As he followed Snape into his study, Harry reckoned that maybe he had stood up out of his chair a little too quickly. His limbs felt a bit weak as if he had been running for a long time, and his stomach felt the way it did when his broom dropped without warning and he zoomed down twenty feet in the air before catching himself.

But he ignored the sensations and kept the pace with Snape. No matter how he felt, Harry knew there was no way he was going to miss whatever Snape did to Draco. Draco had it coming, and Harry wanted to watch every single second. Perhaps that was not a noble Gryffindor attitude, but Harry thought he could attribute his thirst for revenge to his Slytherin side. After all the hat had wanted to put him there originally, and maybe this drive for petty revenge was what the hat had been talking about. Though he might feel guiltily later, Harry knew he would enjoy waiting Draco squirm and whine and suffer –

Harry suddenly jerked to a stop, and Snape paused as well, looking back him.

“What’s wrong?”

Say nothing, say nothing, a little voice told him. But following his Gryffindor prompting, Harry sighed and confessed, “I know – er, well, I think that is –”

“Quickly, Potter,” Snape looked annoyed.

“I think Draco’s father beats him,” Harry said in a rush.

“Yes?” Snape seemed to want Harry to continue.

Harry blinked. “Lucius beats him, and all you say is ‘Yes’!”

“What did you want me to say?” Snape asked calmly.

“You should do something,” Harry protested. “Intervene, tell Lucius to stop, call the Ministry – don’t just sit around and let it happen.”

“I’ve spoken several times with Lucius,” Snape replied evenly. “He told me to keep my nose out of his family’s business. Draco has not said anything to me, and since the signs of a beating have never shown themselves at Hogwarts, there is not a lot I can do. If Draco claimed he was being beaten badly and I saw the signs of abuse, then I could go to the Ministry. But the fact is, horrid though it might be, that the Malfoys are a very prestigious, old family with strong connections. The Ministry has dared to do a few raids on Malfoy Manor, but they are scared to do more than that. Lucius nearly got Dumbledore to resign – remember? He’s not about to let anyone interfere with how he raises his son.”

“So we can’t do anything?” Harry asked though he felt he already knew the answer.

Snape shrugged somberly. “Lucius is in prison now. Draco comes of age this school year, and he never has to go back home unless he wants to. There was nothing much any of us could do in the first place, but once he turns seventeen, he’ll have to make his own choices.”

“All right,” Harry agreed doubtfully. “But for now – are you going to, you know?”

“Spank him?” Snape supplied.

Harry winced, hating to hear the word out loud. It was one thing to endure that type of punishment; quite another to talk about it. “Well, yeah.”

“I punished you that way for slamming the door on his fingers,” Snape said, his calm demeanor making Harry feel twice as uncomfortable. “I think it’s only fair that I do the same to him for trying to kill you.”

“But Lucius –”

“This has nothing to do with Lucius or his abuse,” Snape insisted. “I know it might bring up bad memories for Draco, but I have dealt with you in my own way, regardless of how anyone else punished you in the past.”

“You were always really strict with me because you thought no one else had been,” Harry said hotly.

“In that, yes. But in other things, I did not let your sad upbringing interfere. You said you were locked in that cupboard when you were little. Though I felt that was not the correct way to discipline a small child, I had no qualms about sending you to your room or the corner for a time-out when you misbehaved. I did not feel that I had to say ‘Oh, poor precious baby, he’s been through so much – I should excuse his bad behavior because he was mistreated as a child’.”

Harry snorted. “Like you’d ever call anyone that.”

“Exactly. So I will not let Draco’s unfortunate relationship with his father get in the way of how I deal with him here. Both of you need a firm hand now and then, sometimes more often than not.”

“Bet my own dad wouldn’t think so,” Harry muttered. He was not sure why he said that. He was feeling a little dizzier, and the image of his parents kept returning to his mind over and over again.

“Regardless of my personal feelings about James Potter,” Snape said dryly, “I have no doubt he would have had to punish you at least once in the last sixteen years if he were still alive. All children misbehave, and you are no exception. Now, come along.”

“Lucky me,” Harry grumbled. “I get stuck with the world’s strictest father. We should celebrate.”

Snape shot him a quick look, but Harry was trudging along, muttering a little and almost sticking his bottom lip out in a disgruntled pout.

Draco was waiting in his chair, but he stood up as soon as Snape entered with Harry. Draco looked very nervous, but he said in an arrogant voice, “Why does he have to be here?” and stared pointedly at Harry.

Snape waited until Harry sat down in a nearby chair before continuing, “He was kind enough to talk me out of sending you away to stay with your mother, so sit down and be quiet, Draco.”

The blond gave Harry a mean look, but he plopped back down on his seat. Snape stood in front of Draco, arms crossed.

“All right, Mr. Malfoy, suppose we talk about what you were trying to accomplish by tricking Harry into that room and then locking him in.”

“I locked the door from his side,” Draco protested. “He could get out anytime he wanted.”

“Draco!” Snape thundered, making Harry jump. “You answer my question right now, or go upstairs and start packing. You are on very thin ice, and if I hear anything close to disrespect, you are leaving tonight.”

“I thought I’d get back at him,” Draco said, but his voice was more pitiful than defiant. “That really hurt, what he did to my fingers. He had it coming, so I gave it to him.”

“You though that since he accidentally slammed a door on your fingers, a feat for which you heard me punish him and for which he apologized profusely, you would try to kill him?” Snape towered over Draco.

Harry leaned back in the chair and reflected that Snape still looked like a huge bat, even without the black robes. The man just had that look, all dark hair and foreboding eyes. Of course, with that nose, he could be a hawk. But were hawks black? Harry always thought hawks were brown. Why didn’t Snape try to shrink his nose? Hermione had got her teeth shrunken a little more than their normal size when Draco had cursed her. Snape should shrink his nose, just a little, for the fun of it.

“You do not try to harm other people in this house,” Snape ordered, oblivious to Harry’s thoughts. “I know everyone is hexing each other and playing pranks at school – I’ve had whole classes for detention because students couldn’t stop themselves from one-upping the last prank. But you could have killed him, and that is a serious offense.”

Seeing Snape’s severe look, Draco squirmed. “Are – are you going –”

“Yes, I am,” Snape ground out. “And so help me, you even think about doing something like that, you won’t be able to sit until school starts.”

Harry glanced down at his knees and realized that he was sitting down. That was nice. It felt good to sit down after he had been so dizzy.

“Fine,” Draco crossed his arms. “But he has to leave.”

“No, he stays,” Snape ordered. “You can keep your trousers up, but I want him to stay so both of you know this is over once and for all. Neither of you will try to get even with the other, or I will lock you in separate rooms for the next four days. Am I understood, Draco?”

“Yes,” Draco frowned, almost glaring.

“What was that?” Snape barked out.

“Yes, sir,” Draco mumbled.

“Harry?” Snape glanced over at him.

Jerking himself back to the present, Harry nodded. “Yes, sir,” he replied automatically, knowing that was the answer Snape always demanded.

“Good,” Snape grabbed a sturdy wooden chair with no arms and plunked it in the middle of the room. Sitting on it, Snape unbuttoned and rolled up his right sleeve. “Draco, come here.”

Harry stared at Snape, blinking slowly. Had Snape called “Draco” or “Harry”? Hopefully, it was Draco. Slouching down in his chair a little, Harry thought he would just stay still and maybe Snape wouldn’t notice him. The way Snape was sitting and looking so stern – someone was about to be spanked. If Harry was really still and quiet, maybe Snape wouldn’t spank him.

Listlessly, Harry watched as Draco miserably stood up and walked towards Snape. That was good – Snape must want to punish Draco. That probably meant Draco had done something wrong.

“I’m too old for this!” Draco wailed as he bent over Snape’s lap. “This is for children – I’m sixteen!”

“Then start acting like it,” Snape put his left hand on Draco’s waist to steady him.

“You’ll regret this!” Draco said pathetically, sniffing back tears.

“One more threat from you,” Snape snarled, “and I’ll spank you tomorrow night before bed as well.”

“All right! I’m sorry,” Draco moaned.

Without any more lecturing, Snape raised his hand and brought it down, walloping the seat of Draco’s expensive trousers. The blond let out a howl that was completely out of proportion to the smack he had just received. Snape rolled his eyes – Teenage theatrics! – and smacked him again. He felt no need to lecture. Potter did better with the lecturing and spanking together – Snape felt that Harry seemed to remember more of what he said when he was being punished. Draco, on the other hand, was too worried about his own dignity and pride to take in anything other than the pain and humiliation.

Harry watched them, blinking slowly every now and then. It was funny to see Draco hanging over Snape’s knees like that. Now, Draco was kicking, looking like he was trying to run in the air. That was funny too.

Harry took a deep breath. He was feeling very dizzy and tired now. He wished he could close his eyes and just listen to the smacking sound that rang out and Draco’s cries, but Harry tried to keep his eyes open.

Oh, now they had split into two. Right beside each other, there was a Snape spanking Draco and another Snape spanking Draco. Draco was being spanking twice. Harry wanted to chuckle, but he couldn’t remember how to do it.

He leaned his head to one side. The Snape and Draco on the right side went up higher than the left. Harry leaned his head to the other side. The Snape and Draco on the left went up.

Harry began moving his head back and forth. It was like watching a seesaw. Draco on the right went up and got spanked, then the left Draco went up and was also spanked. Up and down. Seesaw, seesaw, seesaw – Snape and Draco up, then the other Snape and Draco up. Seesaw, getting spanked, crying all the time, up and down, back and forth, seesaw, seesaw.

Something wet dribbled from Harry’s mouth.

He reached up and touched the wetness. He looked at his fingers. His drool was all red.

That was funny, too. Red drool. Red, red drool, all thick and sticky.

Then hot tears were leaking from his eyes, rolling under the edge of his glasses and sliding down his cheeks. He touched the tears with his other hand; they were red, too.

And snot started trickling from his nose, and it was red.

Harry tried to wipe the wetness from his face, but then his hands were covered with red, a deep dark red that was damp and trickling down his palms. It was like he was wearing red gloves. Snape would think that was funny.

Harry tried to speak, to tell Snape that he was wearing red gloves, but all that came out was a gurgle.

Snape looked up, and his eyes flew wide open. He unceremoniously dumped Draco on the floor and ran towards Harry, pulling out his wand.

Harry watched as a strong, warm light burst from the wand. The colors of the light were so pretty . . . all gold, silver, and blue. Harry wanted to touch the light, to let it run through him and chase away the dizziness.

Pretty light, so pretty and bright, come closer, come closer . . .

------

Harry opened his eyes and blinked a few times. He was lying in bed, tucked between warms sheets and blankets with an extra thick pillow under his head. Daylight played on the wall beside him, light reflecting off the lake, he guessed, by the way it dancing and flickered.

He reached for the nightstand beside the bed and felt for his glasses. His arm hurt, but he kept feeling for the glasses. Once he had them, he put them on and glanced up at the dancing light.

By the look of the light, it was mid-day. Yet he was wearing pajama and in bed. Remembering what he had thought right before he saw Snape with the wand, Harry raised both hands.

“Don’t worry,” a voice told him.

Harry looked around. Draco was sitting on the other bed. The bed was made, but Draco sat up with his back against the propped up pillow and his legs were out straight.

“Snape cleaned up your face and hands before he put you to bed,” Draco said in a voice that sounded oddly choked up as if the blond had a cold. “He made me sleep in the other room, and he watched you most of the night.”

Harry looked at Draco a little closer. The blond had red, puffy eyes, but his face was pale, and he kept biting his bottom lip as if to keep it from trembling.

“What happened?” Harry sat up. The dizziness was gone, but he felt sore and achy. He leaned back on the pillows, content to rest for now.

“Snape said it was the effect from the plants,” Draco whispered, looking down at the floor. “He said the strain from fighting sleep caused your blood vessels to weaken or something like that. It was just a matter of time before you started bleeding.”

“What did he do?” Harry inquired, still trying to process it all.

“You passed out, but he stopped the bleeding,” Draco sniffed, swiping a hand hastily over his eyes. “He was afraid you would have brain damage or choke on the blood so he made me hold you sitting up while he poured some weird potions down your throat. You were just leaned against me like a limp doll, all dead weight and arms flopping every time you moved, and you covered in blood. I was sure you were dead. But Snape felt your pulse, and he said you were breathing, but he wanted to leave you asleep so you would heal quicker. He Levitated you upstairs and then he sent me away.”

“What time is it?” Harry tried to raise his arms. Ow, that hurt! The joints were all stiff, and he felt like he had been stretched on a rack until his limbs were like putty.

“Two in the afternoon,” Draco answered, still sniffing. “You were asleep for twelve hours again, but Snape said it was okay. He woke me up this morning, forced me to eat some breakfast, and then –” Draco broke off and bit his lip again.

“And then?” Harry prompted.

“He took me out in the hall and finished up what he started last night.”

Harry fought the urge to laugh, mocking his sniveling. After all, Draco was trying not to cry, and he looked pretty shaken up by what had happened to Harry. Pushing back the laugh, Harry tried to look sympathetically, but that seemed to make Draco feel even worse.

“Afterwards, he told me to come in here and sit and watch you while he went to get some sleep. If anything happened, I was supposed to touch that stone,” Draco nodded to a small blue rock on his own nightstand, “and Snape would come back, but he said you’re safe now.”

“Well, I’m awake,” Harry yawned, wishing he could stretched his arms up and make the soreness go away. “So you can leave.”

“No, I can’t,” Draco blinked back tears. “Snape stuck me to this bed. I can’t move off it until he performs the countercurse. And I’m still hurting, but I can’t get up.”

Harry felt a little of sympathy – wow, Snape must have been really angry to punish Draco so severely – but he only said, “Well, serves you right for trying to kill me.”

“I didn’t know what the room did!” Draco cried out. “I read the sign and I thought Snape was being overly dramatic. I opened the door and I felt a little sleepy, but I didn’t think it would kill you.”

“You didn’t know what the plants were?” Harry was skeptical.

“No, I may be Pure-Blood, but I don’t have much use for Herbology,” Draco snapped, wiping at his eyes again. “Once the leaves and berries are crushed up, I know how to use them in potions, but I thought they were harmless on the tree. I just wanted to get you in trouble. Around suppertime, I went to check the room. You were on the floor asleep, but you were muttering like you do when you sleep normally, so I thought you’d eventually wake up. Then Snape would punish you for going in there. I was going to say that I thought Snape did want you because he had asked where you were earlier, but that you misunderstood my directions and went into that room.”

“So you didn’t want to kill me, jut get me in trouble?” Harry scowled.

“It was just a prank to get back at you for the door thing,” Draco protested, but his eyes seemed to grow redder. “I never meant for it to be so bad.”

“What about locking the door?” Harry challenged.

“Oh, well, I got my wand and locked the door, thinking that Snape would believe you had locked the door from the inside yourself. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

“So you planned to never tell him where I was?” Harry retorted.

“I thought I’d let him get good and mad, and then he’d crack down on you. I didn’t think you’d start bleeding all over the place and nearly die. I’ve never seen Snape that angry. He grabbed my wand and threatened to break it in two. Then he took it and said he would give it back to me our first night at Hogwarts.”

“Serves you right,” Harry said though he didn’t really feel like making Draco feel worse. Draco looked like he was going to start crying again, and Harry didn’t want that to happen. Regardless of the outcome, Draco hadn’t really meant to kill him, and Harry knew all about doing things unintentionally that blew up in your face in the end. Of course, Harry would agree with Snape that intentions did not matter if you did not first think about the consequences of your actions, but Harry had messed up all sorts of times, and this was Draco’s first time . . .

“All right,” Harry said, “let’s both agree to a truce just for now. Back at Hogwarts, we can fight all you like, but here for the sake of our well-being and Snape’s temper, let’s try not to fight. You’re only going to be here a few more days – we can make it without killing each other. Because, take it from me, if Snape thinks we are fighting again, he will come down on both of us like you would not believe.”

“Really?” Draco looked frightened.

“You think that was bad?” Harry asked. “Try having your trousers and shorts down and getting it with a ruler.”

Draco’s red eyes widened slightly, and he nodded. “Fine, truce. But I swear, you’re going to get it this year at school.”

“Same to you,” Harry couldn’t help grinning. It was fun to make such mean threats for the future regardless of whether or not they planned to carry them out.

“You tell anyone what Snape did –” Draco threatened, but Harry interrupted him.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“We never talk about this,” Draco groused. He reached towards the stone. “Should I get Snape?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, then winced as the muscles of his neck hurt. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to take a bath and see if I stop aching.”

He flung the covers off himself and tried to ignore the pain in his arms.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” a stern voice asked from the doorway.

Harry looked up to see Snape standing there.

“Oh, I was just –”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Snape announced. He took out his wand and pointed it at Draco. “Finite Incantum.”

Draco immediately rolled off the bed and stood up. Harry could see his hands itching to reach back and rub, but Draco would not let himself show that kind of weakness.

“You can have some lunch downstairs, and then go on to the library and start on that reading we talked about yesterday,” Snape directed Draco. “I’ll see you at suppertime.”

“Yes, sir,” Draco quickly left the room.

Snape walked over to the dresser, and Harry gave a groan as he saw the old black bag make another appearance.

“Not that nasty potion again,” Harry complained. “I’m not going to burst into flames. I don’t need it.”

“Quiet, Potter,” Snape told him firmly. He pulled out the thermometer and shook it. Sighing, Harry opened his mouth, and Snape placed the thermometer under his tongue before reaching for Harry’s wrist.

“Tink Ah wash an inbalid, da way oo fush ober be,” Harry said around the thermometer.

“Shh,” Snape hushed him so he could take his pulse.

Harry rolled his eyes, but he let Snape check him over, trying not to giggle when Snape felt around his throat for swelling.

“I’m ticklish there,” Harry explained after Snape took out the thermometer. “Well, what’s the verdict, doctor? Will I live?”

Snape looked down at him without a hint of a smile. “That is not funny.”

“After so many near death experiences, you have to learn to shrug it off,” Harry shrugged, but then he winced.

“What’s hurting?” Snape demanded.

“I’m sore,” Harry complained, rubbing his arms. “My muscles ache, and I’m all stiff. Is it from sleeping so long or from the bleeding?”

“Probably a little of both,” Snape decided. “You’re going to take a hot bath with some salts to help you relax. Then I’ll help stretch your muscles out. But you are taking it easy today. You lost a lot of blood, and I don’t want you doing more than sitting quietly and reading. No running around, no yelling, no getting excited. Just rest.”

“Or?” Harry couldn’t help baiting him. It was amusing to hear the outrageous threats that Snape would use to get him to go along with whatever Snape wanted.

“Or I’ll glue you to the bed like Draco, cover you with a blanket, and leave you to stare at the ceiling.”

“Hey, that wasn’t very outrageous,” Harry objected. “You did that at the beginning of summer when you made me take a nap. I thought it would be something like wrapping me up in spider webs and hanging me from the ceiling like a cocoon or using my fingers for your next potion. Really, Snape, you disappoint me.”

“No one wants your fingers, Potter,” Snape said crossly. “They’d ruin any potions.”

But he put both hands under Harry’s arms and helped him stand up very slowly. Harry winced but tried not to make a sound. Snape did not comment; he put his left arm around Harry’s back and draped Harry’s right arm around his own neck. Supported by Snape, almost being carried, Harry began to make a slow, painful trip towards the bathroom. His legs hurt, but he could keep going with Snape holding him up.

Twice Harry nearly fell, but Snape’s grip tightened around him, refusing to let him drop.

“Don’t hurry,” Snape cautioned. “Take all the time you need. I have you – I won’t let you fall. Easy does it. I promise I won’t let you go.”

And they kept moving on, slow but steady.