As they walked back up to the dorms, a pass from Snape safely clutched in their hands, Ron waited for the inevitable question. Finally, he could stand it no longer. “Aren’t you going to ask me why Snape whacked me?”

“Nope.” Harry shook his head.

“Or how come he’s allowed to?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Ron asked, bewildered.

“ ‘Cause I asked Snape about it when I first got down there.”

“Oh.” Ron felt oddly betrayed. “So what did he say?”

“He said that he was surprised to learn that I didn’t think that punishments should be kept confidential, but now that he knew better, he was sure that Malfoy would enjoy hearing all about my last spanking,” Harry mumbled, blushing furiously. Ron’s jaw dropped. “He was pretty mad.”

“But – but – it’s different with you and me,” Ron finally managed to say. “I mean, we’re best mates, and he knows that.”

“Yeah, I told him that too, and he said that if we were such best mates, why wasn’t I doing you the courtesy of allowing you some privacy? He said that I got angry when they were pushing me to reveal my secrets, and that I should be ashamed of myself for not respecting other people’s.” He looked over at Ron. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. I’m really sorry.”

Ron just mumbled and shrugged. He wasn’t really upset with Harry. If their positions had been reversed, he would have probably done the same thing.

“Then he said that he wasn’t about to try to figure out who was friends with who at any given time – though he said it a lot fancier and nastier – and so he just didn’t talk about anyone’s punishment with anyone else. Then he said that he didn’t let anyone in his House do it either. Punishments were no one’s business but his and the student’s, and he had the perfect cure for someone who was nosy about them – he made sure that they knew what it felt like to be publicly punished and have everyone talk about it. He said that if I asked you about your punishment, he’d find out, and he’d wallop me right in front of our whole Potions class.”

Ron’s eyes bugged out. “He did?!”

Harry nodded grimly. “And believe me, he meant it. So no, I’m not going to ask you a thing. If you want to tell me or Hermione or anyone, that’s your choice, but as far as I’m concerned, I didn’t see anything.”

Ron felt his shoulders straighten as if a burden had been lifted off them. If Snape said that to Harry, then surely he wasn’t planning to broadcast Ron’s wailing all over the school. Maybe it would just be between the two of them. He grinned to himself. He might still be walking slowly and painfully, but knowing that Malfoy wouldn’t be waiting in the morning to torment him had just lightened his mood considerably.

“Still sore?” Harry asked sympathetically, seeing how slowly and carefully Ron was moving. “Not that I’m asking how you got that way!” he added quickly.

Ron smiled ruefully and rubbed his still-smarting rear. “Yeah, you could say that. ‘S a little better than it was though. And you’re right; I swear he uses magic.”

“You’ll probably feel okay by morning. I always do.” Seeing Ron’s doubtful expression, Harry offered, “Well, even if it’s not gone, it’ll be better.”

“Yeah, I guess… Y’know, he could’ve been a lot worse to me,” Ron blurted out. “He’s not that bad, really.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, and the biscuits are brilliant.”