Author's Notes

Thank you to everyone who reviewed my last chapter; I hope you all enjoy this one.

I'm thinking of bringing a second slave into the story, if only for a few chapters. I have 3 possibilities in mind: Colin Creevey (and obviously his brother), an adult canon character who has yet to appear (someone from the Order?), or an OC related in some way to Snape. Who would people prefer?

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Harry thought a lot about Snape's words over the next few weeks, in amongst lessons and time with his friends. He also received his first Quidditch lesson from the Gryffindor team captain, Oliver Wood, and found himself greatly looking forward to the future team practices and inter-house matches.

It was with some surprise that he came to realise that he had been at Hogwarts for over two months. He felt finally at home, in a way that he had never felt at the Dursley's. Magic was becoming easier for him, and lessons more fun. And for perhaps the first time he could remember, he had real friendships; people he had grown to care about, and crucially, people that also cared about him.

If only he could free Severus, then everything would be perfect.

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Severus sat in his office next to the Potions classroom, simply staring dismally across the room.

For ten years Dumbledore had had custody of him. Albus; his friend, his mentor, the man that went out of his way to make Severus feel like a free person. For almost a decade, he had barely acted like a slave. True, he had had little money, and had to get Dumbledore's permission to do certain activities, but there had been no one he was forced to call Master. He had even been allowed to teach, to have authority over a school full of free children.

In just a few minutes, that would change. His Master, Harry James Potter, had turned eleven years old, and would be arriving at Hogwarts right now if he had not already. Would be told of his inheritance, of his ownership of Snape.

He was Lily's son. Surely he could not be too unlike his mother. Lily had been a wonderful Mistress, had bought him off Malfoy at presumably great expense, just to save him from being abused. Surely Harry would follow in her footsteps.

But then, Harry had not been raised by his mother. And he was an eleven-year-old boy, suddenly granted complete authority over someone far older than he was. Could he really resist using that power?

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"Severus, come with us," said Harry quietly.

It was Hallowe'en, and an unkind comment from Ron had just resulted in the two of them having to rescue Hermione from a huge, full-grown mountain troll. McGonagall had just dismissed them (from the girls' toilets of all places) but he needed to speak to Snape.

Severus had been standing quietly as the Deputy Mistress first reprimanded, and then reluctantly congratulated his master. At his name he came instantly, glancing back at McGonagall. She pursed her lips, obviously not approving of Harry's order, but she could say and do nothing. Snape was Harry's to command as he saw fit.

They left the toilets, and Harry waited until they were a few corridors away before stopping and turning around.

"Why didn't you go with the other teachers to the dungeons?" he asked bluntly. Ron added his own agreement to the question, while Hermione just looked between them enquiringly.

Snape sighed. He hadn't realised that he'd been seen - and by his master of all people, the one person he could not refuse to answer.

"I… suspected the troll to be a diversion, Master," he answered reluctantly.

"A diversion to what?"

He hesitated. "There is… something hidden in the school at the moment. It's not my place to tell you what it is, unless of course you order me to do so. I suspected that somebody might be using the troll to distract the teachers while they went after it."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Who did you suspect?"

He didn't want to answer, but it had been a direct question, a type of order. "Professor Quirrell," he said reluctantly.

"That stuttering idiot?" said Ron incredulously.

"He didn't always stutter."

"So what's hidden here? Harry –"

"I'm not going to order him to tell us, Ron. I want to know as much as you do but it wouldn't be right."

Hermione, who had opened her mouth to reprimand the redhead, closed it again and nodded in agreement.

"But come on –"

"Mr. Weasley." Now that he was assured of his master's opinion on the matter, he could take some authority here. "Mr. Potter may be my master, but you are my student. I can easily find some extra work for you if you have nothing productive to do with your time."

"Harry –" Ron protested.

"Hush, Ron," said Hermione, at the same time as Harry replied, "I'm not going to interfere with his teaching, Ron."

"May I go now, Master?" Snape asked stiffly.

"Yes."

"Thank you." He bowed, and headed back to his office.

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He stood at the entrance to Dumbledore's office, dread filling him. If Harry Potter was not like his mother, if he was more like Lucius Malfoy… in half an hour he could be stripped naked and writhing in pain on the floor, with Dumbledore unable to do a thing to stop it. The thought of Dumbledore watching such degradation was almost worse than the memory of his treatment in the Black family home, in front of Lily Potter.

He heard Dumbledore's call, and entered quickly. He glanced at the dark-haired boy, flicking his eyes up to the scarred forehead to confirm that it was, indeed, his master, and then fell to his knees, lowering his head to the floor in absolute submission.

"I vow to serve and obey you at all times, my master. I am yours, to do with as you wish."

There was silence for a moment, and he could hear his heart beating fast in fear. At last Dumbledore prompted his Master, and he was allowed to rise to his feet. He kept his head bowed until given permission to raise it.

When he finally looked straight at his master, and saw the apprehensive expression on his face, the relief was so great that he struggled to remain on his feet.