Thursday, October 28, 1998 ---- 2:45 p.m.

"Do you expect me to be able to read this, Bole?" Harry asked mockingly, as he leaned over the boy's desk. Bole didn't like him getting so close, Harry knew, so Harry made it a point to hover as much as he pleased. "Five more points from Slytherin."

There was a collective sigh from Bole's half of the room.

Harry almost smiled, but managed, just in time, to hold the expression in. He didn't know what went on in the Slytherin common room in the evenings, but he could easily imagine that life hadn't been easy for Charles Bole, lately. He'd managed to lose twenty-five points during Tuesday's lesson, and was starting off badly today as well.

Well, it served him right. If he wasn't such a Voldemort-loving little prat, showing his contempt for Harry with his every breath, then Harry wouldn't have any reason to take points.

Or assign detentions.

"Start that over and make it legible," added Harry, standing up straight again. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Bole apparently hadn't had enough detentions, Harry thought, because in the next moment the first-year was throwing his quill down onto his desk, hard enough to spray droplets of ink onto his classmates' parchments.

"I won't!" he abruptly shouted, his lower lip thrust out in clear defiance, just in case Harry hadn't heard his words. "I won't write it over! There's nothing wrong with it!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, his whole expression becoming one of mockery. "Is legible a new word for you, Bole? Should I speak more slowly so you can keep up? It'smessy. Is that clear enough, now?"

"It's no messier than his, or hers!" Bole pointed at the seatwork several fellow Slytherins were doing.

"Oh, excellent point," drawled Harry. You could always count on Slytherins to turn on their own. But Bole was going to regret being such a snotrag. Harry would see to it. By the time this class session was over, Bole was going to wish he'd heard of such a thing as loyalty to his own.

Harry began walking between the rows of desks on the Slytherin half of the room, gathering up any parchments containing writing that even vaguely resembled Bole's messy scrawl. "Illegible," he said, shaking his head. "And this one. Oh, and this one, and . . . well, this isn't so very messy, is it?"

Bronagh Shaw looked up hopefully, her blonde curls bobbing a little, at least until Harry began shaking his head again. "Still, you heard Bole, didn't you? Better safe than sorry. You'll have to begin your work over again, Miss Shaw."

She looked crestfallen, but had more sense than Bole, all things considered. "Yes, sir."

By the time Harry was finished, he'd gathered up parchments from all except three of the Slytherins. "So, in the interests of being fair to Bole," he announced, glaring, "that will be five points from Slytherin for each assignment I just had to collect. Everybody who lost a parchment will start the work over. Now."

Bole didn't.

"Oh, and that'll be a week of detention with Mr Filch--that's seven full evenings, in case you aren't aware how long a week is, Bole--for disrespect. Now, unless you'd like to spend the remainder of your life with Mr Filch, and lose Slytherin enough points that they'd just as soon see you at the bottom of the lake--not that they don't feel that way already, come to think of it--get to work!"

Bole finally did, his lips quivering.

Seeing that was like a balm to Harry's soul.

Thursday, October 28, 1998 ---- 9:12 p.m.

"Yes, like that," said Severus, arching his back and gasping as he thrust his hips forward, his cock sinking into Harry's welcoming mouth, his balls lightly slapping against Harry's chin. "Ah . . . yes, yes, oh, your tongue . . ."

Severus came then, shouting, the world around him seeming to spin for a moment, his release was so intense.

Really, Harry had taken to deep-throating him like a niffler to digging. Already, he was so good at it that if not for the slavery bond connecting them, Severus might be concerned that Harry was getting some practice on the side.

Actually, he'd probably be worried about that even if Harry didn't already know how to give marvellous blow jobs. Harry was simply that attractive. If he and Severus had got together in the usual way--not that Severus could really imagine it happening--Severus would be constantly worried about Harry straying.

The idea that Harry couldn't, ever, was a steady source of satisfaction.

As was the whole idea that Harry couldn't even lie to him, not without being found out. Sometimes, Severus thought that the wizards who had constructed Cambiare Podentes had been simply brilliant.

Harry pulled away from his cock, then. "Mmm. You're delicious."

"No, you're delicious," said Severus without thinking.

The moment the words left his mouth, some part of Severus was secretly appalled. He wasn't usually given to sweet nothings, as he'd heard them called.

But with Harry, of course, such statements were hardly nothings. Severus and Harry would have started getting on a good deal sooner had Severus understood that Harry needed to hear that he was attractive. Harry liked hearing it. It made him happy, just as the quarters to treat as his own made him happy.

And a happy Harry was one far, far more likely to be wantonly sexual with Severus. Severus had expected that to be true, hence the vault and all the rest of the things he'd arranged so that Harry could feel as free as possible. Of course, Severus had done all that for other reasons, also. If Harry was depressed and miserable, it would definitely keep them from crossing powers, so it was imperative that Severus find ways to make the slavery bond something bearable.

It was the also the right thing to do, as Albus had said on more than one occasion. Not the best argument to use on Severus, of course. He cared less for what was good and true and noble than for what was most likely to work to his own benefit. But in this case, the right thing to do had dovetailed perfectly with Severus' interests.

Of course he would do whatever it took to put Harry at ease and keep him that way. Severus would even scheme to that end, writing letter after letter to those stubborn goblins, making sure that he and he alone secured the rights to continue to use Harry's vault once Harry gave it up. Severus had known that that particular vault number--James Potter's vault--would mean something special to Harry.

And a Harry who was content with his life, even if it hadn't turned out the way he'd wanted, was the best thing for everyone concerned, including Severus. Especially Severus. Vanquishing the Dark Lord would be but one day in a lifetime, but Harry in his bed, eager, willing, passionate . . . Severus was going to enjoy him for a long, long time.

He was also going to enjoy the fact that Harry couldn't ever, ever stray. It didn't matter how gorgeous Harry's hard body got on account of all that flying, or how compellingly strong his innate magical powers eventually became. Qualities like those: deep-seated powers, a fit physique, eyes so green most witches would kill for them . . . in Harry's case, none of it mattered.

It didn't even matter that after the defeat of the Dark Lord, Harry was destined to become a much-desired commodity, whether it be as lover or spouse or simply a notch on a wand. Witches and wizards alike would most likely throw themselves at him.

But he would remain Severus' alone, no matter the temptations.

And as long as Severus made sure that Harry's life continued to be enjoyable and fulfilling, Harry would continue to be very generous, sexually. And Severus would be the only one on the receiving end of that generosity.

Definitely, his patience with Harry had paid off.

As would more patience, Severus knew.

Harry's current obsession with obedience was a case in point. Severus knew perfectly well that having Harry play the slave wasn't going to do a thing to help their powers cross more fully. How could it, when Severus didn't want a slave, and more particularly, didn't much care for the idea of Harry playing at being one?

But Severus was allowing the fantasy, and even playing along with it, because it was the best thing to do, in the circumstances. Harry wasn't ready to hear that there was only one thing left that would help their powers cross completely.

Only one more thing that Severus wanted from him. With him.

Severus had been dreaming about it for months. Fantasising. Pulling himself off to the idea during most of those long showers he'd taken over the summer. It was what he'd thought of when he'd been with Renard.

Both times.

But Severus wanting it, even wanting it desperately, didn't make any difference. What mattered here was Harry. No matter how carefree and enthusiastic about sex Harry had become lately, he still hadn't completely recovered from what he'd gone through months ago in London. He still couldn't even endure the feeling of Severus' weight atop him.

No question about it, then; Harry wasn't ready to bottom.

And until he was, all the obedience in the world wasn't going to make any difference.

Severus didn't want compliance, after all. He'd had that from Harry back in late July, and it had been no good at all. Not for Severus, who'd had to coax an orgasm from his own reluctant cock, and not for Harry, who'd hated the idea of sex more than ever after asking Severus to all but force him.

And it certainly hadn't done anything to help them cross powers. Only mutually satisfying sex would do that. Only hot, desperate, gasping sex that had both of them climaxing as they called one another's names.

Because, of course, that was the only kind of sex that Severus wanted with Harry.

Which reminded him.

Severus pulled Harry to his feet and held him close for a moment, just enjoying the feel of his warm body, which fit so well into the contours of his own that it was like they were meant for one another. Which was ridiculous, of course.

But Severus still liked the idea of it. More than he should, probably.

"So, what can I do for you, hmm?" he asked, stroking a hand down Harry's bare back. "What sounds good?"

Harry chuckled. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'd much rather have you tell me what you want to do to me. Because, well, you know."

Yes, Severus did know.

And while he never had been one to find obedience for its own sake erotic, there was something distinctly appealing about having Harry ask to be commanded. The trust inherent in the request, perhaps.

Or the desire.

"On your back then, on the bed," said Severus, growling slightly. "Hands behind your neck. Ankles slightly apart."

Normally, he wouldn't attempt to control Harry's position in such detail, but he'd learned over the course of the past week that Harry wanted him to. On a temporary basis only, of course. Just while he was trying to see if overt obedience would help the powers cross.

But while Harry wanted that, Severus was happy to oblige. It kept Harry occupied, at any rate. Kept him from asking questions that Severus would have trouble answering.

Questions about why their powers weren't crossing further. Questions about what Severus really wanted.

Lying down at Harry's side, Severus ghosted a hand across his chest, lingering on the nipple that bore his mark. He leaned in for a kiss, revelling in the thought that his cock had been so recently--and so thoroughly--pleasured in the mouth he was tasting. Then he pulled back and softly whispered another command.

"Say my name."

Harry looked a bit puzzled. "Severus."

Severus smiled down at him. "Now, whenever I do anything you like particularly well, you say my name. Just my name."

"Severus," said Harry, sounding like he was rolling it over his tongue.

"Am I doing something you like, already, then?"

"I can tell you're going to."

"Mmm, quite possibly." Severus shifted down on the bed, still lying alongside Harry, until his face was at cock-level. "Have I mentioned lately what a tasty morsel you've got here?"

"What do I say when you do something I don't like?" asked Harry dryly. "I don't think that morsel is such a good way to describe it."

"A very satisfying mouthful, how's that?"

"Severus," said Harry, thrusting his hips up.

Severus made sure that Harry said very little other than his name, after that. Until finally, Harry gasped it out, moaning it all through his climax.

Severus thought he'd never heard anything quite so gratifying.

Afterwards, curled in bed together, huddled underneath the blankets as the dungeon grew chilly, Severus chuckled. He still didn't think that obedience was the key to crossing their powers, but he had to admit that he'd been enjoying the game immensely.

"Ha," said Harry, turning to face him. "I know what you're thinking."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you're deciding it wouldn't be so bad to have me come down to your office in the middle of the day, after all."

"You really are determined to throw caution to the winds."

"You said you didn't care who knew we were involved."

"I thought you did care."

Harry laughed. "Nobody's going to think we're lovers just because I go to your office once. Besides, don't you think . . . " Harry broke off to yawn. "We might do better on the obedience thing if we didn't go so long apart?"

"All day isn't that long."

Harry wriggled forward to nip at Severus' neck. "Isn't it? Don't you get horny? I do. Sometimes, all day seems like forever." Another nibble. "Don't you want me?"

"All the time," said Severus, his voice deep and husky.

"I'm yours. Just say when and where."

Talk about temptation. "I'll consider it," promised Severus, pulling Harry's head onto his shoulder. "Ready to sleep?"

"Yeah, guess so," said Harry, yawning again. His hand played over Severus' belly and thighs for a few moments, though. "Um, want to go to the Quidditch match with me, then? Sit in the staff section together?"

Severus could have done without sitting through a Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff match. It was bad enough that Albus dragged him in to referee from time to time. That probably wouldn't happen again, not now that Harry was in charge of the Quidditch programme.

Still, Harry had asked him to go. That by itself meant something, Severus thought.

"I'd be delighted," he said, dropping a kiss on Harry's lips.

A wasted kiss; Harry was already asleep.

Perhaps that was better, though. Otherwise, Harry might wonder why Severus had been so pleased to be invited along to a Quidditch match, of all things.

Friday, October 29, 1998 ---- 12:47 p.m.

Harry glanced up, startled, when a seventh-year Slytherin walked up to the Head Table, a scroll in her hand. "Message for you, sir."

Harry took the scroll she was extending, a little surprised. His first thought was that the message was from Dumbledore, but that was daft, of course. If the headmaster had anything to say to him, surely he'd just have come to lunch in the Great Hall.

He was absent this afternoon.

As was Severus.

"Thank you, Miss Hemdrake."

For a moment that lasted too long, she just stared at him. Clearly, she had some interest in his reaction to the scroll. But Harry was hardly going to open it in front of her. After a few seconds, she seemed to understand that. Nodding sharply, she turned on her heel and marched back down the aisle.

Harry felt a pleasant warmth washing through him as soon as he read the scroll. My office, the moment your teaching duties end.

Harry smiled, wishing he didn't have a class of second-years to get through before he could go to Severus.

Friday, October 29, 1998 ---- 2:38 p.m.

"You rang?" Harry was laughing as he closed the door behind him. His mood, already euphoric, only got better when he saw Severus casting a privacy charm. A strong one. "You know, I didn't really think you were going to take me up on my offer. I have to admit, though, it's pretty arousing to get a note like that in the middle of an otherwise boring meal--"

"I didn't call you here for that," interrupted Severus, frowning. "I had a lunch meeting with my house today, Harry. Can you guess the main topic of discussion?"

Harry shrugged as he sat down in the chair Severus was indicating.

"It involved you."

Oh. In that case, Harry probably could guess. "They don't like the Quidditch schedule I drew up?" Harry sighed, wondering if all the teams were complaining. "I know, I know, the first match of the season should have been set for earlier, but I didn't know I was in charge of that, too."

Severus' tone was hard to read, Harry thought. Dry, but with an undercurrent of some darker emotion. "I can't decide if you're really this oblivious or if you know perfectly well what I'm talking about."

That had Harry sitting up a bit straighter. "I can't lie to you, so--"

"Perhaps I should mention that Charles Bole was the principal reason Slytherin asked to speak with me. Though perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the true reason has more to do with you."

Harry's lips twisted. "What a little ferret. He couldn't even come to you himself if he had a problem with me?"

"He was there."

"But too much of a coward to talk with you without all his mates around," sneered Harry. "Not to mention that he should have come to me with his complaints! What does it have to do with you, anyway, unless somebody knows more about us than they're letting on!"

"I'm his Head of House. Whom do you suggest he go to when he's having a serious problem?"

"Serious problem," mocked Harry. "Aren't we dancing around the real issue, Severus? Points from Slytherin! And you said you wouldn't interfere!"

"If points were my concern then I'd have investigated the matter last week, when I first began to notice the sudden decline," said Severus in a heavy voice.

"Oh, so you noticed the decline and didn't investigate it? Right."

The sarcasm didn't go over well.

"Long experience has taught me not to interfere when other teachers muck about with the house standings," said Severus through clenched teeth. "So I don't generally bother, no."

"But I'm the exception, apparently!" retorted Harry. "No surprise there. The minute your house complained, you decided there was no reason why you couldn't forceme to do as you wish. Especially now, when I've even said, over and over, that I know I have to obey you! So fine, all right? You're in charge of me and if you want to abuse your power I can hardly stop you, so there'll be no more points from Slytherin, ever, no matter what they do, but don't come running to me if they all turn into pratty little hellions--oh, wait! They're already that!"

"Are you quite finished?" asked Severus in a voice so frosty that it gave Harry the chills.

"Well, that's up to you, isn't it?" Harry jumped to his feet. "Am I finished?"

"Sit back down!" barked Severus.

"Yes, sir."

Severus abruptly sighed, his hair swaying as he shook his head. "I didn't expect this conversation to be easy, but neither did I expect you to willfully misunderstand me. I do not care about the points. Is that clear?"

Harry snorted. "Sure, it's clear. It's also a fucking lie, but oh, that's right, isn't it? You're allowed to lie to me!"

Severus' lips thinned. "Very well, I do care about the points, but they aren't the reason I summoned you here. You aren't treating young Charles Bole in any manner which could even remotely be termed appropriate. I imagine we both understand why that is. I'd have wanted to discuss your behaviour even if you'd never taken points on his account. If you had limited yourself to assigning detentions, for example."

"So you're taking his side, without asking me what he did to lose points! Nice, Severus. Very professional. Now I feel like a valued member of the school staff, don't I?"

"I'm on your side, Harry," said Severus in a heavy voice. "But you're quite correct that I've heard from the students and not from you. And so? Do you really wish to persuade me that your treatment of Mr Bole has been equitable?"

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "Put like that, no. You've already made up your mind. And I don't care what you say, I know it's the points that really have you acting like there's a bee up your arse--"

"You're dealing so badly with your anger that you're endangering your reputation with students and staff alike, and you think my main concern is points?"

"Look, it's my anger, and I'll deal with it however I like!"

"No, you won't."

"I thought you didn't want to tell me what to do! Changing your tune awfully fast, aren't you?"

Severus leaned forward across his desk, his hands sweeping parchments out of the way. "I don't want to tell you what to do. But I am sworn to give you what you need, and right now, it's pretty damned clear that you need some advice!"

"Oh, like I'd take advice from you about how to treat students." Harry actually laughed, that was so funny. In fact, he was only just realising exactly how ridiculous it was for Severus Snape, of all people, to be lecturing him this way. "You're the most unfair teacher the world's ever seen! And you're no stranger to points taken for no reason at all!"

Severus' eyes narrowed. "I am not the issue, here."

"Sure you are." Harry smirked. "I'm making you the issue. What are you going to do about it, start ordering me around? You claim to hate that."

Severus' face darkened with anger, but Harry didn't back down. He just kept staring at Severus, his expression defiant.

After a moment, Severus drew in a deep breath as if trying to start over. "You compare your behaviour to mine, do you?"

"Yeah," said Harry, sitting back now that he felt more in control of the situation. Severus couldn't stop him from giving nasty little Charles Bole what he deserved. Hell, he couldn't even criticise Harry over it, not unless he wanted to be the world's biggest hypocrite.

"You hated Bole on sight on account of his resemblance to someone who had hurt you," said Severus, sounding cool and methodical, almost like one of the barristers Harry had sometimes seen on television.

Severus' observation was true, of course, but it also kind of missed the point. "Look, you can't expect me to have liked seeing him come here, but it's not as though I launched into him on the first day of class like some teachers I could name. I wasn't gunning for him. But when he started being rude and defiant and refusing to answer questions about how his precious Dark Lord might have, oh, broken a law or two along the way, what did you want me to do? Pat him on the head and give him a sweet?"

"If he's in need of correction, by all means discipline him as you see fit," said Severus coolly. "But you've gone beyond that, here. You've made this child your particular target."

"And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" muttered Harry, under his breath.

Severus' nostrils flared. "Yes, I suppose I would."

"Yeah, you were a right arse and you know it," said Harry, feeling vindicated, somehow.

Severus took that better than Harry would have expected. "My behaviour with you was unreasonable at times, yes."

"At times?"

"Reprehensible, even," continued Severus as though Harry hadn't spoken. "But that's exactly my point. If you can recognize the behaviour as ill-done when it comes from me, you ought to be able to see that your own conduct these past few weeks leaves much to be desired."

"Oh, that's nice." Harry clenched both his fists, then shoved his hands into the folds of his cloak. "Turn it all around on me."

"There is, in fact, nowhere else to turn," said Severus quietly. "Harry . . . I know that this isn't what you want to hear, but it is the truth. The fact that you have suffered under unfair teachers . . . that fact does not give you leave to be an arse, yourself."

"So, it's a case of 'Do as I say, not as I do,' is it?" mocked Harry. "Except, as we both know, I damned well have to do what you say, whatever you say, don't I, now?"

"Stop making Podentes the issue."

Severus' voice was level, but that only made Harry all the more annoyed. "Whatever. It's still a case of 'Do as I say--"

"It's a case of asking you to consider whether you wish to behave like me. To become like me," retorted Severus. "Harry, my concern at the moment isn't Podentes, and it certainly isn't house rank. I'm concerned about you."

"Sure you are."

"You're such a teenager, sometimes."

That was too much for Harry to take. "Listen, I'm not the one who goes about smashing people's assignments and--"

"No, you just confiscate them on account of penmanship, apparently."

Harry clenched his teeth. "I let him start it over, at least. That day in fifth year when I finally got something right, you waited until there was nothing left in my cauldron and class was over and I'd have no choice but to take a zero on the best potion I'd brewed that whole year, hell, that I'd ever brewed, not to put too fine a point on it, and why was that? Because you hassled me if I so much as breathed wrong in your fucking class, and--"

"Trying to make this about me isn't going to change the fact that what you're doing to Bole is going to end up harming you far more than him."

"Oh, it is not--"

"Do you want your life defined by the depth of your bitterness?" asked Severus, his voice both louder and strangely pleading, that time. "Do you want to become a dried husk of a man, so consumed by your need for vengeance that you'll do anything to obtain it? Do you want to become the kind of person who will think nothing of tormenting a small child?"

No, Harry didn't. Even through his anger he could see Severus' point, but somehow, that didn't matter.

"Look, like it or not, Bole deserves it," he said, glaring. "He's a nasty little piece of work, and if you try to defend him again, I just might have to sick up!"

"I haven't been defending him," said Severus, clearly exasperated. "And you're right about Bole. He comes from a family of Death Eaters and shows every sign of intending to follow them into service to the Dark Lord. You have reason to dislike him; I've no doubt of it. But that doesn't make your persecution of him right!"

"Damned sight more right than yours ever was!"

"Because I never had any reason to dislike you?"

"Not any reason to do with me instead of James!"

"As far as I was concerned, you were as detestable in your own way as Bole is in his."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "What did I ever do to you, I'd like to know!"

Severus began counting on his fingers as he spoke. "You talked incessantly during lessons. You acted as though potions couldn't possibly be worth the bother of learning. You repeatedly wasted valuable ingredients, and I thought you were also stealing them. You broke school rules with impunity and wandered about after curfew as though you owned the castle itself. You selfishly sneaked off to Hogsmeade when we had every reason to believe that a madman was out for your blood! You--"

"Nobody at Hogwarts had told me that!" Of course, Arthur Weasley had, but Harry didn't feel like explaining that.

"Yes, you made it clear that you knew better than the adults which rules, if any, should apply to you. Not to mention that you lied straight to my face when I caught you coming back. And we certainly won't pay mind to the fact that, however inadvertently, you helped raise the Dark Lord to a terrible new reign. I couldn't possibly have resented that! It's not as though it put my life in any danger or exposed me to the mercies of a man who has none--"

"All right, all right, I get it," shouted Harry. He couldn't listen to any more of that. "You hate me, fine!"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"I was a pratty little snotrag myself, constantly getting people killed, and you probably should have assigned me twice as many detentions!"

"Harry--"

"Though you forgot to mention that all that crap came later. You didn't have one valid reason to make fun of me and call me a celebrity on my first class with you," said Harry in a nasty voice. "At least I waited until Bole really did deserve a dressing down. But not you. Oh, no. You can do as you please! But not me. After all, I'm just a slave! Your slave!"

"Stop changing the subject!"

Harry abruptly shoved his chair back and stood up. "But that is the subject. The only one that matters, since you have me by the balls, here. Literally. If I don't obey you, people will die! So, fine. Anything you want, Severus. I'll treat Charles Bole like he can do no wrong, and while I'm at it, I'll make sure Slytherin gets all the emeralds your little heart desires. Anything else, hmm? Would you like me to suck your cock straight down my throat before I go?"

Severus' lips had gone white. For a long moment, he said nothing at all, and then he spoke in a low, harsh voice. "I don't deserve that."

Harry curled a lip. "You know what? You're right. You don't."

With that, Harry was stalking away, robes whirling, and slamming the Potions Office door on his way out.