21

The days went as Ron spent his time locked up in his house without any signs of Lowell. Those days turned to weeks and he was a little weary about stepping outside of the bedroom fearful that he'll find a bunch of cadavers littering the foyer. He was going mad staying put however. The enchanted calendar face watched him daily and every night he would check off the day. He'd been there nearly two months. Half of which Lowell was absent.

Maxson was as nice as could be expected. The House elf accommodated any of Ron's fancies, which was nice at times. He ended up getting some new things for Barry because he asked and at some point Lowell had told Maxson, obviously making it very clear, to take care of his son.

For the first few days he had eaten in the dining room, but that slowly ceased and then after that he brought a book upstairs and had not returned to the library afterwards. As he finished it he wondered if Maxson wouldn't take it down and bring one back up.

Ron kept himself optimistic for a while... He was glad that no one bothered him or cursed his name, but the emptiness of such a large house started to get him. September rolled into October and Ron started wishing his captor would make a stunning return so he knew he was alive and capable of returning to free him. Maybe by forcing him away that night he'd inadvertently screwed himself over.

However, with the progression of time came the progression of Barry. Ron had fretted more over his safety than anything, but Lowell had seemed glad to have a son. It reminded him of when they walked through town and Lowell watched the children and tykes in strollers with such yearning. The man wanted a family.

Ron loved watching Ambrose slowly learn to roll over and kick his feet like he might make a run for it. Luckily he still had some time before that. Barry also liked holding conversations babbling up at Ron during bath time. He held the washcloth while Ron poured water over him to get rid of the suds. Ron found it enjoyable just the two of them and had become so thoroughly integrated into his life remaining in the sizable room that he found it hard to imagine why he'd ever want to leave. Certainly not to return to the burrow so Arthur could convince him of how much of a failure he was.

When Ambrose was exactly six months near the end of October Ron decided he'd celebrate by going to the dining room to eat for supper. Maxson had been quite surprised when Ron told him this and then he asked what special food was to be had, but Ron assured him that whatever they were supposed to have in the room that evening would do just as well in the dining room.

He was allowed out only with the aid of the house elf and he had Barry up on his side and he shook his rattling wristband. The baby gabbed the whole way down and squealed with delight when Ron stated, "Someone knows it's a special day".

When he pulled on the dining room door he was greeted with several figures seated around the table. He had simply assumed that Lowell had departed from the house while having bigger and bitter things to do, but there he was, discussing something or other. The others at the table did not even turn to look at him and Ron was beginning to assume that Lowell had murdered them while they slept and they were ghosts now. Except that was a silly idea.

From the far end up at the head of the table Lowell sat with pieces of parchment in front of him. There was a quill that reminded Ron of the one that he's seen while at the house in Ottery. He was writing on one of the sheets while the man seated at his right elbow insistently spoke as he jabbed his pointer finger into the table. Ron expected a finely shaped divot to be bore into the table by the end of the night. He caught sight of Mulciber on Lowell's left with a goblet in hand and a grim look on his face, but when had he ever looked chipper?

"I hear what you're saying," Lowell stated, "but I can't assure you that it won't cause mild damages to personal property."

The man closest in relation to Ron at the table cried, "Then I bloody don't want that near me shop now do I?"

"It's a dangerous business and they are dangerous wares, so you get what you pay for and hope for the best," Mulciber stated with his lips drawn in a nearly perfect line.

For a moment there was silence and Ron feared that wands would be drawn and that there would be a fight, but the man at Lowell's elbow grabbed at the parchment and pulled out, "where'd this come from?"

Lowell snatched it back and said, "I'll let you know when I'm paid."

Ron shifted unsteadily so far no one had noticed him yet, but his anxiety was getting the better of him and he was worried about moving too much. Their business discussions continued up until Lowell called for Maxson. The house elf had vanished to the kitchens to fix something for Ron and Barry. When Maxson appeared with a tray covered in sandwiches and a kettle the men began gathering more drinks and eating as though it had been too long since their last meal. It was when Lowell poured his tea that he finally glanced up and saw the aloof teenager at the end of the room. "Hullo, Ronald. You must be in need of something if you came all this way. Maxson said you quite like having your meals brought up."

All the other occupants at the table had turned to investigate the intruder. Ron stepped back and Lowell rose from his chair. One of the men asked none to discreetly, "who's the kid?"

"That's Lowell's catamite," Mulciber stated with a swig of something that had not percolated in a kettle.

Several of the men chuckled, but the one closest had turned sharply and eyes leered at him as if he'd done something wrong by the bloke. "And the baby?"

"That's my little boy Ambrose," Lowell said as he moved out from between his large chair and the fine dining table. He crossed the room in quick strides until he was right upon Ron and his face came up to Ron's in a moment of strange passion Lowell's hand wrapped about the back of his head and their lips met in a fierce sort of kiss that Ron had not been expecting.

Lowell then took Ambrose out of Ron's arms and slipped a wand from its holster. A chair was transfigured into a high chair and then a napkin into a cushion for his head-just the way Ron set up the chair. He took a few steps forward and hoped that he was allowed. Hey we're obviously on about business and he may not be invited. For a moment no one shifted aside from Lowell situated a squirming gabbing Barry. Ron finally found his chair and Lowell announced, "It's a fine idea! A feast! We'll enjoy a big meal and then be off to settle the negotiations once we are all in a better and fuller state."

Lowell pushed Ron's chair in further once he was seated and then he placed his hand overtop the boy's before going back to his seat at the head of the table. Maxson was called upon once more. Lowell professed his wants and hurriedly the creature was gone with a snap. Ron felt apprehensive with the men seated around the table. They seemed intrigued and watched him for a moment before watching Ambrose. Lowell took his seat again and hovered a cup alongside the kettle towards him. The others had taken it and even Lowell himself so Ron believed it wasn't poisoned-hopefully.

The food was brought for them to consume with fervor. Ron was reluctant to enjoy the meal alongside a room full of shifty men. The plates floated in a line until they reached their places before the person. Then the food platters and dishes rode along the table like a train, stopping whenever someone reached over it. The room filled with cutlery scraping and gobs smacking.

One of the men asked, "What's gotten into you then?"

Lowell inquired, "Depends on what you mean."

"I mean you're hospitality."

Lowell snorted and his eyes fell over Ron's. "Feeling generous."

Ron wasn't sure if he should be frightened by this or what. Was he implying something? That he was more than generous enough for Ron? In a way it was quite true. The man sheltered him and fed him. He gave Barry anything he needed with little thought. This was practically the perfect life and Ron took it for granted that he'd want nothing in return. What he did want, Ron was quite sure he didn't want to give. More scenarios that played out as they had in Ottery ran through his mind. If Ron were to have any further encounters then he hoped they were with Severus when the time was right. He only wished Lowell would allow it.

The man who scared him most, but happened to be the closest, turned towards him and with a sneer on his face and asked, "What's your business?"

"Don't… I don't really have one," Ron said quietly and tried his best not to look at him.

Lowell pointed the butt of his fork at the man and said, "Taking care of Ambrose, obviously."

While the others chuckled or grunted, this man said, "Bugger off. You ain't kidding then, Mulciber? The boy's really Lowell's?"

Ron wanted to point out that he wasn't, but he was in Lowell's house with eating Lowell's food while sleeping in one of Lowell's rooms. He'd given birth to Lowell's son. Ron did not acknowledge the statement and went to feeding Barry some of his favorite, pureed pears. He could still feel the man's eyes on him and didn't hear him moving. Soon, he'd be grabbing the food himself and eating solids. Ron concentrated on that. The cutlery scrapes began again. This was unsettling, even more so than having all his meals brought to the bedroom. All the men around the table were shady characters. They were running some sort of business and Ron was almost certain, if Lowell and Mulciber's statements meant anything, that it was a nasty business.

They finished up and Lowell asked if anyone was interested in desert, but the offer was declined by all parties. Ron watched them all begin to rise and slowly they made their way towards the entrance of the dining room. Mulciber showed them the way out and from there, Ron didn't know where they went, but Lowell stayed behind and came up beside Ron. There was something about the way he lingered… Lowell's hand rested on Ron's shoulder and he went rigid. He'd already stolen a kiss.

"I wouldn't let them hurt you or our son," Lowell said slowly. "I wanted you to think about that. I want you to do an awful lot of thinking, but I also know that I need to as well."

Ron's heart sank back in his ribcage and he frowned when the hand was removed and Lowell's footfalls disappeared through the doorway. What was that supposed to mean? Was he in trouble? Would Lowell kick him from his house or simply murder him? Ron shook for a moment and took a drink of water from the glass in front of him.

Σ

That night, when Ron tucked the baby in for bed he heard a rather unexpected knock. Neither Lowell, nor Maxson anymore, knocked to gain access into the room. Barry's lips twitched initially, but he didn't wake up. Ron was not sure if he was expected to answer. He approached the door and pulled it open. It was Lowell and he had his hands behind his back and had changed into a rather unimpressive pair of trousers. "Business wrapped up quite nicely. Sold about ten galleons worth of wares. Good day indeed. Bloody fool thought the chest was worth that. I wouldn't give a knut."

The way he spoke made Ron feel as if he should be aware of what exactly he was referencing. Obviously the little meeting he had been holding in the dining room, but Ron did not know that Lowell was some sort of merchant. Dangerous merchant if memory served him correct. Lowell stepped in by him and crossed the room towards the crib. His face lowered and a smirk grew over his rough features. Then, when Ron turned and began to walk in the same direction, Lowell's face rose and his eyes fell on him. "You done thinking?"

"I... would be, erm… If I was certain about what it was I'm supposed to be thinking."

Lowell reached his hand into the crib and stroked his thumb across Barry's cheek and his face softened further. "We could be a right proper family."

Ron blinked and stopped just a step away from the crib. "Proper family?"

The man nodded. His dark as dusk eyes shifted from the baby to him once more. "Exactly, I've been thinking… and I know it's sort of a rush for the two of us, but you should move into the Master's rooms with me and we'll set up a room right outside for Ambrose. It's been so long since we were as close as we once were, back last summer, so I don't expect you to be as comfortable as you were before, but with some time I sure you're affection will come back."

That was what Lowell felt had drove a wedge between them? Ron twiddled his thumbs for a moment and couldn't think of anything to say. He was being murdered, but this was not something he wanted either. A proper family? What was that? Two people who loved one another and maybe popped out a kid? He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, "I—I'm not sure… I can…"

Lowell moved so quickly around the crib and grabbed his face in his hands and pressed his nose up against Ron's. "You can… Don' t you see this? Can't you see that this is how it is supposed to be?" His lips pressed up against his cheek and he whispered, "You told me you loved me. Don't you remember?"

Ron nodded slowly. He'd said that. He'd told his father how he thought he had been in love, but he was a monster. He killed and tortured for some insane man… Ron's blood ran cold, but every time Lowell would press his warm lips against Ron's, things became difficult. No, he wanted Severus, he reminded himself. He was scared and disoriented. Lowell knew only how to manipulate his emotions. He did it over the summer and he was doing it again. Lowell's left hand slipped down Ron's face and reached down his arm to grasp his hand.

"I know I never said it back, but you have to trust me Ronald," Lowell stated against his cheek. "This is perfect."

"I want to go…"

Lowell's face snapped back and he was frowning in an instant. "No, no, no. You want to stay with me."

"I'm only sixteen," Ron confessed at last.

Lowell snorted and said, "Is that the reason you're pulling away from me, Love? You honestly thought that I didn't know?" He began to chuckle and Ron could feel his chest against the man with every motion. "I knew… I knew all along you were too young, but then you lied because you needed me!"

Ron shook his head. "I—"

He was silenced by greedy lips over his own and the other hand that gripped his face wove around to his backside and Ron felt like he could melt into the touch. Ron let it happen and he could only be ashamed of it later. He'd run away because he needed something. Affection. He liked this. This was nice and he felt comforted. When had Lowell ever hurt him? He wanted Ron… He actually wanted him… Ron moaned slightly as Lowell's kissing continued over his neck. It was taken from him too soon when the man stepped back.

"What's it going to be Ronald?"

Ron frowned and stared at him in what felt like some odd sort of daze. He had to decide now? Severus… He blinked a few times and it seemed to clear the fog. Severus… He'd been warned. This was too good to be true, right? His head was reeling and he felt so confused. He did not want this. This was wrong.

"Stop, please," Ron pulled his head back and turned his face away. "I can't… I can't do this."

For a moment, he thought it would be okay. As if there was a possibility that Lowell would accept that. "You obviously aren't thinking hard enough." The voice which stated this was coated thickly in venom. "Let me help get some blood pumping through that brain of yours." Before Ron could recollect where any sort of limbs had vanished something powerful swept right across his face and he was falling backwards. The front part of his face, around his lips and mouth became increasingly wet. His whole face felt as if it were on fire. He could hardly see. His eyes were still rattling in their sockets and he was dizzy. Ambrose began to mutter angrily at the noise, but apparently it was easy enough for Lowell to approach the crib and shush him back into a sated lull.

He pulled forth his want from seemingly nowhere and placed a spell around the crib before calling out,"Maxson!"

The house elf appeared and took one look at Ron before making a face and diagnosing it all on his own. He vanished quickly and when he reappeared with a pouch containing ice along with a washrag. Lowell tsked and used accio to summon a chair before him. Ron was lifted into the chair and the pack of ice was brought to his aching face. "Once the swelling goes down you'll be as Handsome as ever, I promise," Lowell said softly. "You really need to be careful what you say, Love. I would hate to cause more permanent damage. I swear it's for the best really. You'll learn to love again. I swear to it. Cross my heart, Love."

Lowell tended to him as he sat slackened against the back of the chair. The washrag ran over the lower half of his face. However, the steady drizzle of warmth did not seem to want to stop and the man had to summon his house elf to bring a potion to remedy that. Ron let out a weak whimper and tried to bring his hands to his face to feel the damage, but Lowell shook his head and swatted his hands away.

Once the pampering and tending was through, Lowell placed him in his bed after banishing his clothing, leaving Ron feeling exposed, but sadly too weak to fight, Lowell moved the hair of his forehead and kissed him, but it made his face hurt. "Good night. I'll see you in the morning."