Age 6: 

Halloween

Remus glared at Harry who had the sense to look ashamed of himself. “Harry Potter, what have we told you about your behavior at school?” Harry just looked at his feet. “Answer me.”

“I better behave myself if I don’t want a smacking,” the boy mumbled.

“That’s right and not only did you misbehave, but you could have seriously hurt yourself or somebody else.” Harry pushed his toe against the edge of the hearth. He hated lectures. Uncle Remus usually kept his lectures short, but he smacked harder. His Dad’s lectures seemed to go on and on, but he didn’t usually smack as hard or as long as Uncle Remus. Either way, Harry always felt thoroughly chastised. He hoped that Remus would get this over with quickly. Remus had his arms crossed staring at the child who didn’t appear to be listening. He softened his tone, “Harry, look at me.”

Harry looked up at his Uncle Remus whose lips were pressed tightly together. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Remus nodded and said, “I’m glad to hear that, but you still need a bottom-warming. Now go get the slipper.”

“Aww, Uncle Mooney, please don’t use the slipper,” the boy whined.

“You need to feel the slipper this time. I believe it’s in your Dad’s office.” He paused looking at the reluctant little boy. “Go on now, unless you want extra.”

Harry replied, “Yes, sir,” and headed toward his father’s office which connected their home to the potion master’s classroom. He pushed open the door hoping that his Dad was in class and wouldn’t notice him, but the man was sitting at his desk. Harry entered quietly. Severus was writing something down and didn’t look up, but Harry knew that his Dad had heard him. He always did.

The professor finished his sentence and looked at his child. Then he checked the clock. Since Harry’s school day wasn’t over yet and the child’s face was tear-streaked, it was obvious that Harry was in some kind of trouble. He reached out his hand, “Come here, Harry.” Harry obeyed, but continued to stare at his toes. “What’s going on, son?”

“I, um,” Harry cleared his throat, “I, uh, need the slipper, Daddy.”

“Oh, I see.” Severus opened his drawer and pulled out the slipper which he set on his desk. “C’mere a minute, Harry.” With that he reached out and gathered the boy in his arms whispering in his ear, “I love you, kiddo. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. I still love you and so  does Remus.”

“Thanks, Dad,” the boy whispered. With that Snape planted a kiss on the top of Harry’s messy head, handed him the slipper, and lowered him to the floor. Then, with a gentle pat on the seat of Harry’s slacks, he sent the boy back to Remus.

Harry plodded back to his uncle. Remus was waiting on the settee and reached out his hand for the slipper which he quickly placed on the cushion next to himself. Then he pulled Harry between his knees and looked the child directly in the eyes. “Why am I punishing you, Mr. Potter?”

Harry sighed. He hated being in trouble and really wished that he were better at avoiding it. “I got in trouble at school, sir.”

“And what did you do?”

“I pranked the teacher with fireworks.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s dangerous.”

“That’s right, Harry,” Remus affirmed as he gently picked up the boy and placed him over his lap. Then he took hold of the child’s waist with his left hand and sharply smacked Harry’s bottom with his right. Harry gasped and moved his his hands to protect his rear. Remus just grasped both of Harry’s wrists in his left hand and smacked the boy again.

Harry cried out, “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Remus replied, but he continued the smacking. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Harry was sobbing and Remus paused. “Almost done, Harry.” He picked up the slipper and brought it down twice against Harry’s tender bottom, once on each cheek. Quickly he lifted Harry against his chest and let the child cry, all the while whispering that he loved him and that Harry was forgiven.

__

That evening, at the Halloween feast, Fred and George Weasley, who were visiting their brothers Charlie and Bill, stopped to see Harry at the head table. “We’re sorry, Harry.”

“Yeah, we didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

Severus eyed them, “Ah, so you are the miscreants who supplied my child with fireworks.” Both boys stared at their feet and nodded. “Does your mother know about this?”

In the universal language of smacked children everywhere, both boys rubbed their bottoms and replied, “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t give my son anything dangerous again, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they responded in unison. Severus gave them a stern nod before they bade Harry farewell.

“See you tomorrow, Harry.”

“Yup, we’ll see you in the morning.”

Harry smiled and waved as the twins rushed back to their seats.

Age 7:

Christmas 

Now that Harry was old enough to have some freedom he was allowed to visit several places in the castle, as long as he got permission ahead of time. He had been to visit Professor Sinistra and was headed for the dungeons when he noticed that Sir Cadogan was running across somebody else’s painting. Sir Cadogan was constantly leaving his own painting to hassle the occupants of other paintings and Harry wondered what he was up to. Harry followed stealthily as the Knight jumped from painting to painting, but was caught when Sir Cadogan returned to the painting he had just left.

“Ah, young Harry, I thought someone was following me.”

“Yeah, what are you doing?”

“I heard that ballet is good for building your strength so I thought I’d join the ballet lesson, but I can’t seem to reach the tapestry.” Harry turned and studied the tapestry. It appeared that a Wizard was attempting to teach some trolls ballet. It wasn’t looking very promising. “Let me try again," called Sir Cadogan, and he jumped to the painting just beyond the tapestry. Harry chased after him.

“Sir Cadogan,” he started, when the knight suddenly returned to the painting before the troll tapestry. Harry ran after him again and started to speak, but Sir Cadogan had already returned to the painting on the other side. Harry called out and began to run after him, but Sir Cadogan seemed not to hear him.

 “Oh bother,” grumbled the knight, “I guess I’ll go tickle some fruit,” and he was off again. Harry gave up. He had wanted to know more about how the knight jumped from picture to picture and he had wanted to suggest that Sir Cadogan join the tightrope walkers that Harry had once observed in a circus picture.

Harry stood in the hallway breathing heavily and trying to get his bearings when he thought he heard his father. “Uh oh, I better hide,” he whispered and a door suddenly appeared. “It’ll probably be locked,” Harry mumbled, but he tried it anyway and it was open. Harry slipped inside and closed the door. The light was dim, but Harry’s eyes soon adjusted. His mouth dropped open and he gasped in awe. He seemed to be in a huge closet that was piled with junk: really cool junk. Harry walked up and down the aisles staring at everything. That’s when he noticed the tiara. It was pretty and he didn’t have a gift for Professor Sinistra so he grabbed it and headed for the door. Placing his ear against the door Harry listened carefully for any voices before he slowly opened it. The hall seemed to be clear so Harry ran out and rushed toward the dungeons. He was only about halfway down the hall when he realized that the crown of metal felt warm. ‘Shouldn’t it be cool?’ he thought as he wandered down a stairway.

He arrived back at his quarters without further incident, but faced two very angry looking guardians. “Harry, where have you been?” Remus asked in his usual mellow voice.

Harry’s Dad, wasn’t quite so tolerant, “Professor Sinistra says that you left the tower an hour ago. I know you didn’t come straight back.”

Harry put his head down. “I’m sorry. I was following Sir Cadogan.”

“You know better,” scolded Remus.

“Yes, sir,” agreed Harry gloomily.

“You are going to spend the rest of the afternoon, until supper, in your room. Now march!” Severus stated firmly.

“Yes, sir.” Harry turned and dragged his feet as he walked toward his room. It seemed too close to Christmas for punishments.

“Wait, Harry, what’s that in your hand?”

Harry turned, “It’s my gift for Professor Sinistra. I found it in a big closet.”

“May I see it?” asked Snape calmly, but he felt just the opposite. If he wasn’t mistaken, the tiara looked like a bird. Harry walked back to his Dad and handed over the diadem. Severus studied it closely as Remus stared thoughtfully. “I’m sorry, Harry, but you can’t give this to Professor Sinistra.”

“Why not?” Harry asked petulantly.

Harry felt a sudden sting in his rump and spun to face his Uncle Remus. “You watch your attitude young man. Aren’t you in enough trouble?”

Harry had tears in his eyes and his ears felt hot, “But I wanted to get her something. It’s not fair.”

“Harry, look at me.” Harry turned and faced his Dad who placed his long fingers under Harry’s chin.

“I’m sorry, son, but this may be a dark and dangerous artifact. I’ll have to let the Headmaster look it over. We’ll find another gift for Aurora, understand?” Harry’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “Perhaps tomorrow you can show me where you found this.” Again, Harry nodded. “Good, now get to your room, you scamp.”