http://www.walkingtheplank.org/archive/viewstory.php?sid=1985&warning=4
Cambiare Podentes: Madurare
by Jordan Grant
Summary: Now that Harry has been bound in slavery, how will he and Severus mature the spell to full completion? And how will they deal with the consequences of irrevocable enslavement? The second volume and conclusion to Cambiare Podentes: Invocare.
Chapter 1
Thursday, June 18, 1998 ---- 9:35 a.m.
Strange how . . . normal it all seemed, Harry thought as he hunted through the wardrobe for something to wear. He'd expected things to be a lot more awkward. But they weren't. After their brief conversation earlier, Severus had rolled out of bed and fished something out of a drawer in the night table. It turned out to be a new pair of glasses, resembling the pair Harry had destroyed just before the invocation. Harry slipped them on in time to see Severus summoning a couple of towelling robes. Severus didn't put his on, though. He merely slung it over an arm as he remarked that he needed a shower. He'd see Harry at breakfast, he said.
And that was that. The man had strolled into his bathroom, his bare buttocks rippling as he walked. Harry couldn't help but stare. It was hard for him to imagine being so casually unconcerned about nudity. He was still a little bit embarrassed to have Severus look at him, even if the Dragon's Happy had made him forget about that for a while.
Severus, in contrast, was so far from embarrassed that he hadn't even shut the bathroom door! Well, not all the way.
Harry had stared at that door, not sure what to make of it. Was it an invitation? Or was it just Severus wanting Harry to understand that he could come in if he wished? Or . . . maybe it was just an oversight.
Though Severus really didn't seem the type to make a lot of those.
Well, he hadn't said that Harry had to go shower with him, had he? He'd left it up to Harry to do as he liked, apparently.
So Harry had pulled on the robe Severus had left lying on the bed, and had gone off to his own rooms . . . no, no, the upstairs rooms, he quickly corrected himself, and had his shower alone.
As the warm water sprayed over him, he couldn't help but finger the metal half-disc that now hung beneath his left nipple. A slight tug on it told him that his nipple still had some healing to do. It wasn't precisely painful. The sensation was more like soreness, even when Harry twisted the disc a little bit, this way and that. He wasn't sure why he had a compulsion to touch the thing. Maybe to see that it really wouldn't come off. Or maybe, some part of him knew that it wouldn't. Which made it a part of him, didn't it . . .
That idea was so uncomfortable that Harry tried his best not to touch the ring again, or even look at it as he lathered himself and washed his hair. Really, he tried not to even think about it. He went back to considering the fact that Severus had arranged for him to have plenty of privacy, right down to rooms for his use, even though they did have to live together.
It was actually a pretty good arrangement, Harry thought as he pulled on a pair of dark blue denims and a T-shirt the same colour. He and Severus would sleep in the same bed, of course, but in the mornings Harry could come up here to get dressed and such. They wouldn't be stepping all over each other. So that was good . . .
What wasn't so good was the fact that Severus was going to want them to do a lot more than sleep in that bed downstairs. And Harry was supposed to want that, too. Severus actually had every reason to expect him to welcome it, considering how well they'd been getting on in those last few days before he'd gone to London.
His fingers started trembling so much that he could barely tie the laces on his trainers.
It'll be all right, he told himself. It's Severus, this time. He won't hurt you.
The strange part of that was that while Harry knew it was true, it didn't matter. Not one bit. He felt absolutely sick to his stomach at the thought of sex, even with Severus. He'd managed to put the feeling off--more or less--before the invocation, but that was probably because he'd known that the sex was going to get put off, too. Severus had said they would abstain.
But that phase was over now. They'd invoked, and Harry was officially Severus' slave, and the next important thing they had to do was transfer Vol . . . no, no, the Dark Lord's power from Severus to Harry. And that was going to require not just sex, but actual penetration.
Harry clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head. He couldn't. He knew he couldn't bear it. Not for one second, not after what Bole and Talmadge had done less than a week ago. He needed more time, right? Hell, anybody would. But Harry was out of time!
Or . . . maybe not. When it came to sexual matters, Severus really was pretty considerate. Harry would have to be an idiot not to have realised that much. And Harry had just come four times the night before. He was astonished just thinking about it. Three times in the ritual bath . . . you'd have thought that would be enough, right? But no, Harry had for some reason climaxed wildly just from Severus kissing him, and what was worse, he'd done it with Dumbledore and Mr Weasley both watching.
But anyway, he'd come enough the night before that it would be a bit much to expect him to want sex tonight, right? Right? Actually, Harry wasn't sure if Severus would see things that way, but he did think that he could sell the other man on the idea. So that would take care of tonight, at least. And tomorrow, he could say he felt a bit ill.
An excuse like that wouldn't wash, not one night after another, but it ought to work at least once.
So that would buy him two nights.
After that, he'd have to think of something else. But soon . . . very soon, Harry knew . . . he'd have to find a way to endure it, instead of get out of it. It wasn't like he could put the sex off forever. If he could stop time so he never turned nineteen, maybe. But no, not even then. It wasn't just a case of getting that Sex Magic transferred from Severus to himself so he wouldn't die on his birthday. It was also the matter of crossing their powers.
Yeah, so one way or another, Harry knew he had to get over this reluctance to be touched like that.
But he didn't have to do it right away. Not as long as he could put Severus off with one excuse or another.
So, tonight he'd be tired, and tomorrow he'd feel a bit under the weather, and the night after that, maybe he could take some sleeping potion or something.
Harry nodded to himself. As plans went, these ideas weren't so brilliant. He knew that. But they were all he had.
~
Thursday, June 18, 1998 ---- 9:50 a.m.
Severus was waiting breakfast for him, which really surprised Harry, though he had a feeling it probably shouldn't.
"Anything in particular you fancy this morning?"
Harry shook his head. He was determined not to worry about what the nights ahead might bring, but as much as he tried, he really couldn't help it. And as a result, he wasn't so hungry, though he knew better than to wallow in apathy. He'd eat, all right. He just didn't much care what.
"I think something . . . celebratory is in order," murmured Severus. "So, perhaps . . ."
He began ordering, but Harry paid so little attention that he started a bit when his plate of food arrived. Belgian waffles with three kinds of fruit and mounds of whipped cream. Severus' own portion, Harry noticed, lacked the cream, though it did have what looked like a fine dusting of sugar.
"Looks good," said Harry, tucking in as if he really did have an appetite. He didn't want Severus asking questions. Though if he did, Harry could always just say he was bothered by the fact that he'd killed someone. He was bothered, truth to tell. But it took a real back seat to everything else he had on his mind.
It wasn't until he went to take a drink that he noticed Severus had ordered champagne. That struck Harry as distinctly weird. "Isn't it a little early in the day?" he asked, tapping the tall glass flute with a fingernail.
Severus leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes somehow hooded. For just one second, Harry could have sworn that Severus was nervous and trying not to show it. But that idea was plainly ridiculous, so Harry dismissed it out of hand.
"If you'd prefer something else, I'm certain you remember how to instruct the elves."
"I didn't mean anything bad," said Harry, sensing that he'd offended Severus somehow. Well, the other man had intended to arrange a celebration. And one was probably appropriate. What they'd done the night before was practically a prelude to defeating Vol . . . the Dark Lord. Maybe wine was in order. Harry sipped at his. "Oh. As wines go, this isn't so bad. Is it French?"
Severus drank half his glass before he answered. "Yes, from the Champagne region of the country, hence the name. Properly, a wine like this shouldn't be called champagne unless it's from there."
Two things about that speech struck Harry as odd. It was more information than he'd asked for, and he couldn't hear any derision in Severus' voice. At what had been a bit of a silly question, he now realised. Most of the wines Severus had served him were French, after all.
Oh . . . the ritual bath. The babbling Harry had done. He'd said he'd like to feel like less of an idiot at table. Though most of what he'd said had been about . . . oh, God. Things he liked about Severus, and top of the list had been the man's enormous cock.
Harry gulped the rest of his champagne, but it didn't get rid of the heat in his face.
"Relax, Harry," a dry voice advised. "Everything is all right."
"Yeah . . ." Harry cleared his throat. "I thought it would be a lot different from this, that's all. I hope this doesn't offend the rite or anything, but . . . I don't feel like I'm really your slave. Are you sure it worked?"
"It worked." Severus paused. "What do you feel like, then?"
"Just . . . myself. I expected to . . . I don't know. Sort of lose that, I guess." Harry gave a little shake of his head, trying to sort it all out. He knew he had to submit to Severus in order for them to cross powers. And not just sexual submission, either, though that was supposed to be "far and away" the most significant kind according to the précis. But maybe he could sort of build up to that by starting with something simpler. "Um . . . so what did you want me to do today, anyway?"
Severus put his fork and knife down. "That's generally the sort of question we can do without, Harry."
"I'm just trying to . . . er, get into the spirit of the thing."
"Laudable," drawled Severus. "But I've no intention of assigning you duties, is that clear? If I need you to do something you can be sure I'll mention it, but in general, you're simply to live your life. You've stopped eating; have you had enough breakfast?"
"Yeah," said Harry thickly, pushing back his chair. "I guess I'll take a walk around Hogwarts, then. I mean, if that's all right with you. Do I need permission to leave, something like that?"
"No, certainly not, though it would be polite of you to inform me." As Harry stood up, though, Severus held up a hand. "For the moment, however, you really should stay. There are some matters to attend to."
"Oh." Harry sank back down into his chair. It didn't seem like Severus wanted to boss him around, particularly, but if they were going to cross powers, Harry had to give in to the other man's wishes. Even though he'd much rather get away from it all for a while. That would just be a lie, though. No matter how long his walk, he'd have to return here, sooner or later, and face the fact that he was a slave even if it was just . . . hard to believe it.
"Sure," he said, trying to sound like he was really happy to do whatever Severus wanted. "Um . . . what matters?"
"We need to find out as much as possible about the spell we're living under. I have a few . . . tests, in mind. But first, I've put some things away and I thought you should know where they are."
"Uh . . . all right." Harry stood up when Severus did, and followed him out to the sitting room. "What things?"
He couldn't be sure, but he almost thought he saw Severus smile, the expression a bit sly. But fleeting. "This, for example." Severus ran a finger along the top shelf of a bookcase, stopping when he reached the spine of a book Harry particularly remembered. The photo album. He felt a pang just looking at it.
"You're going to keep it? I sort of thought you might want burn all the photos of James, at least. After what he did to you."
"I'm not going to burn something important to you, Harry. Not without much better cause than that."
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "But I . . . I know it's yours now," he said, trying to submit to that fact. He wasn't sure of much, but he did know that he couldn't own anything, ever again. "I know you can do what you want with all my . . . um, all that stuff."
"I am doing what I want," said Severus softly.
Harry hadn't noticed him coming closer, but suddenly Severus was right there in front of him, bending his head to kiss him. He almost flinched back, but told himself that kissing was all right. It was, actually. He'd liked it still, even after he'd got back from London.
As long as it didn't become too sexual . . .
But it didn't seem like Severus was trying to get him into bed. Not with a kiss like this, which was soft and gentle. It was more like comfort, and over fairly quickly besides.
"Harry," he said as he stepped back, "I have wanted for a while to explain this to you, but it was best left until after the invocation. It was important that you go into the rite believing that you were giving your things to me."
Harry blinked. "Wasn't I?"
"You were, yes, of course. That's the way it has to be. And it's likely important that you continue holding to that perspective, but . . . well, perhaps you should just let me continue, Harry."
Harry wasn't completely sure what was going on. "Uh . . . all right . . ."
"As I was saying, then, I recently acquired this photo album." Severus plucked it from the shelf and extended it to Harry. "I only have so much shelf space."
"You're a wizard; you can just spell some more--"
"Harry," interrupted Severus, "I'd rather it be kept in my other rooms, if that's all right with you. Along with this mirror." Severus picked it up from where it was lying, flat on the same shelf, and handed it to Harry along with the photo album. "All right?"
"All right," said Harry slowly, smiling a little as he began to understand what Severus was doing. He couldn't give Harry's things back, not properly. Harry wasn't allowed to own anything. But Severus could do the next best thing, which was to make sure Harry had full use of them. Harry hugged the book and mirror to his chest. "Thank you, Severus. Really."
The other man shrugged. "You already know where I keep my brooms. I anticipate, though, that you'd prefer to coach Quidditch using the Firebolt?"
Harry grinned. "Yeah, that works."
"So borrow it as you have need. I certainly can't use two brooms. Come to think of it, I can't imagine needing two owls, either. Why don't you continue to use Hedwig, Harry? That way my other owl will be available whenever I might need her."
Harry hadn't even known that Severus had an owl. "Sure. Sounds great, in fact."
"Was it your practise to have her live in the Owlery, or with you?"
"With me. But I had to destroy her cage, you know. That's all right; she'll come when I call--"
"I doubt that, Harry," said Severus, moving a hand to grasp Harry's forearm. "She's attuned to magic."
"Oh, she'll sense that I gave her away, right." Harry sighed. "Poor Hedwig. She'll probably never talk to me again. Well, not that she talks, but . . . I had her for an awfully long time."
"Owls can be temperamental, but I'll tell her to answer to you. And if you would still like her to live with you, it should be a simple matter to get another cage." Severus nodded, the motion brisk. "A wizard slave without a wand wouldn't be much use at all, so I insist you use this one."
He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket, and slipped it into Harry's instead.
Pulling his arm free, Harry ran his hands up and down the wand. He'd known Severus would let him use it, of course. But still, holding it again . . . Harry had to clear his throat before he could talk. "Thanks," he said again. "Really, you're being just great about everything. I . . . I should have trusted you a lot sooner--"
"You trusted me when it counted, which is all that truly matters," said Severus. "I have more to tell you, Harry."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I find myself in possession of a most remarkable map, along with an invisibility cloak. Items which you have both used and misused in the past, in my view."
That dark gaze was boring into him, as if willing him to understand. Harry looked away. "Yeah. I guess it's a bit much to think you'd . . . uh, want me to keep those upstairs, too. It's all right, Severus."
"It is a bit much," drawled Severus. "However, it's not lost on me that you might actually need those items at some point. You do seem to attract danger."
Harry met the other man's gaze again. "I thought you thought I courted it."
"Fine line," retorted Severus. "I've considered the matter for a good while. Being able to invoke . . . that demonstrated a vast deal of maturity on your part. So I have reached a compromise with myself. The map and cloak are in that trunk." He gestured towards it. "It's locked and warded, but it will open to you. I'd ask that you not fetch out either item unless you have a true need, and that you consult with me beforehand whenever possible."
"And if it's not possible?"
"The trunk's wardings will alert me whenever it is opened. Needless to say, if you use the items in a frivolous manner, I will have to reconsider these arrangements."
It was more than Harry had ever expected. A lot more. "Thanks," he said again, beginning to feel a bit like a parrot. He couldn't help it, though.The hurt of giving his father's things away was much, much less, now. "I appreciate that, Severus . . . you treating me like an adult, even if I am your slave. I know you said you were going to, and I thought I believed it, but I didn't know you meant . . ."
"I couldn't explain any earlier," Severus said quietly. "And you must remain clear that these things, all of them, are in fact mine. But there's nothing about Podentes that keeps me from being . . . generous, with my slave."
"I understand. It's like the rooms upstairs. Yours as well, I'm clear on it. But for me to use."
"Exactly." Severus opened his mouth slightly, as if to speak, but he didn't say anything for a moment. Again, Harry had the strange impression that the other man was nervous.
"Severus?"
"There is something more." The man cleared his throat, speaking in a way that sounded rehearsed. "You are my slave, yes, and as such I'm responsible for your maintenance and support. Nothing can change that. However, there is ample historical precedent for slaves being trusted with a portion of their master's money, for any number of reasons. In our case, I've decided that it will soon grow tedious having you apply to me for funds every time you have some small need or other. Purchasing a new cage for Hedwig, for example. In that spirit, therefore . . ."
Severus reached into his pocket again and pulled out something hard and small to place in Harry's hand.
It was obviously a key, which made good sense considering what Severus had just said, but what stunned Harry was the fact that he recognised it.
"This is . . . my key," he breathed.
"No, no, technically it's mine."
"Oh yeah, of course." Harry smiled. "But it's . . . um, familiar."
"Yes, well, I decided that a separate vault would be the simplest way to allot some funds for your use." Severus' eyes began glinting with humour. "Imagine my surprise when a vault became available, just when I needed one."
"Yeah, imagine that," said Harry dryly. "I . . . I hardly know what to say."
"Perhaps you should inquire as to the contents."
Harry felt like that would be kind of rude. Kind of like how Dudley was always so greedy over gifts. But Severus wanted him to, so that probably made it all right. "What's in the vault, then?"
"Just this." Severus summoned a piece of parchment. When Harry pressed his key into it, he saw that the full contents of his vault had been restored. Everything, right down to the Pursel rod. And every last Galleon.
"Now I really don't know what to say," croaked Harry. "Um . . . I can just spend this, as I like?"
"As long as you behave like a young man of nearly nineteen, yes," said Severus, looking pleased. "It's my vault now, you realise. It's in my name and I will be receiving quarterly accountings, just as I do for my other vault. But you've had access to large amounts before without losing all judgment, so I don't anticipate there should be any need to change these arrangements."
The date at the top of the Gringott's statement said that the arrangements had been in place for weeks.
"I wish you could have told me--" Shaking his head, Harry started over. "I know you couldn't tell me. You're right; the spell might have read me wrong at the invocation. I mean . . . all this. It's hard, even now, not to think of it as mine--"
"I can always merge my two vaults," said Severus dryly.
Harry could tell he was joking. Well, not quite joking. There were some teeth to the comment. But neither was Severus intending to do that . . . unless he had to.
"That's all right. I can manage," said Harry, almost laughing, he was so happy. "I'll remember it's yours. Honest, I will."
"I'm sure you will."
Harry still didn't know what to say, but he suddenly knew what to do. Other than say thanks another hundred times. "Wait a second," he said, then dashed back to the reading room where Severus kept his dining table. Damn. The elves had already cleared everything away. Well, that didn't matter so much. Harry tapped it and demanded two glasses of the same champagne as before. When they appeared, he snatched them up and went back out to the front room, where he gave one to Severus.
He felt like giving the other man a quick kiss, too. Just a peck, really, to show him how much he appreciated all this. Severus didn't have to do it, after all. Not any of it. Well, except the wand and broom, Harry supposed. But the rest was pure consideration, something Harry really hadn't been expecting. Well, except in bed.
Bed, though, reminded Harry that a kiss might not be such a great idea. What if Severus took it wrong and started thinking it was sort of a promise for later on, for that night? What if . . . but no, Severus would understand when Harry said he was still worn out from the invocation. He wouldn't expect Harry to want to be sexual with him, not right away, not if Harry said he needed a little while to recover . . .
So Harry went ahead and kissed Severus lightly, then stepped back. "I didn't much feel like celebrating, earlier, but now . . . I think a toast is in order," he said, raising his flute as he looked up into Severus' dark eyes. "Um . . . to the future?"
"To the future," echoed Severus, looking pleased as he clinked their glasses together. His hair swayed as he tilted the glass and drank. "Quite a nice choice of wine."
"Oh . . . it's just what you chose," said Harry, a little embarrassed. "I liked it too. So . . . what now? Can I go into Hogsmeade to get a cage?"
"Perhaps later. First I'd like to find out as much as we can about the enchantment you're under. The mind bond, my level of control over your magic--"
"Compulsio," added Harry, making a face. "But you know, I can throw off Imperius, so . . ."
"If you can throw off Compulsio that would be very bad news, indeed."
"I know . . . I just . . . I don't like it."
Severus banished their glasses and took Harry by the forearms, his manner so serious that it seemed he was making a vow. Just as he'd done when he'd knelt before Harry and promised to bind himself as well. "I will not misuse it, Harry. I will not misuse you."
"I believe you," said Harry, just as sincerely. "I do, really. I don't think I could have invoked this, otherwise." That was definitely the case, especially considering . . . Harry hurriedly brought his thoughts back to the present. "Um, don't you think we should see what the binding contract actually says? I'd hate to break it without knowing."
"I'd like to see what it says, as well," murmured Severus.
"You don't remember what you were thinking?"
"Oh, I remember," drawled Severus, his voice deep with meaning. "What would I be thinking, when you'd just climaxed from my kiss alone?"
Harry went hot all over. This was all he needed, for Severus to think Harry was so . . . hot and bothered by him that he couldn't withstand so much as a kiss without . . . "That was just the potion," he said, anxious to make Severus believe it. "I . . . I like kissing you but it's not usually as . . . intense as that. I just hope you didn't put that in the contract, that I have to come like that all the time--"
"I doubt my most fervent subconscious desire was for you to develop a problem with premature ejaculation."
Harry thought he sounded . . . well, not snide. But not too happy with the suggestion, either. "Well, how should I know what your most fervent subconscious desires would be? If you want the truth, I'm not so sure I even want to know what they are."
"I'm reluctant to find out, myself," said Severus, sounding like he was holding in a sigh.
"You're afraid of what you might have wished," Harry realised. Was that why Severus had seemed a little bit nervous all morning?
"Afraid overstates the case, but I suppose you're essentially correct."
"How bad could it be?" asked Harry, though he thought it was a bit odd that he should have to be the one to do the consoling, here. He wasn't even sure, really, what Severus had to worry about. What did he stand to lose? Harry was the one who was going to have to comply with the terms, no matter what they were.
"I suggest we find out," said Severus. "Shall we?"
Thursday, June 18, 1998 ---- 10:26 a.m.
Severus had fetched the contract while he was waiting for Harry to come back for breakfast, but he hadn't looked at it. Rather astute of the young man to realise that Severus was reluctant. It wasn't because of what Harry thought, of course. The terms weren't likely to be onerous, since that wasn't the kind of life he wanted for Harry. But what if they said something that hinted at his feelings for the young man?
Or worse, stated them outright?
Severus drew in a breath. He wasn't ready for Harry to know. Actually, he wasn't sure he'd ever be ready. Certainly, not before he could be sure that Harry cared for him, as well. Things were too one-sided, at the moment, but possibly after Harry developed some feelings of affection, Severus could mention that he, too . . .
Of course, if the contract made his feelings plain for Harry to see, there'd be no need of any such mentions. Severus scowled, wishing he could keep the contract locked away from Harry's eyes. Not much point in wishing that, though. There was no possible way he could refuse to let Harry see the contract he'd signed. Harry had to know the terms of their binding if he was to comply with them.
Severus sighed. If it came to a choice between protecting his secrets and protecting Harry from the wrath of a broken contract, there was no question which he would choose. Harry.
Putting someone else's needs before his own . . . Severus wasn't used to that. He had a feeling, though, that it would become all too familiar.
For now, though, it was simply uncomfortable.
Harry followed him into his office and sat down in the chair he'd used the last time he was in here. Severus didn't want the desk between them, so he seated himself in the chair next to Harry, moving it so that he was somewhat facing the young man.
The contract was on his desk, tightly scrolled. "Do you want me to read it first, or give it to you?"
Harry glanced at it, his gaze troubled. Fear mixed with resignation. "Um . . . together, I think. Yeah, that'd be best."
Nodding, Severus took up the contract and began to unroll it.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Looks awfully long. And legalistic, I guess is the word. You must have a pretty strange subconscious."
"This first part reads like a standard preface to me," Severus murmured, scanning it. "The contract is re-iterating the conditions that in ancient cultures formed an inherent part of a Podentes enslavement. Although it's expressed in the more modern language of contract that I'm familiar with."
"You read it," said Harry, sighing and leaning back. "I'm getting a headache from the mice type."
"Pardon?"
Ey...
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