InsaneJournal

When Harry Potter was twenty years old, he made himself a cupboard under the stairs. It was nicer than the one he had grown up in and he kept it clean and tidy – filled it with small toys which he collected over the years.

He kept it hidden, deep in the heart of Grimmauld Place, and on rare occasions he would allow himself to visit and spend a day or a night playing with his toys. When he had finished, he would curl up in his blankets and sleep on the floor, and he always hoped that his nightmares might stop one day.

Afterwards, he would leave the cupboard until the next time he needed to return. When the door closed behind him, Harry would cast a disillusionment charm over it and he would try to pretend that his cupboard didn’t exist.



Not long after he had made his cupboard under the stairs, Harry began to think about Severus Snape and sex. This strange and unsettling combination of thoughts was prompted by a discussion with Ron over coffee in a small Muggle café down the road from the Ministry. Ron informed Harry through a mouthful of Danish pastry that Snape was gay. When Harry asked how the hell Ron had discovered this, Ron waved his breakfast as if he was talking about the weather and airily informed Harry that Hermione had seen Snape kissing another man – right on the doorstep of his potions store – just around the time nobody else should have been around.

Only Hermione was around, and she had proceeded to tell Ron who had proceeded to tell Harry, because – as Ron said – it didn’t seem fair to keep a secret like that when Harry had told them all about the Horcruxes and stuff.

That night, Harry slept badly, largely because he was too busy reading some magazines which explained in graphic detail exactly what two wizards got up to in bed together. At first, Harry couldn’t explain why he had found the news about Snape so intriguing, but as he started to flick through the glossy pages he began to get some idea.

The penny dropped around page number twenty-six, and by page thirty-two (which had to be turned on its side to be viewed properly) - flushed, perspiring and uncomfortably hard, Harry thought this might go some way to explaining why he hadn’t progressed beyond kissing with previous girlfriends. And why the idea of being in a relationship with someone as brilliant as Ginny had filled him with confusion and dread.

Harry turned restlessly, his mind filling uncomfortably with images of Snape in the various positions the models in his magazine had adopted. He pulled his pillow over his head with a groan and decided that, on the plus side, he definitely wouldn’t have any nightmares that night.



Three months later, Harry found his private life splashed over the pages of the Prophet.

Potter’s Search for Wizard to Take up the Aisle

The Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal that Harry Potter shared more than just an inclination for fighting Dark wizards with his former mentor, Albus Dumbledore. The status of Potter’s love life has been a closely guarded secret since the war - a brief flirtation with tomboyish Quidditch player Ginevra Weasley being his only publicised romance to date.

We can now disclose that Potter has been hiding his true sexuality, and reveal a secret which is expected to break the hearts of young witches all over the country. The Daily Prophet was surprised to discover that Potter, found purchasing pornography from a shop in Muggle London, has tastes that seem to lean towards the more masculine partner. Potter’s homosexuality has not come as a surprise to everyone, however. When asked about Potter’s interest in men, a former classmate, who asked not to be named, exhibited little surprise.

“Of course Potter’s gay. Nobody spends that long in the showers unless they’re sizing up the competition. Although, frankly, if he wants to attract someone of any gender he might want to rethink his clothes. He dresses with all the sartorial elegance of a colour-blind kneazle.”

We can’t help but wonder why Harry Potter, hero of the Wizarding world, has found it necessary to resort to solitary fantasies and top-shelf magazines. The Prophet hopes that by our revealing where Potter’s interests lie, he may eventually find what he desires. I’m doing him a favour, really.

Rita Skeeter

Harry huffed and threw down the paper, looking out of the window with a frown. He heard someone stumble through the Floo and looked up to see Ron brandishing his own copy of the paper.

“What the bloody hell is this?”

“A disaster,” Harry replied, gloomily. “The magazines are hardly porn. Besides, what I do in my own time and who I choose to do it with is private. Not to mention the headline is about as subtle as an Unforgivable.”

“That’s what you’re worrying about?” Ron snorted and sat, dropping his own paper on the table. “You’re not even gay, are you?”

“Yeah, about that…”

“Right.” Ron’s eyes widened and he reached out to punch Harry lightly on the shoulder. “Well you could have told us. Hermione’s been trying to find you a girlfriend for ages.”

“Let me guess – no one was quite the right fit?” Harry grinned and shrugged. “I should have realised when I couldn’t make a go of it with Ginny.”

“Yeah. She was thrilled to be referred to as 'tomboyish'.” Ron rolled his eyes and snorted lightly. “Bloody Skeeter. Does this have anything to do with Snape?”

“Snape?” Harry feigned surprise and shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“No,” Ron mused. “Of course you don’t.”



It was some six months later when Harry found a small and irritable owl tapping its beak on his window, demanding entry. Harry let the owl in and fed it, before it dropped off its parcel, pecked at Harry’s fingers and flew away.

Harry had found himself bombarded by owls after the article appeared in the Prophet, most of which he had ignored. He told himself he wasn’t ready to meet anybody, but he knew that wasn’t quite the truth. While he had taken his time to come to terms with his sexual preferences, they hadn’t exactly come out of nowhere. He simply hadn’t thought about sex as much as he suspected usual teenagers might, when his mind had been full of Horcruxes and the possibility that he or his friends wouldn’t live to see the end of their school days. After Hogwarts, he had thrown himself into his work and he had pushed all ideas of romance to one side.

Harry found that the idea of taking that kind of step with anyone terrified him, and he had simply chosen to ignore the attention the Prophet article had generated. When Hermione had suggested they all go out to a club in Muggle London, Harry had come down with a timely and entirely made-up bout of flu.

The more time Harry had, the more time he spent trying to push aside the kind of thoughts he imagined would be entirely unpalatable to any potential partner. Some of his desires left him feeling hot with shame and he pushed such thoughts to one side and tried to get on with things as best he could.

After a while the owls had ceased and the Prophet had found new celebrities. With a frown, Harry wondered who would still be writing to him now the furore had died down. He turned the slim package over in his hands and opened the carefully wrapped brown paper to find a note written in elegant script, attached to the front of a plain book.

Potter

I understand from that dreadful rag the Prophet that you enjoy magazines. I thought perhaps you might like to try a book for a change.

If I am mistaken, feel free never to contact me to tell me as much.

Severus Snape.

Harry began to flip through the pages, his face hot. He couldn’t be sure how on earth Snape had any inkling about this.

Harry drummed his fingers on the table before he pulled the book back towards him and looked at the pictures and text – more slowly this time – and once again found his mind filling with images of Snape.

That night, he went back to his cupboard for the first time in ages. He carefully took out his toy car and teddy bear and pulled on his comfortable pyjamas. He slept that night on the floor, wrapped up in blankets, his mind filled with bad dreams and his teddy bear cuddled into his arms.



It was another month before Harry found himself outside a small potions store just around closing time. He thought about leaving, but now that he was there he felt he should at least be brave enough to go inside. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

“Potter.” Snape looked up when he saw Harry, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before they smoothed into a familiar scowl. “You took your time.”

“I did?” Harry closed the door behind him and shuffled awkwardly as Snape crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow.

“A month, to be exact.”

“The book came a bit out of the blue,” Harry shrugged. He shifted from one foot to another before Snape rolled his eyes.

“You can go through to my quarters, Potter. You might as well sit down, you are making the whole place look untidy.”

“Right…thanks.” Harry’s cheeks heated and he followed the line of Snape’s finger to a small door at the back of the shop. As he pushed it open he felt the heat of Snape’s body behind his own and tried to stop himself from leaning back.

“Were you expecting dungeons? Or perhaps a coffin instead of a bed?”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at that, despite the fact Snape’s voice had dipped into a low purr and the sound had gone straight to his cock.

“Perhaps – I’ll be disappointed if there aren’t a couple of jars of eyeballs, at least.”

Snape snorted and reached past Harry to push open the door. Harry looked around the comfortable living quarters with surprise, taking in the bright, light décor and the deep mahogany furniture. He grinned at the wall lined with books and wondered if they were all about potions. Some things at least, were just as he expected.

“Sit.” Snape gestured to the sofa and when Harry had settled, Snape joined him. “I imagine you have been kept busy exploring your interests with your many admirers?”

“Not exactly,” Harry replied. He watched Snape carefully but his expression was unreadable. “Not at all.”

“Indeed?” Snape arched an eyebrow and smirked at Harry. “Forgive me for being somewhat surprised not to see you throwing yourself into the gay scene with reckless abandon. I had thought that approach would fit rather well with your previous form.”

“It’s not really that easy. I’m not particularly interested in casual and I don’t much fancy telling a total stranger about my other interests.”

“Because they are so very peculiar?” Again, Snape’s expression remained smooth and unreadable, although the corner of his mouth twitched a little as if he was holding back a smile.

“Well they are a bit.” Harry glared at Severus and found he was forced to look away when he was met with another searching look.

“Of course. I assume it is your vast experience of sex that leaves you qualified to make that decision?”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but shut it again when he found he had nothing to say. As irritating as it was to admit it, Snape had a point.

“Is it common for gay men to like that sort of thing?” Harry knew he sounded hopeful and Snape responded with a roll of his eyes.

“I have been led to believe such an interest has nothing to do with sexuality. I also am not entirely sure what the nature of your interest is at the moment. That would warrant further exploration.”

“It would?” Harry knew his questioning must sound asinine, but the way Snape had emphasised the word ‘exploration’ had left him thinking all sorts of things he probably shouldn’t. “Why are you so interested, anyway?”

“It is something which appeals to me and I have indulged in such things before. Besides, I do believe I could afford you the privacy you crave while you explore your interests. You could be assured of my discretion.”

“You make it sound so businesslike,” Harry muttered.

“Did you anticipate being romanced?” Snape sounded amused and Harry shrugged.

“I don’t know what I expected. I shouldn’t have come here.” Harry stood and nearly tripped over his feet as he rushed to the door. He was quite sure his heart would pound out of his chest if he stayed. He was hot and uncomfortable, as everything became much too real with Snape talking so casually about something which caused Harry such confusion and turmoil.

“Harry…” Snape was on his feet in a flash and he reached for Harry, pulling him close by his wrist. Despite his wish to escape, Harry’s body flushed with heat at the touch and he allowed himself to be pulled closer until he was chest to chest with Snape.

“It’s not a joke.” Harry’s voice came out choked and he forced himself to meet Snape’s gaze, tipping his head back and looking at him straight on.

“I never implied that it was.” In response, Snape cupped Harry’s cheek with his hand and brushed his thumb in slow circles on Harry’s skin. The touch was unexpectedly tender and reassuring, and Harry found himself leaning into Snape’s hand.

“How did you know?”

“Legilimency. I simply saw a flicker of something in the back of your mind in your fifth year which I quickly dismissed. I was not aware of your sexual preferences and I would hardly have wished to pursue anything at that stage, even if I were. I am not in the habit of buggering my students.”

“Just former students?” Harry couldn’t help but grin and he was met with a smack on the backside.

“Cheeky boy.” Snape held Harry’s gaze and spoke in a rough murmur. He brushed his hand through Harry’s hair and slipped his arm around his waist. “Now…are we going to talk?”

“Yes,” Harry agreed, his voice breathless. “I suppose we better should.”



“You said that you could help me?” Harry took a sip of his tea and relaxed back on the sofa, while Snape sat across from him and watched him closely.

“I can help you explore your desires, if you wish.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“What do you imagine is in it for me?” Snape smirked and traced his finger over his lips while his eyes raked over Harry. “You are hardly undesirable. Foolish little twit that you are.”

“So you would enjoy it?”

“Very much indeed.” Snape paused and tapped his finger to his lips, studying Harry closely. “You will be aware from your reading that a desire to receive a spanking is not necessarily a sexual one?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “But for some people it is sexual?”

“Indeed.” Snape arched an eyebrow and seemed to be waiting for Harry to say something.

“Is it for you?” Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. “Is it sexual?”

“I find it stimulating.” Snape inclined his head and his lips quirked into the barest hint of a smile. “Does that bother you?”

“Not at all.” Harry paused while he tried to process everything. “But I’m not sure I’m ready…”

“I understand.” Snape held up his hand and placed down his drink, watching Harry. “Do you have any thoughts regarding why something such as this might appeal?”

Harry thought about the stories he had read and the one in particular which had stood out to him, but he shook his head, his cheeks hot once again.

“No idea at all.”

“Is that so? I had rather thought…” Snape’s brow furrowed and he shook his head. He patted his knee, and kept his eyes trained on Harry. “Never mind. Why don’t you come over here, Harry?”

With a nervous gulp, Harry nodded, not sure that he trusted himself to speak. He walked to Snape and stood by the armchair, watching as Snape patted his knee again. With a gulp, Harry draped himself over Snape’s knee, knowing exactly what was expected of him. He found the unexpected humiliation caused by his position both terrifying and exhilarating, and he tried to remember how to breathe.

“Like this?” Harry kept his feet on the floor as best he could, although he found he was unable to keep them flat and he had to rest the weight of his body fully across Snape’s knee. He clutched onto the armchair and felt about as ridiculous as he had ever felt. A strange part of him wanted to cry while another part of him felt hot with nerves and excitement. When Snape’s hand brushed his backside, he jerked, every nerve alive with anticipation.

“Just like that. Good boy.” With a hum of contentment, Snape brought his hand down firmly on Harry’s backside and with barely a pause, he brought it down for a second time, a third and fourth – a series of firm, dull, thwacks against the cotton trousers Harry had pulled on that morning.

“Merlin!” Harry’s voice faltered as Snape paused in his movements. “P-please…”

“Yes, Harry?” Snape sounded amused and Harry was quite sure he had never found himself in such a strange predicament.

“Please don’t stop.” He battled the urge to add Sir onto his reply, and simply pressed his backside up a little, earning himself a chuckle and a couple of light swats.

“I have no intention of stopping.” Snape brought his hand down sharply, smacking across Harry’s backside a couple of times, before running his hand over his arse.

“Thank you.” The words were out before Harry could stop them, drawn from him with another sharp smack and a gasp. He groaned with shame and pleasure as he rocked against Snape’s thigh, flinching back from the next two hard smacks, which landed where his buttocks met his thighs.

“You really are a good boy. I might have had more success keeping you from getting yourself into trouble had I employed this method sooner.” Snape’s voice was low, but teasing – a deep, rich sound, that Harry found surprisingly pleasant.

“Or perhaps I would have just got into more trouble.” Harry chuckled, and was rewarded with a series of smacks to his backside, which turned his chuckle into a groan and finally a whimper as the smacks began to smart painfully. Snape continued to praise him and reassure him he had done well, and the way Snape referred to Harry as his boy made him feel a desperate sort of ache which was entirely different to the pain caused by the spanking.

The whole of his backside was red hot and the material of his trousers rubbed against his skin uncomfortably, as he turned his body away from the next smack.

“Enough, now?” Snape stopped his movements and rubbed Harry’s backside. “Yes, enough for today, I think.”

“Thank you.” Harry wasn’t sure why he felt the need to repeat himself, but he did, nevertheless. His legs couldn’t quite seem to hold him upright and he wobbled momentarily. He wasn’t entirely sure how to behave, after being spanked until his backside was on fire by his former professor.

He continued to wobble unsteadily on his feet, his face hot as he focused on a spot on the carpet. He watched as the spot became obscured by a long, slim, shadow and with a rustle of robes and a swift movement, he found himself gathered into Snape’s arms. Everything had become so very strange and difficult to process all of a sudden, but all Harry knew was that in that one moment he needed the hug from Snape as much as he needed air to breathe.

“I have some hot chocolate in my cupboards. I don’t care for it much, but it seems like the disgustingly sweet sort of beverage which might appeal to you. I suggest we sit, then we can have a drink.”

“I like hot chocolate,” Harry replied, and held onto Snape more tightly.

“Yes.” Snape sounded amused again. “I rather thought you might.”



Harry had been back to see Snape a number of times after the first visit. Each time they had done the same thing. Snape would lead Harry into his living quarters at the back of the shop and Harry would bend over his knee. Snape would dole out a thorough spanking and they would sit together afterwards with piping hot mugs of tea and chocolate, and – when Harry had recovered sufficiently – they would talk. Although Harry was quite aware from the hard heat he felt beneath him on occasion that Snape enjoyed their routine just as much as Harry himself did, Snape had never made a move to take things any further with Harry on a sexual level and the spankings had remained fully clothed.

He found the spankings satisfied a deeper craving which he found it difficult to explain in words, but it was those times afterwards – when there was hot chocolate and warm hugs – that he felt for a small moment as if he had a home. Then the night would draw in and Harry would leave, concerned about outstaying his welcome. Sometimes he would look back at the small shop and he would see the silhouette of Snape in the window, just watching, as Harry made his way down the street.

When he returned to his own dark house, Harry would go to his cupboard and take out the couple of treasured items he had collected over the years. He would spend hours, sometimes, playing with the little collection of things he had. When bedtime came, he would pull his blankets around himself and he would sleep on the floor, trying to keep his nightmares at bay.

One night after Harry left Snape’s shop, he prepared to go to his cupboard just as he always did. He put on his fluffy tartan pyjamas and settled himself down with his teddy bear and blankets. He had just begun to play a game which involved a broken Muggle toy car and a plastic Hippogriff, when the door to the cupboard opened and his small, dark space was flooded with an intrusive light.

“What are you doing here?” Harry met Snape’s gaze, his cheeks heating, as the secret comfort of his private space shattered. He thought of losing the private moments with Snape and his secret being revealed and he wanted to cry. He looked down at his tall, adult body in ridiculous childish clothes, and a deep shame threatened to overwhelm him.

“I came to see if you wished to spend the night with me, instead of running home into the night as always.”

“You must think I’m a bloody idiot,” Harry muttered.

“Yes,” Snape agreed, and his lips quirked into a smile. “But not because of this. I do not approve of the cupboard, however.”

“Because it’s moronic?” Harry looked around his comfortable space and felt an ache of sadness.

“No. Because good boys should be able to play in the open with somebody who will look after them.” Snape’s voice was low and gruff and he held his hand out to Harry. “Come here.”

Harry stood on shaky legs and went to Snape without argument. He ducked to get out of the cupboard and held on to the offered hand.

“Would you like to go to the living room?”

“I would prefer to go to the bedroom,” Snape replied. He brushed his lips to Harry’s cheek. “Perhaps somewhere you feel most comfortable?”

“My bedroom, then.” Harry clung onto Snape’s hand and led him upstairs to his modest room – one of the smaller in the house – with a large bed in the centre. “Here we are.”

“Indeed.” Snape moved swiftly to the bed, after unbuttoning his outer robes and removing his shoes and socks. He settled onto the bed and rested his head in his hands after beckoning for Harry to join him.

“What made you follow me home tonight?” Harry shifted to the bed and curled up next to Snape, resting his cheek on his chest.

“A purely selfish desire for your company, nothing more.” Snape stroked his fingers through Harry’s hair and rubbed his other hand on the base of Harry’s spine. “Besides, I thought it was high time we progressed our current arrangement.”

“You did?” Harry tipped his head back and felt his cheeks heat. “Has this put you off?”

“Quite to the contrary.” Snape brushed his fingers over Harry’s jaw and dimmed the lights in the room, with a flick of his hand. “Tell me about your cupboard.”

Harry held Snape’s gaze and searched his face for a sign of judgment or mirth but he found neither. With a shaky breath, Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head back onto Snape’s chest and began to talk.



One Year Later

“Harry?”

“In here, Severus.” Harry opened the door to the kitchen and grinned when he saw Severus scowling at him, a puff of steam billowing around his head.

“What on earth are you doing, you twit?”

“I was making cakes – chocolate cakes.” Harry held up his hands, which were covered with flour, as Severus continued to scowl at him.

“Did any of the ingredients find their way into the oven?” Severus swiped some chocolate from Harry’s cheek and sucked his finger into his mouth with an appreciative hum.

“Some, but not all,” Harry laughed. “Where have you been?”

“Shopping for some items I wish to share with you.” Severus hung up his outer robes and began to use his wand to clean up the mess Harry had made. “But this mess makes me more inclined to spank you than spoil you.”

“Oh?” Harry pressed close to Severus and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I can understand why – I really have created an awful mess.”

“Almost as if you had planned to be deliberately aggravating,” Severus agreed. He turned and dropped his hand to Harry’s backside, pulling him close. “That would be a very naughty thing to do.”

“Perhaps I deserve some sort of punishment, then?” Harry was sure he must have looked eager, because Severus snorted and kissed his nose.

“A punishment would be confiscating your broom for a week or denying you pleasure for a fortnight. I think we both know there is no element of discipline to these spankings of yours. There are much better methods to punish naughty boys, which I am sure you will not enjoy in the slightest.”

“There are?” Harry’s happy mood dissipated somewhat at the thought of upsetting Severus.

“Yes, there are.” Severus tangled his hand in Harry’s hair and brushed their lips together. “But I rather like chocolate cake, as you know. We can talk about discipline another time – I hardly believe this is an occasion which warrants such a response, do you?”

“No, I don’t.” Harry grinned, his mood lifting again.

“It has been a few weeks since you have been thoroughly spanked, and now the idea is in my head, however…” Severus hummed thoughtfully and tapped his finger to his lips, and Harry shivered for all of the right reasons.

“We still have some time before supper's ready.”

“Well then.” Severus looked at Harry, his eyes dark. “I suggest we go to my office.”

“Yes.” With a low groan, Harry clutched Severus’ hand and walked down the corridors of Grimmauld Place to a large study. A large desk was situated to the end of the room, and a comfortable sofa faced the fire. Severus still kept the rooms connected to his shop, but the sheer size of Grimmauld Place made it the most logical place for them to spend most of their time, and Harry and Severus had worked together on making a number of rooms palatable to both of their tastes.

“A bare-bottomed spanking, I think.” Severus took his seat on the sofa and smirked at Harry, waving his hand to suggest Harry strip.

“Yes, Sir.” Harry nodded, his hands trembling as he unbuckled his trousers. He slipped them off, along with his pants, shoes and socks, and tugged his jumper over his head, his eagerness already showing. He draped himself over Severus’ lap, the position of the sofa allowing him to lie flat, in a position they both enjoyed. Although Harry liked being bent over Severus’ desk from time to time, the intimacy of being this close to Severus made this position his favourite. Despite his exposure, Harry couldn’t help but groan when Severus ran his hand over Harry’s backside and squeezed his arse cheek roughly.

The first smack to his bare skin made Harry jump. He pillowed his head in his hands, waiting for the next strike. As anticipated, Severus’ hand fell over his backside again and again. The smart and sting came quickly, as Snape applied each smack with practiced ease. He seemed to know just where to focus to elicit maximum pleasure and pain, and with every pause, Harry found himself aching for the slide of Severus’ hand over his aching backside.

Harry moaned when Severus slid his hand over Harry’s hot, tender skin and dipped his fingers into the crease of Harry’s backside. He held his breath as Severus explored him with a firm touch and groaned when Severus pressed a slick thumb against his hole, his breathing ragged. He shifted to give Severus better access and pressed his arse up a little. He had been surprised by how much he enjoyed the feeling of Severus touching him so intimately. They had taken their time working up to playing like this, and after a number of months of being teased with fingers and Severus’ tongue, Harry had found himself spread out and begging for Severus to fuck him.

“Oh Merlin.”

“Eager little thing.” With a chuckle, Severus pressed his thumb into Harry, moving and slipping out of him and returning with his finger to slide deep inside him again.

Harry scratched at the arm of the sofa and buried his head into his arms. He groaned when Severus slipped his finger from him and returned to smacking his backside again, the sting now lingering on his skin. His cock was hard and aching and when Severus shifted beneath him to press his thigh up towards Harry’s crotch, Harry rocked against him eagerly.

“Please, Severus.”

“Up, straddle me.” Severus spoke in the rough tone Harry loved and with a groan of approval, Harry pulled himself up and straddled Severus. He lifted to allow Severus to unbutton his trousers, and settled back to feel Severus’ cock nestling in the crease of his arse.

“Will you fuck me?” Harry’s voice sounded breathless and he pressed his lips to Severus’ neck, breathing in the now familiar scent of him.

“I was not planning to converse about the weather.” Severus sounded amused and he squeezed Harry’s stinging backside. “Why don’t you show me how much you want it?”

“Oh gods.” Harry nodded and reached behind himself. He found Severus had already murmured a spell to slick his cock and, with eager readiness, he aligned Severus’ cock with his hole and then pressed down with a hiss.

“Okay?” Severus brushed his lips to Harry’s, his voice gruff with desire.

“More than okay…so bloody good.” Harry rocked over Severus, feeling every movement against his prostate, the position making him feel so full, already near the edge from his spanking. He gripped onto Severus’ shoulders for leverage, moving over him, and shuddered happily when Severus wrapped his hand firmly around Harry’s cock.

Heat coiled in Harry’s stomach and, with a strangled sound, he came to completion, spilling over Severus’ hand and clenching around his cock.

“Harry.” Severus thrust up into Harry with a groan, his movements becoming more erratic. With a final growl, he captured Harry’s lips in a deep kiss and pulled him down over his cock, holding him close.

“I should make a mess of the kitchen more often.” With a chuckle, Harry rocked lightly in Severus’ lap and dropped his head to his shoulder.

“You do not have to cause havoc if you wish to do that again. I think I will be amenable to any suggestions, chocolate cake or not.” Severus’ lips quirked into a smile and he kissed Harry lightly, sliding his hand over his backside. “Do you want some ointment?”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Harry’s cheeks heated. It wasn’t that his backside hurt very badly. He simply enjoyed the way Severus would look after him in moments like this.

“Go and clean up and lie down on the bed then. I will be along in a moment.”

With a nod, Harry happily went to do as Severus asked.



“I would like to show you my purchases before supper.” Severus rubbed the ointment into Harry’s backside, his movements firm and sure.

“I had forgotten you had been shopping. A bit distracted.” Harry wiggled his backside in Severus’ general direction and was rewarded with a smack and a chuckle.

“Yes, well. You might like what I have to show you. All done.”

“Thanks.” Harry shifted onto his back and smiled at Severus, looking around. “What did you buy, then?”

“Here you go.” Severus handed Harry a brightly coloured bag.

“What is it?” Harry looked curiously at the bag and opened it up. What he saw inside made his heart clench. “S-Severus?”

“I would like you to understand that I wish to look after you. There will be no more cupboard.”

“How did you know?” Harry’s voice came out in a whisper. He had told Severus about his need to be childlike sometimes – to regress – on the first night Severus had come to Grimmauld Place. They had talked for hours about the nightmares and the times Harry struggled to sleep without his cosy blanket and teddy bear. Severus had insisted that Harry bring those desires out into the open but even now, as happy as he was, Harry hadn’t been able to do so.

“I was a spy for a good many years you silly little twit. Your attempts to suppress what you really desire fool no one.” Severus gestured to the bag. “Will you change for me?”

“If you’re sure?”

Harry hesitated and Severus gave him a pointed look. Harry reached into the bag and pulled out some soft green pyjamas with little snakes on them. He couldn’t help but laugh at the design and rubbed the soft material against his cheek. He pulled them on and returned to the bag, looking inside. He retrieved a colouring book and crayons and a beautiful wooden Hogwarts Express and a lump rose in his throat.

“Do you like your gifts, Harry?”

“This must have cost a fortune.” Harry swallowed and his voice wavered. He placed the train down very carefully and laughed with delight at the pictures in the magical colouring book, which moved around the pages. “How are you supposed to colour these in if they are always moving?”

“They stop moving when you start colouring.” Severus reached for Harry, who went willingly to him.

“Thank you.”

“Do you understand?” Severus’ voice was low, rich and smooth and he pressed his cheek to Harry’s head. “This is not something for you to hide anymore. I will not tolerate it.”

“I understand.” Harry snuggled close to Severus and thought about his colouring book and his beautiful train. He imagined putting on his pyjamas and playing with his new toys while Severus looked after him, and felt a rush of warmth. “Can I play with my train after supper?”

“Yes, of course you may.” Severus held Harry closer. “Such a good boy.”

Harry’s heartbeat quickened and he pressed closer to Severus. Not for the first time, those words made him feel warm and safe.

“Can I bring my blankets upstairs from the cupboard?”

“Yes,” Severus agreed, and stroked his hand slowly through Harry’s hair.

With a contented sigh, Harry closed his eyes and, for the first time since the war, he fell into a dreamless sleep.