looked into Draco's tear-streaked face, her hands still cradling his shaking ones.
The room, heavy with the aftermath of pain, held a fragile stillness as Snape assessed the impact of the discipline he had administered.
Draco's bum was striped with red, ugly lines, but as Snape ran his hand down it in a quick pass, he was relieved to feel no hard abrasions to the skin. He doubted the last strike, despite its intensity, would even welt. Draco would be sore for the night, but he would make a fast recovery.
After a few moments of raspy sobbing Draco found his breath, "I-I'm so, s-so sorry, mum." He said quietly as he released her hands.
Narcissa nodded, pulling her hand up to Draco's bent, sweat laced neck, "I am too."
Snape paused the comforting circles, pulling his brow up at the words and giving Narcissa a pensive look.
"Not for arranging your punishment," she clarified to the both of them, "but for not stepping in when our involvement with the Dark Lord started. I should have gotten you out of this place when I had the chance, Draco. I should have taken you away from it all." Narcissa's voice cracked as she finally let go of the guilt she'd been holding close to her chest.
Snape felt Draco push up against him so he moved to help the boy down, dropping his leg and stabilizing Draco's arm. I n an effort to save the boy's modesty, Snape swiftly repositioned Draco's boxer pants as he helped him to stand.
The minute Draco was on his feet again, he dropped down to envelop his mother in a tight embrace.
Snape rolled his sleeve down on his right arm and walked away, giving the pair a private moment to connect. He withdrew his wand and tapped the lanterns on Draco's end table, igniting them to warm life.
Snape flicked his wand again and a stream of the elegantly long candles gracing the marble shelves in the room flickered in a burst of soft light.
While Draco and his mother soaked in the catharsis of forgiveness and tender comfort, Snape's thoughts drifted back to Harry and his own feelings over the last few days.
Discipline had always been a hard necessity in his life, but never before had he experienced such a torrent of emotions while administering it. He reasoned that, perhaps in part, the closing of the war and the subsequent easing of life-threatening pressure allowed him to feel the discomfort that accompanied the resolve to see such punishments through.
Over the last few days, he found himself confronting a uproar of buried emotion while punishing Harry and now Draco, engaged in a battle with suppressed feelings that he had shut out long ago.
As he glanced back to the pair briefly, watching Narcissa run her hand up and down Draco's back, Snape thought of Lily.
Harry was more than deserving of the same tenderness, yet he hardly felt his attempt at consolation could match what hers would have been in such moments.
Then, just when the cold grip of guilt threatened to plunge him down further into a flurry of self doubt, Narcissa caught his eye, mouthing a simple, soft: thank you.
When Snape's dark gaze received the gesture, a fleeting moment of respite washed over him. It was as if, in her acknowledgment, he found a brief pause in the relentless start of guilt that threatened to drown him. For a heartbeat, Narcissa's gratitude resonated with an imagined echo of Lily's approval – a quiet reassurance that, perhaps, providing structure and discipline was a form of care, even if his came veiled in strictness.
Snape gave her a small nod and interlaced his fingers behind his back.
Draco let out a spent sigh. Giving his mother one last tight hug, he stood and turned around to face Snape.
His red rimmed eyes and tearstained face looked a bit shy as he dropped his icy gray gaze to the plush carpet.
Narcissa rose as well and pressed a gentle kiss to Draco's forehead before gracefully exiting the room, leaving them alone to converse in her absence. Relieved to have it behind her, she was determined to shower Draco with as much love as possible that evening.
The soft click of the closing door echoed in the room as they both observed her departure. A moment later, Snape's dark gaze shifted back to Draco, and he approached slowly, closing the distance between them
Draco kept his eyes down for a moment, his backside had never hurt so bad in his entire life and he suddenly felt a swell of deep embarrassment over his performance of sorts.
After a moment of charged silence Draco glanced up at Snape.
"So, uh, how'd I do compared to Goyle?" He asked, his cheeks flushing in a wave of embarrassment as he spoke.
The question took Snape off guard. He lifted a brow down to the blonde.
"What exactly are you referring to?"
"Goyle," Draco reiterated, "you know, when you thrashed him for sneaking a girl out into the forbidden forest. Did he holler worse than me?"
Snape raised both his brows at the redirection of the conversation, considering Draco's question for a moment.
"I believe Mr. Goyle misled you on the consequences he received for that infraction." Snape admitted, almost smiling at the way Draco seemed to bristle up in annoyance.
"What'd you mean? He said you nearly killed him with that thing," Draco pointed at the menacing strap on his bed as he pulled his hands up to his hips.
"Certainly not. Due to the Headmaster's intervention, he only received a round with the paddle for that ridiculous stunt, not the strapping it warranted."
Snape watched with mild amusement as Draco's face contorted in disgust.
"That lying little weasel ." Draco spat, making Snape actually smile a bit.
His Slytherins would never change.
"Aside from your musings regarding Mr. Goyle's infraction, are you quite alright?" Snape asked in his typical, neutral tone.
A small silence hung in the warm room, the honey golden glow illuminating the velvet furnishings and luxurious items strewn about the space as Draco thought for a moment.
"No." Draco finally said, blushing a little as he stared at the carpet.
"No?" Snape repeated, lifting a brow up at him.
"Yeah, no . I'm never going to be able to sit down again, thanks." Draco grumbled as he pulled his hands back to give his sore bum a rub.
Snape scoffed.
"In all my years of administering discipline, Draco, no one has ever put on a display that rivals yours."
Draco scrunched his nose up and frowned.
"Well, that's because you only go after us Slytherins. Maybe if you'd smack Weasley or Potter for once , I wouldn't seem so dramatic."
Snape rolled his eyes, despite Harry's tumble off his lap yesterday morning, nothing the boy had done could hold a candle to the circus of insolence Draco had just put on. He doubted Weasley would have the sheer nerve to put up such a fuss either.
But, he humored the boy nevertheless.
"Perhaps." Snape lied.
Draco huffed and uncrossed his arms, taking a minute to reflect before saying a very quiet, "Thank you, Snape… for everything."
Snape replied with a slow nod, truly impressed with the sentiment. While he knew Draco was referring to more than just the discipline, a thanks following a spanking was a first for the boy. No less than a year ago, Draco had stormed out of his office after a paddling and refused to speak to him unless required to for days on end— casting sharp icy glares at him whenever he got the chance. Now, here he was, expressing some gratitude and showcasing a glimmer of newfound maturity.
"Anytime, Mr. Malfoy. I shall be available all summer to reel you back in." Snape replied, smirking a bit at the red hue flooding Draco's face.
Draco sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes.
"Great... well actually, better you than my mother," he muttered back. "Snape, you've got to talk her out of that. I don't want her to… that's too embarrassing. Completely inappropriate really."
Snape snorted, teenage boys were so fickle with their egos. "Then behave yourself."
Draco scoffed and glanced over to the bed, he moved quickly to grab the burnt potions book and handed it back to Snape.
"Here," he said, "I never want to see this again."
Snape nodded and tapped the book with his wand. The pair watched it disappear into thin air.
"Would you like a hug?" Snape offered a moment later, watching Draco's face twist up in shock.
"Wha—uh, well…" Draco stuttered, completely taken back by the gesture.
Snape opened his arms, just slightly, extending an offer he hadn't done since Draco was just a small boy.
Draco swallowed and glanced down, but sheepishly took a step forward and fell into the comforting embrace.
Snape patted his back a few times, hugging him close and allowing the moment to stretch in the soft glow of the bedroom. Draco buried his head into Snape's shoulder and took in a deep, cleansing breath.
After a comforting minute or so, Draco pulled back.
"Why do you smell like bloody flowers now?" He suddenly asked, stepping out of the embrace.
Snape frowned.
"Perhaps you are detecting fresh clippings of lavender, used for tea."
Draco could help but snort then laugh loudly, prompting Snape to scoff and lightly smack him upside the head.
"Hand me the strap," Snape said after a moment, extending his potion stained palm.
Draco grimaced, his laughing slowing to a prompt halt.
"I was only teasing!" He said, taking a precautionary step back.
Snape glowered at the blonde, "I need to take it home, Draco. It's late."
"Oh, right, 'course. " Draco said, forcing himself to pick it up and hand it over quickly.
Snape took the strap and folded it, stowing it away in the depth of his dark trouser pocket.
"What's the rush?" Draco asked as Snape moved to exit. "You could stay for a bit."
Snape shook his head and swung the bedroom door open.
"Well Mr. Malfoy, I hate to be the one to dampen your vibrant spirit with this earth-shattering news, but Harry Potter is at my home, up to no good—no doubt," Snape said over his shoulder as he moved out the bedroom doorway.
"What?!" Draco shouted, moving abruptly after Snape but stopping to gasp at the pain radiating from his backside.
He paused for a minute to rub his bum before charging back out of his room a little stiffly.
"Potter is living with you?!" Draco shot out after Snape, hurrying to catch up. His warm bare feet met the cold marble in a slick hurry.
"Indeed." Snape replied, moving with measured precision down the cascade of elegant stairs, his shoes clacking throughout the empty stairwell.
"Woah, wait! Hold on, Snape!" Draco's tone spiked in pitch making Snape grit his teeth. "He doesn't know why you came here, right?!"
Snape abruptly turned on his heel, nearly colliding with Draco on the grand staircase in the process.
"No, Draco. I did not consult him or ask for his intimate advice before coming here to spank you." Snape snapped, giving Draco a look that told him to quiet down.
"Okay," Draco said slowly with a little flush creeping up his neck. "Well… good."
Snape nodded, meeting Narcissa at the bottom of the wide staircase.
"I need a word with your mother." Snape said, shewing the blonde off with a wave. "When I return next, every piece of that explosion better be cleaned up. Do it by hand, no magic. Understood?"
"Yes, sir." Draco grumbled, turning to leave for the dining room. "Snape?"
"What?" Snape asked, pulling his gaze away from Narcissa.
"Does Harry, erm, Potter know you have that strap?" Draco asked.
Narcissa suppressed a little smile as she recalled the look on Harry's face after defying Snape last night. Remembering the faint smacks that had rang out down the stairs not long after the boys ascended the staircase.
Snape sighed in response.
More than a twinge of apprehension had grabbed hold of Draco at the possibility of Harry knowing he was still spanked by Snape, especially at their age. Then, at the same time, he also felt a little sense of curiosity wash over him at the thought of Harry living with Snape… maybe…
"That is none of your business. We've concluded this conversation, Draco. Make yourself scarce and be good for your mother this week." Snape commanded, refusing to give any information.
The boys would have to discover his approach to their discipline on their own; he simply refused to place himself in the middle of their life long rivalry and all the drama that would surely ensue if he did.
Draco sighed but nodded, turning around with a hint of satisfaction at the vague response.
Snape was a hard ass when it came to rules— leaving little doubt in Draco's mind over what Harry had to be up against.
A satisfied smirk drew up the corners of Draco's mouth, like a cat who'd caught the famous canary as he moved through the dark manor.
Maybe he'd have to pay Potter a little visit tomorrow.
Well, a bit of a wild ride of a chapter, but I hope it was a good one for you. Looking forward to introducing Draco and Harry's confrontation soon! They have a little more in common now, yeah? ;) Much love to each and everyone of you, I'll be back next Sunday for another post. Thank you for such kind words (as always, Hamlet), I am touched by your compliments over my writing style! It is so encouraging to hear that the dialogue I craft mixed with the lengthier descriptions work well- ah yay! I appreciate you. Goldflame, I'm delighted to know that you're enjoying the progression of Snape & Harry's relationship! I hope you liked this last one, I appreciate your kind words and thoughts s'much. MusicMelis, I'm so glad you felt for Narcissa in the last chapter. It was a challenge for her in this one too! She loves Draco but he was off the rails a bit. Thank you for your reflections on last chapter and kind words!
