Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **While Harry Potter is not mine, everything original like the slave castes is not to be used without permission

**Warnings: **slavery, male/male pairing, manipulation, Voldemort

**This is the sequel to "Reign of Darkness".**

If you ignore the warnings, please do not embarrass yourself by leaving a review complaining about those things I expressly warned about.

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**Chapter 1**

One late evening in autumn, Severus Snape stood at the entrance gate to the Dark Lord's new palace and had to fight hard to keep his face impassive and his eyes flat.

The palace walls were made of white marble and the protection magic weaved into the very stone was strong enough to make the very air vibrate. The palace was built in the form of a pentacle, yet another ward for protection. There were seven floors, all of them with large crystal windows and ornamented balconies.

The park surrounding the estate was huge and well cultivated. Severus was sure that were one to wander through it one would unerringly find small lakes in secretive places and beautifully crafted fountains in open spaces.

It didn't look like the kind of place any Dark Lord would call his home, let alone the darkest one for many centuries.

This palace looked more like something a king would build for his descendants, a place that would serve as home for his lineage for many millennia to come.

Just one look at the offensive and absolutely flawless wards that were placed on the estate however convinced Severus that the Dark Lord did indeed plan to stay here.

It was yet another one of those changes that took place in the last four years that was atypical and didn't fit with what Severus knew about his former Master. If he hadn't known the Dark Lord so well, he would have suspected that someone was pulling the strings in the shadows.

The dark haired man had been surprised and not a little wary to find an invitation to the first official ball during the Dark Lord's reign of darkness in his daily mail. If it weren't for the information that the ball would be held in honor of the Dark Lord's consort, Severus would have refused outright. As it was, he was too curious about the consort's identity and his place in the Dark Lord's chain of power to resist.

Steeling his features and strengthening his Occlumency shields, Severus ran a hand down his deep red dress robes, that displayed his family's coat of arms proudly just above his heart in golden thread, and entered the palace with the next flock of guests.

Menials dressed in customary brown on brown uniforms and wearing the legally proper dark brown collar branded with their owner's coat of arms around their necks guided the guests through a short hallway to the grand ballroom on the first floor.

The floor was made of white marble, too, interspersed with mosaics in black, green and blue, depicting the most famous Wizarding tales. The very few pictures on the walls were of empty landscapes, but Severus didn't expect anything less of the Dark Lord. It would be too easy to get a portray to spy on the inhabitants.

The ballroom was huge and looked like something out of a fairy tale. White marble everywhere one looked, richly decorated with red, blue and silver flowers, chandeliers made of the most precious metals and jewels were hanging from the ceiling.

A couple of small round tables on the far left provided tired or hungry guests with privacy, the buffet were situated at the very back of the room. There, too, Menials were seeing to the guests'needs.

The thrones on the raised dais on in the right middle side of the room were still empty. The host and guest of honor hadn't made their appearance, yet.

Couples were already dancing across the rest of the floor, a picture of swirling robes in many colors and laughing faces. As if the war had taken place millennia ago and there was nothing wrong in the world. It looked innocent and content and it made Severus'stomach churn with acid.

The Potions Master glided through the room with natural grace, avoiding dancers and old acquaintances alike, his dress robes billowing behind him. He sat down at one of the small tables and glared venomously at anyone who even looked like he or she even contemplated sitting down next to him.

Letting his gaze rove around the room he discovered that some of the guests had brought their Registered Courtesans as escorts to the social main event of the year. Though only a handful of them wore revealing clothes, the RCs were easily discernible by the bright purple collars the law required them to wear around their necks, arms and feet.

At least no one had been tasteless enough to bring a Birther. As soon as Severus noticed just how ordinary the terms and those people's position seemed in his mind he was utterly disgusted at himself.

The old form of slavery that the Dark Lord had enforced after the war had undergone some severe changes in the last three years. Where before the slaves had been totally at their owner's mercy, their lives were now ruled by iron laws and regulations.

After graduating „Nimue's Elementary School"every slave took an evaluation and inclination test to determine his or her future career. They were then sorted into one of the three newly invented slave castes: Birther, which was the highest and most respected rank in society with the highest pay, too; Registered Courtesan, which was the second rank and gave the slaves the social standing that had been given to squibs in the past; or Menials, which was the lowest rank and placed a person only slightly above house elves.

Birthers completed their secondary schooling at „Nurse and Care"where they learned everything there was to know about health, pregnancy and childcare. They also received conception tattoos, charms and spells that were branded into their magical core and manifested as artful tattoos on their skin. Birthers graduated on their seventeen's birthday, when their magic had stabilized enough to ensure a save pregnancy and were most often contracted directly out of school. In the rare case that didn't happen they took temporary residence in the Nac district near St. Mungos.

Registered Courtesans completed their schooling at „Fay's Pleasures"where upon graduation on their sixteen's birthday the slaves drafted their contracts and moved to the pleasure district in Diagon Alley. There they were provided with two room apartments and worked with various customers till they were longtime contracted.

Menials, those slaves that were neither pretty nor magically strong enough to be either Birthers or RCs, completed their secondary schooling at „Servant's Hall". They graduated on their fifteen's birthday and were then brought to the Markets were they stayed in small cubicles till they were bought.

Those three castes, though only coming into existence three years ago, were already deeply anchored in the minds of the population. People thought of it as ordinary and natural. Since there were strict laws regulating the care and pay of Birthers, RCs and Menials no one thought of it as slavery anymore. Slaves didn't get paid nor had rights; therefore those three castes weren't a form of slavery.

While the new system had lessened the misery of the war slaves Severus knew it was even more dangerous than the old one. If people didn't think of something as cruel or unjust they wouldn't demand it to be changed. Never before had the Dark Lord thought of ways to appear legitimate or manipulate the ordinary people by protecting wizards and witches of lesser standing by law.

Severus was roused out of his thoughts when the music stopped and the lights dimmed. It seemed like their host had finally arrived.

The Menial at the entrance doors announced the distinguished couple: „Lord Voldemort and his Lord Consort. "

Silence fell on the room, wizard after wizard and witch after witch bowing deeply as the couple walked top the raised dais in the middle.

When the couple took their seats, the music started up again and the lively dancing continued.

Trying to get a better look at the mysterious consort without making it obvious, Severus stood up and walked to the buffet.

The Dark Lord sat on the right throne, wearing robes of a royal blue, embroidered with his coats of arms. A small golden circlet adorned his forehead, engraved with silvery glowing runes and tiny jewels.

Sitting to his left was a young man who wore green robes embroidered with the Dark Lord's coats of arms. A silver circlet adorned his forehead, engraved with silvery glowing runes but without the jewels. As far as Severus could see, the man had black shoulder length hair that was bound in the neck. The man's posture made it impossible to get a look at his face.

Both the Dark Lord's and the Lord Consort's magical aura were breathtaking. The two men radiated pure magical power and Severus wondered where on Earth the Dark Lord had found a wizard of equal power and why he hadn't killed him instead of courting him.

The word „equal"sent an unpleasant precognition through him. Severus still remembered the prophecy regarding the Dark Lord and his equal. And the Dark Lord had only marked one person in his life.

In that very moment the Lord Consort turned his head and stared directly at Severus. Arctic green glowing with the light of Avada Kedavra bore into wide obsidian ones, swirling with confusion and astonishment.

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**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **everything you recognize belongs to JRK, the rest is mine and not to be used without permission

**Warnings: **male/male pairing, manipulation, unbeta-ed version

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**Chapter 2**

Harry successfully hid his excitement when his gaze met Snape's. All his scheming, every last one of his sacrifices would have been for naught if the taciturn Potions Master had declined the invitation.

Quickly erasing that line of thought from his conscious mind, he kept his face blank and the look in his eyes cold and disinterested. There was no margin for error; the first mistake would be his last.

It had taken him two years to find a way that allowed him to influence Voldemort in the tiniest of issues and every favour had a high cost indeed. Sometimes the expressionless green eyed young man dearly wished to be ignorant about just how devastating a failure could prove to be for his world.

Four years of intensive study and changing his self to suit his task had finally taken him to a place where he would eventually be able to arrange for a tiny window of opportunity to end this reign of darkness.

He studied his former professor's form with hawk's eyes, taking notice of how many more lines the past six years had added to the older wizard's, of how tired he looked. But he also found that core of fire, those nerves of steel, that levelheadedness that would be crucial to make Harry's plans come to fruition.

The old spy might be tired, but he still possessed the necessary strength of will to make this world change.

A low hissing caused Harry to break his stare with Snape and turn to his companion, lover, owner, spouse.

"_Something that caught your attention, kitten mine?"_

Harry shook his head slightly and smiled widely at Voldemort, thereby disguising the gesture as an in amusement tossed head.

"_Just scanning the crowd, Milord." _The younger man hissed back.

Outsiders would never be able to tell if the couple was having a serious discussion, an argument or were simply flirting with each other since they always spoke in parseltongue when talking to each other, their faces always wearing the same smiling or blank expression. It was always smoke and mirrors with them.

"_My, what a diligent Lord Consort you make. You may act as you deem right, kitten. Weave me a net of supporters I can use to cement my power, charm the doubters among the guests till they believe every single word that leaves your lips. Practice on them what you will do for me at the ministries abroad." _Voldemort whispered into his consort's ear, pressing a gentle kiss on the young man's cheek for show, before gesturing for Harry to leave his seat and mingle among the guests freely.

Harry gave Voldemort another bright smile, looking for the world like a happy, beloved spouse, before standing up and starting to go the first round through the huge ballroom. He stopped then and again, complimenting the ladies on their beautiful looks and pretty clothes, congratulating the men to their beautiful companions and recent achievements.

Everyone was utterly charmed by the charismatic and powerful wizard; many feathers were soothed by his calm measurements regarding the new empireal form of government or the latest regulations.

Harry took care to smile brightly at Voldemort every now and again, to keep the illusion of the happily bound couple alive. The crowd only cared about the illusion; it wasn't interested in the truth.

The young wizard sat down next to Voldemort after his first round had ended, leaning into the touch of a gentle hand in his neck and the fleeting kisses breathed onto the wide expanse of his pale throat. Sadly he couldn't blame that on the need to act; it had become his natural reaction to his archenemy's touch ever since that cursed ritual six years ago.

Harry knew that approaching Snape anytime before Harry went his third round in the ballroom would make the possessive wizard next to him instantly suspicious. To outsiders it would look strange, because the animosity between Snape and he had been legendary, in Voldemort on the other hand suspicion would arise because Snape had tried to help Harry in the past.

But as Harry assured himself when looking at the mirror every morning, it was nothing he couldn't endure. He would survive till he succeeded; everything else was of no importance.

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Severus could hardly believe his eyes as he watched the host and his lord consort be affectionate and flirtatious during the evening. Every bright or gentle smile the coupled exchanged over the heads of the guests caused bile to rise in his throat.

Watching the Potter boy, though he couldn't really be called a boy anymore, move like an accomplished politician from one guest to the next, charming every single soul on his way, he felt defeated like never before.

If even the most brightly shining light among them had been forced to dim and go out, then what was left to hope about?

Since after that first eye contact the young man had made no move to approach Severus, the Potions Master was highly surprised to see young Potter walk up to him, a greeting smile on his lips.

"Good evening, Professor Snape." The green eyed man said his voice deep and clear.

Severus bowed in response, murmuring quietly: "It's an honour to meet you, Lord Consort."

Sharp obsidian eyes took in his companion's posture, analizing it for the tiniest hint of the man's intentions for approaching him.

"You look well, professor. I take it you are still terrifying your students into properly respecting the dangers of brewing potions?"

"Yes, indeed. First to Third years still often leave my classroom in tears."

Potter nodded to that, green eyes sparkling with mirth. "One does what one must to fulfil one's obligations."

Green eyes still filled with mirth, the young man continued: "Sadly I must be on my way, I'm afraid as guest of honour I am not free to talk to any one guest at length. It was nice to talk to you again, Professor Snape, I'll make sure to send you word. Good evening, professor."

Hastily bowing into the rapidly disappearing figure of Potter in parting, Severus' mind was busy deciphering the reason behind Potter's approach and his enigmatic words.

He watched the young man out of the side of his eyes for the rest of the ball, but Potter didn't give any hints about his intentions.

As Severus left the ball at three am, he cursed in his mind that one way or another Potter always managed to cause him sleepless nights.

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**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**disclaimer: **see chapter one

**warnings: **male/male

_parseltongue_

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**Chapter 3**

It was late at night or early morning depending on one's view, when the ruling couple retired to their bed chamber.

Since it was only the two of them on the whole seventh floor of the palace, at any time of any day, curses and magical scanners ensuring that there would be no trespassers of any nature, Harry allowed the fake expression of happiness he had worn during the whole ball to fade back into the mask of indifference he had cultivated in the last two years.

He didn't know what he hated more, the fake public displays of affection or the only too true happenings that took place every night. The look in his eyes grew even colder and more distant with every step he took into their rooms.

Crossing through the lavishly decorated ante-room, Harry started to unfasten the clasps, buttons and straps on his robes. When the robes fell open they revealed his unmarred, lily white chest and a pair of deep black pants.

Just as he reached the door to the actual bedroom, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"_I don't remember giving you permission to go to sleep, yet."_

Harry let the hands steer him back to the armchairs on front of the fireplace that made sure their rooms where sufficiently warm. His hands rose to re-fasten his clothes, but another hissed order made them fall back to his sides.

"_I rather like the way you look, kitten, and there's no need to be shy between the two of us."_

Shrugging unconcernedly, Harry sat down in the left armchair that was angled to give whoever sat on the other one a lovely view of the seated. In the earlier days he had been so disconcerted by Voldemort's open staring an leering whenever he ordered Harry to sit there, that he had tried to displace the armchair at least a couple of degrees to make the angle of sight a bit less intruding, but it had been magically secured in place.

Nowadays the young wizard didn't let little things like that ruffle his feathers anymore. He had painfully learned that he did better to save his strength for the big battles and simply concede defeat in the smaller ones.

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Voldemort let his crimson gaze wander appreciatively over the sight his young consort made, relaxing in the armchair like he had no care in the world as he was, open green robes artistically framing white, unblemished skin, their colour highlighting the arctic green eyes that openly returned his stare.

His kitten was a picture of debauchery and he couldn't wait to claim his price once again. He was sure he would never grow tired of it for the rest of all eternity. But business came first: _"So, what did you think of the ball, kitten?"_

The younger wizard finally lowered his gaze, turning it to the happily burning fire instead. And what wonderful shadows those flames cast on his lightly muscled abdomen.

"_It was a success, just as I predicted, Milord."_ His kitten's voice washed over him like music, melodic as it was. It had grown slightly deeper in recent years, but Voldemort welcomed the change. Not only were the sounds that voice produced in the bedroom even more satisfying, but it aided Voldemort's plans for the future and his kitten's role in them quite beautifully. No one took a young looking dignitary with a teenager's voice seriously, no matter how overwhelming his magical presence was.

"_You mean just as you promised."_ he reminded his consort lightly, finally sitting down in his own armchair.

"_The laws you enacted and enforced have strengthened the people's belief that despite having declared yourself a Dark Lord you will be a just and competent ruler. People do not rally to rebel against a system that appears just. More importantly, foreign __**nations**__will not be easily convinced to take action against a system that appears just in its own way."_

"_Speaking of foreign nations, I hope you are prepared to do your duty when I send you to the continent next month." _A subtle warning underlined his sentence, reflected in the merciless gaze of his crimson eyes.

His kitten merely sighed, then turned his head to meat Voldemort's gaze again.

"_You know as well as I do just how __futile any subterfuge on my part would be. My mind is an open book to you. My body needs yours to survive. My soul and life are magically bound to yours. Do you still need to be so paranoid?"_

Voldemort's eyes narrowed predatorily and a delighted smile curled his lips. His kitten had learned well when and where he could show his claws without fear of retribution, equals indeed.

"_I am a Dark Lord."_

"_And you have made me your consort instead of your pet."_ was the unabashed answer.

"_I will truly miss your presence when you start teaching at Hogwarts next week." _the older wizard mused, before standing up and reaching out for his companion with his right hand, the demand to follow him unspoken.

Obediently the dark haired young man took the hand and allowed Voldemort to pull him to his chest and to claim his lips in a possessive kiss. One hand loosened the tie that held his kitten's dark locks back; the other explored and caressed the planes of his chest.

"_Now we will retire to the bedroom, kitten."_

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Severus Snape looked disbelievingly at his superior. "You cannot be serious, Minerva." he gasped.

"I assure you, Severus, I am deadly serious. Do you really think I would ever jest about something like that?" there was a sour note in McGonagall's voice and Severus tried to overcome his shock enough to placate her.

"I know, I know. It is just…"

"Apparently there will be a new course added to the curriculum this year, which Mr. Potter will teach. It is called "culture" and will be mandatory for all years. They will be taught modern, proper etiquette, Wizarding laws and modern politics." she explained further, giving her deputy headmaster a significant look.

"Since it will be taught by Mr. Potter the course will be above question, I see." he replied thoughtfully, a cold weight of dread settling deep in his stomach. "I'm afraid the Dark Lord is even more cunning than anyone ever gave him credit for. He's going to change the way whole generations of the brightest and most powerful Wizarding children in Britain think and feel, moulding them in the image of his new empire."

For the first time McGonagall looked every year of her age, her face paling rapidly and her eyes growing dim.

"Tell me about the ball last night, please. I do not wish to think about Britain's future any more today."

"What is there to tell? It was a congregation of fools and sharks. They danced, they dined, they intrigued and they tried to worm their way into the Dark Lord's consort's favour." he answered waspishly, disdain dropping from every single word.

"It is true then, he has taken a consort. Who is it?"

"Why, come September he will be one of your teachers, Minerva." And Severus would have the opportunity to get to the ground of Potter's puzzling remarks.

Severus let his gaze wander out of the window and into the distance. Maybe, just maybe not all hope was lost, yet.

**TBC**


End file.
