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Severus sat at his desk, absorbed in the task of grading a pile of tests from the day's lessons. He had always preferred to complete this work the same evening, ensuring that everything was neatly finished by the morning. As he scribbled notes and corrections, the sound of a knock broke through his concentration. He sighed in annoyance, leaning back from the desk.
He wasn’t in the mood to deal with any student tonight. If some frightened little Slytherin had come to him after a nightmare, he would have comforted them, but that was unlikely. If there was an emergency, he would deal with it, of course, and if it was some student causing trouble, he wouldn’t hesitate to send them back to their bed with a few harsh words. That’s how things worked with a house full of young Slytherins, after all.
Standing up, he threw his cloak over his pajamas and made his way to the door. When he opened it, he was met with the calm, composed figure of Caden, a sixth-year prefect, standing in the hallway.
“Professor,” the boy said evenly, his voice betraying no sign of distress. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I need to inform you that Draco is in the common room again.”
Of course.
Severus didn’t need to be told twice. His godson, Draco, had once again chosen to spend the night in the common room, rather than retreating to his dormitory like any sensible student. The boy had a tendency to take things to extremes, and this wasn’t the first time Severus had received a report about his late-night habits.
Draconis was an enigma. At eleven years old, he had already demonstrated a level of focus and ambition that made Severus think—just for a moment—that perhaps the boy could become something extraordinary. Draco had a level of ambition and focus that was uncommon in children his age. Unlike most students, who spent their evenings gossiping or obsessing over Quidditch, Draco had buried himself in his studies. His nights were spent with quill in hand, carefully taking notes and reading far beyond the requirements of his year. Severus had even overheard other professors comment on how sharp the boy’s mind was for a first-year.
Yet, for all his intellectual promise, that didn’t mean Severus had to like it. In reality, he couldn’t help but feel a deep frustration with him.
Draco had developed a habit of retreating into the common room late at night, not just to study, but to brood. He would spread his notebooks out before him, scribbling furiously, his brow furrowed with frustration whenever he didn’t immediately achieve the perfection he expected from himself. Severus had tried on many occasions to encourage, to order him to rest, to accept that mistakes were part of learning, that one couldn't always be perfect. But it was as if the concept of failure simply didn't exist in Draco’s world. Success was the only acceptable outcome, and this single-minded obsession with perfection was exhausting.
It was an admirable trait… but a rather tiresome one.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, irritation rising.
“Thank you, Caden. I’ll handle it. You’re dismissed.”
Caden gave a respectful nod and left quickly, and Severus was left alone in the quiet of his office. He let out a long, frustrated sigh, muttering a curse under his breath.
It had started innocently enough. In the beginning, Severus had thought Draco was simply a hardworking student. His marks had been impressive, as expected, and the boy had shown a rare dedication to his studies.
But then the late-night study sessions had begun.
It had seemed harmless at first; the boy was trying to improve, after all. But as the days wore on, and the reports from prefects began to increase, it became clear that something wasn’t right.
At first, Severus had simply scolded Draco, sending him back to his dormitory with a warning. But the next night, the same scene had played out. Draco had argued that he couldn’t study properly in his dormitory, where his housemates complained about the disturbance of late-night murmurs and flickering candlelight.
Severus had tried to reason with him, berated and scolded, but Draco’s insistence that his father, had told him to study until he had mastered everything, to always strive for perfection, only made Severus’s frustration grow.
The boy’s obedience to his father’s demands was as admirable as it was exhausting. Lucius had raised him to believe that anything less than perfection was unacceptable. Severus had cursed the elder Malfoy for instilling such an unhealthy mindset in the boy, knowing it would be the source of endless struggles for both of them.
Draco was no slacker—Severus could see that. His academic achievements were extraordinary for someone his age, perfect for a fine wizard in making. But Severus also recognized the signs of obsessive behavior, of a student pushing himself too hard, too fast, at the expense of his well-being.
As the days passed, Draco’s late-night escapades became more frequent. More than once, Severus had heard reports from the prefects: Draco wandering the hallways at odd hours, seeking solitude in the shadows. The boy’s pale face, lit by the dim glow of a single candle, haunted Severus’s thoughts. It was a dangerous pattern, and Severus knew it was unsustainable.
He moved swiftly through the corridors, heading toward the common room with a growing sense of dread. He hoped — no, wished — that this time he wouldn’t find Draco there, sulking in some corner, determined to conquer his studies at the expense of everything else.
But of course, when Severus entered the common room, there he was: Draco, curled up on one of the furthest sofas, pajamas askew, books scattered around him, his blonde hair falling into his face as he furiously scribbled away in his notebook.
This wasn’t healthy. This wasn’t sustainable.
“Draconis.” Severus’ calm voice cracked through the silence of the common room like a whip.
Draco flinched, his heart leaping into his throat as he looked up, panic flashing across his face. His hand immediately shot out to try and cover the half-finished essays scattered across the table, but it was already too late. Severus was standing in the doorway, robes billowing with the force of his anger.
“S-ev!” Draco yelped, his voice cracking slightly. “I—I’m just—”
“You’re just what?” Severus said calmly, yet his black eyes flashed with fury as he stalked toward Draco. “You’re just breaking curfew again? You’re just ignoring everything I’ve said about discipline? What is it this time, hm? Just one more hour of pointless studying?“
“I’m not—” Draco began, defensive and furious, but Severus silenced him with a cutting glare.
“Do not talk back to me,” Severus growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ve been here for, what, hours past curfew? It’s the fourth time in a row. You think this is acceptable? You think you can just waltz around the castle, ignoring the rules as if they don’t apply to you?”
Draco turned away, fists clenched at his sides, his temper flaring. “I’m trying to study! I’m trying to do the right thing, isn’t that what’s school for?”
Severus’ lips curled into a frown. “What matters is my expectations, child. My rules. Which I thought I made incredibly clear with the lines you had to write just this week!” ah yes. “But you, standing here — this late, in my common room — disrespecting both, are a disappointment.”
“I’m not disrespecting anyone!” Draco shot back, his voice rising. “I’m just trying to finish something! You wouldn’t understand what it’s like. It’s not like I can just give up on everything. I’m not like you—wasting away on your own rules—”
“Enough!” Severus’ voice cracked through the air like a thunderclap. “Do not compare yourself to me. You have no idea what discipline, responsibility, or hard work means. What you have is arrogance. And, apparently, a complete lack of common sense.”
Draco’s face flushed with both anger and humiliation, but his pride pushed him forward, refusing to back down. “I am working hard!“
Severus’ expression might have softened as he watched over his determined little serpent, if it hadn’t been well past midnight and if Draco’s attitude hadn’t been so far from pleasant due to his exhaustion. “You are not invincible, Draco. You are a child. A child who thinks he can defy everything. Do you know what happens to children who think they know better than everyone else?” Draco opened his mouth to answer, yet Severus continued. “They fall apart, you foolish boy. I won’t let you keep up this charade of overwork without consequences.”
Draco felt his chest tighten as his anger flared once more, but this time it was laced with something darker—something like fear. But then again, that wasn't exactly surprising, considering Severus was his godfather.
He flashed an hesitant glare at the man, jaw clenched. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help, I don’t need your—your lectures. I’m fine. You think I don’t know how to handle myself?”
“Clearly, you don’t,” Severus shot back. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t be in here at this hour, running on fumes, trying to force yourself through work you can’t even see straight enough to finish. This is pathetic, Draconis. Completely pathetic.”
Draco’s breath hitched. He opened his mouth to protest again, but the words died in his throat.
Was what Severus said harsh? Perhaps. He knew, deep down, that he had been foolish too—failing to keep an eleven-year-old boy in his dormitory at night and then resorting to arguing with him. But Severus was equally exhausted by Draco’s behavior, and despite his love for the boy, he was surprised he hadn’t lost his temper entirely yet and brought Draco over his knee right then and there. (Though, Draco certainly wasn’t entirely safe from a sound hiding either).
“Enough. I’ve tolerated this far too long.” Severus cut off. “I am taking you to my quarters. Now.”
Draco’s stomach twisted. His chest was tight with emotion, the anger and the exhaustion mixing in an overwhelming surge. He was too tired to think clearly. His head swam, but he couldn’t let Severus see it. He couldn’t let him win.
“I don’t care,” Draco muttered, but his voice wavered, betraying his exhaustion. “You can’t just—”
“I can,” Severus cut him off, his voice frighteningly calm. “You are not an exception, child. Now, you better watch that mouth of yours, or so help me, I’ll make you regret it. Do you understand me?”
Draco’s lips parted, but the fight was leaving him. The exhaustion, the pressure, the constant strain—he couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t get to him. He couldn’t pretend to be invincible. Not anymore.
With a soft sniffle, he mumbled, “Yes, sir.”
“Good,” Severus replied sharply, voice unwavering.
But then, just one glance at the little boy sitting on the couch—too large for his small frame—sniffling and curling in on himself, made everything change. Despite the shouting match they’d just had, Draco looked so innocent, so vulnerable, that Severus couldn’t help but soften, his resolve weakening with a sigh.
That brat.
“Come on,” he muttered, extending his arm toward Draco.
The blonde boy stood slowly, head bowed, yet before Severus could say another word, Draco flung himself into his godfather’s chest, his body weight crashing into Severus without warning.
Severus exhaled in resignation, his arm instinctively wrapping around Draco’s small frame, his other hand dissolving of the papers and books off the table with a flick of his wand.
“Let’s get you to bed, yes?”
“Uh-uh,” Draco murmured sleepily, all his defiance draining away in an instant.
Oh, that boy could act far too innocent for his own good, and Severus found himself utterly unable to resist those sad, big gray eyes staring up at him from under the green covers, as he busied himself around Draco’s room in his chambers.
Severus should probably tell the boy to fend for himself. If he were anyone else, he would have already blistered Draco’s backside, assigned him detention for the foreseeable future, and sent him back to the dormitories.
But he couldn’t. Because, at the end of the day, that was just an eleven-year-old boy who, despite his faults, only wanted to excel, to do the best he could.
“Sev, I can’t sleep without Kaa,” came a small, whiny voice from the bed, and Severus quickly found himself rethinking his stance.
Maybe he was going to bring the brat over his knee after all.
Kaa was Draco’s plush snake, the one Severus had infuriatingly gifted him when Draco first visited Hogwarts as a young boy. It was the one Draco had managed to keep hidden from Lucius all the way until now, at the grown age of eleven.
He adored the thing especially. As if he didn’t have a hundred other stuffed animals scattered around Severus’s quarters.
“Well, what do you want me to do about that?” Severus raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.
Draco huffed, pulling his arms from under the covers to rest them under his head. “I dunno, but he’s in my dorm…”
“Then you may go sleep with him, no problem.” Severus shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips as Draco’s eyes widened comically.
“N-no, I’m fine here! Uh…” Draco quickly assured him, sitting up in a hurry.
“I hope so,” Severus muttered, glancing around at the various stuffed animals surrounding Draco. “You’ve got enough of those creatures here.”
“Yeah, b-but… Kaa’s gonna be lonely there all on his own,” Draco huffed, shrinking away as Severus reached to brush his hair back soothingly.
“Well, aren’t there four other serpents there to keep him company?” Severus hummed, fluffing the covers around Draco with an almost absent-minded air.
“Well, no! They, uh…”
“You’ll have to believe he’ll be fine, silly boy,” Severus replied, his voice turning firm. “Because I do not plan on having five grumpy boys on my hands tomorrow if I go fetch him and happen to wake your roommates up.”
“I won’t be grumpy!” Draco whined, though he went willingly as Severus gently pushed him back onto his pillows.
“Well, I certainly hope not,” Severus muttered, leaning down as if about to impart a secret. “Because if you so much as peep about being tired, I’ll tan your hide and you won’t be able to sit comfortably for a long while. Are we clear?”
Draco gulped. “Yes, sir.”
Severus smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of Draco’s blonde hair. “Good boy. Sleep well.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
In the morning, Severus decided to give them a bit more time, walking into Draco’s room fifteen minutes earlier than usual. He had a feeling the boy would need it—either to pull himself out of bed or to nurse his sore bottom if he hadn’t managed to do it quickly enough.
As he opened the door to Draco’s room, he found the boy comfortably resting, his blonde hair a wild mess on his satin pillow, his body curled under the sheets in the most comfortable way possible. Some of his stuffed animals were scattered on the floor, probably tossed off during the boy’s restless sleep.
Taking a steady breath, Severus gently rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, his voice quiet yet firm. “Draco, child, it’s time to wake.” His tone was authoritative but not unkind, calm yet still commanding.
Yet, he received no answer.
Severus sighed and knocked again, this time more forcefully.
For a long moment, there was silence. Then the unmistakable sound of a muffled grunt drifted through the room.
Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a rare moment of restraint. He had learned early on that Draco’s inclination toward morning laziness couldn’t always be remedied with a sharp command. Instead, he had come to rely on calm persistence.
“Draco,” Severus repeated.
A slow, drawn-out groan came from inside the room, followed by the rustling of sheets. After a long pause, Draco’s voice, muffled and groggy, drifted out again. “Uh-uh…” It was a tired little sound, and Severus shook his head. At least the brat was awake, though still probably delirious.
Severus couldn’t help the small flicker of amusement that passed through him despite himself. The boy’s stubbornness was impressive, even if it was terribly inconvenient. He hadn’t spoiled the brat, or so he thought. He was just as firm with Draco as he was with the other students. Yet, Draco managed to defy him, time and again. “Draco,” he repeated, “You’re not going to get any more rest this morning. Come on, up with you.”
“Uh-uh…”
Severus sighed again and left, leaving the door slightly ajar. He knew that in five minutes, he’d be visiting the brat again. This would be a challenge, as always. He was fond of the boy, of course, but mornings had never been their strong suit. Not for Draco, anyway.
Severus was certain that, if left unchecked, Draco would happily lie in bed until noon, ignoring the obligations that came with being a student at Hogwarts, let alone the responsibilities he had as Severus' godson. But today was not one of those days. No, Draco had breakfast to attend, followed by a series of lessons that would drain the last remnants of his energy—but they were non-negotiable.
Seven minutes had passed—a respectable amount of time for the brat to think he’d won, Severus reasoned—and he was back, his footsteps soundless on the cold stone floor as he approached the bedroom once more.
He nudged the door open fully this time, the creak of the hinges cutting through the silence. The bed was still shrouded in shadow, and Draco lay there in deep slumber, his face relaxed and calm. Far too calm, Severus thought, barely suppressing an irritated sigh.
He approached the bed, glancing down at the boy. “Draco. I suggest you get up now, or you’ll miss breakfast. And your first lesson.” Exaggeration? Hardly. Getting the boy out of bed without a fight and at least an hour in advance was almost impossible.
A bleary, gray eye slowly opened to glance up at him with an unimpressed expression. Draco hummed softly as if acknowledging Severus' presence but still not fully understanding.
“Yeah…” he whispered, his eye closing again as he turned to ignore Severus and return to his peaceful slumber.
Severus’ eyebrows twitched. That brat.
Draco’s breathing remained slow and steady, his eyes still closed, his face completely unbothered. Severus stood still for a moment, then his expression darkened. He reached forward, yanked the covers off Draco’s body in one swift motion, and stepped back.
Draco’s eyes didn’t even open. He frowned, his eyes squinting as a faint whine escaped his lips.
“Seeev…”
“Rise and shine,” Severus said, his voice dry as dust.
Another long silence. Draco’s chest rose and fell with slow, deliberate breaths. It was clear he wasn’t ready to face the day, yet Severus could see the irritation beginning to twist his face like a storm cloud. A small, resigned groan escaped Draco as he rolled onto his side, rubbing his eyes.
“Draconis.”
Draco finally blinked his gray eyes open again, immediately shooting daggers at Severus, who in turn gave him the same look.
“Do you realize what time it is?” Severus snapped, though there was a flicker of exasperation more than anger in his voice. He knew all too well how reluctant Draco could be in the mornings, especially after a late-night study session. He was eleven years old, for Merlin’s sake. And despite Severus' best efforts, he’d been struggling with the curfew for some time now. It was a total nightmare—more for Severus than Draco. But of course, he wouldn’t let him get away with it. It was childish, maybe, but his godson was a terror—and this was just karma.
“…No?”
Severus exhaled. “It’s thirty past six. And we both know how long it takes you to get ready and eat a proper breakfast, so I suggest you get your bottom out of this bed.”
Draco’s hand, still cupping his eyes, paused mid-rub as if contemplating whether it was worth it to face the inevitable. He exhaled dramatically, sinking further into the mattress, his face twisting into a pout.
“Sev…” Draco slurred sleepily, as though still deciding on his words. “Do I have to? You know I don’t really… care for breakfast,” he muttered, half-hiding into his pillow, his voice muffled.
Severus felt his patience thinning. He stopped himself from taking the pillow from under the boy’s head the same way he had yanked the covers, cocking an eyebrow at the sentence.
“I don’t care whether you care. You’re a growing boy, and you will eat. You need nourishment from both proper food and proper sleep.” His words, though sharp, held a thread of resignation—one he refused to admit was growing thin the longer Draco delayed. “Hence, you’ve already neglected one, and you’re not going to be late for breakfast either. Now, up. I’m not in the mood for another argument.”
At that, Draco seemed to pause in his squirming on the mattress, frowning again. But this time, it seemed like he was actually considering things. Severus didn’t miss the sadness in his face; it wasn’t just attitude, but the real weariness of a boy who wasn’t used to these early mornings.
“…My head hurts,” Draco muttered.
With a long, exaggerated sigh, Severus paused and observed the stubborn creature before him.
“I’m aware. It’s no surprise, but you’ve brought it upon yourself, you stubborn child. That does not excuse you, however.”
The boy clearly wasn’t going to budge on his own. “Seeev…” Draco whined again, sounding like an injured animal, and Severus almost snapped.
He hovered over Draco’s prone form for a moment before leaning in. “Five more minutes, Draco. I dare you to sleep through it.”
The younger Malfoy gave another muffled groan, turning his face further into the pillow, as if pretending he hadn’t heard. His fingers twitched, but there was no movement beyond that. It was as if the bed itself had wrapped around him like an enchanted cocoon, determined to keep him imprisoned.
Severus could feel his jaw tighten. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes—barely.
When he returned, already prepared to leave the quarters at once, Severus wasn’t even remotely surprised by what he saw.
Draco seemed to be attempting to get out of bed, now lying horizontally rather than curled up, but sleep had once again claimed him. The covers Severus had confiscated lay forgotten on the other side of the bed.
All Severus needed to do was clear his throat, and Draco’s eyes immediately snapped open. He sat up abruptly, blinking the sleepy haze away and looking at Severus with wide eyes.
“I—Sev, I’m up, I was up!” Draco blurted urgently, rushing to get out of bed, but he froze as Severus approached.
“Oh, were you?” Severus asked coolly, taking a seat next to Draco and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yes, yes! I am!” Draco swayed, placing his bare feet on the cold stone floor, fixing the collar of his pajamas. He was just about to stand when Severus gripped his upper arm and firmly tugged him off the bed, positioning him upright between his legs.
A small whine escaped Draco’s throat. He knew what this position meant all too well. It meant a lecture, where Severus would keep him close, maintain his attention, and ground him so that he couldn't squirm away. And, inevitably, it made it far too easy for Severus to pull him over his knee in a swift motion.
Severus didn’t miss the sound that escaped Draco, nor the wince that followed. His godson wasn’t fully awake yet, still fighting the haze of sleep, but Severus was far from sympathetic to his excuses. With a swift motion, Severus tightened his grip on Draco’s arm, his fingers pressing into the soft skin of his forearm. The boy looked up at him, eyes still heavy with sleep, but he couldn’t look away; Severus wouldn’t let him.
“Draco,” Severus began, his voice smooth, yet with a clear edge of disapproval. “I believe I told you to get up. You did hear me, didn’t you?” His tone made it clear this wasn’t a question that could be evaded, and he fixed his gaze directly on Draco’s face.
Draco blinked rapidly, his lips pouting out in that all-too-familiar way. He hated being scolded, especially when he was tired. “Uh-uh…” he muttered, his voice soft and almost pleading as he tried to avoid Severus’ eyes by looking down at the floor.
Severus’ grip tightened, just enough to catch the boy’s attention back. “A verbal answer, if you please, Draco.”
The boy sighed, an exaggerated puff of air, and muttered reluctantly, “Yes, sir.”
“Indeed,” Severus responded, unmoved. His eyes never left Draco’s face. “I called for you a good few times, didn’t I?”
Draco’s lip quivered slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing his expression. “Yes, sir…”
Severus wasn’t finished. His tone grew more pointed, and the sharpness in his voice brooked no argument. “Don’t turn away, child. Look at me.”
Draco, caught in the command, slowly raised his eyes to meet Severus’s gaze. His pout remained, though now it was edged with frustration. He didn’t want to comply, but it was impossible to argue when Severus was so unyielding. All the defiance of the previous night seemed to evaporate in an instant, leaving him acutely aware of the consequences of his behavior. Severus’s gaze was like a weight, heavy and relentless, and Draco knew better than to try to escape it.
“And you promised me,” Severus continued, his voice dropping, “that you wouldn’t be grumpy today, didn’t you?”
The words hung in the air, a reminder of their conversation before bed. Draco’s brows furrowed slightly, frustration leaking through. “I’m not grumpy—!” he blurted out, the protest slipping from his mouth before he could stop it.
Severus raised an eyebrow. “Draconis.”
Draco froze at the use of his full name, immediately recognizing it wasn’t a request for an explanation—it was an order. He bit his lip and looked away, trying to avoid the inevitable, but Severus’s grip on his arm kept him rooted in place.
“I wasn’t—” Draco began again, though his words faltered. He was too tired, too embarrassed, and the realization that Severus wasn’t about to let him off the hook made him feel small.
“If you weren’t grumpy, Draco, you’d be listening to me. You wouldn’t be fidgeting, pulling away, or whining about being tired. You promised me rest last night, but that didn’t change the fact that you did stay up. Now you’ve brought it upon yourself.”
Draco’s eyes welled up slightly, the tears of frustration threatening to spill. He hated when Severus was right, hated being forced to admit it. “I didn’t mean to… I just… I just wanted to be better, Sev.”
Severus’s expression softened, just for a moment, but only enough to show he understood the root of Draco’s actions. However, his tone remained firm. “You’ll be better by listening to me and respecting the rules. A child your age needs sleep. You know that. And now I’m here, reminding you of the consequences.” He sighed, but the frustration lingered in his voice. “Not everything can be done on a whim, Draco.”
Draco sniffled and tried to straighten up, though he still felt fragile under Severus’s intense gaze. His godfather’s words stung, but they also made him feel small. Severus knew what was best for him, and that knowledge only made the scolding feel heavier.
Severus studied Draco for a moment, his gaze dark with quiet disapproval. He could see the struggle on Draco’s face—the desperate attempt to retain some semblance of defiance, but the exhaustion and vulnerability were unmistakable. The last remnants of Draco’s defiance seemed to crumble with every passing second, leaving behind the guilt and confusion that Severus knew all too well.
The boy’s eyes flickered to the side, avoiding Severus’s gaze, but Severus wasn’t having it. With a swift movement, he gently—but firmly—pressed under Draco’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes again.
“I will not ask again, Draco. Look at me.”
Draco’s breath hitched, and he tried to pull away, but the pressure of Severus’s fingers kept him in place. His throat tightened, and despite the warmth of the room, he felt a cold shiver of anxiety run through him. He felt… embarrassed, humiliated almost. He was eleven, why was his godfather still treating him like a little kid?
Severus could practically hear the thoughts swirling in Draco’s mind—I didn’t do anything that bad. It’s not like I actually did something to deserve this...—His chest tightened at the thought of Draco’s emotional state, but he was careful not to let his growing empathy affect the scolding.
“You know better, Draco,” Severus’s voice was like a quiet warning, his words cutting through the tension. “You stay up late, you don’t get enough rest, and then you have trouble waking up. You’re not the only one with responsibilities, boy. I won’t have you making me late. You need to take care of yourself, or you will make things worse—for you, for me, for your studies, and your grades. And you know I don’t take lightly to tardiness.”
Draco sniffled, feeling his cheeks burn with shame at Severus’s directness. The words were harsh, but there was care beneath them. It made him feel even worse, more aware of the frustration that was clearly building in Severus.
"I was just—" Draco started, trying to defend himself, though his voice quivered. "I didn’t—"
Severus raised a hand, silencing him with a single gesture. "Spare me the excuses."
Draco opened his mouth to protest again, but his godfather’s stare cut him off before the words could form. He was so tired, yet all he wanted now was to escape—to run. His skin tingled with a mixture of dread and irritation. If he didn’t start defending himself soon, he was going to explode. Or worse… cry. Gods, not crying…
"How do you expect to accomplish anything if you can’t even manage your own sleep?" Severus continued, his tone tight with frustration. “Tell me, Draco, do you want me to let you get away with this? Is that what you’ve come to expect from me?”
Draco felt the lump in his throat swell, his face reddening further. He wasn’t about to break down in front of Severus, not yet. He could almost feel the panic building in his chest—the same panic he used to feel when his father had been disappointed in him. It felt like being back in the same cycle, and he hated it.
“I wasn’t trying to—make you late or anything,” Draco muttered, his voice shaky. “I just got distracted, and I fell asleep again. I was tired…”
Severus raised an eyebrow, the slightest flicker of sarcasm evident. “Distracted? That’s rich. I’m not surprised you were sleepy, child. But that doesn’t mean you get to defy me, does it?”
Draco flinched, as though Severus had physically struck him. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words faltered in his throat. Severus was getting dangerously close to the point of no return, and Draco knew it.
“I guess…” Draco tried to take a step back, but Severus’ knees dug firmly into his thighs, keeping him grounded.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Severus’ voice was steady, his hands moving to the small of Draco’s back. Before the boy could react, he was tipped over his godfather’s knee.
“Sev!” Draco whined, feeling himself being positioned so that his torso rested on the bed, his bum propped up by Severus' thigh, and his legs locked in place by the man’s other leg. Draco could already anticipate a longer punishment—Severus was clearly expecting him to squirm and resist (though Draco was already doing so after only a few mild swats).
Draco sniffled, more tears springing to his eyes as he tried in vain to push himself up. All he managed was to straighten his arms, pressing his palms into the bed, but Severus still had full access to his exposed backside.
“Settle down,” Severus commanded, resting his left hand on Draco’s back and pushing him back down. Draco went willingly, crossing his arms and resting them under his chin with a pout. “It was long overdue, don’t you think? I’m not going to mention your staying up again, but the attitude you showed yesterday was absolutely foolish, and the irresponsibility you’ve shown me today is unacceptable. I asked you to get up.”
“I was up—Awh! Sev!” Draco yelped as a loud SMACK! echoed through the room.
“You weren’t. And you know I’ve been lenient with you. I haven’t got time for your theatrics now.”
“We—we don’t have time for this either, then! I—”
The cheek simply wouldn’t do.
With a swift motion, Severus swatted Draco's bottom twice—firm but not excessive—just a warning.
“I suggest you drop that attitude.”
Draco’s face flushed a deep shade of red, his mouth snapping shut immediately, though not without a muffled whine. The sting from the swats sent an uncomfortable but familiar jolt through him, silencing the rebellious thoughts in his mind. He shifted his posture, testing how much more of this he could endure.
“It is in my interest to make sure you get to breakfast and your lessons on time,” Severus continued, his voice stern. “And, I assure you, that will happen. We don’t have time? Alright, I’ll make this quick but firm, yes?” With that, Severus slid Draco’s pajama bottoms down to his knees, much to Draco’s dismay. The boy struggled again, his legs kicking in vain against Severus’ hold.
“S-SEVERUS, no, no, no—” Draco squealed, his voice panicked. He hated getting his bare backside smacked. Why was Severus so cruel to him? He hadn’t done anything that bad!
Severus merely patted Draco’s bottom once, before raising his hand again. “In contrast to a certain little boy who’s now over my knee because of his irresponsibility, I care about your health, Draconis. And I plan to make this lesson stick.” SMACK!
Draco squeaked in response.
“I cannot allow you to neglect your health like that.” SMACK! SMACK!
“Uh-uhh…” Draco whined, though the sound was more out of fear than pain. He was hoping to pull on Severus' emotions, but the older man was not moved.
Severus may have felt for him a bit—after all, Draco was just eleven, and it was clear that except of what Sev was trying to accomplish, no one had shown him how to properly take care of himself. When to rest. When to stop. But, at the same time, eleven was old enough to know that bedtime wasn’t negotiable. All the detentions, the lines, the cauldrons Draco had to wash should have been enough for him to learn that. Yet, maybe it wasn’t.
The bare-bottomed spanking was the absolute last resort. In that moment, Severus was certain nothing else would work. Curse him, if he had to tan the brat’s hide every night for him to get to bed on time now, then so be it.
Severus raised his hand and brought it down firmly across Draco’s now bare backside. The soft skin yielded instantly to his palm, leaving bright handprints behind. He alternated the swats between the left and right cheeks, then to the center, making sure each one landed with precision. Draco’s bottom quickly turned a bright pink as the spanking continued.
Draco kept struggling against Severus’ leg lock, but his efforts were in vain. His face was buried in his arms, and his bottom squirmed involuntarily, trying to avoid the swats.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Ow! Ow! Oww!” Draco cried, though it seemed to fall on deaf ears. But now, it really hurt. He wasn’t exaggerating anymore. Sev’s hand must have been made of wood!
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Uh—agh!”
“Why would you choose to stay up late and then complain about being tired, hm? I warned you,” Severus said, his tone stern but tinged with frustration.
“Mmh, I just—!” SMACK! “Ow!”
Severus sighed. “I care about you, you foolish child. Do you need me to come and personally tuck you in each night?”
“N-no, Sev, no!”
Severus was certainly one for verbal scolding while spanking, to make sure the lesson was clear. But, in this moment, he knew Draco wouldn’t be able to focus on it. So, instead, he focused on making each swat count.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
The punishment continued, the swats landing steadily for a minute or more. Severus’ hand never wavered, while Draco’s squirming and little sobs escaped him. The boy was clearly overwhelmed now.
Severus didn’t want to be excessive. Merlin knew he didn’t. But neglecting his health—both his sleep habits and his tendency to skip meals—along with putting so much pressure on himself to be perfect, to be the best, was one of the worst things a young child could do. And Severus wouldn’t allow Draco to go down that path.
“Sev, Sev’rus—please. I’m sorryyyy.” Draco’s voice was strained, breathless, as the sobs began to mix with his words.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Severus replied coolly. “But do you honestly think this can make up for your lost sleep, young man?”
SMACK! SMACK!
“Yow! Ah! N-nooo!”
“Exactly.”
Although with that, Severus decided to bring the spanking to an end. Draco was becoming a blubbering mess. So, Severus tipped him up slightly to gain better access to his sit spots and the top of his thighs, bringing his hand back down.
Of course, it was met with a very loud reaction.
“Uh! Sevv, please no more! Ah, ouch! I'll be goooood!”
Another half-minute passed, and Severus finally stopped. As quickly as it had started, he hoisted Draco back up, adjusting his soft pajamas, and drew him close to his chest.
Draco, barely on his feet, trembling and loudly weeping as if the worst thing in the world had just happened to him, instantly latched onto his godfather, desperate for the embrace—even if he was sure Severus had just blistered his poor bum. He may have deserved it, just a little, didn’t he?
He buried himself in Severus's robes, sobbing his little heart out into his shoulder for a minute or so. A stream of “I’m sorry’s” and “I didn’t mean to’s” left his mouth, alongside the tears streaming down his cheeks. His hands curled into fistfuls of the black robe, knowing well he wasn’t allowed to rub the soreness, but he doubted he could stop himself from doing so. It hurt a lot.
Severus sighed, his voice soft yet firm. “I know, I know. Hush now, Draco. It’s alright.”
“I—I won’t stay up late ever again! I swear!”
“I hope you don’t. We’ll have to find you more suitable hours to study, huh?”
“Mm-hm… It hurts, Sev, you—*sniff*…”
And hurt it did.
“That’s exactly what I thought a punishment should feel like,” Severus mused in mild amusement. “I simply did what was necessary, ridiculous boy. You knew the consequences, yes?”
“U-uh…”
“Right, you did. But it’s over now. I surely hope we won’t have to repeat this lesson”
Draco nodded his head firmly.
Severus patted his back, rocking him slightly, wiping away his tears, holding him, as he always did and always will. As always, when it seemed Draco was falling apart in his arms.
But after a few minutes, the boy had calmed down a bit, his sore bottom resting between Severus's legs as he perched on his godfather’s lap, careful not to agitate the tender skin. He rested against Severus’s chest, his hands still softly gripping the robes as his own, sniffling from time to time. The man’s hand on his back seemed to calm him enough though.
“I think we’re late for breakfast in the end,” Severus said finally, at which Draco tensed.
“...Do I—”
“Yes, like I said, I’m not going to let you skip meals on top of everything you’ve already done,” Severus sighed, gently patting Draco’s thigh. “Up you go, now.”
Draco groaned quietly, but with a raised eyebrow from Severus, he complied. With five more minutes to spare, courtesy of a tempus charm cast by his godfather to ensure he wouldn’t have to repeat his lesson about tardiness, Draco rushed to the bathroom to wash his face and change into his school uniform—maybe rubbing his sore bum just a bit in the process.
In the great hall, no one batted an eye when the stern potions professor entered late, accompanied by one of the most clever yet troublesome first years. He ensured the boy made it to his seat at the Slytherin table, nestled between his fellow snakes.
Though the other students quickly deduced the reason for their tardiness, especially when one Draco Malfoy had trouble sitting properly — though he did his best to hide it.