Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all public characters, and the world of Harry Potter. There is no intention to violate copyright or make money.

Series Summary: The characters support one another through a magical enslavement curse. The first part deals with the bond and how they work around it; the second delves into their prophesied roles. Potter is a good and well-intentioned master who makes many mistakes. Trust doesn't come easy, and Snape has anger issues. Punishment and humiliation play a part, but those scenes focus on the angst and comfort between the main characters.

Story Perspective: Severus Snape

The Enslavement

Voldemort discovered a potion he wished to use on his Death Eaters. Why did he not consult me about the new brew? Did he find a replacement? Unnerving thoughts made it difficult to focus on the meeting, and Antonin's screams caused issues with my occlumency. The cruciatus could mean anything because Voldemort needed little reason to cast it. The Dark Lord turned to his right and acknowledged his lieutenant with a slight nod. He demanded submission from everyone, but more from those he left in charge. We had to grovel. I fell to my knees and reverently kissed the hem of his filthy robes. The disgusting action pleased him and he rewarded me with a gentle pat on my head. Was I pet? Yes, he would think so.

"Sseverus Ssnape, my most faithful servant." Bellatrix would protest his accolades, but she had enough sanity to hold her tongue. Voldemort pressed the glass vial to my lips, and I drank without hesitation. None wished to earn his anger. The vile concoction did nothing and I could not discover its purpose. A sharp gaze from the Dark Lord told me his intention, and I prepared for a Legilimency attack. Was this part of an investigation? Our gazes met and Voldemort passed my mental barriers without resistance. Panic met his efforts and encouraged the reptile to delve further into my mind. How did he nullify my occlumency? Voldemort missed Potter's presence, but I sensed him. Was the arrogant dunderhead watching the meeting?

Crimson orbs narrowed and serpentine lips twisted into an angered snarl. "Sseverus Ssnape is a disloyal spy." Bellatrix's pleasurable squeals rose above others and excitement thrummed through the Death Eaters. The sadistic buffoons lived for torture, and they wished to enjoy my punishment. Malfoy glanced at me with a malicious grin and drew his wand; other Death Eaters followed. Their eagerness did not go unnoticed.

Their reactions pleased the insane lord, and he motioned for silence. "The traitor has valuable information about Harry Potter. Perhaps, we can use this to our advantage." Death would not come quick, and his announcement displeased those who wished to cause my screams. "Do not fear, my dear Severus, your talents and knowledge will continue to serve. Trust is no longer an issue." The Boy-Who-Lived saw everything through Voldemort's eyes; he was the last person I wished to witness my downfall. Merlin, why couldn't anything be easy?

A malevolent grin spread across his face and crimson eyes promised unending pain. "Sslytherin left ancient texts in his secret chamber. They will serve our noble cause and allow us to retake the ministry. Sseverus, you will become the first of my bonded slaves." The ministry deemed those spells illegal, and they destroyed all known copies. "You will become the trusted servant you always pretended." Voldemort cast the spell before I could escape. 'Sclavus sempiternus mortem obire'

Powerful magic welled within my chest and threw me to the ground. My forehead touched the hardened soil, and I laid flat on my stomach before the vile creature. Manic cackling pierced the night air and my life was no longer mine. I writhed desperately on the filthy ground and an ethereal glow enshrouded my body.

"It is done," Voldemort said with the confidence of one who never failed. "Severus, tell me about Harry Potter." I stared dumbly at him and felt no compulsion to obey his command.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Was that Potter? My gaze shifted to the new arrivals. Potter stood amidst a large group comprising students and order members. They answered the Dark Lord's challenge, and the battle began. None could tell who cast the first spell but many would die tonight.

Voldemort strode towards The Boy-who-Lived and bid me to fight, but I could not move.

Potter noticed me lying prostrate between them and thrust his arm to the side, "Move it, Snape!" How dare that impudent boy tell me what to do? The arrogant prat was no better than his father, and I ignored his order. A painful sensation filled my head, and I assumed it came from the Dark Lord. An overpowering compulsion forced me to rise and move away from the confrontation. The pain vanished.

Voldemort cast 'Avada Kedavra.' Potter ducked at the last possible second and green light zipped past his left ear. The Dark Lord growled in frustration and cast a binding curse. A lucky stumble allowed the boy to avoid it; graceful as always, Potter.

Voldemort stopped playing and rapidly cast 'Avada Kedavra.' Harry weaved to avoid them but one pierced his muggle jacket. It left a large hole in the garment, and it briefly distracted Potter. Obviously, the spell had missed. Potter shouted an unknown incantation and a shimmering disc appeared before him.

The youth charged the Dark Lord who cast another 'Avada Kedavra.' It hit the illuminated disc and bounced towards Nagini. She fell with a heavy thump and a dark shadow rose from her scaled corpse. A shrill scream announced its death, and Voldemort turned to Potter with an angered snarl. "You will die!"

The dunderhead shouted his next spell, and Voldemort avoided it with ease. I warned Potter about verbal casting, but the ignoramus knew better. The Dark Lord scowled at his impudent challenger and berated him. "Foolish boy, you need much more practice if you wish to best me." Magic compelled me to protect the master, and I struggled against it. I would not help Voldemort. The bond took control and raised my wand. 'Petrificus Totalus' passed my lips, and I envisioned it hitting Voldemort instead of Potter.

Everything happened in slow motion. Voldemort sent a green bolt at Potter. The boy thrust his energy disc forward and reflected the spell back at its caster. My hex caused the Dark Lord to become petrified, and he could not avoid the rebounded curse. Green light slammed into the Dark Lord and destroyed him. Ashes were all that remained.

The Death Eaters ran from their fallen leader and fled into the forest. An unexpected silence fell across the battlefield, and people focused their attention on Potter. His angered glare caused my stomach to flutter, and I despised the fearful reaction. The boy thrust his wand into my neck, and I tried to snatch it. A sudden pain seared through my veins and forced me to the ground. I writhed in the dirt with blood pouring from my nose and my head ready to explode. What did Potter do? Did he use dark magic? The boy retrieved an item from the ashes and glared at me. "Get the greasy git back to the Burrow. I want answers."

Intense pain kept my eyes closed, and I no longer cared about my bloody nose. Arthur Weasley grabbed my left arm and held me in a firm embrace. Apparition increased the pain, and it became my only focus. Did Potter study the dark arts?

"He has blood pouring from his mouth and nose." Arthur showed his mastery at stating the obvious. My head was about to explode and the dunderheads wished to prattle. Why wouldn't the pain go away?

Hands clasped around my temples and Potter jerked my head in the upwards direction. "Let me view your traitorous thoughts!" The boy could see through Voldemort's eyes, but not his Legilimency. The pain vanished at Potter's touch and a powerful electric current passed from me into him. An illuminated shield surrounded us. None but me understood its significance; magic formed our bound and enslaved me to the obnoxious prat.

Potter used Legilimency, and the bond lowered my mental protections. Occlumency would never work against the master. Pain surged through my brain when I tried to restore the barriers, but it left when I relented. The arrogant prat plunged through my memories without calling upon the ones he wanted. Did he know how to find them? Frustration overwhelmed his patience, and I had my answer. "We need a pensieve."

Arthur left to retrieve one from the ministry, and the imbecilic dunderheads stared at me with angered glares. None thought to remove my wand. Long potion stained fingers brushed against the polished ebony, and wordless casting removed the restraints. 'Periculum' sent a close ranged flare into the room and created a needed distraction. I leapt from the chair and pushed past Potter to make my escape, but the bond had other plans. Intense pain forced me to the floor, and I fell at the feet of my Master. He placed a hand on my forehead and the pain vanished. "Mr. Potter..." a dull ache returned and caused a painful wince. Was it punishment? "Potter,.." The increased ache confirmed it. Pain-be-damned, I would not call him master! "I did not betray you."

Potter inhaled deeply and showed his respiratory prowess. It did nothing for his intellect. "Professor Snape," he said, and I winced as a sharp ache thundered inside my head. His touch removed the pain. "Sir," A shudder returned his palm to my temple and earned a sympathetic glance. "Look at me." His gaze met mine, and he used Legilimency. What more did he need to know? His cruelty surpassed earlier expectations. The youth stayed in my mind while he addressed me with respectful titles. My discomfort delighted him! The boy grew tired of his new game and berated me with derogatory names. The bond never retaliated.

Potter pushed a chair into the centre of the room. "Snape, sit down and stay there." He deserved a snappy retort for the cocky attitude, but the bond ignored my opinion. It compelled me to rise from the floor and sit on the bloody chair. Did I need his permission to leave?

Granger gasped at my actions and turned her attention to Potter. "Why did he become your slave?" Eyes closed of their own volition and anger reddened my cheeks. How was that any of her business? Did the know-it-all study magical slavery when she tried to free the house-elves? Merlin help her if she compared me to one of them!

The room sat in stunned silence while everyone stared at the traitorous Death Eater turned slave. Did my plight entertain them? Arthur returned with a silver pensieve and set it on the table. "The ministry wishes to record our memories for future historians." He glanced at Potter with a joyous smile and asked, "Was that your intention when you asked for a pensieve?"

The youth shook his head and motioned to the evil Death Eater stuck to a chair in the middle of the room. "The pensieve is for Snape. We need to know why he killed Dumbledore."

"No bloody way!" The angered response thundered throughout the room and a warm tingling sensation danced behind my eyes. It was more annoying than painful.

Potter stepped from the table and frowned at his latest acquisition. The mindless sycophants followed his every whim, but I was not one of them. The master tried to appease with a nervous smile, but his efforts met with a contemptuous glare. "Snape, we need your memories. Place them in the pensieve or I'll take them myself. Include everything from both wars." They held more than meetings and official discussions. The ignorant dunderhead asked too much.

Would they allow him to rape my mind? A quick observation suggested they would. What choice did I have? My fingers closed around the proffered wand, and I gathered the requested memories. Former allies leaned into the pensieve and eagerly invaded my privacy. Potter exposed my mind to their ridicule, and I felt naked. Nothing could prepare me for the mortification of having them view my personal thoughts. McGonagall arrived by floo shortly after it started, and she joined the others.

The Order of the Phoenix learned of Dumbledore's impending death, and his plans to keep Draco innocent. They observed a young Snape relay the prophecy to Voldemort. Tears shed for Lilly were no longer private, and Potter watched while I grieved for his mother. My tongue and inner cheek bled while I fought to keep my composure. Did they cheer when Voldemort tortured me for failure? Those memories outnumbered the rest. Azkaban seemed preferable to this.

Potter softened his voice to offer comfort. "Severus, look at me." It was not my intention. A painful headache rewarded my disobedience, and it vanished when I obeyed the tyrannical prat. I bet he enjoyed seeing the downfall of his most hated professor! "Snape, you're a war hero. Your body bind on Voldemort made little sense, but now I understand. You were always on our side, and I couldn't have taken him without you." At least he noticed. "Why did you become my slave, instead of Voldemort's?"

Ignorant dunderheads glanced between Potter and me with shocked expressions. Granger told them about our slavery, but their minimal comprehension failed them. Potter's understanding was the true mystery. Did he gain knowledge from the bond? Magic compelled me to answer the master, but I had none to give. What could I tell him? "I do not know." A small ache formed behind my eyes and continued to grow. It ended when I said, "Master." Death could not come soon enough. I glanced around the room to see many watery eyes and noticed tears streaming down the cheeks of Molly and Granger. Uninvited bodies pressed into my personal space and surrounded me with their affections. The unnerving experience would give me nightmares.

The atmosphere grew celebratory, and people offered comfort through hugs. Molly and Arthur welcomed me to the family despite my protest. Why would I wish to become a Weasley? Loud popping noises interrupted the horrific affair and five aurors entered with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Potter and his band of merry misfits placed themselves between the aurors and me, but their effort proved futile. Shacklebolt explained the situation. "The Death Eater is under arrest."

I glared venomously at the man. "You see me as a number to fill your quota, do you? How many Death Eaters can you arrest in one night? Does the truth even mater, I wonder?" Potter glared at me with an unspoken command, and the bond forced my silence. My gaze fell to the floor and I could no longer look at the aurors. Why would Potter force my submission? He was worse than his father!

It was Arthur who spoke in an authoritative voice, "Minister Shacklebolt, you must see the evidence. Severus Snape is a war hero, and he remained a loyal spy to the 'Order.' Why would Weasley interfere? Gryffindors loved to watch Slytherin's suffer. Arthur directed Shacklebolt to the pensieve and invited everyone to invade my private memories. Potter would not die soon enough. Pain shot through my mind and dissipated at once. Was it a warning? My thoughts would slay me.

Shacklebolt gave me a warm smile and began a slow applause. The mindless sheep joined a few seconds later. They wished to show their support by making me deaf. "The world will know of your heroism, Professor Snape," said the newly appointed minister. "You will never again fear the taint of a Death Eater. Wizards and Witches will praise you and Harry as the Slayers of Voldemort." The aurors left before their minister, but he too had to leave. They would spend the night searching for missing Death Eaters.

The dunderheaded Gryffindor turned to McGonagall and asked, "Professor, do you remember anything about slavery? Why does the bond keep attacking him?"

"Mr. Potter, they outlawed slavery well before I entered this world." His question did not please McGonagall. "Professor Snape studies the dark arts. Perhaps, he may know the answers you seek."

A dull ache warned of having offended the master and I dreaded what it would do when Potter learned my secrets. The order of the mindless idiots stared at me and waited for an answer. Would it hurt them to open a book? "The Dark Lord discovered the spell in an ancient text left by Slytherin. He found it in the Chamber of Secrets and wished to enslave magical Britain. I was his first." None wished to hear the truth, and many excused themselves to tend other matters.

That night I discovered another mutation which proved more horrendous than the slavery itself. I waved my wand over the bed, and nothing happened. It swished over my clothes, and they remained in place. The wand refused to light. Did I lose my magic when the curse solidified our bond?

A/N: Ch. 1-29, & 1-11 are being edited for grammar, dialogue tags, and other annoyances. The characters will become much less curious. The story will resume once I've fixed those chapters. (05/22/2017)