CHAPTER 2 Visitors

In which our hero's best friend and the creator of SPEW, learns about the slave bond and reacts in a way which mildly surprises him. Arthur returns and brings Severus Snape with him. Severus is ill and then presents himself to his master and Arthur becomes even more confused and forgetful.

That night I did not sleep much at all, as not only was I still upset about everything: about my father, Snape, owning a slave and, perhaps most unnerving of all, that slave being who he was, but also other things were still puzzling me and whizzing around in my head. After breakfast I thought of Floo calling Arthur with my questions, but as it was a weekday he would be at the Ministry, and anyway Professor Snape would probably be able to tell me everything I needed to know – and tell it more coherently and understandably than Arthur was capable of I hoped.

Although actually that was another thing that was worrying me: would I able to talk to him about the… about it… without becoming too embarrassed and nervous? It had only been a couple of years since he had been the most strict, sarcastic, exacting and just generally aloof and intimidating of my teachers.

When I had first met the potions professor, that day of my first potions class, I had been looking forward to it and once he entered the classroom had felt drawn to him. I'd never told anyone about that, not ever, not even Hermione, but I had felt something, something quite strongly. I'd even felt that I had always known him, or, being fanciful, had known him as a dear friend in a previous life, but his reaction to me had been almost hostile, so after a few such potions classes I'd forgotten those feelings, or at least had dismissed them as ridiculous and thought I'd imagined them. Or that's what I'd told myself.

Even so, feelings dismissed or not, I had never hated or feared him as much as some of the students had: for example, Neville Longbottom had been so terrified of him that from pure nerves due to Snape's presence, he had regularly ruined whatever potion he was attempting to brew. No, I was nowhere near as bad as that, but even so, the mere thought of Professor Snape was still enough to make me sit up a bit straighter... and now he was my… slave… I could hardly bear to think of it. How were we to even start to talk to each other? What would he expect of me? Heck, if the roles were reversed and I was his slave it would have felt more natural, just as sick-makingly revolting yes, but somehow more natural, more believable.

That was another puzzle: since he must have known that someday he would belong to me, why hadn't he been really nice to me at school and not just slightly nicer than he was to the other students? It did not seem like normal behaviour at all, let alone Slytherin behaviour, to take points or be sarcastic to someone who was going to be your master in the future and might then make your life miserable in retaliation. Very strange; he was not stupid, quite the reverse, so he should have been trying to make me like him. Well, the whole thing was more than a little peculiar…

At that point the idea struck me: the whole thing must be one of the twins' pranks! … but after a few happier relieved moments and then some further thought, I realised that they wouldn't be so cruel as to pretend my father had been alive until recently… and even if they had been that cruel, Arthur would never have agreed to be part of it.

For several minutes I just sat there, feeling depressed. Another thought then presented itself; Snape was alive, I shouldn't be feeling so depressed; I should be delighted that the man was not dead as we had believed. Heck, that made me feel guiltier than ever. What an awful person I was.

Then...yet further thoughts... what about Ron and Hermione? What were they going to think and say, especially Hermione? Perhaps I should I tell them about it before Snape got here rather than leave it until later.

Hermione would be not a little upset if she only found out second hand; yes, and I could let her know how badly I felt about the whole thing and ask for her help to research ways of breaking the bond, of freeing him, and that might deflate her a bit, take the heat off me by directing all her attention to something she could do about it.

I decided to Fire-call her and ask her to come over right away; she had to know sometime, and it was best if she knew before anyone else. I'd get her to tell Ron; that might be one less angry reaction I had to worry about for a while.

Hermione would also be at work of course, but a few weeks ago she had started up her own private 'research firm'—she said that sounded better than a 'detective agency.' I don't know why she thought that, but suspected it was that, being Hermione, she naturally thought that anything with 'research' in the title sounded good. Anyway, that meant that not only was she her own boss but also, so far at least, the jobs had been slow coming in, so she almost always had time to do other things.

After fortifying myself by eating one of Dobby's good solid English breakfasts of fried eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, and, my favourite, fried bread slathered with marmalade and rashers of bacon on top of the marmalade—yum—and a cup of strong, sweet, tea with a dash of milk, I told myself not to be stupid, to not put it off any longer. A talk with my best friend should not require more courage than defeating Tommy Riddle had! So I walked over to the fireplace, picked up the Floo powder and made the call.

Her head appeared in the flames almost immediately. "Would you come through please Hermione? Something weird, well, weird and pretty awful really, has happened, and I need your advice."

She nodded and a few seconds later was standing before me, a concerned expression on her face. "What have you done now Harry?"

"Me? I haven't done anything!" I protested; indignant that she had immediately assumed that it was something I had done.

"Um, good. Well what is it then? What's happened? You look dreadful."

"So would you if Arthur had told you what he dropped on me yesterday," I said glumly. "I still can't quite believe it, do you think it could be one of the twins' pranks … that they've somehow conned or blackmailed Arthur into helping them with?"

"Harry, slow down, you haven't even told me what it is yet. I've got absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

I looked at her bemusedly. "What? Oh sorry, I'm still a bit distracted. I'm as bad as Arthur was when he told me …yes, well, the thing is, er…he told me that my father, my father and Snape, that they were…well…I don't know how to tell you…in fact I don't think I can after all...perhaps I'd better ask Arthur to come over and he can tell you..."

Hermione looked more concerned than ever, she put her hand on my arm. "Calm down, it can't be as bad as all that, whatever it is…come and sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea. Sit down for a minute and relax. You know there isn't anything that you can't tell me."

'That's what you think,' I muttered to myself, but then I took a deep breath and tried to pull myself together. I was being stupid about this, really really stupid; none of it was my fault after all.

Hermione walked towards the kitchen—It was one of the many times I had reason to be glad that I'd asked Dobby and Winky to be sure to make themselves scarce whenever she was here—and a few minutes later she came back into the room with two cups of tea and a plate of my favourite chocolate wheaten biscuits. I grabbed two of them and took a couple of large bites.

"Here Harry, take your tea too."

"Ah, thanks." I took a gulp of the tea...and half choked on the remainder of the biscuit which was still in my mouth.

Hermione slapped me on the back. "Merlin!" she said, sounding half worried half amused. "What on Earth's got into you? I've never seen you quite like this before, not even when you had to face Voldemort."

My coughing came to a gradual spluttering halt and I nodded. Getting my breath back at last, I took a couple of deep breaths, and started to tell her everything that Arthur had told me, well, what I could remember of it at least.

Like Arthur had with me, I started by telling her about my Dad surviving until very recently and that Snape was still alive. She was amazed and delighted at that, until a few seconds later I told her that Dad had been insane and was now dead anyway...and then managed to make myself tell her about the slavery bond. At first I stuttered and made even more of a confusion of it than Arthur had, but soon it became a lot easier, and I relaxed enough to even consider telling her about what I'd read in the books Arthur had given me. Luckily I managed to stop myself before making that mistake; if she read those books she would be even more appalled than she was looking now. However, when she did speak, it wasn't at all what I'd expected her to say.

"Poor Professor Snape…and you too Harry, you poor thing! But I can't imagine Professor Snape as a slave. He is so...How will you handle it? ... How will you talk to him even, let alone… Arthur actually said you would have to punish him if he...?"

"Yes exactly! How can I do that? I just can't. I thought maybe I could give or sell him to you?" I said ridiculously, desperately, and without any real hope that she would agree.

Her horrified look was answer enough to that.

"Well then, can you research slavery bonds for me? Find out how to break them I mean. Arthur said it was absolutely unbreakable, but he was probably only going on what other people have told him, so if you could..."

"Yes. Of course I will. There has to be some way. Poor Professor Snape! And you say there are other people who have slaves? And I thought the elf situation was bad enough!... I'll make a start on it right away." She leapt to her feet, rushed across to the fireplace and was about to Floo home, but then stopped and turned to me again.

"Have you told anyone else about this?" At the shake of my head she nodded her approval. "Good. The fewer people who know the better; we should keep it a secret for both your sakes, but particularly for Professor Snape's. With any luck we might be able to free him without anyone knowing that he was ever a slave to begin with. You had better tell Arthur not to tell anyone too."

"I'll tell him, but I don't think he'll tell anyone anyway. He hasn't told Molly. He even asked me not to tell her, so he obviously thinks it is all confidential."

She nodded her approval. "Good. And good luck with Snape this evening. ... You'll be okay. I think you've built it up in your mind into something more awkward than it really will be. After all, from what you've told me, Snape himself seems somehow to have come to terms with being a slave—well, he's had his whole life to do so I suppose—though being yours is probably a bit more than he might have bargained for ..."

Then, obviously realising that she was not making me feel any better, she stopped herself from saying anything more. "Make sure you Fire-call me when he leaves, to let me know how it went." She looked undecided for a second. "Do you want me to be here with you when he visits?"

"Gods no!" The idea appalled me. "I'll be fine, and Snape will feel… well, less humiliated I suppose, if there's only me here."

"Yes, of course. Okay, but don't forget to call me once he's gone. Bye."

After Hermione left I felt annoyed with myself, ashamed really, for virtually falling apart over having to tell her the news. I'd expected her reaction to be as extreme as when she was talking about the iniquities of house-elf slavery, but instead of blaming me she'd been sympathetic and supportive. In any case, she shouldn't blame me as none of this was my fault; even Snape himself would find it hard to blame me for it. I was no longer in his potions class worrying about breathing at the wrong time or some other unforgivable error. Yep, I was his master now so the shoe was on the other foot, nothing to concern myself about at all... Yeah, right.

I began to pace around and dither about, not being able to settle to doing anything.

in which Arthur returns and brings Severus Snape with him. Severus is ill and then presents himself to his master. Arthur becomes even more confused and forgetful. Harry learns more, and something within him awakes. Severus has remembered a great deal and is starting to remember almost everything.

It had been stupid of me to have asked Snape to arrive in the evening, as that meant that I was going to feel restless and anxious all day. After about twenty minutes of staring out the window and twirling my wand around aimlessly, I realised how idiotic I was being—yet again. The whole thing seemed to have turned my brain to mush; there was no reason I couldn't ask Snape to come over earlier.

Feeling a lot better at having made up my mind to actually do something instead of just lying around and worrying about it. . . or no. . . perhaps not…perhaps instead, I should call Hermione again and ask her how she would have handled it if Snape had turned out to be hers. I walked over to the fireplace and was just about to throw in a handful of Floo powder when the flames turned green and Arthur's head appeared in the fire.

"Harry!. . .Oh, you're there. Good, good. I have to ask you; could you let Severus come over now? I'm at his flat now and he's looking terrible. In the short time since I last saw him he has deteriorated badly. From what he is trying to tell me, I think his bond is punishing him for not being with you when you might need him."

"Oh. I was just about to Floo call Hermione and ask her advice again, but I suppose he'd better come now instead."

At what sounded like Professor Snape's voice coming from behind him Arthur turned to look behind himself and then, almost at once, turned back to me, a strained look on his face. "Severus has just reminded me that he told me yesterday to ask you not to tell anyone about all this, not until after you have talked with him anyway. Sorry. I forgot to tell you that, sorry. Er, is it alright for me to come through with him then?"

"Yes, sure, come through now."

Professor Snape came through first. He stumbled when he landed and I grabbed his arm to stop him falling. "Forgive me My Lord," he mumbled. He seemed to be having trouble breathing.

I was taken aback by how extremely ill he looked. Even having had Arthur's warning I'd not been prepared to see him look as bad he did. He was skeletally thin, exhausted to the point of total collapse, his eyes sunken and his face was flushed as if he was running a fever.

"Sit down here Sir, before you fall down," I said as I half led him, half carried him, to the sofa. He was muttering something, but all I caught were a few 'lord's and 'master's.

"What do we do with him Arthur? He should be at St. Mungo's! Do you think a Pepper-Up would work? That's about all I have, and I'm pants at healing spells. Or maybe you can do something?"

"Sit down beside him Harry, and if you could put your arm around him I think that would be good idea. I think all he needs is to have close contact with you"

". . . Oh look at that! He's looking better already! Amazing!"

Indeed he was: the red flush had receded quite a bit, and as I watched it continued to fade away. I had put my arm behind him and along the back of the sofa, but as Arthur's advice eventually filtered through to my brain, I tightened my arm along his back and gripped his far shoulder. The effect was again immediate, and startled me so much that I almost let go of him again.

He straightened up then laid his head back against my arm. "My Lord, I thank you. I shall be quite recovered in a moment and will be able to behave more appropriately. Forgive me I pray."

Professor Snape had always spoken in a formal and rather old fashioned manner, but the way he was speaking now seemed even more antiquated than usual. I was about to try and think of something to say that would lighten up the atmosphere a little, but before I could think of anything Snape had straightened up completely, pulled his robes more closely together in the front and then pulled himself forward and stood up off the sofa.

"For goodness sake man, sit back down!" Arthur sounded concerned, as well he might.

I too was about to urge Severus to sit back down beside me, but before I could say anything more than "Uh?" he had walked three or four paces away from me, and then turned back, sank to his knees and then completely prostrated himself on the floor.

No-one said anything for a long moment. Not sure what to do or even what I felt about this development I looked at Arthur for guidance; he, unlike me, at least seemed to have an inkling as to what was going on.

He shook his head at me slightly and whispered, "Wait a minute Harry. I think having seen you for the first time since the bond transferred to you means he has to prostrate himself and swear allegiance, something like that anyway."

So, I waited. And waited. Snape would say something soon I thought; unless he intended just to lie spread out on the floor in front of me forever. Perhaps he had passed out. . . I stood up and was just about to bend down to check when he raised his head and started to speak.

"My Lord, my Master, I swear eternal Reverence and Obedience. I humbly beg that thou accept me into your service to use as thou desire."

... I'm not sure how best to describe what happened, what I felt at those words ...at that very moment something inside me stirred to life, something only half remembered but already, instantly, over-whelming; I recognised it as the Bond. Without any conscious thoughts whatsoever, I raised my wand and placed the tip of it gently upon his head. "Severus, I, Harry James Potter, thy Lord and thy Master, accept thy vow and thy service. May Magic Herself witness our Bond."

There was a surge of purple light and out of the corner of my eye I saw Arthur fling his hands up to cover his eyes, but my attention was on my possession. He knelt up and settled back on his heels, but kept his head downcast. As I watched, his skin took on a healthy glow and he even seemed to fill out slightly; he did not even look quite so dreadfully thin as he had mere seconds ago.

"You may look at me. It is done." My voice was calm but inside I was in turmoil. Something momentous had happened to me; something wonderful, astonishing, intoxicating, almost fabulous. I did not know what it was, but I wanted it, all of it, and nothing but it. My life had changed. I had changed; every cell in my body had been tossed wildly in the air and had then floated back down to form a completely different pattern.

"At last Master! The years have been long." His eyes flickered towards Arthur and I hastened to reassure him.

"Yes Severus. I understand now; not all of it by any means, no, very little of it in fact, but enough for this."

Arthur was looking a little bewildered. "What language was that Harry? I didn't recognise it. It didn't sound like Parseltongue."

"Language?" I thought I'd been speaking English. "It sounded like English to me Arthur, so I don't know. We could ask Severus… but before we do that —Sorry Arthur...sorry to do this to you old friend... Obliviate."

AN The oath is not original, I stole it from Lanta's wonderful fic 'An Unwilling Ownership.'