A/N: I am editing the next 6 chapters. It will take a few days to edit each chapter so I look forward to any comments and suggestions.

I claim no copyright or benefits from this story. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling


Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent the day with bated breath waiting for the return of their former Potions Master. They barely spoke, not wanting to bring up the attack that may have been happening at that very instant to their loved ones. Something could have gone wrong, someone could have gotten hurt, or died. They spent most of the day in the musty living room, as the cramped dark quarters upstairs, did nothing to lighten their moods. Ron found some shelf stables in the kitchen, and they silently ate toast with beans. It was dark by the time the older man apparated back into the house.

Snape barely was able to take a step when he was bombarded with questions. Eventually, he assured them that it went according to plan and that everyone was safe for the time being. Then came the question of what happens next.

With practiced calmness, he said, "I still have my role to play." He paused about to bring the grim news. "However, the Dark Lord is gaining power fast. I have been making him a faux rejuvenation potion. This potion is more powerful than most and has the added effect of making the consumer's magic more potent. Perhaps this latest victory of taking over the Ministry of Magic has revitalized him. I don't know how long I can be unbound. By the next meeting, I think he will be able to bind me to him once again." He said all this, not sure if the youths would know his implications. The ritual would have to be completed quickly to give time for the bond to grow and be enough to refute the Dark Lord's claims.

Hermione, catching on quickly shook her head. "We just found out about this barbaric tradition yesterday. Does it really have to be so soon?"

"Trust me, I would not be running towards my own subjugation unless it was a necessity. I have been able to put this off for far too long." Snape said stoically.

Harry's eyes were full of fear, Hermione was right. This was too much information and it was happening so quickly. However, if Snape was right and this was part of Dumbledore's plan he did not want to let the late Headmaster down. He spoke up "Fine, will we complete the bond?"

Snape bowed his head slightly "When you see fit Master, however, I would suggest tomorrow as I do not know how much a toll the ritual will take."

Snape knew he did not have the energy, but that is not what mattered. He would, however, try to convince Harry that it was not a good idea.

Harry looked at him quizzically. "It will require you to force your magic through my body - it will go through my veins and embed in my mind. A strong-will is what makes this magic so strong, and another reason why this form of enslavement is rarer. Fortunately, it is your right to take me, according to the custom. Which is why it is harder for the Dark Lord, and what gives us a chance."

The thought of having to force his magic through another person did not comfort Harry, however, he knew that if he did not do this Snape would be controlled by Voldemort.


Severus woke the next day at dawn. It was strange to think after seventeen years he would be bound to the boy who was the enemy to his prior Masters. He knew that the curse would not take his true feelings away, but it would do what it could to ensure he served the boy's wishes. He would be linked to his Master's desires and his mind and body would strive to please.

The strange thing was that it didn't feel like a death sentence. Being bound again to the Dark Lord or Lucius Malfoy was a whole different story. Snape didn't know what the boy would do with his power, but from the years teaching him he never sensed anything malicious or sadistic. Even if the boy did come to like the taste of power there was nothing much he could do. From his birth, he was a slave, and there were those who served and those who ruled.

After his morning ponderings, he went down to his cellar, which with magic had space for cauldrons, his potion making materials, storage, and a greenhouse. Once the Dark Lord had rearisen and called him through the Dark Mark, he had been charged with creating a rejuvenation potion - one that would not only restore his strength, but his magic and potentially make it stronger. He had done what he could to dilute the potion so that the Dark Lord would see some results and not question him. The potion required very rare plants that took him a few years to obtain and transplant successfully in his greenhouse.

He checked on the plants and noted that tomorrow would be the most optimal time to collect the seeds, which would be used alongside other exotic and rare ingredients. He didn't hear any noise from upstairs, so he headed out to the market, knowing that he would not have enough food for four. The forming bond had made him struggle a bit when he did not ask permission to go to the market and spend money, but being his last day in freedom he decided to live with the temporary pain and if there were consequences he would suffer those later.

As usual, the sour employees didn't pay much attention as he grabbed his groceries. He paid, using some of his last remaining money Dumbledore had pulled out before his death. He had grieved, not only losing a mentor and friend but the only person who he had confided to and who genuinely seemed to care about him.

When Snape got back the three were already up. They had a pot of tea boiling and he noticed the last of the bread gone. He had picked some more up from the store and put the groceries away. He was actually surprised there had been no complaints so far for here meager lodgings or food. He never expected guests, so he didn't keep much in the house. He had always appreciated the kindness of Albus for all the inconvenience it caused to send him muggle money and rarely splurged on frivolous things, especially food. He did, however, keep a bottle of firewhiskey and gin in a cabinet. It helped him cope some nights when he had to spend the summers alone in this dreary place full of nightmares.

Ron was thrilled at the plethora of food Snape had bought. Snape actually had no idea what they would like to eat so grabbed most of the necessities. He also had space in his greenhouse for more mundane plants; tomatoes, peppers, and herbs. If he had not had the aptitude he thought he would have been trained as a chef. Cooks, potion brewers, bodyguards, gardeners, domestic cleaners, and of course those used for sex were common slave positions. He had been quite fortunate to have had the aptitude for being a potions master or who knows where he could have ended up?


By late afternoon Snape knew he could no longer put it off and went to the kitchen and had swigged some of the gin, letting the spicy warming liquid calm his nerves. He pulled Harry aside who was teaching Ron some muggle card games from a deck of cards they found in a cupboard. Harry looked nervous but knew what he had to do.

"The ritual will drain you, you may recover in a few hours or a few days. It just depends, do you understand Master?"

Harry nodded knowing what Snape would be going through something much worse. Harry still had years of resentment and hatred towards the potions master, but he still was not comfortable with this situation.

Severus showed him how to place the wand on the back of his neck, and the words to say. Harry told him he understood. Severus then took off his cloak and shirt and knelt, his head bowed. He knelt there a long time feeling the cold wood floor, wondering if the boy would go through with it. He was about to look up when he heard the ancient words. At first very soft, but then repeated over and over, growing louder with each passing "

"Tenetur servus ei juramento, hic servus meus est."

"Tenetur servus ei juramento, hic servus meus est."

"Tenetur servus ei juramento, hic servus meus est."

By the fifth phrase, he felt the magic flowing into his neck. It was quite unlike Voldemort's or Lucius' grasp, cold and icy. It felt warm, as he felt it go through his veins, binding him to the boy. He felt the words, invading his mind. He could feel his thoughts, shifting. For so many years he had only thought about himself, doing what he could to get ahead and most importantly survive. His thoughts changed, thinking about what he could do for the boy - his Master.

Harry was fighting a completely different battle. He felt his magic push into the older wizard, and the farther his magic went the more he had to put his energy into his wand. He knew that Snape had other claims, which was maybe why this was so difficult. After a few minutes, he felt his energy start to waver. By that time he

felt a brief connection in his mind as if Snape's thoughts were in his mind. I am claimed, I am yours, is what he heard in his mind before he collapsed.


Hermione and Ron had been waiting outside the door. When they heard the words stop and heard a thud they rushed in the room.

Panicked, they exclaimed, "Is he going to be alright!?"

When they came in Snape snapped out of his thoughts. He ran his hand over the boy, a skill passed down through the centuries. This allowed him to feel that his Master was unhurt.

"Yes, however, I am unsure of how long it will take him to recover." Snape got off of his knees and lifted his Master onto the bed. Ron watched, his face in horror, as their former professor very gingerly tucked in his friend. The look on Snape's face unnerved him, it was not his usual passive stone mask or snarky glare. Instead, he looked very concerned at Harry.

After fixing the blanket and pillows, Snape bowed low, with none of the curtness of his previous bows. He then went out of the room to busy himself, the bond would tell him when his Master would awaken.

The two remaining in the room looked at each other. Unlike Snape, they could not tell if their friend was well. They had to trust his words. It didn't seem like Harry was in pain, just fatigued. They would let him rest and check in on him throughout the day.

Snape kept himself busy figuring if he was constantly moving his emotions would not catch up to him. He checked all his plants in the garden, pruning and making sure they were all coming along well and checked the stocks on potion supplies.

To his dismay when he went to clean the cauldrons to prepare for tomorrow, he realized that he couldn't cast any spells with his wand. His Master hadn't given his specific instructions yet, so it looked like casting magic would have to be put on hold until his Master woke up, as long as he received permission. He sighed and cleaned the cauldrons by hand until he realized it was getting late. When he came upstairs from the cellar he saw the sun was setting.

He then went upstairs to check again on his Master. The forms of magic that he could currently perform were those service magic - similar to house elves. He once again waved his hands checking the vitals of his Master. While he was barely conscious, Snape figured he should be fully alert by tomorrow. He was young, so he should recover quickly. However, he did feel that his Master needed food.

Snape went back down and prepared a soup. Hermione offered to help feed Harry which he gratefully let her take over. As the two headed upstairs he went to the kitchen to wash the dishes by hand.

As he was in the kitchen Ron stepped in. "How come you're not using scourgify?" Harry's best friend said.

'Give me patience', Severus thought. "While this could be meditative, I currently cannot cast any spells using my wand." Severus did his best not to snarl.

"Oh." was the reply from Ron. "Erm, want me to cast the spell."

Snape really did not want to be pitied, especially by the Weasley brat.

Ron sensing the anger said cheerfully "The food was really great, it's the least I could do." So Ron cast the spell and work that would have taken an hour was finished in mere seconds.

Hermoine came into the kitchen to see what going on. "Professor Snape, did you eat yet? There's still plenty left over."

How quaint, the girl was still using honorifics. Snape replied simply "I do not know yet if I have permission. I will wait until my Master wakes up."

She said distraught "Harry would not keep that from you. I know him, he would not let you starve. Please eat, you need your strength as well."

Snape knew she was tender-hearted, starting ridiculous clubs to free house-elves, but he knew that he would need permission. He especially did not want to push boundaries as he knew what pain it could inflict. He replied, "I will be fine, there is no need for concern."

She did not seem convinced but didn't want to press him too hard. After all, this was a new concept and she did not know what it would do to him. She and Ron went back to the living room, she read a book on a couch and Ron played a new game Harry taught him called solitaire.

By the time he was done preparing his lab downstairs, he realized it was quite late. The only noises he could hear were crickets and frogs. However, he was not sure where to rest. He did not receive permission of where to sleep. He had wanted to get the ritual over with quickly and did not lay some of the basics that he forgot over time. Ron and Hermione were already upstairs, sleeping in the sleeping bags they had brought from the Burrow. He didn't blame them, as his blankets were threadbare and the beds creaked with every movement. He didn't feel right to ask Dumbledore for money for new bedding, so he just did his best to repair the remaining furniture and linens.

He was about to sleep on the couch again but got a slight stinging sensation in his head. Similar to the formation of a migraine, but he knew the pain would increase if he did not comply. He then tried to sleep the floor, but it was the same. He then signed and went upstairs and knelt at the bedpost. He felt himself nodding off with no apparent stinging sensation, so figured that this was satisfactory to the bond. As a child, he had learned how to sleep when kneeling. He leaned against the bedpost letting that hold his weight, and exhausted fell asleep, realizing that his life as a slave had begun again.