Hogsmeade, Circa 1826

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“I know what you’re thinking,” Harry said as soon as the door to their room was closed. “We’re not doing it!”

“Master-“ Severus began.

“No. We’ll go to Hogwarts as planned. We’ll find a way without the Time Jumper.”

“But Master-“

“No, Severus. Now drop it! I don’t want you to say another word about the contest or the Time Jumper.” Harry gave Severus a stern look that was met with an icy glare.

Severus bit his tongue knowing the cold steel collar around his neck would tighten if he said anything. He dropped to his knees, his onyx eyes burrowing into Harry’s face.

“Shall I continue to service you, Master?” he asked with disdain. “Or would you prefer to fuck me? Shall I disrobe and present myself for your enjoyment?”

“Stop it, Severus!” Harry growled, his face flush with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean for that to happen and you know it! And we’re not entering the contest!” Harry yelled, knowing full well what Severus was thinking, though he hadn’t said anything about it. “You heard what Wulfric said! Slaves have died trying to win! And the Pain test! God! I can’t put you through that! I’ve seen you hurt before and I will NOT be the cause of such pain!”

Harry was in tears by the time he paused for a breath. He knew the strange artifact was their best hope for getting home, but couldn’t stand the thought of putting his proud, reserved Potions Professor through such pain and humiliation. Too many times already he had been witness to such things through his connection with Voldemort.

Severus Snape had always remained in the background, never drawing attention to himself, never stepping into the spotlight. Their relationship had always been strained, each having built walls around themselves, but over the past year they had learned to work together. He had come to greatly respect the harsh man. For all his faults and cold demeanor, Severus had stayed true to himself and his beliefs. Severus was also the one person Harry could count on to always treat him as Harry Potter and not ‘The Boy Who Lived’.

Severus continued to glare at Harry, though some of the heat had dissipated with Harry’s tears. He hated his lack of control over any situation and this one was so much worse than any he had dealt with over the last several years.

When he was a child, it was his father who was in control of everything. When he started school, he thought he was in control, but quickly realized that it was Albus Dumbledore who was in charge of every aspect of his school life. When he left school, he again thought he was in command of his own life, but was set straight with a strike of Lucius Malfoy’s cane.

He later returned to Hogwarts with his head hung down in shame and gave control back to Albus. Over the years, he gained a certain amount of control over his life and found that he could usually direct just about any situation that didn’t involve Albus or the Dark Lord. He learned how to manipulate situations and people to get what he wanted, even if it wasn’t for his own benefit. It gave him the feeling of control that had been lacking in his life. He vowed to never completely loose control again. That vow was broken the moment he awoke in this time with the collar around his throat.

“Maybe…” Harry muttered as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Maybe we could steal it? If we can find out where they’re keeping it…” Harry’s voice trailed off as he began pacing the room, ignoring the glare from Severus.

“Master,” Severus said softly, the tone of his voice conveying his thoughts on the likeliness of that plan succeeding.

Harry looked at him sitting on the dusty floor, his hands folded neatly in his lap, waiting for instructions. Severus took up the very position Harry had seen from other slaves in the dining room below them. It seemed so natural to Severus and made Harry wonder just how it was Severus knew so much about slaves. Some of what Severus had done in the last few days, falling to his knees as soon as they were in private, walking two steps behind, seemed like second nature to the older wizard. There was also the fact that Severus was controlling his temper, and his tongue, far better than he ever had at school. It seemed to him that Severus was falling into his role a little too easily.

“Who was your first ‘Master’?” Harry asked gently. If he was going to put Severus through the torment of the games, he needed to know the truth about his past.

Severus suppressed a growl, his jaw clenched tightly. He looked away from Harry for the first time since they returned to their room.

“Tell me, Severus. I won’t agree to the games until you tell me the truth.”

“My father,” Severus whispered harshly through gritted teeth, his heart racing as the memories he had tried to burn from his mind resurfaced. He silently cursed Harry for forcing the memories and for weakening his control once again. He fought against the wave of emotions and struggled to remain calm.

Harry barely heard the softly spoken words, but saw the emotions chasing across Severus’ normally serene face. Harry sighed heavily, then knelt down on the floor in front of Severus.

“I don’t want to be like every other man in your life, Severus,” he said quietly, sadness clear in his voice.

Severus looked up sharply at him. As he looked into Harry’s bright green eyes, his face softened and he gave a rare, genuine smile.

“There’s little chance of that,” he whispered.

Harry sighed again, this time with relief, and smiled back at his teacher. He nodded as he stood up and returned to the little desk. He began to unroll the parchment Jonah had given him.

“Well then, lets see what we’re getting ourselves into.” Harry cleared his throat and began to read aloud.

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