Voldemort has won the war, and he knows the perfect boy to make his little bitch. It might take some training, but with the help of some memory potions Harry Potter will make a perfect pet.

BOOK TWO ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Proffesor Snape turned and stared at Harry, one eyebrow raised. "Mr. Potter! Are you paying attention?" "Y-Yes, Proffesor." "Tell me what would you get if I asked you to add powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?" Snape asked, knowing that the first year wouldn't know the answer. "I-I don't kn-know Sir." Harry said, his throat tightening severely. "Very well, Mr. Potter, where would you go if I asked you to get a Bezoar?" "I-I s-suppose t-the supply c-closet, P-Proffessor" Harry said, his heart racing and his breathing becoming shallow. "I-what?" Snape asked, not expecting this answer from a Gryffindor. "Th-the s-supply c-closet, Sir?" Harry repeated. "Well... umm yes, technically, but if I didn't have one then where would you go to get one?" "Th-the s-store s-sir?" Harry asked trying to think of a suitable answer. "Think Potter. Where does a bezoar come from?" "I d-don't know sir!" Harry cried, tears prickling his eyes. "And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?" Snape asked. "I-I don't know, Sir" Snape stepped closer to Harry, who in return flinched away. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so power-" Snape stopped talking as Harry quickly wrote down every word the man was saying. "What are you doing?" "Ta-Taking N-Notes Proffesor." Harry said, quietly. "Is that what you were doing before?" Snape asked, surprised. "Y-Yes, Sir." "Hmm..." Snape hummed "Five points to Gryffindor." the class gasped and stared at the Proffesor "And see me after class, P-Harry." "Y-Yes, sir."