Chapter Text
He never thought the boy would come back here. This house was dark; the Muggles no doubt were still asleep. It was sometime around half-past ten; Muggles no doubt had their Muggle lives, where they didn't even notice anything outside of their little box houses. He was sure they didn't even know that Potter had returned to their realm.
The magic that had sent Potter here had been Weasley-twin made (with Potter's own kind of wild magic): those boys had no idea what they'd done. He'd known from the moment Molly called, from the timber of her worried voice, which of her children she was calling about. She had a tone for each child. The one she used for Harry Potter had the high trill on the end and the soft touch at the beginning. It always ended up making him jealous...as he wanted the boy for his own.
The spell that had sent Potter here was a spell to allow one to see their secret desire... To know it, to feel it, more than likely to shame them or to wake them up, depending upon the person using the spell, and what they cast it upon. However when the boy in question had touched the simple little toy (Severus snorted.) he ended up here. The spell showed something Snape had known for a very long time. There was only one place in this house that would be considered a safe place to have any kind of longing: a hidden place, that might not be seen right away as the perfect place for this.
Snape knew better.
Harry's only safe place was his cupboard. The place where he'd been locked away to be forgotten. Put away as a tool. He would be there, waiting. None of his friends would know about this. None of them would be coming to get him; he hadn't told Molly when she'd called. He had told her to go bother the wolf. He wanted this for himself. He was a greedy, evil man after all. An ex-Death Eater with a plan.
He also doubted that anyone else could handle the boy the way he could.
His wand cut though the air cleanly, in a spell ensuring that the Muggles would not be coming down to bother them if the boy were to make a fuss. “Harry?” The name was strange on his tongue, oddly shaped... Still, he knew better than most, it was time for honey with the boy. There was a whimper, the sound of a scared animal. The sound reinforced his desire to hurt someone. Not his boy.
He opened the door and looked in at his boy. In the dim light, Potter's eyes looked so very green (Lily's eyes). “Daddy's here. Time to come out, Daddy's here to come bring you home, little one."
The words were just what Harry wanted to hear...just what he needed to hear. The look on his face was almost enough to make Severus feel guilty. He'd learned those words during those lessons years ago. He should feel guilty using them now.
Almost.
He knew what the boy needed. What Severus himself had needed. Snape waited, waited until after the war; waited until the boy was of age. Waited until his affair with the Weasley girl had ended, waited until his affairs with a few other unsuitable boys and girls had ended. Now he had him for his own. He was not letting go. He knew how to fight. He was a Slytherin -- he knew how to fight dirty.
"Daddy?” The word was a plea, a broken little plea."
(Oh yes...someone was going to pay.)
"That's correct, Harry. Come here, little one, let Daddy take you out of here.” He reached out his hand, willing Potter to take it. He could slip into the younger man's mind, but that would ruin things between them. It would cast a light of doubt, which was not needed. He needed trust. Right now it was all about trust. Later, if it was needed for the boy's safety, he could play with that trust, but right now it was too weak. They had both been played with as pawns in the war.
It seemed like ages passed before Harry's fingers finally brushed across his. He waited as the fingers moved up his hand, moving towards his wrist. Potter was exploring his hand with his own. He was so careful, unlike his older self. He was scared to take the risk and jump ahead. Severus held back his sigh once the fingers took hold of him, pulling the boy carefully to him. “Time to go home; hold on tight.”
“Home...” Potter whispered.
~~
The last thing Harry remembered was being held and feeling so safe... He felt like someone had wrapped him up in warmth. He remembered someone whispering words of comfort when he had those dreams he couldn't get away from. Now, as he opened his eyes, it was to walls that weren't his. Now, as his nose took in smells, it was smells that weren't of his flat. This bed wasn't his. Fuck! -- He was so screwed. What had he done now? He'd told Hermione there would be no more one night stands, because he couldn't take them any more. After that last guy had tried to kill him, seeing as how his mum had been a Death Eater and he thought he had to, Harry just wanted to give up dating all together.
He sat up waiting for the pain of the hangover. There wasn't any, which was odd, because the only time he went to someone else's was when he was pissed. Yet, here he was, sitting here in PJs? Fuckin' PJs with little bears on them? They looked like something a little kid would wear. Nothing a twenty-four year old would wear. They felt nice and soft against his skin, comfortable, so very soft, he could melt into them. He ran his hands over them, allowing himself to feel them. He felt his sex harden just a little. It was the comfort. Not just the softness, but the very idea of being held.
There was a flash of last night, slowly coming back to him... Being saved from his cupboard, the dark man pulling Harry to him. He'd fitted so perfectly, his head underneath the other man's. He fell back onto the bed, turning his head to meet the dark eyes of what could only be a teddy bear. He moaned -- much louder than he meant to.
“Harry?”
'Snape?' a part of his mind said; the other part screamed 'Daddy!' Harry sat up, looking at him as he came in. The man was dressed in slacks: something Harry had never seen. Something Harry was sure he should have seen more often. “Um, hi?"
“Oh, I see you have finally come up. Your clothing is in the wash. Why don't you join me at the table; breakfast is about ready, Potter. We must speak.” Severus just about gave him whiplash the way he went from the smooth, gentle tone to the matter-of-fact voice he was accustomed to.
Snape stood there waiting, watching Harry -- which made Harry a little uncomfortable. It also reminded him that he was still slightly hard underneath his PJs -- which was going to make him go pink. He wasn't sure how much this was going to show. Harry didn't move, and he watched as Snape's eyebrow rose. “The bathroom will be to your right. Do hurry, or your breakfast will be cold.”
Harry felt an odd need to hurry. He normally took a shower right when he got up, but something about doing what Snape said tugged at him. He wasn't sure about that feeling. It was new. It sure the hell hadn't been there when he was in school. He'd always felt the need to push at Snape for some reason.
His nose found him the kitchen; he shouldn't be surprised that a Potions Master could cook.
A child's plate had been set upon the table and pushed aside as well as a silverware set; there was even a cup. Harry's heart flipped in his chest -- it all matched: now there was a plate that matched Snape's, a glass that matched Snape's; all the things a proper adult should use. He couldn't take his eyes off the blue plate with the little trains around the edge. They were moving along their tiny tracks; clearly this was not a Muggle plate.
The cup had just a picture of the train: a cartoon with a large smile, green eyes. He felt so warm inside! He sat down, looking at the plain white plate which was placed carefully at the second chair now. He watched Snape cook. “Did you have a child here before, Sir?” Harry asked carefully.
“Only you, Potter.”
"But the teddy bear, the PJs, dining set, all of these. Who are they for?”
~~
Now was a telling moment: Either the boy was going to enjoy the fact that Snape was very thoughtful...or he was going to think Snape was a stalker. Which indeed he was. Which Draco had told him often enough, when he'd made him tell what he knew of Potter's comings and goings. “They are all for you, Harry. Each of them are for you.” He looked at the boy, making sure as he spoke his name that the boy saw the look in his eyes.
“You went to the cupboard last night, didn't you? You didn't want a white knight to save you? You wanted a Daddy. You wanted someone who would take control. You wanted to feel safe enough to have what you didn't have when you left that cupboard before. It was your safe place. Wasn't it, Harry?” His voice was soft. Honey. He would drizzle Harry with honey, then lick it off, and later they would find out if Harry would rather have pain when he was up -- and whether little Harry liked dolls or trucks. Dresses or jeans.
"It was mine. They even said so. I could feel safe there...most of the time at least. I wanted my Daddy to save me.” Harry stole a look over at the child's dining set. Snape couldn't help the smile. It was the smile he'd had when he'd put his boy to bed last night. When he'd given the boy the bear. The smile was endless, enough to warm him: he'd been far too cold, for far too long...
"He did last night, Harry.” He could see the protest starting in that mouth, those lips starting to open and anger starting to bloom. “Think about it, how you responded to your PJs-”
“How did you-” he interrupted.
Snape held up his hand, smirking.
“I saw a lot during our lessons, but our breakfast is getting cold. Hand me your plate, Harry, and we shall eat. Then you shall take a shower and we will speak again.” He could almost see the 'but' forming.
The nod was small and the blue plate was handed up without a word. Severus merely smiled at Harry, because he knew it was a sign that he was wanted. His boy was coming out of his shell, and was going to be his by the end of this day. At least that was his hope. You never knew with Potter.
~~
He felt so much better after his shower; he always felt better when he was clean. It also gave him some time to think, which he felt grateful for. He knew what he was doing when he'd reached up the plate. The trains as he looked at them reminded him of the train to Hogwarts -- which made him chuckle (giggle). He'd used the adult fork and the adult cup, because he'd needed coffee, but the imbalance had made him feel off. Part of him wanted to steal sips from Snape's, another thing he'd always thought of doing with his parents' tea cups. It would be naughty... Or would it be a game? Sitting in their lap, being read to...
He closed his eyes. Letting the water spill over his face, he pictured kisses, with strong arms around him. His cock hardened, his mouth opening in a moan. Shaking his head, he looked forward at the tile. This wasn't normal. Wanting a parent's love was, but turning it into something sexual was not. He could see Snape's point, that he was the better choice last night, better than Remus, way better than James.
God, he pictured sitting on Snape's lap. Couldn't he? He trusted Snape, after all, with everything around the war, after the man saving his life and Harry saving his. He could trust this man. He could trust him with this. Snape knew things about him, and he knew things about Snape. He couldn't take it any longer; fingers wrapped around his penis, teeth catching at his lip.
He didn't want to make a sound.
Being wrapped up in those blankets...
His hand felt so good on his cock, but his would be better, he would take better care of Harry, wouldn't he? He would show Harry how to do it right? He was much older than Harry. Old enough to be Harry's father.
Lips on his forehead...
Fingers gathered water and pre-come along his aching sex, his eyes rolling back as his other hand travelled along his chest, moving over scars and flat skin alike. He moaned as his fingers found a nipple. If he was a good boy, how would Snape treat him? If he was a bad boy, how would it be different? His face greeted water again, kisses. Snape would steal away the air in his lungs if he kissed him.
Strong hands, his fingers moving over it, long fingers, strong arms around him, holding him, keeping him safe...holding him, holding him away from the monsters in his dreams...
God; that man's hands. Watching that man's hands in class, so strong, large hands, he remembered wondering what those hands could do. Snape more than likely would love spanking Harry if he was a naughty little boy. “Oh, fuck...” His head almost met the back of the shower. His eyes closed tight. Even better than that man's hands, was the man's voice. Pitchy, dark, and smooth...
"Daddy's here, Harry...”
Words whispered in the dark of the night pushed him over the edge so hard, he nearly forgot his own name. Harry was so screwed....and he knew it. Happily screwed.
~~
There had been a time when he had forgotten all about Harry's little den, when he couldn't've cared less about poor little Potter. When he had been too hurt with righteous anger to look at the boy. However, when he had looked at him with clearer eyes and mind, things had come back to him. Something else had awoken in him, something had pulled at him, and now it was all coming together, which was why he was not ready to let the boy go. He did inform all that he'd found their boy(man)-hero. That Harry was well, needed time to pull himself together from whatever that horrible spell had done to his poor already-addled mind.
That earned a glare from Molly. Oddly enough, also a snicker from Twin one behind his mother's back. Perhaps he caught the joke. He did say Riddle after all. There was hope for at least one of those twins.
He felt the sheer sexual pull of Potter's magic beat at him, it caught him low and drove him hard in seconds. He hadn't felt this way in years. Perhaps Potter did not know what he was doing, did not cast the proper spells, the young man was so focused on him. Inside his own wards. His wards were warning him. Telling him, showing him. Didn't Potter understand? The energy prickled over his skin, making it so sensitive.
This wasn't how he wanted this to happen. Not from afar, not with walls, pipes, and magic between them - honey and trust would be poured down. He smiled. He could almost taste the boy's lips. Taste his cries as he could taste his pleasure like his magic. He would play with him at a later time. Show him how to block this. Potter would make such a better student as his little one, he would follow his rules so much better.
Severus moved away from the kitchen leaving the washing; he knew better than to stand there with Potter washing over him. Every step was hard, his body wanted to go towards his boy, not away from. Each time he turned towards the sitting room rather than the bathroom, his body screamed at him. When he lowered himself into the chair it was a good thing because he all but felt Harry's pleasure in the rush of energy.
Severus Snape purred with it, his lungs taking in air hard as he spoke so softly to the room: “Daddy's waiting, little one.”
~~
He removed the steam from the mirror to get a really good look at himself: for the first time in what felt like weeks there weren't dark bags under his eyes. He looked like he'd slept a full night's rest. Which hadn't been normal since the war. If he was honest with himself he wasn't sure if he'd ever really slept a full night's rest in a very long time before that. Here and there, in fear of being yanked out of his cupboard. At Hogwarts, being too happy at being at school at first, then being worried who was going kill him in his sleep.
Yet, here in Snape's house, under Snape's watch, he'd slept perfectly. There seemed to be something to this: he'd even eaten everything that Snape had put in front of him, instead of picking at his food. He had been feeling so restless, lately. Everyone wanted him to find something to do with his life, and he wasn't sure what he wanted. They wanted to tell him what he wanted. Harry wanted to do nothing for a while. Help Fred and George in the shop.
Or maybe that was a bad idea, if he had ended up in that bloody cupboard. He looked into his eyes in the mirror and sighed. He should get out of here before Snape thought... 'Before Snape thinks what, Harry? You're jerking it to thoughts of him?' His inner voice could be such an arse when it was right.
He stepped out of the bathroom, and moved through the house; when he found the man, he was reading, but there was an air about him that made Harry feel like he hadn't just come all over the man's shower.
“Professor?” The title came out sounding a little weak, making Harry sound like a scared first-year.
“I'm not your professor, am I?” He nodded to the other comfortable looking chair across from him. It looked like it was made of dark leather. Harry wondered if was made of cow, or if it was made out of something else. The wizards always seemed to be finding ways of having things made out of odd things -- dragons, unicorns; when perfectly good things like cows could be used. He settled into the chair, and sighed at the comfort of the thing. The leather felt like butter, it was so smooth, it felt nice on his skin, he couldn't help but run his fingers over it.
"Potter?”
He looked up from the distraction of the chair, his eyes going to Severus.
Severus?
'Well, Hell, Harry, if you're going to rub one out to calling the man Daddy, might as well call him Severus.' Harry took a breath; his inner voice being an arse he could handle, his inner voice sounding like Ron and talking about that, he wasn't sure about. It almost made his head hurt.
"Er, yes, I guess not, I am not in school any more, am I? I could call you Severus. I mean can I...may I please call you Severus?” Snape was going to kick him right out of the house. Laugh at him, tell all of the papers that Harry Potter wanted to be treated like a little kid and jerks off in showers.
“Yes, Harry.” That broke Harry off his little twisting in circles. “But we both know that's just not what you want to call me, is it.” How could this man's voice sound so good, cruel, and yet retain that taste of gentleness he could remember from last night which he'd just lost himself to in the shower..?
He sat there, not sure what to say... Because Severus was right, was it fear holding his tongue, holding him back? He had this need inside of him, to have someone take care of him, like he was -- like he was...was...some kind of infant? He could take care of himself! He had been taught from a very young age that adults in his life weren't to be counted upon for affection or love. To make you feel safe. Yet even in the shower, he had wanted what the older man was talking about. They had this history.
"Maybe if I had some time to think about it,” he said. Still, even as the words passed his lips, he knew it wasn't a good idea."
“You would run from this and never come back. You would think about it in bed at night, go back to dating whoever crossed your path and doing whatever people want you to instead of fighting for what you want to. Isn't that right?” Severus folded his hands on the open book in his lap; it was lying there forgotten.
Harry was just watching his hands. He could remember the way those hands felt in his hair.
“Answer me, Harry.”
“I suppose you're right."
"You know I'm right, otherwise you never would have touched that toy. You knew what it was, didn't you, Harry. You knew what it might do. You had some idea. You grew up with the Twins.” Severus' face wasn't unkind. He was still being straight-forward. Something had to be straight in the room; it should be the matter at hand, Harry mused. That didn't make anything easier.
" I didn't think I would end up in the cupboard!” He didn't mean to raise his voice. “I didn't think I would end up a bloody five year old!” But he had.
“I'd say more like four or a little younger. You might slide; it might depend on how stressed you are. We'll learn. You might even go back to your teenage years.” Severus smirked which to Harry made his cock forget all about the shower fun time.
"Oh god, you're not helping at all, you know that?”
“I plan on helping, Harry; I enjoyed my time with you last night. Taking care of you. I would've enjoyed having breakfast with you small. This morning...was...enjoyable as well.” He spoke carefully.
Harry snorted. “You sound like you care.”
"You would think, Potter, that you get that I do. I wish to see how things would grow between us.”
He could hear that Snape was getting tired of him pushing him. Harry was doing the same thing he had been doing to everyone. Pushing and pushing until they would give up and leave him alone. It was the only way he could get some peace. This time it might not be a good idea.
Harry sighed, maybe Snape was doing this because of Lily, his mother. Because he'd taken away Harry's childhood. Some sense of guilt? “Is this because of my mother?”
Severus was up and across the room, his hand in Harry's hair and Severus tilted his head up to look. Harry couldn't tell whether the loud bang he'd heard was the loud banging of his heart or the loud bang of the book falling to the floor; it might be his heartbeat after all, because he could still hear it.
The man's eyes were so dark.
His lips so close.
His body was pressing him into the chair. “I want you. No one else has anything to do with this, Harry; you won't doubt yourself in front of me.” The kiss wasn't what he thought it was going to be. The kiss was soft, gentle; it was simply lips meeting lips. It still made Harry moan, as Severus brushed his lips over Harry's lips, then moved them over his nose, his closed eyes, and his forehead.
"When you say 'yes', Harry, I will give you another kiss. The kind of kiss you wanted while you were in the shower. Only then will I kiss you that way.”
He could feel the warm breath on his forehead; it smelled like coffee. Snape himself smelled earthy, oddly like home.
“I'll say 'yes' now?” Harry asked, watching Severus, breathing him in, he could, he could take it all in
"No, you'll take some time and really think about it before you do something you think I want you to do. What do you want, Harry?”
The only thing Harry had ever wanted was to have a home, to feel safe and loved. He'd wanted that almost his whole life, before he even had words for it. He wanted to know what it was like, to sleep peacefully, and without nightmares.
"Could we try it...I mean, again, before I make my mind up, today? Call this a dry run? If it doesn't work out, say no hard feelings? Because you say I might like this, need this, but I can't quite remember last night... But this might work.” Would Snape say no? Harry held his breath: it felt like a lifetime before Severus answered him
"Yes, little one, why don't you go put your PJs back on. We can have some down time today.”
~~
Harry was a little unsure of himself, but he wanted to do this, was grateful that he was getting dressed without Snape watching because he remembered what the PJs had done to him last time. He could already feel his cock getting hard. He knew he was feeling his body react. It shouldn't be, yet, considering what had happened in the shower, but his body was being greedy today, because it knew what it was going to find once it got into the bedroom.
There, laid out on the bed, was that soft perfect sleep shirt and trousers, the teddy bear was lying right next to them, looking like something Harry wanted to rub all over his body. His cock was still so very sensitive from before. By the time he picked up the teddy bear and rubbed his face along it, rubbing his lips along in a kiss, he wanted to thank the teddy for watching over his sleep. So he placed a wet sloppy kiss on the bear's forehead.
"Good bear,” he whispered into the fur. He was so soft, made him feel so safe, that was why his body was reacting. He pulled himself away from the bear, which was so hard -- because he wanted to play with the bear. But Daddy wanted him to get changed. He pulled down his pants. His underpants were all wet! He would have to get dressed without them!
He would also have to hurry. He'd taken far too long, playing with the teddy.
~~
Severus watched as Harry got up to go the bedroom. He would give the boy a few minutes before going to check on him as a Daddy should. His heart had gone from his chest right into his ears when Harry had asked to stay. He had his own work to do as the boy got dressed, a blanket from the cupboard was spread out across the floor so that Harry could play there.
He would have to transfigure a few toys for now: a few lorries, another teddy bear, a stuffed snake (thank you very much), and some blocks to place upon the blanket. He would find out what his boy liked. More importantly, his boy would find out what his boy liked. How his boy wanted to play -- if he wanted his Daddy to be near, or just to watch?
He had a feeling the boy would want him near for this. He looked towards the bedroom door and frowned; yes, he would have to go collect his child. He rose from kneeling on the edge of the blanket.
“Harry?” He pushed open the door, finding the young one fighting with his buttons on his shirt.
Harry looked up, his hands shaking. “I'm sorry, I was trying to be fast...” The boy sounded so scared.
"Hush, Harry. You are not in trouble.” Hexes were too good for those people. He wanted to bloody them. He didn't let it show on his face, as he put his hands over Harry's gently. “Daddy likes helping you. May Daddy help you?"
Harry bit his lip, looking a little worried -- then nodded, very slowly, “Um, okay, Daddy. Please.” He stood up a little taller. Severus smiled. It was clear that Harry could do the buttons if he weren't trying to rush, but it gave them both a little bit of joy as Daddy's long, careful fingers put Harry's clothing to rights. Harry's eyes watched so carefully. Severus had to bite his lip so that he didn't laugh as he finished.
He was sure if the boy had watched him this closely in potions class, his grades would have been far better. Severus put his hands on Harry's shoulders when he was done, looking at the boy. “See, all done - and now, we can play.” He rubbed the boy's shoulders. The boy's smile was a reward that spread through him like wildfire. It was one he hadn't seen in years.
The boy almost vibrated in place at the world 'play'. Severus was sure the boy hadn't got to play very often, which was very sad. He put his hand on the back of Harry's shoulder and walked him to the sitting room. “I want you to sit on the blanket and play. If you need to get up, you ask Daddy. I can play with you, as well. But I want to keep you and all of your toys on the blanket. Do you understand, Harry? I don't want you getting dirty.”
Harry nodded big. “Yes Daddy, I understand... Please, can we play now?” Harry eyed the blanket and the toys like it was all going to be taken away. Severus knew this kind of thing might have been taken away before. Severus nodded. Then he gently pushed the child towards the play area.
"There now, you are trapped until Daddy lets you go,” the older man said playfully. Harry tugged on his hand, pulling his Daddy onto the blanket with him.
“You're trapped with me too, Daddy, until I let you go. I say so.” That said so much about his new boy. It said that he was doing the right thing. Severus smirked as he messed his boy's hair. Not that it had ever been neat before. He'd have to try to do something about that. He feared that could be a lifetime job, trying to keep the boy's hair neat.
“Daddy's not going anywhere, Harry; he's staying right here with you, little one. What do you want to play with? The lorries or the blocks?” He pulled the boy against him so that his back was on his chest. They could sit like this awhile. Severus was enjoying the heat, the sheer warmth of the boy. His body was surrounding his baby.
“I can touch your toys, Daddy?”
Severus frowned, then looked at him, putting his fingers under Harry's chin. “Little one, these are your toys. Daddy made them for you.” He lifted Harry's face to look into his eyes. “I want you to have them. I should be asking if I can touch your toys, Harry.” Maybe later he would show older Harry his toys, but these were for his baby; he couldn't believe his baby didn't believe these were his. Harry's eyes looked wet. He hugged his Daddy tightly. “Thank you, Daddy...let's play with the blocks...please...and the lorries...can we make a road for the trucks to drive on...please...thank you! I've never had such good toys before.”
Severus almost wanted to remind him of his broom, but this was different. He felt a sense of pride at having won something over the dog. These were real toys, something that his boy had wanted and he had gotten for him. Perhaps his small one wasn't thinking of the broom as something he'd played with. He would have to remember that. So much he had to learn.
Severus nodded, helping Harry line up the colourful blocks along the blanket. The boy was so careful -- not one toy had touched off the blanket. Severus watched him with a close eye. He wanted to make sure. He knew that Harry might test him; he also knew that Harry was acting very jumpy. Severus was taking every chance he could to touch the boy. He seemed so touch starved -- he moved into every touch like a cat.
When the road was all done, Harry got onto his hands and knees to drive the lorry around the blanket. Severus sat back to watch. “Don't go too fast, Harry; you'll knock the blocks off,” he warned.
"Yes, Daddy." He put his cute arse in the air, walking on his knees making the sounds. Severus leaned back watching him. This was perfect, this was lowering his blood pressure as much as it was doing good for Harry.
The lorry made its stops around the blanket, picked up the snake, and that perhaps was its downfall because the snake's tail was what knocked some of the blocks over -- causing a few to catapult clear across the room! Harry didn't even notice at first. Severus had his eyes closed, enjoying the music of Harry's giggles. It wormed its way into him, like a melody that wouldn't leave him alone: he couldn't help the crooked half smile that grew. However, when that stopped and he didn't feel Harry close, Severus opened his eyes...only to see Harry off the blanket! He frowned. Harry's hand was wrapping around a block.
“Harry? What did I tell you about getting off the blanket?” He knew that this was going to happen, but he wanted to show Harry that he would take care of him. Show him that he could handle anything that came their way.
“Not...to. “ His voice was soft as if he was unsure. Harry held the block tightly, his eyes went to it and held on to the toy, he looked at it, then moved over to the blanket, getting back onto it. “I'm sorry, Daddy! I didn't mean to upset you.” The boy was shaking for a whole 'nother reason now.
“I know, Harry, but you need to follow your Daddy's rules. You need to show your Daddy that you can. Harry, you're not going to upset me if you make a mistake, but you will upset your Daddy if you break a rule on purpose. This wasn't a mistake, was it, Harry?”
Harry whimpered. There were tears now. Part of Severus liked the tears; it meant he was getting through to his boy. He knew what his baby needed, what he wanted: he wanted to be shown that Snape wasn't going to back down now.
Harry looked down, shaking his head. Clearly the boy had made the choice to leave the blanket without asking. Which did not please Severus -- today was a dry run, he had to know how few or many rules he had to set for Harry. Clearly the boy needed rules. Strong rules.
"Harry, over my lap.”
"NO! Daddy, please.” Harry backed away from his Daddy.
"Don't yell at me, Harry, you'll make this much worse for yourself.” Severus frowned with a shake of his head.
Harry stiffened as he sat where he was, then he nodded to himself, clearly upset.
"Now, Harry, you broke the rule, therefore now you get the punishment. Daddy said if you needed something you were to ask him. Did I not?”
"Yes, Daddy.
"Then come here, little one.” He patted his lap. Harry moved over his Daddy's lap, his teeth holding onto his lower lip. Severus' fingers gently brushed that poor lip. “None of that, now, Harry; I don't want you to hurt yourself. Do you understand, Harry?"
“Yes,” Harry whispered, licking his lips, his tongue flicking across Snape's fingers. Severus smiled at the playful tongue. That wasn't going to get Harry out of his spanking. That wasn't going to happen today. Harry wasn't up for that today. Though it was tempting. He placed the boy carefully over his lap so that he could feel him, then lowered the boy's sleep trousers.
"Are you ready, Harry?” The boy hadn't put underwear on under his PJs; Severus was looking down at his smooth pale arse. On his lap he was feeling the boy's soft penis. “Harry, what happened to your pants?”
"They were dirty, Daddy.” Harry blushed, his face pressed to the side of Severus' leg. “I'm sorry, please don't be mad. I got them wet.”
"You peed your pants? Do I have to put you in a nappy, Harry?” He rubbed the line along one cheek, watching the boy go pinker; even his bottom was blushing, his cock hardening slightly. This was very interesting to Severus. They were going to find out so much about each other.
"No, no, Daddy! I got too happy thinking about playing with you so I had to take them off. Was that bad, Daddy...? I touched myself too, Daddy...it felt good, I know that's wrong, but I couldn't help myself. It felt so good, Daddy.” Harry pressed into him in a way that meant he was looking for those good feelings again. Which Severus was going to control.
“Feeling good is never wrong, Harry. There will be rules for everything, because you belong to me as of now and I will not let you hurt yourself. You understand, little one?” He gave a little smack, not as hard as they were going to be, but enough to get Harry to take notice.
"Yes, Sir!” Oh, Severus liked that! Just as much as he liked 'Yes, Daddy'. Severus nodded his approval over the answer.
“I hoped you forgot, Daddy.”
Severus laughed. He could see how Harry would hope that, but that wasn't going to happen. “Harry, I will never forget to punish you. It shows that I will take care of you. You will have ten this time, then five minutes at the wall to think.”
“Do I have to?” Harry whimpered, more scared of the wall time and being alone.
"Yes, Harry, I will be right here. Why am I punishing you?” Severus asked.
"'Cause I got off the blanket when I wasn't supposed to...and I was supposed to ask you to get off...and my toys fell off the blanket. That's why...I think.” He almost bit his lip again, but he licked them instead. Knowing that might make it worse. “I...broke your rule.”
“Good boy,” Severus said, pulling him more steadily onto his lap to get ready. “Hold on and don't forget to count, because if you miss a number, I will start over. It's also all right to make as much sound as you want.” He rubbed his hand over Harry's bum one more time, getting a feel of it once more. Then he brought his hand up and let it fall hard.
“One, Daddy, ouch...ouch, Daddy..." Harry whimpered.
Severus let his hand fall two more times, listening for the numbers. When they came, he nodded to Harry, letting him know he was doing good. Two and three sounded a little better, a little more needy, like he was trying so hard to please his Daddy. Which indeed pleased his Daddy. His penis was hard. No doubt not from the spanking but from the act of being over Severus' lap. Of being taken care of; the mere fact that Severus was caring enough to punish the Boy-Who-Lived in this manner, or in a way that was fair.
“Five!”
The pain made his sex not go completely up, but he if he touched him, he could get him there. That was an airy feeling. One that Severus was not letting get to his head. Only those who did not know what they were doing would. “Good boy, Harry, half way there. These are going to be harder and closer together. Can you take it, little one?” The boy whimpered and nodded.
Harry wasn't the only one who was hard. Severus' pants were cutting into his own sex. Which added to the pleasure of the moment, more intense, he hadn't had this in such a long time that he wanted this to last for him. He understood that Harry wanted this over as soon as it could be.
Harry counted as fast as he could to keep up with his Daddy's hand. With the last blow they both were breathing hard. When his baby boy said “Ten,” he was so proud of him for taking his first punishment that he leaned down and kissed his head. His hand rested on Harry's backside. He had a feeling he would have to get a pair of gloves, as his boy liked to get into trouble. He prayed that wouldn't be so, but he was dealing with Harry Potter.
Perhaps the younger version was different than the one at Hogwarts, this one wanted to please so badly. Considering how his childhood went the first time around, Severus was not surprised. His fingers ran over the red skin.
“Such a good boy for your Daddy. You took all of that, didn't you, Harry.”
Harry looked up at him, with glasses knocked askew, hair pasted to forehead from the sweat that had gathered, lips red and plump from where he'd bitten again -- Severus would have to deal with that.
This had been the boy he'd fought with for years. The one he'd wanted to take over his knee so many times. Had hated, had secretly loved, lusted for. He watched Harry's eyes, begging him for things he knew the boy didn't understand. He had so much to learn. Severus may not be his Professor, but he was his Daddy. If he had to lock the boy up in this house until he understood, he'd do it. This boy needed looking after. Not just when he was small. The man needed it just as much -- if not more.
“Daddy is never letting you go, little one.”
The boy could live with that.
(And he did.)