A/N - Okay so this is my first ever fanfiction, now I never was into English or writing at school and this is just me procrastinating instead of revising so don't have any expectations, it probably doesn't even make sense! With that in view here is a bit of background information for this story:

- This is loosely based on Xanthe's BDSM universe only it's a minority in an otherwise regular world. So anything recognisable credit goes to her. Read her BDSM stories if you haven't yet, they are amazing you don't even need to have watched the programs first, read Coming Home first then General and Dr Sheppard.

- A Dom/Sub just knows when they have met their partner; it's a bit like, and I'm loathe to admit it, like the imprinting in twilight.

- Being a Dom or Sub or Switch is not a choice it is who you are and it may take a while to realise/accept that, like Harry in this. I am not saying this is how D/s relationships should be, IT'S FICTION!

- Set in Harry's third year, things are pretty much the same with the blowing up of the aunt and the Grim and Lupin etc. Harry is 15, Snape is 38. I know this probably doesn't comply with the books but, well, I don't care.

I don't own HP, JK does obviously. I'm not making any money from this either.

Potter's POV

It feels so good to be back at Hogwarts. I'm finally back home where I belong after the long… eventful summer at my Aunt and Uncle's ended rather abruptly. Don't get me wrong I'm relieved I'm not in the shit over the whole blowing-up-my-Aunt-thing, it was amusing to say the least, Fred and George were well impressed, it's just I can't help feeling I should be punished for losing control like that. I don't want people thinking, and by people I mean Malfoy and Snape, that I got off because I'm The Boy Who Bloody Lived. Ever since first year they've treated me like I think I ought to be worshiped, ought to have everything handed to me on a silver platter, that I've had a perfect spoiled childhood. Fat lot they know. I just want to be a regular teenager with regular teenage responsibilities not my Saviour-of-the-World responsibilities. I don't want to be in control. I would be content to hand the reigns over to someone else. Obviously I haven't voiced these thoughts, not even to Ron and Hermione, because hello Gryffindor courage and all. I'm not a coward. I just want to be me, not who they want me to be.

Enough with the heavy stuff it's time for the feast, hell yeah I could eat for hours and then sleep for a week, too bad I can't because first thing tomorrow lessons start, and that's right, you've guessed it, Potions is my first class. Typical.

It's as if Snape knows what I'm thinking, in fact he probably does, because when I look up at the teachers table hoping to glower at Bumbledore, yes I mean Bumbledore not Dumbledore because let's face it the man is off his rocker, for my crap timetable I instead catch Snape's eye. Again I repeat; typical. It's like he can see right into my soul and in that moment I feel this strange connection to the man who has been out to get me for the past three years. I turn away confused shoving as much food into my gob as fast as I can. What? I'm eating for practically the entire summer in one meal, I don't usually eat like this; I'm not Ron!

Throughout the whole feast I can feel his eyes on me, watching me, but I daren't turn to face him, I don't want to feel that weird connection thing. I don't even want to know what it is. I just want to eat, sleep and get on with my life with as little contact with Snape as possible.

I don't ponder what the connection means while trying to sleep through Ron's snoring, I really don't. Anyone would think after three years I'm used to the snoring but I'm not, how can I be when he sounds like a freaking lawnmower with mechanical issues.

Morning comes too soon for my liking, for anyone's liking.

Snape's POV

Its September again, and with that comes annoying hyper-active, overly keen first-years and the rest of the brattish children. That's what they are; children. Just the word makes me want to crawl into the deepest recesses of my mind. But that's what he is; a child. A student. My student.

From my position on the staff table all I can see is the back of his head but I can tell he is thin, as he is every time he returns from a summer with them. It's no surprise he's eating like there's no tomorrow. When he looks up at the staff table, as I know he inevitably would, his eyes lock onto mine and I can feel the connection; our connection. I can feel that the connection has changed, is changing, from what it was first like three years ago.

I knew the first time I laid eyes on him. I knew who he was, how could I not he was the spitting image of his bastardly father, except for his eyes, he has his mother's eyes. Lily. Why her son but not her? It's as if fate is mocking me. Of course I was angry, how could I not be when I am now bonded to a Potter for the rest of my life, even if he is part Evans. Somehow that makes it worse. I take it out on him; I have been taking it out on him since he got here. He probably doesn't deserve it. Why would he want to be bonded to his Potions Master anyway? My resentment and anger at the situation is commonly mistaken for hatred. My life would be so much easier if I hated the boy. But I don't, I can't.

The connection has become stronger and I can tell from his confused expression that he has felt it, probably for the first time. As much as it pains me it seems it is time for me to educate the boy on this new development as he certainly won't figure it out for himself; he probably wouldn't even with the Know It All's help. That conversation will go down well, I can just imagine it:

Me – 'So Potter it seems we are bonded, you are my Submissive, it's either be with me or be alone'

Potter – 'You perverse greasy bastard! I'll bet you've been perving on me since first year! How dare you bond with me! How dare you even suggest that I'm a Submissive, I'm the Boy Who Lived for fucks sake and even if I was why the hell would I want you?! You're old and greasy and and…. OLD?!'

Me – 'As eloquent as ever Potter. But, as with most things, you are wrong. What makes you think I chose to bond to you? What makes you think I want to be bonded to you for the rest of our lives you insolent little brat? If there was any way of preventing it would you not think I would have already thought of it? This isn't a choice Potter. As for the 'perving' as you so crudely put it, I have no desire to sleep with you or indeed do anything with you. I can assure you this is a far greater inconvenience for me than it is for you.'

We would most likely come to throwing hexes or even physical blows. It would not end well. Nope, I need to be more Slytherin; first I must make him realise he is a Submissive; realise that he is lost; realise that he is being saved; realise that he needs to be saved, wants to be saved, by me. This must be a slow process. I must gain his trust and give him reason to trust me. He has to want this too, or I don't. I will not let him make me a rapist, a child molester. To achieve this I need some one-on-one time with him. The only obvious reason would seem to be detentions; this is Potter so it's hardly taxing for me to find a reason to detain him. I will probably be presented with one tomorrow.

Now that Albus' ridiculous speech is over I can finally retire to the safety of my quarters to think of suitably Slytherin plan.

A/N - So that was it. Should I even bother continuing it?