ON THE SET

The light rain fell on and on in the misty early afternoon, and as Mr. Alan Rickman walked out of the diner the cast and crew had lunch at, he again wondered, for the Nth time that day, where in the world ms. Emma Watson was. There had been no sign of the kid for the whole morning, which had forced the crew to re-schedule most of the shooting script for the day, and every call to her cell phone had proved useless -- which was weird in itself, since she never seemed to turn it off, with all those SMS messages she sent and received daily.

Earlier that morning, before shooting began, Emma’s parents had left the set quite angry indeed, not with her, but rather at each other, putting up a loud show of reciprocate insults that the whole crew could hear. Emma had appeared unaffected at first, but now he was starting to fear that seeing her own parents fight like that might have upset her, but he had no idea where she might be, and his colleagues shared his worries.

The last time she had been seen was a little over six hours ago, when she threw her parents out of her trailer and told them to shut up and go to hell and leave her the hell alone. No one had a clue where she was, why her cell phone wasn’t on, or if she was injured or anything. Shooting had been eventually cancelled for the day as the anxiety of her whereabouts continued to grow, and mass searches were performed. Finally, just when Alfonso Cuàron was about ready to call Scotland Yard, a cab pulled up and the door opened. Out came a rather sour looking Emma, carrying six bags from Harrods’ the most exclusive mall in London, which was only a few miles away.

Cuàron and producer David Heyman literally stormed over to the cab, and ‘welcomed’ the young actress with furious and worried looks on their faces.

"Where the *hell* have you been all morning?? We were about to call the Police, you know?!" exclaimed Heyman, while Cuàron pronounced some unmistakable curses in Spanish and ran his fingers through his hair, wondering once again why on earth he had accepted such a frustrating assignment in the first place! It hadn’t been hard at all working with kids in his previous movies, why was it so terribly complicated with this little girl?

Seeing something happen in the distance, Mr. Rickman walked closer to see what all the commotion was about... and it was there that he spotted Emma’s bushy brown hair as she stood in front of Heyman and Cuàron, while the taxi cab drove its way off the set.

"I needed a break, I had a bad morning! Just back off, got it?" Emma snapped. Then she threw them nasty looks and headed off for her trailer, not in the mood to be pissed at. She was thirteen, she could take care of herself, they were just being ridiculous! Her new dress of a long flowered blue material swished around her as she walked.

Alan ran to the cab just in time to see Cuàron’s frantic face and Heyman shaking his head and starting to make some phone calls -- probably to reassure his production partners that they needn’t find another Hermione Granger, not yet at least. And then he saw Emma walking away, and followed in her footsteps.

"Hey!" he called after her. "Where in the world have YOU been??" he said with a firm, but worried, tone.

She turned around to face him. Though she tried to hide it, Emma’s eyes were filled with hurt. "None of your business, just leave me alone! I just want to be left alone right now, it’s not that much to ask!" She added to her point by making a rather childish stomp.

Alan shook his head and grabbed her forearm and pulled her to him, trying to be firm but without hurting her. "I am *not* leaving you alone, though you claim it’s all you want from me right now. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you? There were three hundred people scared to death right here, do you even realise that??"

"I don’t care!" Emma announced, her eyes filling with tears. "Please, let go of me? I need to return the set costume to wardrobe, it’s in my bag, ‘cuz I was wearing it earlier. Please Alan, please, just let me be." She gave him a rather half-hearted push and attempted to walk towards wardrobe.

He sighed at her reaction, seeing just how much the kid was hurting over something, probably her parents fighting, or God knows what else. A bit taken aback by the events, and with shooting to resume soon anyway, he nodded and released her, but still followed her to the huge red-and-white wardrobe tent where all costumes were kept, under the attentive supervision of Mrs. Jany Temime.

"Alright but I want an explanation as to why you ran away like that."

"Alan if you want to help, tell them I’m not up to shooting today. I just want to be in my trailer, pig-out on food, and hug my freaking teddy bear!" she announced, stalking rather quickly towards wardrobe. "And I don’t want to give you an explanation, it’s private, personal, which makes it SO none of your business."

A pang of guilt hurt him as he heard such words: thirteen years old and already acting like the sassiest of prom queens, buying expensive stuff at Harrods’ but still talking of teddy bears. She was unbearable. And sweet, too. But there was no logic in what she had said:

"None of my business? None of my business?? Was it none of my business that I was worried about you all day, and I couldn’t call you or anything?" He stopped her as they were entering the tent, and looked in her eyes and said seriously: "Did anyone hurt you while you were in London?"

"Ew, don’t be sick!" Emma growled. "Nobody even recognized me, I can be rather good at blending and disappearing when I want. I’ve had a LOT of practice!" At that statement, her fists balled up for just a moment, then released.

Alan sighed. "I guess you’re right... but that is no excuse whatsoever to do what you did. You wanted a day off? Fine! You might’ve just said."

He pushed her inside the tent and saw Mrs. Temime approaching. He quickly explained that her set costume was in one of Emma’s bags.

"Don’t push me!" the girl whined, handing her clothes to the costume designer. "Can you just leave me alone now? I’m getting really sick of this ‘oh let’s all worry about Emma’ crap! It’s not like I can’t take care of myself! Hell, I can hitch-hike for god’s sake and be just fine! I don’t need everyone hounding me!"

As Mrs. Temime shook her head and took the wet, messy Hermione robes from Emma’s hands, Alan shook his head too and ran fingers through his hair:

"Hitch-hike? You’ve been hitch-hiking? Holy sh... you’re thirteen and you think you know everything, don’t you?" he said as Mrs. Temime handed her a new set of scene clothes, the black Hogwarts robes with the Gryffindor insignia sewed in on the front, but Alan grabbed them and pushed her towards the changing rooms, ignoring her previous warning not to do so. "Oh how *stupid* we all are to worry about you, right? I thought you might like the idea, for a change".

"Well you’re the only one! And you can just save it!" Emma said, looking close to tears

"Oh I will save it next time, do not worry! But as of now, you’d better go into that changing room, ‘cos I’ve just started dealing with you: since you don’t seem to appreciate my concern, let’s see how you deal with my frustration".

Emma looked confused, then whimpered. "Please, can’t you just leave me alone?" her voice was laced with tears. "I just... can’t... deal with this stuff right now."

Alan walked into the nearest changing room -- which was actually a fully-furnished, quite large room with benches and chairs and a vanity -- and closed the door behind him, then he sat on a chair and looked at Emma straight in the eye again.

"You want to talk to me about what’s going on with you?" he said, half sternly, half friendly.

"You’re just gonna spank me!" she burst into tears.

"Oh you can be sure of that, I’m going to spank you because I want you to know you can *not* do what you just did this morning," Alan said, quite sternly, then softened his voice: "but I also want to know why you did it! Emma, in case you didn’t notice, I care for you", he said, putting a big stress on those last words.

With tears flowing down her face, she looked.... half pleased, half shocked. "I don’t want a spanking! I just had to get away, they are so stupid, they always do this!" she tossed a Kleenex box across the room.

"Who is? Your parents?", he said, casting a side look at the Kleenex box which destroyed half a dozen of make-up bottles, like a bowling ball strikes the skittles.

She nodded, curling up into a chair a little ways away from him, hugging a pillow. "They always fight and then I tell them to stop and they yell at ME as if it’s MY fault! Then they completely ignore me, just to punish me, just because I didn’t want to hear their stupid bitching around. Just once I’d like to sit with them and talk with them, and not get into a fight but never, never can they do that, not even for me!"

Alan felt his heart break a little at such a sad recount, and he could relate to what the girl said; he had lived through a difficult childhood, himself, and knew exactly how she must have been feeling in that situation. He looked at her, looking frail and, for once, small, in that chair, curled up like a little girl. Then he outstretched a hand and took hers: "I’m sorry about that, Emma. You wanted to run away because you couldn’t stand it anymore, right?"

"I didn’t think everyone would worry, I just wanted to get away until they left, and I was having a good time, just trying to forget about them!" She squeezed his hand gently. "But I can never do anything right!"

He shook his head and squeezed her hand back. "No, that’s not true. I understand you needed some time off... and..." he hesitated, and took a deep breath, "... and when you want to do so, just tell me, and I’ll take you for a ride. But not alone, not like that, and most of all *not* hitch-hiking, darn it! Any pervert might’ve picked you up, you’re on all newspapers, you know?"

She shrugged. "I didn’t want to bother you. I always seem to be a bother and I hate that! I just wish they’d go away forever or get along for god’s sake." Her slight frame started shaking as she began to sob

Seeing Emma cry and shake like that broke Alan’s heart more than he thought possible... why was he getting so close to this girl? He had always hated her stubborn ways and know-it-all manners, but he had also never really cared. But he was, now, and he couldn’t afford himself to ignore it any longer; and this little girl needed some comforting at the moment, so he stood and knelt by her chair, and hugged her, letting her cry on his shoulder.

"I understand. You are not a bother, and we... *I*... only worry for your safety."

"I... I’m a big girl," she croaked out through her tears. "I’m sorry, don’t hate me too, please?" her voice was begging.

"You’re a big girl when you behave like one... and of course I don’t hate you!" he said, sounding a bit like Snape. "Quite the contrary, girl, if you wanna know," he spat.

She looked up, her tears easing down but leaving little red streaks on her face. "You... you do?"

He gulped, unsure of what to say: this was a first time, after all, and he didn’t quite know how to cope with it. "Yeah... I do love you, and care for you."

Emma seemed to freeze at his statement, the wheels in her mind working it over and analyzing it in every which way possible. "Not... not many people say that..." she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shirt.

"Well, I..." he hugged her back, not very convincingly, but he did, "I don’t have an answer to that. But I know I do. Can you take that and what comes with it, Emma?"

She pulled back a little and looked into his eyes. "What... what comes with it?" she asked thoughtfully.

Alan sighed. "I care for you enough to help you through some of the mistakes you do. Yeah yeah you’re a big girl and can look after yourself and everything, but sometimes, and I mean sometimes, well, you just seem not to be able to do that, and act like a child, and I want to help you with that. If you can’t mind about certain things, like putting yourself in danger so foolishly, perhaps I can make you mind, in the old-fashioned way."

Instinctively, her hands went back to cover her bottom. "But... but... that hurts!"

He just couldn’t help but rolling his eyes: "Of course it does, that’s the point, isn’t it? Have your parents never spanked you? Don’t see it like ‘he’s hurting me’, try and see it for what it really is, and that is that I care enough for you to give you a reason not to repeat some mistakes."

She shook her head no. "Nope, never. No TV, locked in room, then the absolute silence crap."

"Well that doesn’t mean they don’t love you, I’m sure they do love you a lot, but still... well, that you want to hear it or not, I’m going to say it: you are still young, and you do still need some guidance, sometimes a strong one. Can you agree to that?"

For a moment, Emma didn’t move, then slowly nodded. "O... okay," she whispered softly. "You won’t be all evil like Snape though right?" she gave a small wink, trying to lighten things up a little.

"Pfft... Snape’s just a character, and not too well written, either. I know I may sound cold and detached, but you also know I’m different than that". He forced himself to smile back, finding it less unpleasant than he would have thought.

Emma smiled, a pretty smile, her face lighting up and she hugged him again, then sneezed.

"Bless you", he said, smiling again. "You could’ve chosen a warmer day to escape, huh".

"Probably," she admitted.

Alan ceased smiling, and gave her a minute to settle down, then he went back to his chair and sat again, looking at her and not saying a word.

"What?" she asked as he looked at her. "What did I do now?" Her face clouded over.

"Nothing... but I think you know what comes next." He inhaled. "Take off your dress and come here, Emma, please".

Her jaw dropped. "Dress off? I... oooh, I don’t think so! Can’t you just, like, lift it or something?" her face was flushing and felt uncomfortably warm. "And... and... here? People might hear!"

"No, you’d have to take it off soon anyway and replace it with those," he pointed at the Hogwarts black robes laying on the couch lined up against the room wall, "so why not now. And this tent is always empty, I wouldn’t worry about noise. Hey, I’m sure no-one heard the first time either."

None of them realised the supreme irony of that statement, of course.

"That’s not faaaaaaaaair!" Emma whined.

"Emma!" Alan snapped, his voice like a thunder when he pronounced her name. "Do you want me to do that for you?, or are you going to co-operate like a good girl?"

Emma jumped and nearly fell out of the chair. "You... you don’t understand!"

Alan sighed, nearly exasperated now, and said: "Just what is it that I don’t understand??"

"My bra... is... well... it’s see-through," she muttered.

Alan understood her embarrassment, but again rolled his eyes and said: "It is see-through if someone looks at that at all, which I won’t... are you going to comply now? Last chance."

"Promise you won’t look?" she said, looking very wary.

"Yes, yes, I promise I won’t look, I’ll have other matters to attend to, I tell you", he said, very matter-of-factly.

Taking a deep breath, Emma understood there was no other way out than with a red bottom, so she closed her eyes and hurriedly took off her dress, then practically jumped across Alan’s lap, before he could even *think* about looking!

Alan was surprised: so, that was a fast way to have a kid lay across his lap, have her dress in a way she hates so she’ll be quick. He was pleased to finally have her where he wanted to, but he had to admit to himself that that quick glimpse he had had of her, well, it hadn’t been unpleasant, so to speak. Emma was young and pretty, after all, there was no denying that... but now all he had to care about were her panty-clad bottom cheeks, upturned and lined up for a proper spanking.

Emma whimpered over Alan’s knees, squirming a bit in anxiety. She had heard of kids getting spanked several times in the past, of course, but never before last week had she found herself staring at the carpet, and now, there she was again.

As soon as Emma was turned over his knee, Alan lost no time and proceeded to lower her underwear: he planned to start on her bare bottom this time; but, once again, he wasn’t quite prepared for what he saw. Must’ve been the weather, or the commotion of her crying, or the very warm atmosphere the air conditioners in the tent were creating, or... something, but this time he found the sight of Emma’s round cheeks to be, well, he was rather fond of it, and that was an understatement.

"Do you have to do that?" she squeaked.

"Yes I have to do that... already forgot the last time?"

Not letting the sight of Emma’s bare rump distract him from his ‘job’, he quickly raised a hand and SMACK!ed it down on her bottom!

"Owwww!"

WHACK SPANK, he delivered two more quick smacks, one to each cheek.

"Eee! Oooh! No I didn’t forget, I just wish you wouldn’t!" She squirmed harder, her cheeks bouncing with each spank, as light pink handprints appeared on her previously pure-white bottom.

"Well, a good spanking... WHACK ...is always on the bare... WHACK ...bottom." spank spank spank "...at least with me, little miss." He continued to smack her bum and upper thighs with hearty whacks, not overly hard, but definitely not love pats either

"Ouch! Yikes! Owww shit!!" she squealed. "Please, I’ll be good Alan, please pretty please?"

Alan kept spanking, and delivered two harder smacks (SPANK!! SPANK!!) when he heard her cussing. "Language, Emma!" spank spank spank spank spank spank "Don’t make your situation worse than it already is" spank spank spank spank spank spank

"Aaaaaaaah!" she wailed, throwing her hands back to block. "I’m sorry I’m sorry, stop!" she begged, starting to cry.

He was prepared for such a thing, and when she brought her hands back to cover her backside, he took hold of both wrists with his left hand and pinned them very firmly in the small of her back, then resumed the whacking.

spank spank spank spank spank Alan spread the smacks all over her now-reddening behind.

She cried and kicked loudly. "Pleeeeeease! God, Alan, please I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I swear!!"

As the spanking continued, he wondered whether he should restrain her legs from kicking, but saw her panties were already doing a good job at that, so he let go and kept spanking her: whack whack whack whack whack whack whack

"Yes you will be good... whack whack... I am sure of that, Emma... whack whack..."

Emma just went limp and sobbed, feeling like it would never ever end, her bottom just blazing like fire. She bawled and howled, no longer begging, as she was crying to hard, and still kicking and squirming, desperate to relieve the pain

"Good to know that you are sorry, at least." whack whack whack... and then he suddenly stopped, and glanced at her nicely shaped, round, and definitely quite pink derriere. But Emma needed an additional lesson, not a longer spanking, but something to warn her of what would happen if she got out of line again. "Only one more smack, Emma," he said, as he reached for a large, flat-backed hairbrush on the vanity he had eyed upon entering the tent. "But you are so going to feel this one".

Alan realised it was time to end that punishment, so he gathered his strength, raised the large brown-wooded maple hairbrush and smacked it down forcefully on her bare fanny: SMACK!!!

Emma screamed at the top of her lungs, nearly bucking off his lap, then her breathing became hitched as she sobbed hysterically, having never felt such pain and burn in her whole young life! She gasped and sobbed, her whole body shuddering.

Wow, this did have some effect!, Alan thought to himself. He put the brush back on the vanity and rubbed Emma’s bottom, where a large oval-shaped dark red blotch had now appeared. "I’m sorry I did that, but it was to show you what will happen if I have to spank you again, my girl."

He kept rubbing her aching backside in circles as he spoke, waiting for her bawling to subside

Every time his hand brushed that oval mark from the brush, Emma screamed and began crying all over again, seeming that she would never stop, nor run out of tears. "No... no... no..." she gasped.

Trying to ignore her crying and gasps, Alan kept rubbing, knowing it hurt now but also knowing it was best after a bit; he started using the tips of his fingers rather than his full hand, almost pinching her red flesh softly. He felt sorry for the little girl, but knew he had acted for the best.

"Cry it all out, don’t hold back, and you may stand when you feel like," he said, trying to sound reassuring, though his Shakespearean-actor low, deep voice still made that sound like an order.

"Not... that... again... never....god.... burns.... horrible.... make it better!" she hiccuped now, and sniffled as she finally started to calm down, though her body still shuddered.

"If you behave like the good girl you are, it will not happen again," Alan said, silently implying that it indeed would if she did not behave like a good girl. Then he reached for a bottle of baby oil on the vanity and poured some on the poor girl’s bottom.

"Better...?" he asked as he rubbed (and quite liking the close contact, too).

She nodded, then hiccuped. "Please, that was horrible, don’t spank me with that, please, I’ll never be a bad girl again!" she sounded almost terrified.

"Now, now... that was a super-hard smack, I’d never spank that hard again. It was meant to set an example. But I will give you the hairbrush if needed, do you understand me?" He stopped rubbing for a second and waited for an answer.

Emma whimpered. "Why would you do that? It’s so horrible and it burns, Alan! That’s mean!"

Alan did not resume rubbing the lotion, but instead stood her up so she would face him. "Emma. It is supposed to burn. And if my hand is not enough, perhaps you need an incentive. See? It’s working already, since you’re so scared of it. Be good, and you’ll never feel the hairbrush again."

"But your hand was enough! It was, it was!" she wailed. "And I can’t always be good, I screw up all the time, I’ll never ever get to sit again!"

"If it was enough, you wouldn’t’ve done what you did today, would you?" he replied calmly. "And if you take for granted that you’ll screw up, you most certainly will. You’ve got to believe in yourself, kiddo, where’s your self-esteem?"

Several emotions crossed Emma’s face in the next moment: fear, betrayal, anger, a deep settled hurt, loneliness, and finally fear again. "I’ll just disappoint you, like I do everyone else. If all you’re going to do is hurt me, then.... then...." She hung her head, wanting to be hugged and rocked and told she was loved--- only she didn’t know how to ask for it.

Alan was running out of arguments at that point, and the poor kid obviously felt she wasn’t worth a pence to anyone surrounding her, and he silently cursed at her parents for allowing her to grow with such a low opinion of herself -- spanking or not spanking, that made very little difference at that point. Then, in one quick motion and before he even himself realised it, he flung his arms around Emma and pulled her to him, kissed her tear-streaked cheek and hugging her tight to him.

"You never disappoint me... yeah you may be annoying at times... but I care for you."

Emma curled up tight in his arms, as emotions raged inside her. She was all confused, but maybe it was starting to make sense... maybe she wasn’t such a disappointment after all, at least not to him.

"Want my bear" she whimpered, sounding very young and frightened.

He sighed as he sat her on her lap and gathered her practically naked body against him. He rocked her back and forth, wanting her to feel loved, at least a little bit. "Sure, we’ll go get it... he’s in your trailer, isn’t he?"

Emma nodded. "Love you" she whispered, so quiet that she was barely even able to hear it herself. "Feels good," she said a little more loudly. "Don’t let go," she ordered, not sounding the least bit stern.

Alan nodded and kept rocking her, and though he was surprised to hear the words ‘love you’ out of her mouth, it was even more amazing to hear himself answer: "I love you too, Emma, and I’m not letting you down. This is a promise, and I keep all of my promises."

She nestled even tighter in his arms, feeling secure and cared for-- then she shivered and gave a tiny giggle. "I’m cold" she whispered. "Can I have my clothes back?"

He smiles back: "Ah right... it’s getting cold in here, I didn’t notice. Of course," and with that he stood up and dropped her to the ground -- she was tall for her age, but still looked lean and fragile before him. Alan took the heavy wool Hogwarts robes and passed them to her. "I gather you want to put your underwear back on, before, though..." he suggested, not without a smirk.

She playfully stuck out her tongue and put her panties back on, biting her lip very hard when the morbid cotton made contact with her totally sore backside, then she dressed in the Hogwarts robes. "Are we still filming today?" she asked. Right now all she wanted was to go to her trailer and fall asleep with her bear, and imagine that Alan was her dad.... not that she’d tell anyone that!!!

Alan smiled and circled her shoulders with an arm, while he gathered her shopping bags with the free hand and motioned her towards the door. "I believe we’re still filming... but, well, I can always convince Alfonso to shoot a Quidditch scene first, so you won’t have to be there and can have a couple hours’ sleep, how’s that look?"

"Nah, it’s ok, my bed will always be there." She squeezed the hand on her shoulder for a moment before they exited the large dressing room. "Maybe-- we can talk again soon? And, I mean, you know, like *real* talk."

"Oh of course we can. You can always talk to me when you feel like... well, not just always," he winked, "but most of the times, yes."

Emma smiled, and felt a new-found peace settle inside her, and let out a rather contented sigh as they headed to where the rest of the cast and crew were waiting, wondering if she was alright and where she had been. With a quick smile of thanks to Alan, she began to explain -- carefully leaving the part about her spanking out, though she had a horrible feeling that most of the people had heard it anyway.

And throughout her explanation, and saddened apologies, Alan stood behind her, a hand constantly on her shoulder. He had told her he would not let her down... well, he meant it.

click here for pictures of Emma and Alan