Disclaimer: This is a Dresden Files fan fiction based on The Dresden Files TV series. The Dresden Files TV series is owned by the Sci-Fi Channel… correction, it's now completely owned by Lionsgate (Yay! Lionsgate) until the year 2012 when the rights revert back to Jim Butcher. The Dresden Files TV series is based on the books by Jim Butcher.

The Testimony

'Morgan, please…'

Bob was growing exasperated. He knew why The High Coucnil Warden was ignoring him but now was not the time. Harry was on the run. They were looking for him, hunting for him and they would find him.

Bob knew this from experience. His memory was all to keen as he recalled back to that terrible day as he and Winifred fled through the forest. They were the hunted. The arrow had been poisoned. Winifred died for a second time. She died in his arms. He had been so grief stricken that he never saw it coming when the axe came down behind him. The memory was sharp and precise. He could never forget. Ever.

Now Bob knew that Dresden's sentence would be no where near as severe as his own had been- doomed for all eternity- trapped inside his own skull. Bob was merely a projection. A soul bound forever. Unable to touch the world and forced to obey whomever owned his skull. That fate was not what they had in mind for Dresden. No. They would merely kill him unless…

'Morgan, I am begging you. For once, just once listen to me…' Never had he been so frustrated with his inability to affect the world. Never had he wanted to grab someone so badly to force them to acknowledge him. Morgan was trying a little too hard to ignore him.

Donald Morgan was kneeling next to where the body of Justin Morningway had falling. The mortal authorities would classify this as a heart attack but they were not of the mortal authorties. The three other wardens were investigating the mansion and would soon find Justin Morningway's collection of Black Magick artifacts.

Wardens had already been sent out to hunt down Harry Dresden. Donald Morgan was a tall man with dark skin and fierce eyes. He might have even been considered physically attractive. He was a cool minded and by-the-book officer of magical law. A true, tough skinned Warden of The High Council.

He was young yet and Donald Morgan was still new to things but his mind and heart had already started to harden from the difficulty of the job. He felt oddly betrayed by what Dresden had done to this member of the Senior Council, his own uncle, and on the very night that Dresden was going to be invited into The High Council. This was the ultimate betrayal. Morgan was furious. He was silently promising never to trust the likes of Dresden again. Dresden, himself, would be dealt with soon enough.

Morgan wanted to blame someone. He knew the ghost's story- The Necromancer whose history was that of dark gray magick just narrowly avoiding the wrath of the council until that one day he transgressed and crossed the line, several times.

The old spirit had tempted Dresden, corrupted him. And once you use black magick you always go back to it. Dresden was tainted now, unsalvageable. And he needed to be put down like the animal Morgan was certain he would become.

Morgan had been ignoring the ghost's pleas for several minutes now. He was half-tempted to command it back into the skull but the last plea… Something about it, the imploring… Morgan wasn't used to hearing that from the spirit. The snarky old spectre he had come to loathe, the proud old thing that hadn't even broken after over a thousand years of what was to be a sentence of eternal enslavement.

Hearing the humbled begging of the spirit reached something inside that was nearly dead, in Morgan. Finally he turned to look at the spectre and for the only time he did not see the dead and damned soul of Hrothbert of Bainbridge. No. Instead what he saw was a pitiful old man whose eyes seemed weak and weary in the daylight that poured in from the window.

Bob had not been elderly when he died but he had not been young either. Fifty-five was a fairly old age for the year 900 AD but not for wizards. Wizards could last quite a long time. He was white haired and his eyes were aqua. His suit was semi-modern. A three piece black suit with barely noticeable pinstripes. The ghost was very good at keeping up the illusion of being an actual, living man. Around each wrist was a metallic bracelet with sigils carved in it decreeing the damned spirit's sentence and holding him bound to the skull by chains Morgan could not actually see but he knew they were there.

Morgan was not used to that expression on the ghost's face. The desperation he saw there was startling. He reminded himself that the ghost could will himself to look any way he chose and he was choosing to convey that image but the question was why would such a proud being make himself appear so pitiful and pathetic?

Morgan put a hand to his forehead, the fingertips resting at his temples. He spoke in his usual cool, stern tone. 'If I allow you to testify at the trial do you promise to shut up?'

The relief was exquisite. Would Morgan really help him? Bob nodded. 'Y-yes…'

Morgan got up. He walked over to the skull and placed his hand on the cranium as he gave the command. 'Get in your skull, ghost.'

Bob eagerly obeyed. He felt the pull of the invisible chains, tugging at the manacle bracelets at his wrists, or what seemed to be his wrists anyway, (his entire form was illusionary) and there was something not-unlike pain but he allowed it to pull him along. He descended into the skull.

Morgan picked up the skull and carrying it as if it were a precious piece of evidence (and it sort of was) he took it from the mansion. Mai wanted the skull at the trial anyway. It was the one witness who could be forced, with certainty, to tell the truth and therefore, yes, the skull was a valuable piece of evidence…

Two days later:

Bob watched quietly. It was hard to keep focus from within the skull, to force himself to 'see' through the empty eye sockets as if his eyes remained. It was hard to keep conscious from within there but he had to. This was important.

A young-looking Asian woman sat as judge before two cloaked wizards who stood on either side of a defendant. The defendant was trapped within a binding circle. She had long red hair that flowed freely over her shoulders. Her hands were manacled together and the chain of the manacles was looped through a chain-link belt locked around her waist to keep her from raising her hands past her navel.

Her gown was torn from the obvious struggle that had happened before her capture. She was very pretty but her lips were covered in something that only vaguely resembled duct tape. It was a glowing substance that formed a perfect seal over her mouth. A magical binding to keep her from using her voice to thrall. Bob recognized her as being a siren.

Ancient Mai spoke. 'Marlinda, you have been found guilty of thralling boatmen and luring them to their deaths off the coast of Lake Michigan. However, because you confessed to your crimes, you will be granted a lighter sentence. Do you have anything to say to the court?' The smile on Mai's face was positively vicious.

The woman, unable to make a sound, glared at her in defiance.

'Then I hereby sentence- for the safety of others- that you never again be allowed the chance to thrall. Your voice will be taken from you.' She looked to the men on either side of her. 'Her vocal cords are to be cut out with an iron scalpel. Then remove her tongue in the same fashion, all of it, leave not the slightest stub. After that, as a reminder, her lips are to be sewn shut with unbreakable thread. Take her away.'

The siren's eyes went wide with horror. She shook her head desperately against the fate of a maimed mute, unable to speak or eat- though being an immortal being it was hardly necessary for her survival. She started to put up a struggle. The men had broken the binding circle and had caught her by each arm and started to drag her from the court.

That was a little bit of over kill, wasn't it? Just to keep a siren quiet?

As if Mai could hear his thoughts from within his skull she said 'One must be thorough in cases such as these.'

Two other cloaked wizards dragged Harry Dresden into the room. Apparently Dresden had somehow gained the assistance of Bianca, the vampire, and she had helped him to get passage out of Chicago however the Wardens had caught up with him before he could succeed in leaving. Whether they had been tipped off by someone was anyone's guess. Bob would not know of Bianca's involvement in the attempted escape of Dresden until later.

Even now Bob knew Dresden. Bob knew who it was immediately from the height of the wizard. Harry was over six feet tall, that was taller than Bob's own impressive six feet statue (well, it had been impressive when he was alive…)

Harry Dresden was bound with magick restraining manacles much the way the siren had been and his head was entirely covered with a black hood. Bob took this as a bad sign but he knew what it meant. High Council trials rarely ended with a 'not guilty' verdict.

It was always easier to find someone guilty and sentence them to death if you did not have to look at the condemned in the eyes. The execution was eminent. No one anticipated that Dresden might be found not guilty. If Bob had a stomach it would have been doing summersaults. He felt the phantom presence of such an ill-at-ease sensation as to be equitable to that.

The trial was swift. It did not bode well for Dresden.

And then finally the 'surprise evidence,' not surprise witness but surprise evidence. Bob knew he was just an object to them but sometimes he wished that someone would treat him as a person. The skull was carried to the front of the room and placed near enough to the witness stand so that Bob could at least appear to be in the proper place of a witness when he emerged.

He was ordered from his skull. He felt the pull that drew him out. The sense that his entire being was being tugged up and out.

The amber light emerged from one of the eye sockets. It rose up and out of the skull and hovered with dark hazy smoke trailing behind it. The light and smoke faded and from the light took the form of Bob's head and then the rest of his body, still wearing the dark suit from the other day. The ghost did know how to change such things as his clothes but he often wore similar suits anyway so it did not matter.

'Hrothbert of Bainbridge,' Mai said 'You are obligated by command of The High Council to speak nothing but the truth as you testify here today. Is that understood?'

Bob nodded. 'Completely.'

Out of old nervous habit his left hand toyed with the manacle bracelet of his right wrist. He would fumble with his own non-real rings next. The only things he could interact with were manifestations of his own creation such as his clothes and illusionary body, save for the manacle bracelets which he had no choice but to wear.

'Tell us exactly what happened when Justin Morningway was murdered.'

'It was not murder.' Bob protested. He had to choose his words carefully. Even though he had been commanded to tell the truth now and he was helpless to do otherwise he knew they would never believe that Dresden had merely fallen on the Voodoo doll during the struggle. They would think somehow their hold upon this damned spirit was faltering. Even if they did believe the truth, it was still taking a life with Black Magick anyway.

'It was… self defense…' He realized how ridiculous it sounded immediately after he said it.

Ancient Mai sneered. 'You expect me to believe he was "self-defensed to death?'

Bob had to think fast. 'Morningway was not as you thought he was. He was planning to over throw the council, to wage war on the magical governing body and replace it with his own Black Council. He meant to use Dresden as his weapon. He had murdered Dresden's father right under your noses!'

There was an instant uproar of murmurs and gasps from all around. They couldn't believe it. Betrayed by one of their own Senior members of the High Council. Justin Morningway had been a very high ranking member of The High Council.

'Order! Order!' Mai shouted.

The room fell quiet.

Bob cleared his throat though he really had no need to. 'He meant for the boy to be his ultimate weapon against you. Dresden confronted his uncle on having murdered his father after finding that very doll and his father's ring in Morningway's possession. When Morningway realized Dresden would not side with him he sought to kill him. A sharp shaft of wood flew for Dresden and Dresden's only available weapon was the doll in his hand with the ring.'

It was more or less the truth. Bob had just chosen to leave out certain details, such as, Dresden dropping to the floor to avoid the shaft of wood is what caused him to squeeze the ring into the doll. He also left off the full details of the struggle between Justin and Harry in which Harry had threatened to use the doll against Morningway and did use it to try to pry answers from him about his mother's death.

With no evidence to the contrary that it was no self-defense The High Council had no choice other than to spare Dresden's life. It was Bob's testimony that saved him. Many were displeased that he was being released. They did not like that he was allowed to live and they certainly were not about to forgive what he had done. Many would be just waiting for him to slip up in order to fulfill what they felt should have happened today.

The trial was over. Bob stood near to the skull as he watched Dresden being released from his restraints. The hood had been removed first. The official reason for the hood was to prevent Dresden from thralling them but Dresden had never had a knack for such things.

'Morgan,' Mai said 'Take the skull back to headquarters until we can find a suitable keeper to entrust with it.'

Bob knew what that meant. It meant he would be confined to a dark, lonely vault at the High Council Headquarters for months, if not years, a forgotten and dangerous artifact.

Morgan stepped toward the skull to do his task.

'No!' It was Dresden. Bob turned to look at him. He was surprised. Why would Dresden speak up for him now that he knew his part in helping Morningway? Sure he had no choice in the matter but Dresden would never see it that way.

'My uncle left everything to me, right? That includes Bob.'

Everyone looked at Dresden perplexed. Dresden was the only one who had ever called him Bob. To everyone else he was Hrothbert of Bainbridge or The Ghost or worse yet The Skull.

Ancient Mai looked annoyed.

'That means I get to keep Bob. I'm not guilty of any crime so you have no right to take him away from me.' Dresden knew he was pushing it and Mai was positively glaring now. Her face slipped. The human eyes became red, her face taking a more reptilian quality briefly. Then she seemed to regain control. 'Very well…'

'Dresden can't be trusted!' Morgan protested. 'You can't entrust the skull with him! The skull is a time bomb. If it gets into the wrong hands-'

'I have made my decision.' Mai said. The truth was Mai was cunning and she saw several ways this could work to her benefit. Hrothbert of Bainbridge would act as a cautionary tale of what could happen to those who use black magick, a means of keeping Dresden in line. Also if Hrothbert was foolish enough to teach Dresden any new Black magick and Dresden was to use it or if Hrothbert tempted Dresden to use Black Magick again then she would have ample reason to take his head question having to give a second thought. Either way it worked out for her.

Dresden took the skull in his hands. He shuddered as he thought of what almost happened to him in the courtroom if not for Bob.

Bob walked beside Harry. He shuddered as he thought of what might have happened to him back there if not for Harry.

'Get in your skull, ghost.'

Bob bowed his head and dissolved from view and compressed into a mass of glittering amber light surrounded in dark haze that rose up and then descended down into the skull. He loathed the command but was relieved that he was going home with Harry Dresden.

It would be a very long time before Dresden would trust him again but that was all right because Bob knew, deep, down inside… Harry, the boy he had helped to raise, loved him and needed him…

The End