Harry blinked a moment before exclaiming, “Dobby!”

Severus’ hand tightened on the back of Dobby’s dirty pillowcase, as the little elf wrung his hands and worried at his ears, whimpering.

“Dobby what are you doing here?” Harry enquired in a hoarse whisper, wincing as he moved his healing arm.

“Harry Potter did not stay home. Harry Potter came to school, and now there have been attacks,” the elf whinged, tears floating in his ball-like eyes. “Harry Potter must leave, he is in great danger!” he pleaded.

“I was in greater danger at the Dursley’s,” Harry murmured to himself, although Severus heard and frankly concurred with the thought. “Let him down, Dad, he won’t hurt me,” Harry requested. But Severus shook his head.

“I want some answers from this elf, Harry, answers only he knows.” He flicked his wand with his left hand and Harry could feel a ward go up around them. He raised questioning eyes at his father. “A silencing ward, son, so we don’t rouse the good matron.” He turned his attention back to the elf. “Alright, Dobby, we know about the creature hiding in the depths of the castle – and it has already attacked a few times. What do you know? What are Lucius’ plans? Oh yes,” he purred when the little creature turned its huge, round eyes on him, obviously terrified. “I know exactly who you are, and who your master is; now talk!” Severus gave Dobby a small shake, ignoring a protest from his son, concentrating all his listening skills on the house-elf.

Dobby wriggled in the Potions master’s grip, tears dripping down his nose in his despair at being recognised.

“Master doesn’t know I’m here! But I must try to get Harry Potter to go home, get away from school…”

“But Dobby, my home…” Harry stopped when Severus motioned to him to be quiet with a curt shake of his head.

“I’m asking you again, elf, what is Lucius’ plan?”

“He had the Dark Lord’s things in hiding, under the dining room,” Dobby began, clearly under duress, as he wouldn’t look the Potions master in the eye, and his face kept screwing up as if under terrible mental torture. “Master took one of them and planted it on a student coming to the school. Master said it would release a creature that would kill the students who weren’t pure-bloods. Master hoped the creature would kill Harry Potter… Aaarrrgggghhh!!” the little man squealed, trying to punish himself against Harry’s metal bed frame. Severus yanked the elf away from the bed and hauled him up in front of him.

“What was the object?” Severus queried in a deadly serious voice, one he reserved for scaring the living daylights out of first-years.

“A-a-a book,” said the trembling Dobby, more tears welling in his huge eyes.

“A book?”

The elf nodded his head vigorously, before slamming his hands onto it, boxing his own ears.

“What kind of book?” the Potions master persisted.

“Diary! Bad Dobby, bad Dobby, squealing Masters secrets!” He stuffed his fingers into his mouth and began chomping on them. This answer struck a chord of familiarity in Harry, but he could not remember where he had seen a diary recently.

“Dobby, stop!” Severus commanded.

“Bad wizard tell Dobby stop?” he mumbled through his fingers.

“My dad isn’t a bad wizard!” Harry protested.

This stopped Dobby in his chomping, and he pulled his inflamed and bleeding fingers from his mouth. “Not a bad wizard? Harry Potter is wrong. Dobby saw Bad Wizard at Master’s house. Saw him do things with Master. He’s an evil wizard, Harry Potter, you should not be with him!”

“No, he isn’t. Trust me, Dobby. My father is not an evil wizard.” Harry raised an eye to his father, silently asking permission. He received a short nod after a short interval.

“Besides being my father, Dobby, Severus was a spy for the light in Volde – sorry, Dad – He-who-must-not-be-named’s camp.”

“Bad wizard not bad wizard?” Dobby asked incredulously, the tears stopping in his curiosity.

“Not a bad wizard, Dobby. Mr Malfoy knows this and is probably not too pleased about that.” Severus privately thought that his son was vastly underestimating Lucius’ reaction. ‘Not too pleased’, indeed. More likely, incensed! But he kept quiet as he watched his son interact with the little creature. Harry seemed to have an instinctual manner in how best to handle a house-elf.

Dobby shook his head in disbelief for a moment then looked at Harry again. “Dobby sorry, Harry Potter.”

“For what, Dobby?”

The little elf began wringing his ears again, not looking at Harry in embarrassment. “Dobby sorry for Harry Potter’s broken arm…”

“You bewitched the Bludger?” both Snapes asked simultaneously, in much the same tone of disbelief. This caused the elf to fall off the bed in fear and begin banging his head again against the cast iron railings at the foot of the bed. Severus whipped around the bed, snatched up the elf again and placed him back on the bed.

“Dobby, you’ve got to promise me, no more trying to save me! You nearly killed me instead!” Harry insisted, grabbing Dobby’s hands to keep him from beating himself again.

“Dobby didn’t mean too…” The elf’s eyes were threatening to overflow again as he stared in awe at Harry, and down at Harry’s hands. A great wizard was protecting him and touching him? Dobby lost his heart right then and there to Harry Potter-Snape, the greatest wizard he’d ever known.

“I know, Dobby. Just don’t anymore, okay? The last two times really didn’t work out the way you wanted, so just quit it, alright?” Harry pleaded, before squeezing the house-elf’s hands once in concern and releasing them.

“Dobby promises…” He cut off suddenly, looking off past Harry’s shoulder. “Dobby must go, he is being called!” And before Harry could say a thing, Dobby vanished with a loud snap of displaced air.

Harry let out a huge sigh, “Merlin!”

“I agree. Well, now we know what to look for – a Diary,” his father commented.

“Yes, but there must be hundreds of diaries in the castle,” Harry pointed out, although he just knew he had seen one recently, but where?

“Indubitably, there are,” Severus agreed. “We will have to keep a look-out, though. Now, back to sleep, young man.” He handed Harry a measure of Dreamless Sleep mixed with a pain-relieving potion, which Harry gratefully downed, despite the taste, and quickly fell asleep.

Severus kept watch the rest of the night, running the conversation with Dobby backwards and forwards through his mind, but coming to no worthwhile conclusions.

The next morning, Madam Pomfrey released the boy, after checking to make sure all his bones had regrown. Severus banished the cards and sweets to Harry’s room in the dungeons, most had yet to be opened – but Harry said he would read them when he found the time.

****

The rest of October whizzed by, with the Halloween feast featuring Hagrid’s prize pumpkins adorning the hall, capping it off. Harry and Draco barely had a chance to enjoy the sight, however, as they and Hermione had been invited by Nearly Headless Nick to attend his 500th Death Day Party. Already being dead, Nick had only been stunned by Gertrude, much to the annoyance of everyone who had to hear him repeat his story, not that he had seen much: he hadn’t been facing the direction she had approached; he had been talking with Justin. He had recovered after a few days time and resumed his usual hauntings; now with a new story to add to his arsenal.

Hermione had considered the party as something extremely novel to do, and Harry had managed to promise Nick he would attend to bolster the ghost’s standing amongst the other spirits. Draco tagged along in order to keep an eye out for his brother.

They had been totally disgusted by the rotting food, and had the willies run up their backs with the screeching of the ghost musicians. Nick had been pleased to see them though, and everything seemed to be going well until the headless hunt showed up and trampled through everything. Myrtle had fled, moaning up a storm, while Peeves cackled as he zoomed back and forth across the room throwing things through the ghosts, and Nick was so dejected he never saw the three students take their hurried leave.

It was on their way back towards the real banquet when Harry heard the basilisk again.

**Come to me, let me rip you, let me eat you…**

“Can’t you guys hear that?” Harry asked his two companions.

“Hear what, Harry?” Hermione asked. “I don’t hear a thing.”

Draco looked over at his brother. “You’re hearing it again?”

“Again?” Hermione squeaked.

Harry nodded absently; shushing the two of them with his hand, as his gaze wandered the corridor looking for the direction the voice was travelling in. He finally heard the sibilant whisper again leading upwards past the Entrance Hall.

“C’mon, it’s going this way!” he said as he began sprinting after the voice. Hermione’s exasperated “Harry!” fell on deaf ears as he ran to keep up with the monster. His flight took them to the second floor where they came upon Colin Creevey lying in a puddle of water near the girls’ bathroom with his camera frozen near his face. Hermione ran to get a professor while the boys guarded the area.

“Harry, this is where they found Mrs Norris…” Draco began a bit worriedly. Harry looked interested.

“Is it?” He hadn’t heard this information. He knew the first attack had been on the second floor, but not where.

“Yeah, and the other two were found just a corridor away.” Draco pointed out. Further conversation was stymied however, as they heard the running of feet on the stone floors approaching them. Severus and McGonagall came to a screeching halt in the water, splashing the boys, followed by Hermione who was panting and trying to catch her breath as she leaned over resting her hands on her thighs.

“Oh dear,” McGonagall stated when she saw her student on the floor. “I need to get him to the hospital wing with the others. I’ll leave these three to you, Severus,” she snapped out, pinning the three in their place with a glare. Then she looked around the corridor, seeming to notice the water for the first time. “Merlin, it looks like Myrtle has flooded the bathroom again.”

She tsked to herself as she used her wand to lift the boy up and float him along in front of her towards Pomfrey’s lair as Severus turned to the three students. With arms crossed on his chest and, with his hair falling forward casting his face in shadow, he looked positively sinister. All three children took a step back as he advanced on their position.

“Where were you tonight?” he asked sternly.

Harry gulped hard before responding. “Don’t you remember, Dad? We went to Nick’s Death Day Party.” Harry reminded his father.

“Of course, but that was down in the dungeons – what are you doing up here on the second floor?”

“I heard the basilisk again and I followed the sound…” he stopped when he saw his father’s visage roil in anger. Draco just shook his head ruefully on behalf of his idiotic god-brother who tended to walk where angels feared to tread.

“Are you crazy? What would make you do a fool thing like that?” Severus yelled. All three students cringed.

“I don’t know – it just seemed like I should; perhaps figure out where the entrance is? I think it has to be somewhere around here, Dad, all of the attacks have happened around here!” Harry tried to explain, but realising at the same time that it was a pretty lame excuse.

Severus turned to Draco and Hermione. “And you two just followed this hare-brained scheme? I thought you were smarter and cleverer than that!” he accused.

“Someone had to keep him safe,” Draco pointed out, trying to cover his arse as much as possible. Hermione just whimpered, she hated being in trouble with the teachers.

“No doubt,” Severus murmured. “Despite the fact that you most likely have deduced the location of the entrance – leaving us with a viable means of catching the perpetrator, you still placed yourself in mortal harms way. Do you remember, Harry, what I told you at the beginning of summer if I determined that you had done something to place yourself in mortal danger?”

Harry’s face blanched as he remembered the rules. “A – a – spanking?”

“Correct. Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy will receive detentions and twenty-five points docked apiece, as will you. But for leading this little expedition – without clearly thinking it through – you will receive a spanking.” Hermione looked askance at the sentence being heaped on her friend, forgetting her fear of detention.

“Sir, don’t you think…” she began, but was silenced by Severus’ hand.

“Miss Granger, I specifically spelled out to Mr Snape what his discipline would be, as his guardian and his father, if he should ever place himself in Mortal Danger. I do believe that following a voice that he specifically knew to belong to a basilisk qualifies as such, don’t you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in emphasis.

Hermione slowly nodded her head, giving Harry a sympathetic look that clearly said ‘I tried’. Harry shrugged his shoulders at her in resignation; he had been doomed the second his father had found him there.

Severus watched this little interplay before intervening. “I am going to escort Miss Granger back to her tower, and I expect you two gentlemen to be waiting in our rooms when I get back. Am I clear?” All three students nodded their heads and Harry and Draco headed back for the dungeons as Severus escorted Hermione to a nearby shortcut to the seventh floor.

When he returned to his rooms, both boys were sitting quietly at the table, neither speaking.

Severus hung up his teaching robes on the hooks just to the side of the entryway and approached the table, rolling up the sleeves of his white linen shirt.

“Draco, go get ready for bed. Harry, follow me, please.”

Draco gave a commiserating look to his brother before heading slowly down the corridor as Severus led Harry to his bedroom, conjuring a hard wooden chair in the middle of the chamber. He sat down in it, with Harry standing before him.

“Drop your trousers and pants, Mr Snape,” he commanded.

Harry worried his lower lip as he silently opened his belt, unzipped his trousers and shoved everything down around his knees. Severus motioned for him to bend over his knees and, after raising his hand for a moment, commenced the spanking.

Harry was glad the man counted as he suffered through the punishment; it helped – a little bit. But, Merlin, Severus’ hand was hard! Harry squirmed a bit as the numbers got higher, and gave a gasp when, at the tenth swat, Severus readjusted his knees so that he could reach a little lower on Harry’s buttocks – putting a whole new definition to his understanding of receiving a spanking. At the end of the fifteen total swats, with bright red butt cheeks to show for it, Harry was crying – though he was making no sound – and with his past, Severus didn’t expect him to. It was just the tears flowing non-stop down the boy’s face, and they broke Severus’ heart – but the child had been warned. Severus stood the boy up, helping him gingerly to redress then he transfigured the chair into a cosier one, and drew the child into his lap.

“Alright, Harry, it’s over.” He handed his son a handkerchief to dry his eyes with, while rubbing the boy’s back. Harry had curled into his father’s chest, breathing in the comforting scents he always noticed: cloves, cinnamon and wood smoke permeated the cloth.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Harry whispered.

“I know you are, son. Just try to think next time. Now, what would have been the correct course of action to take?”

“Get a professor.”

“Correct. Hopefully there will not be a next time, but knowing you – there will be. And if there is, I want you to get an adult. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” came the sniffled response.

“Good.” The two just sat there, together, for several minutes more. Harry was revelling in the novelty of being comforted after a spanking. Vernon had never comforted Harry – neither had Petunia, they had pushed him away when he was a toddler and needed comforting. He had learned quite quickly that comfort was not something he would ever earn. And Vernon had never spanked either; he had slapped, kicked, or pummelled Harry – but never just a spanking. And he couldn’t resent Severus for the punishment – the man had spelled out what would happen and had followed through. He could always count on Severus to be fair. He snuggled deeper under his father’s arms, wrapping his own comfortably around the older man, letting out a huge yawn that nearly split his face. His father chuckled.

“Come on, brat, let’s get you to bed.” He reluctantly helped his son to stand up, vanishing the chair, and followed the boy to his bedroom. Draco was still awake, writing in his journal when the two entered. Harry gave his brother a watery smile before grabbing a set of nightwear from his cupboard and heading to the bathroom to change. When he returned, Severus bade both boys goodnight and headed back to the lounge for a nightcap. He needed one after this night.