Ron paused outside Snape’s quarters, fighting down an almost-overwhelming need to sick up. The other night, after returning with the Dreamless Sleep potion and finding Ron frozen in place, Snape had informed Ron that his detention would start the following evening at seven.

Ron knew perfectly well what he was referring to, but of course Harry hadn’t and he had assumed that Snape was punishing Ron for his nightmare and disturbing Snape’s rest. There had been quite a lot of shouting between the two of them before Ron had finally burst out with, “Shut it, Harry! This is for when I punched him in Dumbeldore’s office, all right? He – he put it off for a while because he and the Headmaster were too busy figuring out who was after you for him to supervise detentions.”

Both stared at him as if he had sprouted two heads, then Harry had blushed and started to apologize to Snape. Snape brushed aside the apology and rather cuttingly asked if they were done invading his quarters and shrieking at him, and they had quickly found themselves trudging through dark halls back to the Gryffindor Tower.

Happily Harry didn’t wonder why the punishment had been so delayed. He was too busy worrying if he had hurt Snape’s feelings. “Are you mental?” Ron had finally asked. “This is Snape. What feelings?”

“Hey!” Harry flared back. “He just gave you Dreamless Sleep. Don’t act like he’s the enemy.”

“He is. He’s a professor and a snarky one at that,” Ron snapped back, though it was more an automatic response than anything else. In truth, Ron had been amazed at how lenient Snape had been with them. Not only had he tolerated their intrusion and given them the requested potion, but he hadn’t taken Harry’s head off when he yelled at Snape. Several times.

Ron had been worried at first when Snape had dragged Harry out of the room, and he had thought he’d overheard the sound of whacks being applied to someone’s bum a few minutes later, but when Harry had returned with Snape, he showed no signs of tears, mortification, or discomfort. Plus he’d promptly gotten into another argument with the man. Hardly the action of someone who’d just been spanked for insolence.

Obviously Harry was having a mellowing influence on the man, though Ron doubted that the fact that Harry could now get away with stuff meant that Snape would extend that largesse to anyone else. After all, the man had been playing favorites with his Slytherins and Malfoy for years. No reason to assume that just because he had adopted a new pet he would be any less snarky to those he didn’t care about.

Still, Ron was glad Harry seemed to have someone looking out for him. His Muggle relatives were worse than nothing, and while Dumbledore and McGonagall were obviously fond of him, they hadn’t been really useful at helping him. After all, the dotty old Headmaster had actually stuck Harry with the Dursleys and left him there all those years. At least Snape had promptly removed him from them and was – Ron had to admit – helping Harry in a lot of ways, from his lessons to his overall attitude. Harry was a lot less quiet and wary than he had been… as his shouting at Snape demonstrated. Ron’s mum would be pleased. She always worried that Harry was too nervous and high strung. She’d be relieved to see that he was a lot more relaxed these days and he even seemed less worried about having to fight You Know Who. Obviously having a plan and being trained by Snape was a lot better than just relying on some weird, unprecedented magic that no one understood.

But while Ron was happy for Harry and his relationship with Snape, he was still panicked by the thought of what the greasy git was about to do to him. Yes, he deserved it. Yes, he was willing to undergo practically any torture or humiliation to avoid expulsion, but why, oh why, did it have to be the most evil teacher in the school who was about to lay into him? If he had to go after a member of the staff, why couldn’t it have been a gentle Hufflepuff like Professor Sprout, or even little Professor Flitwick who might be a dueling champion but was still easily sidetracked by intelligent questions and possessed a sense of humor that made him surprisingly lenient towards pranksters. Even McGonagall, whose sternness was legendary, might have taken a little pity on him as a member of her House, and Trelawny or Lockhart would have been unable to think of anything worse than killing him by boredom as they droned on and on at him.

But no, it was Snape. Good one, Ron, he told himself bitterly, you had to go after the one known Death Eater on the entire faculty. This git engaged in real, live torture and from all accounts he still misses it. No amateur fumblings for you – Snape is going to know exactly how to make you howl.

His stomach gave another lurch and Ron realized two things. One, if he kept thinking about this, he really was going to be sick right there in the hall, and two, if he didn’t enter the room right now, he’d be late. Terror at the thought of the second drove all worries of the first out of his mind and he hurriedly banged on the door for entrance.

It was flung open a moment later, and Snape loomed before him.

“S- sir,” Ron began haltingly, only to be snatched by the shoulder and dragged into the room.

“Don’t dawdle, Weasley,” Snape rebuked coldly. “It would hardly be easy to explain what you are doing outside my private quarters.”

“Yes, sir,” he gulped.  “I- I’m here to start my punishment.”

“Well, obviously,” Snape sneered. “Very well. I assume you are wondering why I had you come to my quarters and not the classroom?”

Ron figured it would be safest to nod, though he had actually assumed that the silencing spells were better here, and Snape would be starting off the punishment with something particularly nasty.

“While I am not unmindful that our agreement was for you to serve as a general factotum, assisting me with preparation of potion ingredients and other unpleasant chores,” Snape began, looking a little uncomfortable, “it has occurred to me that our somewhat unusual agreement has had the effect of removing you from the normal disciplinary actions of your family.” Ron struggled to understand what the man was saying. Why couldn’t he just use normal English words? “As you had indicated to me that your parents were likely to combine corporal punishment –“ Ron understood that “- with restrictions and extra chores, it appears fitting that I take similar action.” Ron gulped – he’d been right. Snape was going to beat the hell out of him. “Obviously your work for me will provide the restriction from pleasant activities and the imposition of unwelcome tasks, but despite our previous conversation about my disinclination to become Gryffindor’s disciplinarian, your own behavior has made it clear that some sort of physical punishment would not come amiss.” At Ron’s bewildered look, Snape rolled his eyes and amplified. “Your conscience is tormenting you through your dreams. A sound spanking will ensure that your subconscious recognizes that you are being properly punished for your actions and additional lashings of morbid guilt are unneeded.”

Oh. Well, Snape was right that he couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done and how it proved that he would grow up to be a Death Eater himself. Ron just doubted that a simple walloping would change his conviction that he was destined for the Dark… and he had his doubts that what Snape was planning to do was merely a “sound spanking”. He rather assumed several rounds of being hexed and cursed and beaten would be involved. After all, considering Snape’s knowledge of – and experience with – the Dark Arts, why wouldn’t he use them on Ron? Especially if he were trying to recruit him for Voldemort, the more Dark spells he used on him, the better, right? Wasn’t it true that the Cruciatus didn’t leave any visible marks?

“Very well then.” Snape led Ron over to an armless chair and seated himself, positioning Ron at his side. The redhead blinked. Could Snape be serious? Was he really only planning to wallop him?

Before he could voice any of his questions, he’d been tugged across Snape’s lap and lifted into place. His backside was perfectly positioned for Snape’s hand, and he grabbed the chair legs to anchor himself and avoid reaching back to protect his rear. He assumed Snape would hex his arms off if he tried. Snape lifted his robe out of the way, but to Ron’s surprise, that was the extent of the disrobing.

“You know why you are receiving this spanking, Mr Weasley?”

“Yes, sir,” Ron managed to croak through his dry as dust throat. Here it came…

Snape paused, recalling Weasley’s nightmare. “Let me be very clear, Mr Weasley,” he said, tapping Ron’s seat for emphasis. “You are being punished for sabotaging a demonstration, deliberately causing an explosion, hexing me, and using atrocious language in front of the Headmaster.”

Ron winced. It sounded so awful, laid out like that, and his bum was already tingling in anticipation. Why didn’t Snape just get it over with?

“You are not, however, being punished for your plan itself, for trying to protect Harry, for developing and implementing a cunning plan, for thinking creatively and subtly, or for jumping to an inaccurate but logical conclusion. Do you understand?”

Astonished, Ron peered over his shoulder at Snape. “You’re not mad about the plan? But I stole the venom out of your storeroom and I blew up your cauldron, and I made everyone think you did it, and I punched you, and –“

“Mr Weasley,” Snape interrupted, and Ron could almost swear there was amusement in his tone, “are you trying to make your punishment worse?”

“N-no, but I don’t understand why you’re not just as upset about these other things,” Ron replied, too confused to be anything but honest.

“Mr Weasley,” Snape sighed in exasperation. “I am not the ogre you believe. I do not blame you for trying your best to help your friend.”

“But I acted like a Slytherin!”

“Yes.”

Ron nearly reared up at the calm syllable. “And I’m a Gryffindor!”

“Yes.”

Ron huffed. “I should have known you wouldn’t understand. I bet you wouldn’t be happy if Draco started acting like us, but you probably think it’s good if we all start acting like the Dark Lord. OUCH!” Surprised at both the delivery of a hard smack to his bum and the amount of sting the single slap had delivered, Ron craned his neck around and winced anew at the scowl on Snape’s face.

“I wasn’t being rude,” he explained hastily. “Or at least I didn’t mean to be. It’s just that Gryffindors have different standards than Slytherins.” He saw Snape’s hand come up for another whack and he flinched, but the dour man changed his mind and lowered his hand for a mere attention-focusing tap. It landed right where the previous swat had, though, and imparted enough force to the tender spot to make Ron grimace. The imminent spanking would not be pleasant. But Snape was speaking…

“That bloody Hat,” he muttered, as much to himself as to Ron, “has much to answer for.”

“Sir?” Ron asked blankly.

“Mr Weasley, contrary to what you may think, there are absolutes of Right and Wrong, and they do not vary from House to House. It is true that different Houses tend to have different approaches to problems and emphasize different aspects of a personality, but I assure you the Slytherin approach of subtlety is no more inherently evil than the Gryffindor approach of direct action. It is not the method nor the weapon that is good or bad, but the ends to which they are put. Did not your own actions make this point to you?”

Ron frowned, thinking, as Snape continued his lecture.

“If I had been guilty of the crimes you suspected me, your actions would have been both justified and likely effective. The plan itself was not evil, it was clever. You must learn –“ an emphatic tap to be sure the boy was listening “- to utilize all aspects of your personality, not merely those you consider appropriately Gryffindor-ish. I promise you that the Dark Lord’s behavior is less a reflection upon the House of Slytherin than on his own mental health. Or have you forgotten that Gryffindor has villains of its own?”

Ron squirmed. This was a most uncomfortable conversation, and not just because it was taking place while he was lying, bottom upturned, over his least favorite professor’s lap. The points Snape was making sounded awfully reasonable, but they couldn’t possibly be correct. Each of the Houses equally valuable? No inherent evil in Slytherin? His coming up with a plan worthy of Voldemort didn’t mean that he was doomed to become a Death Eater? “In Gryffindor we don’t idolize bad guys the way Slytherins do,” he protested.

“Mr Weasley, we are in the midst of a war, and people are choosing sides. The Dark Lord would certainly prefer to be thought of as the reincarnation of a powerful and respected wizard from antiquity rather than the unstable half-blooded orphan that he is. Accordingly, he does his best to ally himself with this House. In this, he is aided by the influence of several powerful Dark families with ties to this House. But there are those in this House who oppose You Know Who as strongly as any one alive.”

Ron blushed. He knew enough to be aware that Snape’s activities had put in him more danger from Voldemort than anyone else, even Harry, and he was Slytherin to the core. Could it be true that thinking like a Slytherin was not necessarily evil?

“Fanatics of any stripe are dangerous,” Snape said gravely. “It is true that Slytherins often act out of ambition and a desire for power, while Gryffindors are more self-sacrificing, but just as many atrocities have been committed for ‘the greater good’ as for personal gain. And to the victims, the end results are the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“Does it matter if your home is burned, your family killed, and you enslaved because someone wants you as free labor or because they think that doing so is the only way to bring you to eternal salvation? Does you think it hurts more if you are being tortured to satisfy someone’s dark desires than in an effort to save your soul?” Snape paused, letting Ron think over his words. “Muggle and Wizarding history is full of examples of people so convinced that they were doing the right thing that they committed unspeakable atrocities. The question of whether the ends justify the means is just as valid for your House as for mine, even if Gryffindors tend to convince themselves that it’s fine to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many, whilst Slytherins are less self-deluding and tend to concern themselves with the needs of the few or the one.”

“But what’s wrong with sacrificing the needs of the few for the good of the many?” Ron argued. “Wouldn’t the few want to be sacrificed under those circumstances?”

”And if they don’t volunteer, will you coerce them?” Snape asked. “Considering your regard for Mr Potter, I’m surprised that you are so willing to treat people as pawns. Does this mean you are willing to see him sacrificed for the sake of the war?” Ron stared at him in horror. “If I were to tell you that my previous treatment of Mr Potter was intended to toughen him up so that he was hard and unfeeling and able to face the Dark Lord, would you then welcome my actions? If the Headmaster insisted that he stay with his abusive relatives so that he remains convinced of his own worthlessness and that much more willing to sacrifice himself for others, would you consider the torments of his childhood to be justified?”

Ron paled. “Is that why –“

“Potter is not going back to those Muggles,” Snape said quickly. “But do you understand the seduction of power? It is not only Slytherins who respond to its allure.”

Ron chewed his lower lip. Maybe he wasn’t doomed to grow up to be a follower of Voldemort. Or was Snape just saying all this to trick him? Wasn’t that what a Slytherin would do?

“The Houses were never intended to encourage students to develop uni-dimensional characters. If you ignore or suppress various talents you will become nothing more than a caricature. It is the integration of the different aspects of your character, and all of your different traits, that will enable you to be successful in your studies, your life, and your fight against the Dark Lord.”

Ron snorted. “I dunno that anything can help with my studies,” he commented, expecting wholehearted agreement from his perennially displeased Potions professor.

“Your scholastic mediocrity derives – despite Ms Granger’s best efforts – from a willful disregard of good study habits. As your recent actions demonstrate, when properly motivated, you can exceed even the impressive academic exploits of your siblings.”

Now Ron knew he was hallucinating. No way had Snape just complimented him and his whole family while he lay across Snape’s knee, awaiting his punishment for attacking the man.

Something of his disbelief must have communicated itself to Snape, for the professor said, in long suffering tones, “Weasley, did it not occur to you that Gringott’s hires only the best? Or that your brother Charlie is one of a very small number of people who can work with dragons without being consumed or incinerated? And while Percy is an annoying prig, it is his impressive memory that allows him to memorize the rule book and his wit that permits him to anticipate and detect violations. Lastly, although I am extremely reluctant to compliment the twins, given their appalling tendency to foment chaos wherever they go, they would not be half so annoying if they were less brilliant at devising pranks or adapting potions to entirely inappropriate uses. Yet none of them have your skill with strategy nor the courage you have displayed in safeguarding your friends, regardless of the personal cost.”

Ron gulped. “But – but I still screwed up. I still blew up your lab.”

“Ah yes. And that is why you are being punished.” And with that, Snape began.