Something More

PART II

I wake up in a familiar place.

No, not in the cell.

But in Master's room, on Master's bed, with him beside me. I am curled up like a cat against his chest. Facing him. I feel warm air on the back of my neck as he breaths. The soft beige comforter covers both of us. Underneath, I feel his arms around me, holding me possessively but gently, not like a pet, or a slave, or a toy, but like...a lover.

"Good morning," he says.

"Good morning, Master," I return softly.

"We've been together for a while."

"Yes, Master. Five years." I am confused. What did he mean by that? Did he not want me anymore? Oh, please no. Don't send me away. I could not live without him.

"You should call me Tom," he says suddenly.

I freeze. What? Call him Tom? I thought he hated that filthy muggle name. The last time I had accidentally called him Tom, he had given me a heavy belting for disrespect.

He must have sensed my distress because he chuckles and says. "Don't worry Pet." Master runs his hands up and down my back in gentle strokes, "I wish you to call me Tom"

My stomach tightens, and from my vocal cords I draw, "T...Tom." What could I do, refuse? It was an order, wasn't it?

Tom is a common and ordinary name, but my Master is anything but ordinary and everything extraordinary. No wonder he does not like the name. Now Voldemort, that is a name to suit. But "Tom" sounded surprisingly good as it drifted from my tongue. "Tom," I stutter out again. This seems to please him. "Good boy. Such a good boy," he praises, moving his hands to stroke my head. I purr at the sensation and snuggle closer.

Tom, Thomas, is a nice name after all.

I wonder what he will do if I ever call him Tommy.

Better not.

"I'm sorry," he says. His once coarse, hard and icy voice is now soft and reassuring. He pulls me close and puts his chin above my head. "I love you."

"I love you Mas..." I had almost called him master; it came so easily. For five years, the words have come naturally after every sentence. It had become a reflex, an instinct, a habit that was never meant to die. "...Tom."

But die it did.

"Mine."

"Yours." I said instinctively, without thinking.

"Never again Pet, never again." I am not obtuse. I knew what he meant. He did not mean the whippings or canings. He meant the solitary confinement. I think he had a hard time being away from me. He just won't admit it. I can't stand being away from him. And vice versa.

But more than anything else, he meant Snape. He would never allow such a thing again. He would never allow another to take me, for as long as I live. I have it now, the things I longed for when I was in my cell. His arms around me, his rhythmic heartbeat in my ear, his warmness like an aura, banishing away all the darkness from my life. It seems that I have something more as well; I have his love, his heart.

He is mine.

He kisses me tenderly on the lips and wipes away my tears. "Never again Harry, never again."

Harry. He has never called me Harry before...

-finis-

Keep my heart, hold it tight.

Don't let go, embrace its light.

Love me back and all is right.

My life is yours, your life is mine.