His New Master
Severus was freezing. His shins and forearms felt dead with cold. He shivered slightly, even though he tried to repress the trembling with all his will. It didn’t work. Not only was he cold, but his nerves were on edge, out of control. Severus only hoped nobody would notice.
There were about twenty men sitting in a circle in the Main Hall at Malfoy Manor. The circle was disconnected at one place, where a man whom the others called “My Lord“ was sitting. The Lord was sitting on a throne, not on a chair as the others were. Severus knew all of this because his Master brought him to the Hall before his guests arrived.
Severus was shivering constantly now. Normally he didn’t find the submissive kneeling position unpleasant; he had always preferred it to normal kneeling. The body weight was divided between shins and arms, and the limbs didn’t become as stiff. The head was down between the slave’s arms, and Severus often appreciated the imaginary privacy the curtain of his hair gave him. If only the stone floor in the Great Hall wasn’t so cold. If only Severus didn’t have to fear what would happen later tonight.
The meeting had been going about two hours now, and Severus prayed it would be over soon. He was afraid of what would happen afterward, but he couldn’t change the future and he was sick of worrying. He wanted it to be over.
Severus had stopped listening to the speakers quite a while ago, deep in his thoughts. It wasn’t as if the matters discussed concerned him, anyway. Suddenly, Severus was brought out of his thoughts by steps coming nearer to where he was kneeling, about two metres behind his Master’s chair, the appropriate place for a slave he was.
“... For that I suggest you contemplate the possibilities....” Severus heard the Lord saying.
The steps were very near now. Severus held his breath.
“...I command every one of you to bring a viable plan of an attack. It should be a task for no more than five or six people ...”
Two black nicely polished shoes came into Severus’ vision and the slave cowered. What now? Severus thought, his panic raising. A tremor ran through his skinny body. What would the Lord of his Master do to Severus? He was in an ideal position to kick Severus’ head. Or to step on Severus’ fingers. His heart skipped a beat. If his fingers were destroyed, Severus wouldn’t be able to brew. And if he wasn’t able to earn his keep by brewing... Severus carefully didn’t finish his thought.
The rich and confident voice of the Lord continued assigning tasks to his followers, and after a few moments the black shoes went away from Severus’ field of vision. Severus felt like fainting with relief. This was his first contact with his new Master, and Severus had come out of it unharmed.
Master Malfoy had informed Severus about his future when Severus came back from Hogwarts two days ago. His studies were finished, and now he would be given to The Lord, who needed a potions brewer. Tonight he would be offered to his new Master. Severus fervently hoped he wouldn’t be refused. It would bring him heavy punishment, Master Malfoy had threatened. As if Severus could possibly have any influence on the Lord.
Severus wondered what kind of Master the Lord would be. Would he give his slaves a hard time? Did he feed them regularly? Did he punish them if they slipped in their duties and tasks, or did he hurt them just for the pleasure of causing pain? Master Malfoy had hexed and beaten his slaves when angry, just to ease his mood, from time to time. Well, Severus thought, at least in the summer it didn’t happen too often. The last seven years, Severus had been away ten months a year, and he had never had reason to ask what had happened while he was at Hogwarts.
Severus wondered how many slaves the Lord might have. Did he let the stronger slaves bully the weaker ones? Master Malfoy's hand was heavy and he was very demanding, but he never let slaves injure each other. To punish and bring pain was Master’s privilege. It was something Severus was very grateful for. He was unusually clever, which earned him a chance to be educated; however, it brought jealousy and hostility from a majority of the other slaves. But maybe the Lord had all his slaves educated?
Not as if education decreased malice in people. Severus’ years at Hogwarts could have been heaven-sent ones, and they used to be, before the four Gryffindors started picking on him. Severus never could fight back properly. He had to keep a low profile, because as a slave he shouldn’t have been at Hogwarts at all. Severus didn’t know how his Master had persuaded Dumbledore to enrol him, but he was very grateful that he had.
What would Severus’ life be like with his new Master?
Severus tried to calm himself by controlled breathing and meditation. It wouldn’t do to be too nervous to at least try to fulfil the demands of his new Master. When meditation didn’t help, he started to make a mental list of all potion ingredients in alphabetic order to distract himself.
The shuffling of many feet brought Severus back from his momentary peace. The meeting had ended. Severus' heart started to beat wildly. It was here.
“My Lord,” Severus heard his Master saying respectfully over the noise created by the leaving witches and wizards.
“Lucius,” the smooth deep voice answered. “I suppose you didn’t bring the boy here without a purpose.”
“No, my Lord. Please, let me offer you this slave as a potions brewer. He has been educated at Hogwarts, and Professor Slughorn taught him things above the standard school levels at my request.”
“A slave educated at Hogwarts, how unusual,” the Lord said slowly. “You know, Lucius, I prefer house-elves to slaves, as there are fewer troubles with them.”
The Lord paused and Severus caught his breath. The Lord is going to refuse. Oh, gods. Severus dropped his head hopelessly, so low that it touched the stone floor. He was so very damned. Severus felt like crying and he forbade himself to imagine the punishment he would receive soon.
“However,” the Lord continued pensively, “I have to admit the house-elves seem to be near to useless when it comes to brewing.”
“I am sure, my Lord, that Severus will do his best to keep out of trouble.”
Severus, who started to hope again, wished he was allowed to speak. He would promise the Lord he would be the least trouble-making slave around the world. Severus knew he had to stay silent and he also knew the Lord wouldn’t believe him anyway.
Other slaves told Severus that he would be severely punished by his new Master, as all Masters lived in conviction that slaves were rebellious and disobedient. It was the reason why a new Master always punished a new slave, to show him his place. Severus wondered why Masters thought slaves disobedient; Severus himself knew for sure that all slaves he knew tried very hard to fulfil all wishes and tasks of Master Malfoy and so avoid punishment. Severus doubted slaves of other Masters would act differently. Why would they willingly bring their Master’s anger upon them?
“Will he? I guess I may as well try him. Thank you, Lucius, your diligence for our goals won’t stay uncompensated. By the way, does the boy have a wand?”
“Yes, my Lord, it is packed in his trunk with the potion equipment we provided him for school.” Severus could hear a hint of relief in Master Lucius’ voice.
“Good, I will send a house-elf tomorrow. Now, stand up, boy,” the Lord commanded and Severus stood up hurriedly, leaving his head bowed submissively. He nearly flinched when a hand grabbed his upper arm. The hand felt so hot, nearly burning. Severus realised that it was partially because he was nearly frozen, after kneeling on the stone floor for so long with nothing but the barest of coverings to protect his modesty. Severus wished-
“Lucius,” the Lord said as a good-bye and apparated himself and his new slave away.
Severus wasn’t prepared for the apparation and his knees buckled under him. His stiff muscles didn’t help either and Severus fell on his knees heavily. Severus didn’t know what to do, should he stay kneeling or should he stand up? His new Master didn’t order him to kneel, so-
“Get over there,” Severus heard and he managed to raise his eyes in time to see his new Master’s hand to point to the big fireplace just a few steps away.
Severus crawled towards the fireplace, but stopped before a rug lying before the fire. Certainly he wasn’t supposed to kneel on the softly looking fluffy rug. Severus swallowed heavily. He knew he would be punished tonight. Maybe the Lord was trying him? Maybe if Severus was obedient enough, the punishment wouldn’t be so harsh? Severus closed his eyes, kneeling beside the rug and tried to master his anxiety. He mustn’t do any mistake.
Severus heard his Master's steps around the room, a cabinet being opened, a soft clink of a glass, and the sound of a liquid being poured. Then the Lord started to dictate a letter. Severus guessed that his new Master used a dicta-quill, as the man was constantly walking through the room. The steps came nearer suddenly and Severus cowered, feeling the hair on the back on his neck raise. Severus flinched when his new Master's shin connected with his ribs. It wasn't a kick, more like pushing. Severus moved obediently to the side. The leg pushed more and finally Severus ended up on the soft rug. The Lord, who had continued to dictate as if nothing happened, started pacing through the room once again.
Severus was kneeling on the soft rug near to the heat of the fire, and his erratic breathing slowed gradually. He didn't understand his new Master at all and that made him nervous. He tried to figure out why the Lord wanted him on the rug. Maybe- Severus swallowed. He should have realised it at once. His new Master wanted to claim him, as Master Malfoy had done with each of his slaves. Fortunately Master Malfoy was interested in girls, and so he left the male slaves alone after claiming them. Severus had been grateful for that. While he hadn't been hurt seriously, the experience was painful and unpleasant and Severus hadn't had the smallest wish to repeat it. And now- And what if it wouldn't be just one time? Severus gulped.
Even though Severus was warm now, he was shaking again. His new Master was still working and the prolonged agony of worrying and not knowing was getting to Severus. After a while Severus managed to regain his grip over his emotions. He was meditating again. He tried to enjoy the peaceful moment by the fire. Warmness. Softness. No pain. A life consisted of bad moments and good moments. Severus had learned long ago to try to enjoy the good ones and try to survive the bad ones; to remember the first ones and quickly forgot the bad ones.
“Severus!” Severus didn't realise there was silence in the room until his name was called. He rose on his shins and palms, to give his new Master a sign he listened and was ready to fulfil his Master's wishes. “Come here,” the Lord commanded and Severus quickly groveled on his knees towards the chair where his Master was sitting.
*****
Thomas Riddle watched pensively the young boy coming to him on his hands and knees. The real reason why he preferred house-elves to human servants was the unfailing loyalty of the elves. People had their goals and their ambitions, which could be used for your cause, but they could also be used against you by a better strategist. On the other hand, Thomas Riddle needed a reliable potion maker and the status of a slave seemed to be the safest alternative. Clever of Lucius, very clever. Maybe Lucius was too clever for his own good, Thomas thought darkly. He would have to make sure that Malfoy only wanted to ensure his position in the ranks of his Lord and that there was no hidden agenda.
Thomas looked down at the slave at his feet and ordered him: “Raise your head and look in my eyes.”
When the two frightened dark eyes met his own, Thomas hissed: “Legilimens Maximus!”
He was flying through the slave’s memories, feelings and thoughts. He didn’t dwell on the memories of his childhood, not paying much attention to Severus’ painful learning of flawless obedience. ...fear...Malfoy’s angry face...pain...darkness... The boy had evidently been a quick learner, hardly ever making the same mistake twice. A little older Severus... Hogwarts... the wish to prove himself... gratefulness to his Master... fear of failing ... punishment... Thomas slowed his search, watching Severus’ interactions with both professors and students. ...hunted and humiliated by Gryffindors... bullied by Slytherins... overlooked by staff... Soon Thomas banished those memories too, and he concentrated on the last few days. What were Lucius’ orders to his young slave?
Severus still in his Hogwarts uniform kneeling before Lucius in the Main Hall, head deeply bowed, Lucius reading a letter. “Slughorn informed me that your Potions results are well above average and you should be able to serve as an independent brewer.” Lucius said thoughtfully. “It serves my plans well.”
The slave tensed, a slight tremor running through his body.
“Listen carefully, now,” Lucius gripped the boy’s chin rather roughly and forced his head up. “I will offer you to my Master, Lord Voldemort, as a potions brewer. It is important that Lord Voldemort is satisfied with you; don’t even dare to think about disappointing him. Fail and you will wish you were never born. Now, do I have to describe what I will do if you fail? Or maybe I should show you,” he threatened.
“Please, Master,” the terrified slave pleaded fervently, his face twisted in fear, “I will not fail you. Please, Master. Please, I-”
“Silence!” Lucius shouted and interrupted Severus’ frightened babbling. “Be off, boy!”
Severus kissed Lucius’ polished shoe and fled the Main hall.
Thomas Riddle searched Severus’ mind for a bit longer, making sure that Malfoy hadn’t given the slave any secret orders, but he only found some more threats, made by Lucius and even by other slaves. Some of the slaves had provided Severus with a rather detailed description of torture his new Master would deliver. No wonder the boy seemed to be too scared to breathe.
Thomas Riddle released the slave’s mind and the boy fell on the floor, panting and shaking badly. Thomas curled his lip in contempt. Why should he punish a slave who had practically written “I will do whatever you want” on his forehead? What amusement would bring breaking of the already broken pitiful thing? What a waste of time it would be.
Thomas had a clear goal, to rule the whole magic world. It was the challenge he needed as much as air to breathe: the process of scaring enemies and of gaining allies, with carefully weighted threats and promises, bending of proud backbones of old pureblood families, binding them deeper and deeper into his power, under his reign. He liked to break strong minds, not pathetic wrecks, he scowled disdainfully. He stood up, stepped over Severus and went to a cabinet, to get more Scotch.
*****
Severus lay panting on the wooden floor, biting his lower lip to prevent himself from moaning aloud. He knew he should get back into kneeling position, but his body refused to cooperate, his limbs feeling like they were made of jelly. A drop fell off his cheek to the floor, making a soft sound. Severus didn’t know if it was a tear or sweat, probably a mixture of both. It didn’t really matter, but Severus tried to think about anything else than the memories he had just had to relive.
Lucius training him... tasks too hard to be fulfilled by a child... exhaustion and pain... Severus’ pleas... his crying himself into sleep... his first caning... Severus felt another tear flow slowly down his cheek. ...Black and Potter and their hexes... werewolf’s big yellow teeth... Severus shuddered and forced his brain to leave the memories. He felt like breaking down, and he hadn’t even gone through his new Master’s punishment yet. Not for the first time in his life Severus wished for death.
Something fell beside his head. Severus flinched, startled.
“Eat!” heard Severus, and he recognised the thing thrown was a big bar of chocolate.
Only an instinct beaten into him during the long years moved his hand to grab the chocolate. His head was spinning. He didn’t understand anything. Why had he been given a chocolate? Was he really supposed to eat it? Was it a test? Severus swallowed heavily and started to unwrap the chocolate bar, eyeing furtively his new Master, waiting for his reaction. There was none and so Severus started to eat the chocolate. It was the most delicious chocolate Severus ever eaten, not as if that meant much.
His Master stepped over Severus and Severus suddenly realised he was still in the disrespectful position, so he struggled up back on his knees.
“Look in my eyes, Severus!”
Oh no, Severus thought in despair, not again. He put the rest of the chocolate on the floor and obediently raised his eyes full of helpless fear to his new Master, awaiting a new round of painful memories.
His Master chuckled grimly. “No more legilimens tonight, boy.”
Good, Severus closed his eyes in relief. Now there would come punishment and finally it would be over. Severus was so tired. He was supposed to be looking at his Master though, he remembered, and quickly opened his heavy eyelids.
“Tomorrow you will start working. Your days will consist of brewing and studying. You will not disturb me or get in my way. Is that clear?”
Severus nodded, befuddled.
“Answer me!”
“Yes, Master,” Severus answered quickly. He liked the rules. To be left alone with his beloved potions, undisturbed, sounded too good to be true.
“More rules may be added later,” his Master said. “Tonight you will sleep here on the rug. Tomorrow the house-elves will help you to transform an empty room into a potion laboratory where you will spend your days and nights. Tomorrow evening I expect a list of equipment and list of potion ingredients for a reasonably equipped lab. Clear?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Off with you, then.”
What? Severus felt confused. No punishment? Certainly-
“Not if you don’t need one to obey.” Severus heard his Master and his eyes widened. The Master was reading his thoughts? “Well, do you?” His Master continued, his voice laced with something like amusement.
“N- no, Master, please.”
Amusement vanished from his Master’s eyes and he grabbed Severus' chin firmly: “Disobey rules or ruin a potion and you will be in pain sooner than you say ‘quidditch’.”
Severus swallowed.
“Off!” his Master ordered and Severus quickly moved to the rug by the fire. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to lie down in his Master's presence. The dilemma solved itself when his Master left, probably to his bedroom. Severus' puzzlement with his new Master only rose when the rest of the chocolate was tossed to him by a casual flick of a hand.
Severus way lying basked in the heat of the fire. Before he fell asleep, he dared to hope his new life would be fine.
The end
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