The next morning, Snape woke to the smells of breakfast. Winky put a tray down by the bed and smiled.
"Why has Potter not come to kick me to work, yet?" he inquired acerbically.
Winky seemed confused. "Harry Potter Sir never kick living things. Only furniture. Harry Potter Sir not here. Has gone to visit his Wheezy and his Grangy. Not be here for days."
So. Potter had purchased him, and then left without sparing him another glance. He supposed he should be grateful for a respite from the tortures. Without Potter here, he could recover, and hopefully have brewed a supply of potions before his new Master returned. Perhaps having Wolfsbane ready would pacify Potter and keep him disinterested in harming his new slave?
He should be grateful to be ignored for now. Then why did a small, idiotic part of him secretly think he would prefer being beaten?
sssssssss
The shed, as the elves had called it, was actually a very low, small stone building down a narrow path in the back yard. Getting inside required descending three or four small steps, and Snape found that while not quite up to his pre-Azkaban standards, it was adequately furnished as a potions lab. Post-Azkaban standards, it far exceeded his expectations.
Wards covered the building, and a number of Muggle safety measures had also been installed. As far as Snape knew, the strange little faucets hanging from the ceiling would emit water if anything caught fire below. Despite being mostly underground, the lab was light. An adapted Muggle cooking island in the middle made brewing several potions at once easier – the brewer could simply circle around from one potion to the other.
A cot stood in a far corner. Snape assumed it would be his new bed from now on – before now it had undoubtedly be intended to sleep on when potions needed overnight tending. Though he could not imagine why Potter would have such a nice lab. The boy had been rubbish at Potions, though perhaps his friend Hermione Granger had used it. That girl had a good set of brains and determination to learn. She had been annoyingly obvious about it in class, which often attracted his ire, but he did respect intelligence.
He sighed, and plucked at his threadbare robes. The elves had cleaned them for him, at least. Well. At least Potter kept a few lab coats – he would not have to subject his only set of robes to all kinds of ingredients and potions.
Taking stock of the inventory, he took out the ingredients for Wolfsbane, and for some of the potions Winky had requested. These were rather simple to brew, and he suspected he would have all of them done in a day or two. To his satisfaction, he even remembered a few modifications he had made on those cleaning potions when he was bored.
Winky was pleased with the potions he presented to her at the end of that day – very much at the end of that day – but she did scold him for not coming to the house to eat, or at least call her to make him a sandwich. He almost smiled sadly. The Elves thought the world of Potter, and he did believe the boy would treat them well. They could not imagine that Potter would ever hurt anyone, ever deny anyone basic needs. He was determined that once Potter returned, he would keep his hurts and needs hidden from the elves – he would allow them to keep their image of Potter as a perfect master. They deserved that much; Dobby and Winky had done their best for him ever since Potter got him from Azkaban.
So despite the elves's protests, he insisted on sleeping in the shed, claiming he preferred to be close to the potions he was working on. He insisted on working from early morning until evening, and only ate when Winky brought him food. As long as Potter was absent, he did take time to sleep. He was too much of a Slytherin not to realize that periods of rest may be few and far between in the future.
Actually, he contemplated after a week, this wasn't so bad. He got up in the morning, washed, drank the coffee Winky usually had left for him, got to work, took brief breaks for lunch and dinner, then went to sleep. He was busy doing something he liked, and while conditions weren't exactly perfect, in Azkaban there had been nothing to sleep on but the hard floor, nothing to distract himself from misery, nothing to occupy his mind. Now he had at least a cot and blankets, food, and an occupation. If Potter wasn't going to come back soon, he could get used to this life – even be content.
It wasn't until the evening of the tenth day that Potter came home.
ssssssss
"Harry Potter Sir is back!"
Two very happy, excited elves attached themselves to a leg each of the young wizard, who simply grinned and patted their heads. Snape watched from the shadows of the hall, wondering if he should bother his master unbidden. The elves had not seen him enter, nor Potter, and he quietly observed their interaction. Potter seemed most kind to the elves, as he had been in his school years, but it stunned even Snape when he pulled two packages from his pocket and gave them to the elves.
"Presents! Oh, Master Harry Potter Sir is kind and generous!" Dobby whispered in awe, before opening his gift. Soon the elves hugged Potters legs again in gratitude.
"You're very welcome, guys. So, how have things been here?"
"Winky is happy. Professor Snape sir brewed potions for cleaning, lots better than what Winky had. Professor Snape be needing things though, Professor Snape not has robes or wand. And Professor Snape be sleeping in shed! Won't sleep in rooms no matter what Winky or Dobby say."
Potter frowned, and Snape knew he was in trouble. The elf undoubtedly meant to be kind, but her list had sounded like complaints about his behaviour…
Potter noticed him for the first time, and steeling his nerves Snape went over to him.
"I figured the first thing Winky would show you was the lab," Potter commented.
"Yes…sir," Snape ground out, "I have brewed the potions she requested as well as a supply of Wolfsbane…"
If he had hoped to pacify Potter with that, he had been sorely mistaken. Potters green eyes darkened, and he took a step back.
Snape looked at the elves in confusion, wondering what he had done wrong.
"I am sure the Werewolf Foundation will appreciate your effort," Potter finally ground out, "but if you intended it…"
"I…assumed Remus Lupin…" Snape began to wonder if he was even going to survive this conversation.
"Then you were mistaken. Though, of course…if you were in Azkaban…I hadn't realized…" Potter mused. "Of course you would not know."
He shook his head. "Remus is dead. The loss of Tonks in the war, and his many injuries…he did not survive the second full moon after the battle."
Potter closed his eyes, apparently trying to push back the memories. When he opened them again, he was calm. "No matter. The Werewolf foundation will be pleased to have Wolfsbane at their disposal again."
Clearly considering the matter closed Potter turned away from him, but before leaving for his own rooms, added over his shoulder, "Tomorrow Winky will take you to Diagon Alley. And do use those rooms she cleaned out for you – I'd hate to think she has put in the effort in vain."
Then he was gone. Snape found himself alive, unharmed and even with more than he'd had an hour ago. Winky beamed at him in happiness, apparently sizing him up for robes. Once again, Snape got the eerie feeling that she almost considered him a cute pet, and Potter had just given her permission to go to the petstore and buy a new collar.
He briefly wondered what had happened to his own possessions, his vault at Gringotts and the small house at Spinner's End. He supposed that either the Ministry had seized them, or they were given over to Potter. Either way, it did not matter much. He would never have money of his own again, and in this way he did not have to feel grateful, even if he had to act the part, for whatever was purchased for him. He was after all, essentially still paying for it himself.
sssssssssssss
Diagon Alley was hard. People stared at him, decidedly unfriendly, and there were just so MANY of them! Winky skilfully led him to Madam Malkins, where she ordered three complete new sets of clothes for him. Madam Malkins, at least, simply ignored him after measuring him. Then the apothecary where Winky handed Snape the list of ingredients Potter wanted ordered, and left it to him to pick them.
Finally she dragged him to Ollivander's, which made Snape balk.
"Surely Potter can't have meant for you to get me a wand," he tried to reason with her, "I am his slave. I am not allowed a wand."
"You is great wizard, Professor Snape," she replied, "yous can do magic without wand, you can! But with wand much better."
"But I am not allowed a wand, Winky," he made another attempt, "and surely Potter knows that. I think you should at least ask him first."
Winky shook her head in exasperation, took his hand and pulled him into the shop.
Ollivander appeared almost immediately, looking old, frail and not nearly as mysterious as he had been in the past. The war had taken its toll on him, too.
"Severus Snape," he smiled slightly, "well, come along. I have a few wands for you to try out."
Alright, maybe not as mysterious as he had been, but certainly just as efficient.
"You are not going to call the Aurors?" Snape asked warily.
The old man looked at him. "Albus has made many mistakes and poor decisions," he said, "and I certainly will not defend that. But he is my friend and I have always trusted his opinion on you, not to mention your actions in the last battle proved it. Finally, you forget, young man," he tapped his measuring lint, "I've had your number ever since you were a little boy."
Snape's eyes gleamed, and he glanced at Winky, who was looking at the display wands at the other end of the room.
"Could you pass along a message to the Headmaster for me?" he whispered to the old man, "I want him to know that so far, I am well, and thank him for his attempt to buy me from Potter."
Ollivander simply nodded, then shoved a wand in his hand. "Go on, give it a wave."
sssssssssss
On the way home, the glares clearly increased – apparently word had spread he was in the Alley.
"If anyone attacks us, do not worry about me, get yourself home, Winky," Snape said quietly to the little elf, "I will not let anyone hurt you."
Winky smiled and patted his leg. "That is being sweet, but they won't be attacking us."
She stroked the lily on his hand. "They is knowing full well what this means."
Of course. The mark of ownership. They would not offend Potter by damaging his property. And even if Potter would not mind too much that they attacked him, he had seen enough of the Hero of the war to know that Potter certainly would retaliate fiercely were anyone to attack Winky.
Winky popped them both back to the cottage.
"Now. You is sitting down," she ordered him, suddenly stern, "Winky is having to scold you now."
He looked at her, uncomprehending.
"Yous is not needing to send secret messages with Mr Ollivander," she chided, waving a finger in his face, and for a moment Snape panicked. He had been found out. She would tell Potter, and then…
The elf continued, and the noise in his ears receded enough to hear her. "…if yous be needing to send a message, Winky will be finding Hedwig or Boreas. Harry Potter Sir has two owls, Professor Snape can use one."
He shook his head. "You still do not get it! I am not your PET, I am a SLAVE!" by the time he ended his sentence, he was yelling.
"You don't get to buy me wands, or clothes, or allow me to send messages! I am nothing! Property! Good for work and to torment! You do not do things that could get you into trouble! Get used to it!"
Winky was opening her mouth to reply when the door flew open, revealing Potter, with a shocked Dobby peering around his legs.
"What is going on here?" he demanded, "Why the hell are you shouting at Winky?"