A/N: I'm really just thrilled how well this story was received. Originally it was to be posted all at once as a single chapter. But as I started working on it and fleshing it out, it simply became too big and I broke it into three separate chapters.

I hope you still enjoy it after this chapter and will come back for other stories.

As at the start of any of my reading relationships, I will let you know up front, I generally post just once a week, on Sunday's, between 6-10PM EST.

And as always,

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Where as I do not own anything dealing with The Dresden Files, I do own this plot.

CHAPTER TWO: FAULT (PART TWO)

Harry slowed his steps considerably as he approached the house, trying to gage his uncle's mood. But a small tap in the back, which for him was much like someone dropping an ice cube down his shirt, prodded him forward.

Harry had learned early on that , while he couldn't touch his mentor, Bob could interact with him physically through a series of light, near touches which would feel like someone running ice over his skin. It wasn't the most pleasant of feelings, but Harry had soon gotten use to it and had actually come to crave the small signs of affection as the only physical ones he was ever shown by anyone in the household.

Turning briefly to the spirit, Bob gave him a small, reassuring smile.

"Always best to face it head on and get it over with." Bob advised in a whispered voice.

But knowing it wasn't fair to send the young boy in on his own to face his uncle's temper, Bob took up station directly behind Harry, ready to deflect Morningway's anger as best he could if things got too out of hand.

But to his surprise, the man seemed positively pleasant to the boy as they approached.

"Harry," his uncle addressed him, all but ignoring the man behind him, "isn't it a bit late for you to be out roaming about?"

The boy said nothing in reply, unsure of the situation.

"Well?" Morningway ask again.

"Harry and I went out for a brief walk." Bob offered calmly. Something about the man's demeanor was making him uneasy.

"Till this hour?" Came the short reply.

"We lost track of the time." Bob replied. He could positively feel the tension in the air around the man now, growing by the second. Whatever face he wore, it was a mask to what lay beneath. There was simply no way under heaven Bob could or would leave Harry alone with his uncle when the man was masking this much anger.

"That's a serious oversight on your part, Hrothbert." The man replied, his voice now dropping to an artic chill. "I don't want my nephew out wandering around so late at night without protection. Harry is simply too valuable to risk losing."

"I wasn't without protection." The boy spoke up. "Bob was with me."

Morningway turned his eyes to his young nephew. "A small consolation." He replied dryly. "What good is a bodyguard who can't lay a finger on your assailant? Your protector would have been useless, Harry."

The boy's own temper started to rise. Something Bob felt was definitely not a good thing as he took a step closer to the boy.

"Bob's not useless." Harry defended strongly, stepping up in front of his uncle, once again putting several feet between himself and Bob. "He could have taken on anyone who tried to hurt me. And I know magic. I can protect myself."

Morningway now turned his full attention to the boy standing before him. "Know magical defense, do you?" He ask. "You think you could stand up to wardens from the High Council? Grown men who have been practicing and using magic for more years than you've been alive. And a small child of ten years was going to fight them off?"

A slight chill past through the boy's shoulder, causing him to turn to his mentor.

Moving forward again until he once more was only a hands reach from Harry, Bob placed his hand just slightly above the boy's shoulder, quickly getting his attention. "I think it would be best if you went to bed now, Harry." Bob stated, his eyes never leaving the man standing framed in the light of the doorway before him. "I'll see you in the morning."

Harry glanced up between the two men, trying to gage what was going on. But another small prod to the back urged him forward.

"Go to bed, Harry."

"But Bob..." Harry tried to protest further without pressing his luck too much. Something wasn't right here and every instinct told him that leaving Bob wasn't in the spirit's best interest.

"Bed, Harry. Now." Bob reiterated a bit stronger.

With one last look towards his mentor, Harry slowly started off. He knew the tone well enough by now and there was no further argument as far as his mentor was concerned. As reluctant as he was to leave his friend behind, Bob had made it plain that was exactly what he expected him to do without questions.

As he step away, Harry felt something shift under his coat.

The skull!

A small smile stole to the boy's lips. When he got to the house, he would just summon Bob back to his skull.

But as he past his uncle, Morningway stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Holding out his other hand, he stared down at the boy.

"If you would be so kind as to return my property before you go." He stated coldly.

Too wrapped up in his own thoughts at the moment to think what his uncle was talking about, Harry turned quickly to Bob.

The spirit clandestinely tapped a finger to his head in response.

Immediately understanding the gesture, Harry hesitated as he tried to think of anything that could get him to maintain possession of the skull. But things were moving too fast and he couldn't come up with anything remotely feasible to get his uncle to let him keep it.

Slowly reaching into his jacket, he reluctantly pulled the skull of his mentor out and handed it to his uncle, who took it without so much as a nod.

Hurrying off into the house, Harry mounted the stairs, but only went as far as the first landing, where he quickly hid himself behind a large pedestal as he watched the front door.

Harry knew Bob thought him totally oblivious to the tension running between the two men outside, but nothing could have been further from the truth. Harry had been around his uncle just long enough to have learned to pick up on the subtle clues as to the man's true demeanor under the pleasant mask he usually wore. And the tension outside had been so palatable Harry had nearly found himself dragged into it before Bob had sent him back to the house. And despite how desperately he had wanted to stay with his mentor, it was probably the best thing Bob could have done. Going head to head with his uncle when the man was this angry wasn't going to win him any points with anyone. Not with his uncle for being so foolish as to directly oppose him, and not with his mentor, who would have been forced to clean up the mess afterwards.

After several silent moments went past, his Uncle Justin finally entered the house, walking briskly towards his study. Harry watched for Bob to follow. But when he didn't, Harry figured his uncle must have commanded the spirit back into his skull.

Poor Bob. He deserved so much better than to be treated like a second-hand slave. But that seemed to be all the use Uncle Justin had for him. That and being Harry's mentor. But that part seemed to suit them both just fine. Having had to come to terms with the idea of real magic was hard enough for Harry, having to try and separate the things he had seen his father do on stage as opposed to the things Uncle Justin had shown him when he first told the boy of his true heritage. But Bob had quickly taken over the boy's introduction to this new and intriguing world and had actually made it seem easy to control and work with. No longer something foreign and frightening, Harry soon found himself delving into his magical studies as though it were just another subject at school. And one he found himself enjoying more and more.

A loud slamming of the study door shook Harry out of his wandering thoughts and caused him to nearly jump out of his skin.

Confirmation of his early thoughts came rapidly as he heard his uncle's voice demanding the spirit present himself.

Harry remained where he was, listening intently. And it wasn't long in coming before his question of what was going on behind the closed door of his uncle's study was answered by a loud, angry voice followed closely by a piecing scream of pain.

For the second time in as many minutes Harry nearly jumped clear out of his own skin as the cry cut through the stillness of the house. Hurrying down the stairs as quickly as he could, Harry tried the door but found it locked. He pulled on the handle hard as he heard his uncle's voice shouting in anger, followed by another cry of pure pain.

"You lied!" His uncle demanded. "You deliberately lied for the boy! Now where was he!?"

An agonized shriek was the only answer to the question.

Harry jerked his hands off the door handles as though they were suddenly burning coals.

What in heavens name was going on!?

"Answer me!" Came his uncle's voice again.

Harry lost track of how many times he heard his uncle yell the same statement over and over, and how many times it was consecutively answered with a scream of pain.

Harry had never known his uncle to actually hurt Bob. Yell at him, debase him, insult him, yes. But never had he ever physically hurt the spirit. Till that point, Harry wasn't even sure if Bob could be hurt. But if the cries from beyond the door had been any indication, not only could the spirit feel pain, he could feel it most acutely.

When the shouting and the screaming finally stopped, Harry listened to footsteps approaching the doors to the study.

Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, Harry ran behind another large pedestal in the foyer and hid there.

Seconds later the doors to the study flew open and his uncle stormed out. As mad as the man looked, Harry doubted he have seen him if he had been standing in front of the doors still and had waved at him as he went past. But not really wishing to test his theory, he waited until he heard his uncle climb the stairs and slam his own bedroom door closed before venturing out from his hiding place.

Running silently across the foyer, Harry hurried into the study, totally unprepared for the sight that greeted him.

The room, as always, was in perfect order. His uncle's study was never anything but. Every book, every picture, every scrap of paper neatly in place.

Even the skull was once again in its proper place on his uncle's large oak desk, facing whoever would be sitting in the chair. A position Harry knew only his uncle to ever occupy. To his knowledge, no one else ever sat behind that desk but Justin Morningway.

The only item that was out of place in the pristine setting was the figure lying on the floor.

"Bob!"

Harry made a beeline for the figure. Falling on his knees next to the spirit, Harry reached out and tried to turn him over, but his hands met with the same icy feeling he remembered from months ago when he had first tried to touch the spirit.

Frustrated at his inability to do anything but be a witness to the scene, Harry did the only thing he could think of to relieve the growing anxiety threatening to choke him. He slammed both his hands down on the floor in front of him.

"Bob!" He called again, repeating the gesture for each time he called his friend's name until his hands were red and sore from the effort.

"Bob!" Harry cried once more, but this time pulling his red palmed hands into his lap as he squeezed them into fists and bent over, rocking back and forth as he broke into tears.

"My fault." He sobbed past catches of breath that shook his small body. "It's my fault. If he needed to punish someone, it should have been me. Not you. You didn't do anything wrong. You made me come back. You said you could get into trouble." He went on, choking over each pain filled judgment he laid at his own feet. "I should have come back when you first said to. But no, I had to argue it with you. And so he punishes you for trying to help me. I should have found a way in. I should have forced the doors open. I should have stopped him...told him the truth. And I couldn't even do that. It's all my fault."

Bob came back to full awareness to two constant things. One was the pain that seemed to infuse itself into every cell of his body, such as it was.

The second was the sound of a small child crying next to him, blaming himself with every heart-rending sob for what Morningway had done.

Taking a brief tally of his body, Bob slowly realized he wasn't breathing. That fact alone must have scared the boy half to death. But the sheer superfluous mechanism of drawing air into his body caused him so much agony, that for the moment he had simply let it go, the act serving no other purpose than to increase his pain.

But the pain now was seriously outweighed by the sheer comfort he knew it would give the boy to know he was at least alive in terms Harry could relate to.

Pulling in a slow, agonizing breath, Bob bit his teeth together as the air burned a trail into his body, igniting nerve endings he thought long forgotten as his chest expended in the useless act.

But it served the purpose he wanted it to.

At the sound, the boy stopped his self-recriminating ramblings and focused his attention back on his injured friend.

"Bob!?" Harry cried, immediately leaning over the spirit's collapsed form.

Bob pulled another lungful of air into his body. Dead or alive, you still needed air to talk.

"Get out of here, Harry." He warned the boy. "If Justin comes back and finds you here..."

Harry made a comment regarding his feelings towards his uncle at the moment that, under normal circumstances, would have lead to a very long lecture about language usage. "I'm not leaving you here!" Harry added sharply. "There has to be something I can do."

Bob shook his head as best he could against the polished wood floor. "Go to your room and stay there. Lock the door and don't come out until morning. Let me know at least you're safe until Justin calms down."

Harry answered with a shake of his own head. "I'm not leaving you here. What if he comes back? What if he...if he starts again?"

"To do what?" Bob replied softly. "It isn't like he can kill me, Harry."

Harry paused, not having considered that angle before. If Bob couldn't be killed...again, then his uncle could go on with his abuse indefinitely, never having to worry about killing his victim.

The thought did absolutely nothing to make him feel better about things.

"If he comes back, I'll be ready for him." Harry answered.

A short, pained laugh answered the declaration. "With what? Your superior magical skill?"

Harry balled his fists tighter. "I'm not leaving you here alone." He declared again. "And I'll do whatever I have to, to keep him away from you."

Bob shook his head again. If nothing else, he had to get the boy to leave the room. Slowly maneuvering himself, he managed to get one arm up as he slowly pointed a shaking finger towards the desk.

"If you want to help me," he stated weakly, "then get my skull and bring it here."

Harry scrambled quickly to his feet and retrieved the skull.

Carrying it in both hands, he rushed back across the room and carefully placed it on the floor next to his mentor's body.

"Very good, Harry." Bob stated softly. Reaching out, he laid his hand over the top of the skull. As injured as he was, he needed the physical contact with his earthly home to return to it. "Now once I'm back inside of my skull, you need to put it back on your uncle's desk and do as I've said. Go to your room, lock your door, and stay there until morning."

Harry sat motionless on the floor next to the spirit, watching as he held his hand wrapped about the top of the skull.

A faint shimmer of light, and the body disappeared.

Remaining where he was for a few minutes, Harry waited until he was sure Bob was settled back in his skull. He then stood up, and, reaching down, picked it carefully up off the floor, fearing any un-necessary movement might cause the spirit more pain. And the last thing Harry ever wanted to do was to hurt his mentor.

He knew Bob wouldn't be pleased when he learned that Harry had disobeyed his instructions, but he simply wasn't going to leave the skull vulnerable to his uncle's further tirades.

Turning away from the desk, he tucked the skull gently against his chest and hurried out of the study, heading for the stairs leading to his room.

Q&A

Tenshinanashi:

Ooh, ouch...Morningways waiting up for them.
If I were Harry, I would be extremely unlikely to hand Bob over in to such a hostile situation. I would be all like 'my bob, you can't have him, we're going to bed, goodnight.'
Cute idea--harry trying to take bob and runaway. Keep up the good work. Can't wait for the next part.

It seemed like a good place to end the first chapter.

Unfortunately, poor Harry has no choice in the matter. Bob belongs to his uncle, not him. However, as shown in this chapter, what Harry does clandestinely is another matter all together. Harry is very protective of his new friend, and isn't quite as oblivious to the tension around him as the adults think. And you have to consider that, as an adult, Harry seems to have a very solid relationship with Bob, as that of everything he inherited, he only kept one thing...Bob. He could have just passed him off to the High Counsel and informed them he was their problem and have a nice day.

But he chose to keep him. So that isn't a relationship that grew over night. It had to have grown up with Harry. The kind of relationship I never saw Harry having with his uncle in the brief snippets of their relationship we saw. Justin was...there. Harry was friendly to him...almost to the point of cordiality. But that was about it.

Bob, however, Harry seems to have a genuine, warm affection for.

And Harry didn't just whip the skull out and say, 'Oh, right, sorry. Here you go'. He was very reluctant to give it up, knowing his uncle was upset. He wasn't being punished. His uncle was almost to the point of ignoring him, all his attention focused on Bob.

And again, Harry's not dense. He knew who was going to be punished for the night's events. He just couldn't at the moment think up anything fast enough to prevent it or help his friend.

I liked the comment though. And I could easily see Harry saying that. Even at the tender age of ten.

Well, where's the fun in running away by yourself?

And...once more...not dense. He knew he was going to need help. Who better than a friend?

Burnt Hamster:

I LOVE this story already!
I am dying to hear more! Don't let me die. OO
Can't wait for the next update!

Well, Dear, I would definitely not want a dead burnt hamster on my conscience.

I'm glad you are enjoying the story and thank you for taking the time to review.

Eliabrith:

oh dear that doesn't sound good hope you post chapter two soon.
I love the relationship you're building between YoungHarry and Bob and the fact that Harry took Bob with him to 'rescue' him.

E-ly-ah...

El-e-ah...

Eli-ah...

(PAR tosses off her copy of Name Pronunciation Made Easy.)

I'll work on it later.

Anyway, foreshadowing is one of my fortes, Dear. If it sounds bad, it probably will be.

From what little we've been given, I think there's acres and acres of fertile field here to work with regarding Harry's relationship to Bob. My basic take on the situation is that Justin Morningway took Harry in as nothing more than a tool for his own ends. He killed the boy's parents to get him, for heavens sake. He must have wanted him awfully badly. Now, in my opinion, if you want to influence someone, why not just become a favorite uncle and visit a lot? Morningway just took things to the extreme.

But Harry was, as said, nothing more than a tool. And you don't get warm and cuddly with your tools...well, some people do, but those are different sorts of stories, folks.

So, Justin has this wonderful, powerful tool that just happens to also need raising, educating, feeding and attention. And watching! Lots and lots of watching. But what do you do when you're not exactly in line for 'Parent of the Year' this go round?

You hand it off to the next available caretaker.

Enter Bob.

Bob is available, he's educated himself, he's bored, and he's a captive audience for the boy. It's not like he can go anywhere.

And Bob seems to like Harry.

Problem solved.

Justin happily fades into the background to scheme for the next eight years or so and Bob stands there looking down at all four foot one of his future eight years.

I figure they must have been an interesting eight years indeed.

Lots of good story material. (PAR happily runs off to make some more notes.)

Weeeelllllllllllllllllll..., 'rescue' is a strong word. More of a 'I know I'm bound to need help here. Who can I trust to give that to me without too much trouble? Oh! Right! Bob!'

And skulls are so...portable.

ScathingSarcasm:

Its always good to see some Harry-Bob fluff, even the platonic kind. Interesting take you've made on Bob; hes not QUITE in character, but you've given him your own touch, and I can't say I'm opposed to Kind!Bob. So, I'll definetly be looking forward to the next chapter.
. You had to leave me in suspense...!

Sorry to rearrange you, Dear. I'm pressed for space here.

I love Harry/Bob fluff, and platonic is the only kind you'll find in my stories, so read without fear.

I also do some pretty cute Harry/Sirius fluff over in the Harry Potter category. Harry is way to cute as a baby for me to ignore. And equally, I can work pretty well with a ten year old Harry Dresden, although I would have preferred a bit younger. Six or seven would have done me better. But, oh well. Can't have everything.

Well, keep in mind, Bob is also dealing with a ten year-old child here, not a jaded thirty-something adult. Whoooole different ballgame. So I thought he would do well to be a bit more...tempered with the sarcasm. But it's still there. You just have to look a little harder.

I prefer the word 'cliff hanger'.

kari:

Oo why must you leave me in suspense . . can't wait for chapter two.

You and Scathing Sarcasm should get together. You both have this thing for suspense.

And once again...I prefer 'cliff hanger'. Not leaving you in suspense, Dear. Leaving you with a proper cliff hanger. Perfectly viable writing tool.

DominoFalling:

This is great, I love the way you have captured the characters of Bob the surrogate parent and Harry the lost bereaved boy. Please write more soon, I am looking forward to finding out more about this duo's early adventures.
Well done and thank you.

Well, Bob the surrogate parent I'll give you, but I didn't think I put too much anguish into Harry to qualify for the lost bereaved child thing going. At least not in this story...yet. Give it some time.

I am working on several stories right now with a young Harry and Bob. I like the set up and feel there's just tons of material here to keep me happy for a few months at least. Especially when Harry first came under his uncle's care. Now THERE you have a lost bereaved child. Poor Bob. How he must have felt having that dumped on him after so many peaceful years.

(High Council) "Here, Bob. This child just watched his only living parent die. See what you can do with him and we'll be checking back in a week or so, OK?"

(As the door slams shut, Bob quickly whips out the latest book on child psychology and starts reading at record breaking speed.)

Actually, I think Bob would have handled Harry pretty well in those first days. Children seemed to have a built in natural understanding of sarcasm and irony, and they appreciate the bluntness of each.

Thank you ever so much, Dear, for the appraisal and the review.

All reviews are as of 05/13/2007.

And remember;

To all mothers out there, young and old, and especially to my own beloved mother, who puts up with my moods, my quirks, my endless requests for help, and my blatant refusal to cut those apron strings, Happy Mother's Day! May it be all you hope for and more.

Thanks, Mom!