I'd like to dedicated this posting to PAR , who left me one of the kindest, most thoughtful reviews I've ever received on a previous Dresden one shot of mine, "Learning Curve."

You have no idea how much your words inspired me to keep going in writing these one shots and I seriously appreciate the time you took to give me such detailed feedback. I can only hope any future scribblings will continue to measure up. Thank you so much again.

"Come out, Bob."

The fact that Justin Morningway was taking the time and consideration to actually address him by name already set the ghost on edge. In the long years he'd been in the service of the wizard, Morningway had never used his name unless he was talking about him, rather than to him.

Still, Bob obediently materialized out of his skull to find with considerable surprise, that the aforementioned wizard had moved his skull to the outside garden area for this discussion. All meetings between them were always conducted in Morningway's study, a perpetually cold area of the house that while handsomely decorated, constantly reminded any visitor that all activities within the walls were business only. The fact that the ghost found himself outside in the sunlight with Morningway for a meeting only added to the strangeness of the man calling him out by his name.

Justin Morningway sat on a stone bench, looking comfortably at home amongst the flowers, like a serpent in the gardens. "You seem surprised," the wizard remarked, casually.

"I wasn't expecting for us to be out here," stated Bob, standing gingerly in front of his keeper.

"I thought a different scenery would make a nice change of pace, don't you agree?" said Morningway. "The sun's out. Spring is finally here."

"Whatever pleases you," said Bob, indifferently. "Sun, rain, snow. I really wouldn't know the difference." The coldest blizzard was the same as the hottest heat wave, so little did the ghost feel any outside stimulus. He'd usually only been able to tell the temperature of a day by observing how many layers of clothing Harry would pile on before going outside.

Morningway chuckled. "I can always count on you to put a bright spin on matters. Don't you ever get tired of being bad-tempered?" he asked with a near jovial tone.

Bob stared. Now it seemed Morningway was making idle chatter with him, which added yet another stick in the rapidly growing suspicious bonfire. "Was there anything in particular you wished to discuss?" asked the ghost, finally.

Morningway looked unperturbed by Bob's unwillingness to relax. "I want to talk to you about Harry."

The ghost nodded. He should have guessed. Justin's nephew had finally turned 25 and was now recognized as a fully active wizard. And after living in the Morningway Estate for over ten years, Harry, for the first time, would be going on an extended trip by himself. Yes, he'd be going to New York first to visit acquaintances of Justin's who were eager to meet the Morningway they'd heard so much about. But soon after there was the rest of the world to see. It would be the first time Harry would be on his own and away from the watchful eye of his uncle. And if the younger wizard found himself a situation while aboard, there was a good chance he would never need to return home.

Bob didn't need to be particularly sensitive to see how plainly elated Harry was at this promise of freedom. While he wouldn't be leaving until tomorrow morning, the newly minted wizard had been packing since last month. Looking at their surroundings again, it dawned on the ghost that Morningway may have very well moved their discussion outside to get as far away from Harry's earshot as possible. No doubt he was still inside the house, poring over his maps.

"As you know, Harry will be leaving us soon," said Morningway. "I've told him he is always welcome here and hope he will return to his home as soon as possible."

Bob wondered how well that had gone. In recent years, as Harry had begun to assert himself as a growing adult with independent thoughts, his already awkward relationship with his guardian had gotten strained. More often than not, the spirit had seen naked resentment on his former student's face at the commands sometimes issued to him by his uncle. He knew how happy Harry was to be getting away from his uncle's rules and he knew Morningway was too observant a man to have not noticed it either.

"Has he spoken to you about his plans?" asked Morningway, lightly.

"Only that he looked forward to climbing a few mountains," replied Bob.

"So he hasn't told you when he intends to return home."

"No."

"If at all."

"No."

The wizard merely nodded, as if the information was of little importance to him. But after years of working for Morningway, Bob had gotten adept at separating out Justin's looks of actual indifference with ones that only worked as masks to hide his true feelings.

"I'm well aware that Harry has earned his right to leave and explore the world that awaits him," said Morningway, magnanimously. "But he must remember that no man should stray far from his family."

After some of the more volatile fights between Harry and Morningway, the younger wizard had bitterly expressed to Bob that although related by blood, to Harry his uncle was not his family. The words were often spoken in anger and despite their harshness, the ghost knew Harry was more emotionally dependent on his uncle than he liked. Still the spirit thought it prudent to keep those conversations to himself.

"Before Harry leaves, I'd like for you to talk to him," instructed Morningway. Bob gave the wizard a non-comprehending stare. "Assure him that despite our differences, I am only here to provide for his best interests. And it would benefit him to embrace my gestures."

"So in short, you wish for me to 'go to bat' for you?" Bob surmised. It was an expression he'd heard Harry use on several occasions and it seemed to fit this scenario.

Justin smirked at the ghost's vocabulary. "If you want to put it that way," he allowed. "I simply think he'd be more receptive to you than to me. After all, he trusts you." The way the wizard said it seemed to question Harry's better judgment in doing so.

"Is that a command?" asked Bob.

When Morningway's smile shifted, the ghost narrowed his eyes. The grin betrayed that his keeper seemed to have predicted he would ask that question. Justin leaned forward a little, tilting his head to stare up at the enslaved spirit. Despite the current height imbalance, it was still obvious to any observer who had the upper hand. "I know how smart you are," said Morningway, quietly, the smile still in place. "So don't think I don't know how adept you've become at obeying me without giving me the desired results."

A grin to match Justin's in sincerity cut the ghost's face. "I cannot help it if I am not very good at my job," he said.

"So let me give you a little incentive," said Morningway with diplomatic aplomb. "Harry can enjoy himself around the world for now. But eventually, soon, I would like him to come home. I have plans, which involve him."

"What sort of plans?" Bob inquired, warily.

"For our future," answered Morningway, simply. "Now, I could tell you that my plans are to ensure a bright career for Harry. It would be the truth after all. But, I am well aware you need more motivation than that." At the resentful look on the spirit's face, Justin gave a quiet scoff. "I know you're fond of my nephew. But let's remember who you are."

"And what exactly is this carrot you're so generously hanging in front of me?"

With a smirk, Morningway stood, taking in hand the spirit's skull. He began to walk further into the grassier paths of the spacious garden away from the house, forcing the ghost to follow him lest he be dragged. The wizard took measured steps, allowing Bob to walk along side him with at least the pretense that this stroll was a mutual choice. "The curse that binds you to your skull is a very intricate one," began Justin. "But it's not without its loophole."

Bob abruptly stopped in his walking and only remembered to continue when he felt the manacles encircling his hands warningly pull him forward. He stumbled, but managed to continue without a complete loss of dignity. Morningway noted the reaction, but kept his face expressionless. "I can't free you from your binds completely. But there is a way to make you mortal." He stopped in his walk to face Bob, fully. "You'd be alive again. Granted, when you die your soul will return to its current state. But think of the years you could spend corporeal. You might even figure out a way to free yourself all together."

Bob stared at Morningway as he spoke. Perversely, a shaft of sunlight was breaking through the tall trees, casting the wizard in a near heavenly glow. With a considerable amount of will power, the ghost forced his mind to think logically about what he was being told and punch holes in Morningway's offer.

"The High Council would never allow it," he said, flatly. "Even if you do have the key to making me mortal, I'd enjoy life for all of one hour before the Council executed me back to my prison."

"When I said our future earlier, I didn't just mean Harry and myself. Things are changing, Bob. They need to change. The Council especially. When the time comes, you might find that I have more say in your sentence than I do now."

"And you would release me," said Bob, incredulously.

Morningway shrugged. "As I said, I admit I can't break your curse. Only alleviate it for a time."

"And why would I believe you hold such knowledge?" asked the ghost. His pale face remained cold, expertly hiding the painful scar of hope that Morningway's words had prodded.

"Because it's the truth," Justin replied. He stripped his face of the thin lenses, leaving his eyes naked. "I am not lying to you." The revealed green eyes remained open, inviting the ghost to study him for any traces of guile. To Bob's great disturbance, he looked honest. The hope that had remained an aching pinpoint in the cursed spirit's chest pushed outward, despite all efforts. It ate at the better parts of Bob's soul and selfishly expanded. Morningway smiled at the effect. "So talk to Harry. Wish him well. And tell him it doesn't hurt to trust me."

Despite having a room that was nearly the size of the entire floor, Harry found all he needed could be fitted into one suitcase and one backpack. He'd finished packing an hour ago and now had about 8 hours to kill before he would be walking out of the place he'd called his home for however long. Maybe forever. The thought was exciting as well as oddly frightening, leaving him with a lot of nervous energy and almost zero chance for sleep.

It was close to eleven at night and the rest of the house was quiet as Harry wandered downstairs. He noticed a faint glow under the door of the library. As he was pretty sure his uncle had gone to bed, that only left one other person who would be busy in the library. Plus, the glow looked fairly familiar. Soundlessly, he pushed the door open and saw Bob standing with his back to Harry. The ghost was staring at the golden lettering he'd drawn in the air. The spell was half written out and looked inarguably complex as most of Bob's spells did.

"Which part of the asset are you stuck on?" Harry asked, jokingly as he knew there was no way he'd be able to assist the spirit.

Bob spun around, his face illuminated by the glowing letters. "Harry? I thought you'd gone to bed."

The young wizard flopped down on the leather couch. "Couldn't sleep," he said. "So what's that?" he asked, pointing.

The ghost looked back at his writing, as if he'd forgotten about it. "An old spell of mine I was reworking. It's not that important." Bob waved his hand through the words and they dissolved away, drowning the room in darkness. Knowing where the freestanding candles were located around the library, Harry gestured to them and the room was soon basked in a soft glow.

"I take it you've finished packing?" asked Bob.

"Yup. Checked and rechecked."

"Did you remember the staff your uncle gave you?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, envisioning it awkwardly sticking out of his backpack. As a parting gift, his uncle had given Harry a newly made staff. It was constructed especially for him out of dark wood, finely polished and intricately carved. It was an elegant, classically designed piece of artwork and so very not Harry. "It'll make a great host gift for when I go to Japan."

"Harry."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Harry assured. "I know Uncle Justin got it made especially for me. I'll take care of it."

"Is Asia your first stop out of the United States?" asked the ghost.

"South America first," said Harry, eagerly. "I want to check out Machu Picchu. Have you heard of it? It's supposed to take days to climb, but once you get up there." The wizard breathed, imagining it. "The space. Man, I can't wait for all that space." Bob gave a faint, cheerless smile at the unabashed longing in his former student's voice. "And then I'll head over to Asia. You know that there're places that are still just pure land in South Korea? Tucked away villages where people don't even bother with electricity half the time, Bob. Perfect place for me, right?" Harry grinned widely, his excited mood unabated.

"And when do you intend on returning?"

The grin faded into something more guarded. "I don't know," Harry answered, running a hand over the soft leather of the couch. "Eventually, though," he said with more openness, giving Bob a fond look. "Gotta visit you. Who else is going to help me keep up with my Latin. And besides," he added with more resignation. "Uncle Justin'll probably track me down all the way to the outskirts of the Australian outback if I don't turn up."

"Harry," the ghost sighed.

"What? What's with the frown?"

"Is it…is it really so terrible that your uncle wishes for you to come home eventually?"

"No, I mean, it's not that I resent knowing I'll have a place to come back to, but…well, you know what he's like," Harry explained. "It's his rules or nothing."

There was a moment of silence that stretched on, unnoticed by Harry as the young man lost himself a little in brooding on his overbearing guardian. He missed the variety of emotions that chased themselves across his old tutor's face before it resettled back to its usual composure. Finally, Bob broke the quiet.

"Harry, as difficult as your uncle is, he's only attempting to do what is best for you. It's his duty to you as your guardian."

"Yeah, I know," Harry admitted, staring off to the abandoned chalkboard in the corner.

"And if he asks you home….it's because he wants to secure your place amongst your peers."

The wizard looked up from his musing of the chalkboard. "You think so?"

Bob nodded, unsmiling. "He has told me as much." Harry made a noncommittal sound, his eyes shifting back toward the corner. "And despite everything, Harry, he is your family."

Pressing his lips together, the younger man crossed his arms in thought. "I know you're right," Harry said. "I just wish things weren't so…I with him." Bob nodded in strong agreement that was lost on the wizard. "But you're right. He is my uncle. And he's the only family I have. When he asks, I know I'll come back. And I'll try a little harder. I'll just complain a lot more about it to anyone who'll listen to balance it out," he added, chuckling. Glancing up at the ghost again, the chuckle soon died. "Bob? What's up?"

"Nothing."

"You look…what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Bob assured. The intense look he had been giving his old pupil had faded, but the echo of it was still obviously disturbing Harry, whose concern only threatened the look's return. "I only wish you a good trip."

Harry's frown slowly smoothed out, as if he was comprehending and shifted into a fond smile. "I wish you were coming with me."

"Don't wish that," argued Bob, quickly. "This is your time to be independent. Enjoy it. You deserve it."

"All the same."

"Thank you," the ghost said, shortly. He moved away from the couch and closer to where his skull sat, trying to put distance between them lest the self-hatred that was mounting up in him spilled over to be apparent.

But Harry's mind seemed to have innocently concluded something else entirely. "I'll miss you too, Bob." And while his conclusion was also truth, it was mixed up in a greater conflict in Bob's mind. "And I'll be back before you know it. Really."

The ghost forced himself to give Harry a smile. "Yes, I know," he replied.

The next morning, a taxi arrived to usher Harry to the airport. He bid his uncle a warm goodbye, surprising the man by giving him a spur of the moment hug. As the taxi pulled away, he looked to the windows of the library and saw a figure half hidden by the reflecting glass. But he knew the slash of white hair anywhere and raised a hand in goodbye as the car exited down the driveway.

Justin Morningway found the ghost staring out the window when he entered the library after locking the front door. "Talk go well last night?" he asked.

"For you, yes," the spirit reported, dispassionately.

Morningway's lips quirked into a half smile. "For you as well, then."

Bob didn't reply and Morningway soon moved back to his study. The ghost hated himself for speaking on Morningway's behalf last night instead of using the time to tell Harry how proud he was of him. And he hated himself in knowing that if he was given last night again, he would do the same thing.

The house felt empty. Harry was gone. Gone to see the world and bask in his new found freedom. How proud he was of Harry. And how he hated him. To be able to walk the world. And all he wanted was to be able to walk out of this infernal house on his own.

Love mixed with envy. And envy had helped feed his hope in Morningway's words to him earlier. And it had given birth to a new kind of selfishness. Staring out into the empty driveway, a mere few feet away, but well beyond his reach, the ghost tightened his grip on his own forearms.

"Hell. This is hell," he murmured.

THE END