A/N: In talking with a friend, the fact that CP has been rather light on the ground in the main story was mentioned. Specificially, I believe the remark was something along the lines of 'Not enough ass-beatings lately.'

In order to assuage this person, I have undertaken to correct that by writing a number of one-shots that deal with alternate universe CP. This is meant to be a series of 'What if?' questions, so I'll explain any variances on SIH-verse canon in the A/N. Everything will flow in roughly chronological order.

As always, requests are welcomed.

Scenerio One: What if Alecto was (much, much) nicer person? [Chapter one of SIH-assume Alecto doesn't know which girls are Purebloods and which aren't.)

Alecto knew the curly-haired little Firstie would be a problem. The girl had stood up to Lucius directly in the Hall, and now was packing as directed with an air of lion-ish assurance, unflinching in the presence of any number of strange adults and the abrupt disappearance of every familiar person except Snape.

Beside her, a less hearty specimen was crying, and as Alecto watched, began to sob, head back. Elves appeared to comfort her and the girl bawled harder. The noise set Alecto's teeth on edge. She didn't particularly like children, and she especially didn't like weepy, noisy children.

The one who'd questioned Malfoy stopped as well, put down the jumpers she'd been packing and put her arms round the other girl, sliding across the bed to reach her. The first one kept bawling, clinging to the little lion-girl as she yowled like a dying animal.

Alecto, realizing this wasn't about to just stop, sighed to herself and went to break it up. She marched down the aisles and approached the two, putting a hand on the shoulder of each.

'That's enough, now. You're a big girl, aren't you? Act like it.'

The weeper ignored her, clinging harder. The other one ignored her as well, patting the other's back. Alecto huffed. Steeling herself, she reached out and tugged them apart, careful not to clamp down. The cryer howled as though in pain, stopping only when Alecto cupped her chin.

'Enough. You were given orders and you need to fulfil them. Now pack your things, and no more of this crying. Do you understand?'

When the girl didn't answer, Alecto, at wits' end, spun her and gave her two sharp swats. Any Wizarding child was familiar with the idea that adults could, and would, reinforce their authority with a few swift smacks as needed, and the gesture got the girl moving again.

'You can't do that!'

The little lion-girl. She'd told Lucius she thought this would be a problem. 'Beg your pardon?'

'You can't hit us!'

'I didn't hit anyone. I exercised my prerogative to discipline a disobedient child. If you'd not like more of the same, I'd suggest you adjust that tone and commence packing.'

The lion-girl was not cowed. 'It isn't right, hitting a smaller person that way.'

The other girls were listening with ears pricked up, clearly thrilled and shocked in equal measure by this overt defiance. Alecto could sense immediate action was needed, so, cursing that this time had to be devoted to curtailing a pint-sized Spartacus, lashed out a hand, seizing the girl's wrist, and sat down on the bed, hauling the child toward her, and then over her knee.

Their was an audible gasp as the girl ended up across her knee. Alecto could feel the eyes on them, but ignored the on-lookers completely. 'Elves, keep the others packing whilst I deal with this.'

The girl, to her credit, wasn't squirming or pleading a bit. She was rigid across Alecto's lap, either shocked or angry. Alecto ignored that as well, opting to flip up the child's skirt and tug down her knickers as rapidly as possible.
The room was absolutely still. Alecto jerked the little knickers to the girl's skinny knees and raised a hand, bring it down with a resounding smack on the girl's backside.

'You are a bad, disobedient little girl! Why are you being punished?'

'OW! I talked back!'

'Yes, you did. Bad girl! When you are given directions, you obey them!'

'OW! OW! Yes, Miss!'

Alecto pinned the girl's legs under one of her own and went to work, giving sharp, even slaps all the way up and down. The girl started to squirm, gasping and trying to kick. Her legs were locked, and all she could do was wriggle helplessly, gasping and sniffling.

'Please! Oww! Stop!'

'I'll stop when I think you've learnt your lesson, not a second before! The rest of you, keep working or you'll get all this as well!'

Alecto's hand was starting to smart, but not nearly as much, she warranted, as the girl's backside, which was rapidly reddening under her palm. She lifted her knee and delivered a dozen hard slaps to the child's sit spots, prompting the first sobs and a renewed struggle.

Alecto held her more tightly and went down the back of both thighs a handbreadth, making the slaps harder and not lighter. The girl cried steadily, writhing.

Alecto stopped. 'Elf, a hairbrush.'

An elf handed her one, grabbed from the closest bed. Alecto flipped it and gave another dozen, right where the girl sat down. She cried out and then, sobbing, stopped fighting at all.

Alecto sat down the brush. 'Now, get up and stand in the centre of the room. Hands on your head, girl! You'll pull those up when I've given you permission!'

The girl, knickers about her ankles, weepily complied, hands tangled in her hair. The others were moving at remarkable speed, trying to stare covertly at their disgraced classmate, curious. Mostly sympathetic too, Alecto guessed from their sad eyes and soft conversations.

Finally they'd finished, and Alecto gave the elves a nod. She marched over to the girl, tugging her knickers up as the girl squirmed and jiggled in place. Alecto grabbed one of her little wrists and turned round, prepared to forcibly escort the child to the Hall.

She smelt something coppery. Turning, she saw the thin stream of blood oozing from the child's nose and cursed to herself. 'Elf, a handkerchief.'

The girl pressed it to her nose without being prompted, pinching her nostrils shut. Alecto loosened her grip a bit.

'You'll go the Hall and apologise to the Dark Lord for being so naughty. If you fail to comply, or disrespect anyone else, I shall ask Mr. Goyle to repeat the punishment then and there, do you understand?'

The girl's eyes widened. 'Yes, Miss.'

'Good. Come along, now.'

Things were uneventful until they'd run into a small party of Death Eaters. One of them was Bellatrix, and she was also bleeding. 'What did you do to her, Alecto?'

Alecto slowed down. 'Answer Madam Lestrange, girl.'

'Smacked me.'

'Madam Lestrange.'

'Smacked me, Madam Lestrange.'

'Oh? Did the girl give you cheek?'

'She did.'

Beside her, her husband shook his head. 'How sad. I do hope you'll be a good little girl from now on.'

The girl sniffled and rubbed her eyes with her free hand, prompting concealed smiles from the Death Eaters at the sheer childishness of it. 'Yes, sir.'

'There's a love.' The swept ahead, Bellatrix holding her bleeding hand so it dripped onto the stones.

'Why is that lady bleeding, Miss?'

'She was serving the Dark Lord, that's all you need to know.'

The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow at the scene and made as though to inquire when a foul-smelling man bent and sniffed.

'Whose little girl is this? She smells familiar.'