Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.. I own nothing, make no money from anything, and am writing this purely for personal enjoyment.

A/N:
- Work beta'd by Nikki. A million thanks. All mistakes are still my own.
- There is no explicit version needed for this story yet.
- Thank you for the extremely supportive reviews. This story is going to take second place to Atonement, but I will try to update when I can. Hope this chapter is satisfying ^_^.
- (divergence into explanation of grammar in response to Eug) Firstly, thank you for taking the time to critique. Here are your answers: "He could hardly deny the truth of that" had an implied 'statement' at the end, referring to the statement Snape had just asked to be confirmed (in much the same way as one would ask "We need to leave at ten?" - to verify already known data) . It was a very colloquial use of the language which I should have formalised. 'Truth in that' is used to mean that elements of a collective are true while 'truth of that' is used to mean the entirety is true - e.g. "While there is some truth in your words, I doubt the truth of your argument." Hope that helped!

Chapter 2: Opening Moves

The first act Snape committed as Harry's new Master was to send him to bed. Never in a million years had Harry imagined the game would start this way.

"But I'm not tired yet!" he protested without thinking.

"Did I ask if you were tired, pet?"

"No, Master."

"Then I suggest you do as I ordered. I had planned on introducing you to this slowly, but if you wish to discover the consequences of disobedience right this minute it can be arranged."

"Yes, Master. I mean no, Master." Harry was irritated with himself – he had not intended to give Snape the advantage so quickly. Harry moved to pick up his clothes, but Snape waved him away.

"Leave them. The flue connects directly to my private quarters. As you are still not well, you may sleep in the master bed and use the bathroom at will. Do not leave the bed for any other reason. And pet…"

"Yes, Master?"

"I will know if you touch anything. And if you do, I will ensure that you are in such condition that I may test my experimental skin regrowth potion on you."

Harry shuddered – there was not a trace of hyperbole in Snape's statement. He did as he was told with renewed determination - he had no intention of giving Snape that pleasure. He would play his part; no more, no less. He stepped through the flue and quickly found the master bedroom. He made use of the bathroom and then settled into the overly large bed with a sigh. He lay staring at the ceiling and felt himself begin to shake.

It was final, now. The time to run had been those few minutes between the infirmary and his first appointment with Snape. After that, the choices he had available to him had coalesced into two – cooperating or dying. Even if he had other choices, objectively, he had much to gain from cooperating. He would increase his power, and be in the perfect position to judge whether Snape needed to be removed. But he was under no illusions that this was going to be easy. He knew Snape. Snape would demand total control - control of his will as well as his actions. In the depths of his own mind he had to admit that the idea of giving up responsibility was tempting, but he didn't know if it would be possible for him to ever do it. He stared at the rich hunters-green curtains for some time until sleep unexpectedly claimed him.

Harry woke to see Snape standing above him, casting a diagnosis spell. It was hard to judge the exact time, but all the candles had been lit.

"You may get up for the evening. I have a guest coming for the earlier part, and I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Regard this as a test of your sincerity."

Harry's lips tightened at the malice in Snape's tone. He might be new to this, but he was not the fumbling incompetent Snape believed him to be. He would perform appropriately.

"Do you have any questions, pet?"

Harry knew he was being baited, and not just about the identity of the guest – clothing had not been mentioned, and there was none laid out.

"No, Master," he replied, deliberately cheerful. He caught Snape's lips twitch before he could control them. Score one to Harry, then.

Snape led him through to the lounge.

"Kneel here, next to my chair."

Harry knelt down awkwardly.

"You may sit back. You may sit back on your heels any time I am not interacting with you. Legs further apart, hands on your thighs and eyes down."

Snape walked around him, nudging him into the indicated position, invading his personal space and heightening the awareness of his nudity.

"I suggest you turn your toes in, it will prove to be less painful. Be quiet and stay still until I release you. I trust even you have the intelligence to understand so simple a concept?"

"Yes, Master."

Harry heard Snape sit down and open a book. After only a few minutes of silence, Harry felt an absolute overwhelming need to move. He wasn't in pain, really – his feet felt rather as if they were itchy, and fire ran down to his toes – but the strangeness of staying still was frustrating. The impulse to move snuck up on him whenever his mind was distracted by other thoughts. But soon all thoughts of his discomfort were interrupted by the chiming of the door.

Harry listened as Severus stood and walked through to the next room. He prayed that the guest was no one he knew.

"Wait for me in the lounge, Draco, I'll be right through."

Harry winced. Of all people for it to be, it just had to be Draco. No wonder Snape had called it a test. He tried, rather unsuccessfully, to keep his breathing even. He wanted, desperately, wanted to bolt from the room, but that would be losing the game before he had barely begun it. Harry stilled as he heard Draco enter the room and come to an abrupt halt.

"You're Uncle Severus's new toy, Potter? Oh, this is just too excellent."

Harry pressed his lips together firmly. Ironically, not responding to Draco's taunts was already something he was well practiced at. Draco walked forward until Harry could see the bottom of his robes. All thoughts of fleeing had now disappeared; instead, he felt nailed to the floor. He clenched his fists as Draco reached forward and grabbed some of his hair. He would not react. He would not react.

"Draco, did I give you leave to touch my property?"

"Uncle Severus!" Draco let go of Harry's hair and moved rapidly out of Harry's sight.

"I'm waiting for an answer, Draco."

"No, but…"

"It seems you've taken leave of your manners entirely this evening, Mister Malfoy."

"Yes, My Lord. Please forgive my presumption."

"Tormenta."

Harry winced as he heard Draco cry out. He felt torn – relieved that Snape had saved him from Malfoy, but more anxious about the future than ever. If Snape treated Malfoy like that - Malfoy, his little darling - what on earth was he going to do with Harry? Harry was even more disturbed by the fact that after the curse had been lifted, Draco simply took his seat and resumed speaking as if nothing had happened. Significantly though, no further mention was made of Harry.

Harry soon lost track of their conversation. He could feel the skin of his feet starting to prickle, and his knees and thighs were starting to protest the stretch. Despite his best intentions, his weight shifted abruptly from time to time – like something was giving way. The pain in his knees became forgotten in favour of the pressure of his heels against his thighs, and then that was replaced by the prickling sensation in his feet, which was in turn subsumed by the pain in his knees.

By the time Draco took his leave, probably less than quarter of an hour after his arrival, Harry could think of nothing else besides his discomfort which by now was a constant dull ache in his lower legs.

Snape saw him out, and walked back to Harry.

"You may stand."

Harry tried to get up, but collapsed immediately to the floor again. He couldn't judge where his feet were to use them to stand.

"Use your hands, idiot boy."

Harry levered himself awkwardly to his feet. He couldn't bring himself to straighten his legs.

"Oh for heaven's sake. Sit down, then."

Gratefully he collapsed into a chair, only for pain to explode in his feet as he took his weight off them. His calves still felt heavy and dead, and his feet like they had been plunged into boiling water. He felt shaky and weak, as if he had been doing something infinitely more tiring than simply kneeling in one position.

"You performed… adequately this evening."

Harry suppressed a surge of pride. Maybe he would win this one after all.

"Now, tell me about your previous sexual experience."

And then again, maybe not.