With some difficulty Harry raised his gaze and looked into Snape's face.

‘Follow me, Potter,' was all the professor said, and Harry felt really nervous now.

He hoped that Snape would remain silent on their way towards the dungeons, but when Snape opened his mouth again he knew he should have known better.

‘Congratulations, Potter. Not even your father managed to receive a caning, and that is really saying something. As Professor Dumbledore mentioned, you are the first student he ever ordered to be physically punished, in all these years. This most certainly is some achievement.'

Harry felt himself blush. ‘You are really going to enjoy this, aren't you?' he said before he could stop himself.

Snape raised one of his eyebrows:  ‘I most certainly am, and I have to admit that I was pleased, though surprised, that you declined the Headmaster's offer to attend to you by himself.  Would you enlighten me about your reasoning behind that?'

‘No,' Harry muttered, wondering whether this indeed had been a grave mistake.

‘I see. May I remind you that you still are to address me as "sir" at all times?'

‘Yes - sir,' Harry answered with as much contempt in his voice as he dared.

Suddenly Snape took a sharp right turn and entered a dimly lit floor. Harry followed, puzzled. Weren't they going to the dungeons? With a flick of his wand, Snape opened a door on the left.

‘Light please, Potter.'

Harry raised his wand. ‘Lumos.' He then stared in surprise into an overcrowded storeroom. There were large piles of battered spellbooks, faded Quidditch robes with stains that obviously not even the house-elves could have dealt with, loads of dusty boxes and some stuffed creatures of which Harry did not even want to know what they were. The whole room was a complete mess and very dirty. It was obvious that no one had been in there for a long time.

‘Sir, what..?'

Snape merely shook his head at the question. ‘Accio cane!' he said.

Harry swallowed hard.  From behind some boxes a cane flew into Snape's outstretched hand.

Silently they continued their march to the dungeons. When they crossed the Great Hall, they passed several small groups of students who whispered excitedly among each other when they caught sight of them. Harry had no doubt that Moaning Myrtle had wasted no time in telling everybody what he had done. He couldn't help but notice the shock on most faces when they spotted the cane in the professor's hand. A heavy sigh escaped Harry while they were descending the stairs.

‘Are you already complaining about your punishment?' Snape inquired.

‘I'm not; I would just prefer it if the whole school didn't know about it!' Harry retorted heatedly, prepared for the next snide remark of his teacher. However, this time it did not come.

Instead Snape said, ‘I can't imagine you would like your schoolmates think you got off lightly? They are not impressed by what you have done. Surely their knowing that you have been punished severely by me is going to help.'

Although Harry didn't like the bit about ‘being punished severely', he could not help admitting to himself that there was some truth in what Snape had said, especially when he thought about Hermione's reaction that he would still have to face.

They finally had arrived at the door to the potions classroom. ‘After you, Mr Potter,' Snape said sarcastically. He closed the door behind Harry.  ‘I suppose you would want some privacy,' he remarked as he locked the door magically and placed silencing charms on it.

‘Give me your wand and drop off your robe,' Snape ordered.

Harry placed his robe over a chair and reluctantly handed his wand over.

‘Good. Now do you have anything in the back pockets of your trousers?'

‘No, sir.'

‘Bend over a desk then.'

Harry approached a desk. ‘How many will I get...sir?' he asked nervously.

‘Ten strokes.'

Harry figured that it would help to know this in advance, although, having never been caned before, he wasn't sure how severe this punishment was going to be. He bent over the desk and grabbed the far side of the table with both hands, placing his cheek on the cool, wooden surface. The desk was a bit too low for him, a fact that Snape must have noticed, too, because Harry could feel the height adjusting. He heard the professor approach and felt his shirt pull out of his trousers. Already, Harry felt so humiliated, and Snape hadn't even begun!

‘Now, don't move, Potter, or I will use a body-bind spell. Is that understood?'

‘Yes sir,' Harry whispered, then he clenched his teeth. He was determined not to give Snape the pleasure of making him cry out.

He felt the cane touch his buttocks lightly, and then he heard a whoosh and a crack. Harry winced at the impact but managed to remain silent despite the stinging that erupted almost immediately.

‘One,' Snape said calmly.

The rattan tapped again just a bit below where it had first hit - another whoosh and crack and a second stinging stripe burned across his bottom.

‘Two.'

Tap. Whoosh. Crack. ‘Three.'

Meanwhile Harry's eyes were full of tears, and the knuckles of his hands were white from holding on to the table so forcefully.

Tap. Whoosh. Crack. ‘Four.'

Harry gasped, and the tears splashed from his eyes. His whole buttocks were on fire now, the various stripes of pain had all joined together into one large burning area. Breathe regularly, in - out - in - out... he told himself.

Tap. Whoosh. Crack. ‘Five.'

This time he not only winced but couldn't help letting a groan escape him. His behind was now so sore that even the light touch of the cane before the blow was uncomfortable. Harry cursed the thin fabric of his uniform's trousers and realized that he wouldn't be able to make it to the end of the punishment remaining silent.

Tap. Whoosh. Crack. ‘Argh!'

‘Six.'

Harry hardly noticed that he had cried out. It took all of his strength and concentration to lie still. He was glad that Snape was counting the strokes, because he felt he would have lost track of how many he had already received.

Tap. Whoosh. Crack. ‘Argh!'

‘Seven.'

Harry jumped from the blow and writhed on the desk but managed to hold on with his hands. He was sobbing now and had ceased worrying about crying out.

‘Keep still, Potter.' Tap. Whoosh. Crack. ‘Argh!'

‘Eight.  Just two more to go.'

His body was shaking uncontrollably.

Tap. Whoosh. Crack.  ‘Argh!'

‘Nine. Just one more, you've almost made it.'

Tap. Whoosh. Crack. ‘Argh!'

‘Ten.'

Harry heard Snape place the cane on the desk and felt his shirt tucking back into his trousers.

‘You may rise now.'

He slowly pushed himself up from the desk and turned around facing his teacher who offered him a tissue. ‘Thanks,'  Harry muttered and wiped his glasses, his face and blew his nose. He longed to rub his throbbing backside but would never do so in front of Snape. Hopefully the professor wasn't going to keep him much longer!

‘I want you to be in my office tonight after dinner at 7:30 for your first detention. Your other detentions will take place every Saturday morning at ten o'clock,' Snape said and held Harry's wand out to him. ‘You may leave now.'

Harry took the wand from Snape, picked up his robe and headed for the door.  ‘Oh, and Potter, one more thing,' he heard Snape add and turned around once more.

‘As the pain you are feeling right now does not result from an accident but from a well-deserved punishment, you are not to use any magic to reduce it. That includes salves or potions. Do I make myself clear?'

‘Yes sir,' Harry replied quietly and left the room.