Chapter 14

The months flew past without much of note happening. Severus' reverence towards Harry deepened with each passing day, until the man could no longer recall how it felt being under the Dark Lord's tyrannical rule.

It was almost soul-freeing, in a way that the man had never felt before.

Of course, he still harboured suspicions towards Quirrell – he suspected that the man was an emissary of the Dark Lord that had previously been hidden.

With the presence of Harry, who was now his Lord, he couldn't be faulted for coming to the conclusion that the Dark Lord would make a move in this year.

Seeing how the monster had spiralled into insanity over the years left Severus certain of that. The Dark Lord was not dead by any means. He was still alive somewhere, which meant that he was now a threat to his Lord.

Not having a body was sure to have degraded whatever sanity he had left. There had been no movements within the Death Eaters, but that didn't count for anything.

And Severus… would not let that stand.

It wasn't only his promise to himself to keep Lily's son alive and well, but also as a form of the deepest reverence and worship for the boy himself.

Perhaps it was depraved, coming to so depend on the tantalizing feel of his Lord's magic to keep him from lashing out, but Severus did not care in the slightest.

Occlumency was one thing, but his Lord's magic was another thing altogether.

Over this past year, Severus had seen his Lord weave – dare he say it – magic over the other first years, both in his house and those outside it.

To the outside, Harry Potter appeared like the perfect Hufflepuff. He made friends everywhere, and he inspired loyalty in all of them.

But none were more fanatic than his own house. He was like the light to them, and they all turned to him however subconsciously.

It made Severus feel a perplexing mixture of emotions – mainly amusement and something like horror.

It seemed to come as naturally as breathing to his Lord. Whether it was his personal charisma, his magic, or a mixture of the two, Severus could hardly see Dumbledore exerting any of his influence over that batch of first years.

Severus' lip curled a little at the thought. The damn old man had been more and more stressed lately, and he'd been consuming more lemon drops than usual.

It was the artful way that Harry weaved his web, drawing everyone in tightly without letting them go.

Outside of Hufflepuff, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini had been drawn in as well, and to a lesser extent, the rest of the houses.

Harry just appeared so kind and sweet that they all tripped over themselves just to help him to something.

Even the teachers had all been drawn in, gushing about how the boy was such an absolute delight.

Severus put his thoughts aside for once as he strode down the hallway. He was to meet his Lord again for their weekly meetup.

As always, Severus would try to convince his Lord that he should not get so close to Quirrell, but he had a feeling that it would fall on deaf ears yet again.

As he drew closer to his quarters, Severus could already feel his heartbeat quickening in anticipation.

It was almost like an addiction at this point, and he was not quite certain that he would be able to survive going off it, which further cemented his loyalty. His Lord served Lady Magic herself, and his magic was his own, but also an extension of Lady Magic.

"Lily," he said to the painting. There were the faintest twinges in his heart, the wound still there even after so many years, but it was soothed upon knowing that he had sworn loyalty to her son, his Lord.

The painting swung open, admitting him inside, and Severus stepped into his quarters.

The moment his foot passed through the doorway a tremor went through his body as he was caressed with that sinfully dark magic – so dark that it called out to his very soul.

As the door shut behind him, Severus strode forward to see his Lord sitting comfortably on his couch with a book in hand.

Before Harry could say anything, Severus dropped to his knees, his head gently resting on Harry's knee.

Harry's lips curled into a smile, and the magic in the room became thicker, causing Severus to shiver. He didn't even bother hiding any of his reactions from his Lord, wanting transparency in this… relationship of theirs.

A transparency that he was not afforded in his two previous masters.

As they said, third times the charm.

Harry's magic brushed his core, just as the boy brushed strands of his hair gently.

Something inside Severus relaxed as his masks fell to his feet.

"My Lord," Severus said, his voice very carefully not slurring. His tone contained the reverence he felt for this small slip of a boy.

His Lord had already told him that he did not need to do as such. He did not need to prove his loyalty every time they met in private, but Severus was more than willing to do so.

Perhaps it was because before the Dark Lord, his previous master, he had to crawl and grovel, kissing the hems of his robes, and in Dumbledore, he had to grovel in another way – subservience to his whims and orders. But in Harry, he did not need to do so. He was not forced to do it. Instead, it came very naturally.

Almost too naturally, but at this point, Severus really wasn't willing to question it any further. He was tired.

"Severus," Harry replied, a dark smile hanging on his lips. "I do wonder what it is that has you so up in arms."

"It's Quirrell, my Lord," Severus said, voicing his worries. "He's been making suspicious movements. Especially in the recent times. I don't know what's happened to him, but I am worried about your safety."

Harry just listened with the same dark smirk on his lips, as if he was enjoying a private joke that no one but himself knew about.

Severus eventually sat up next to Harry on the couch, finished with his reporting.

Harry nodded. "Good. Don't worry about Quirrell. I know you think he is working for the Dark Lord, but…" The smile on Harry's lips widened, and there was a spark of possessiveness in those green eyes.

It startled Severus, but it was quickly smoothened down. It seemed like his Lord would have another loyal retainer under him soon enough.

"But…" Harry continued, his hand stroking the book under his fingertips affectionately. "He belongs to me. Or, at least, a part of him definitely belongs to me."

The words that he spoke were so dark that they almost dripped with it, and it caused goosebumps to form on Severus' arm. It was sinful. So sinful that Severus knew that if Harry ever asked him to do something with that voice of his, he would do it without any questions asked.

Quirrell would never know what hit him.

Harry laughed, and the magic in the room roiled and thickened, alive.

"He just doesn't know it yet."