Chapter 3: Clean and Proper

Dawn came too quickly by Severus' estimation. He had only managed to fall into a half-sleep in his favorite chair. The early morning flux of activity in the downstairs alerted him to the oncoming day, and he was none too willing to greet it. Severus kept no valet. He changed from his rumpled travel attire and into clean garments. After a quick toilette, Severus emerged from his chambers and silently went downstairs. He was determined to keep at least some semblance of normalcy to his life. All that went out the window the moment he saw his stable master in the foyer.

Seeing Hagrid within the walls of his home was an odd sight—one that he would have balked at on a normal day. The stable master looked ill at ease in the foyer with his rough hands twiddling about nervously. Hagrid made a hasty bow of his head. "Good morning, mi'lord. I was jus wonderin' how Harry was doin'?"

"As well as can be expected," Severus told him plainly.

"Would ye mind…I mean would it be alright if I gave the boy somethin'?" Hagrid asked pulling a lopsided, stuffed bear from this pocket.

Severus eyed the ragged thing skeptically. He briefly considered banishing the giant and his bear to stables, but decided against it. "Later. Dr. Lupin and I have much to discuss about Harry." As far as Severus was concerned the matter was ended, and he turned on his heel. A thought struck him. "Hagrid," he said over his shoulder, "have Hades saddled for me after tea."

"Aye, mi'lord."

If the lord believed that Hagrid would be the only member of his house acting strangely, he was sorely mistaken. It was as if a spell had been cast on Spinner's End and all the staff had gone mad from it. On his way to dining room, Severus first noticed the scurrying maids. One young girl was peering behind the curtains. He sneered at the display. Somehow, he knew he was not going to like this one bit.

"What the devil are you doing, girl?" he snapped.

The young woman whipped about and pressed herself to the wall. Horror crept into her eyes. No doubt, she wished to melt into the wall at her back. "My lord, I…I…" she stammered pitifully beneath his scorching glare.

Just when his patience was run thin, a voice saved the child. "Have you found him?" Mrs. Figg cried.

"Found who?" Severus asked with an icy tone. "God pray, that you are speaking of Lupin, woman! Do not even tell me that we have already misplaced the boy!"

The young maid who had started this rampage took flight from the room leaving the old housekeeper to fend for herself. Mrs. Figg, however, was not the least bit intimidated. "He must have woken from his stupor and wandered off. We will find Harry soon….Sooner if we get back too it," she added courageously.

"Don't think that I would not goes as far as to dismiss you, Mrs. Figg," he warned through gritted teeth.

The old woman snorted. "You can give me the short shrift after we find Harry, my lord." With that, she left the lord simmering.

In the next hour, there was not a corner of Spinner's End that was left unchecked. From the guestrooms and parlors to the basement and pantry, every inch was combed. Even the stable boys were pulled from their duties to look for Harry. Unfortunately, it all came to naught. How could one boy cause so much of a disruption? No one said a word to the lord as the search continued on. Luckily, Lupin had the good sense to avoid Severus all together. It was not like Severus to worry. He never wasted his time on such idiotic drivel, yet now, he was worrying like some old mother hen. Damn that boy!

Scenarios played through Severus' mind as he searched the garden. Was Harry truly lost? Had he wandered off in a state of confusion? Or was he frightened and fleeing like a deer? And how in God's name had he managed to sneak off without a single servant noticing? The boy was not a ghost. Surely, someone should have seen him! No, he couldn't blame the servants for this. He should have had someone keeping watch over him.

"I've found 'im!"

Severus' head snapped to attention when he heard the call. A young stable boy was waving them over to the small building just past the stables. In that instant, Severus felt his blood turn to ice water. That was where Hagrid kept his own mount, Buckbeak. There was a most definite reason that Buckbeak was not kept with the other horses. The animal was dangerous. Harry could be trampled to death! Precious seconds ticked by as Severus forced the well of panic away.

"Get Hagrid," he commanded to one of the gardeners before racing to stable.

At first, he didn't believe what he saw. Buckbeak, the stallion who had so frightened the stable hands that not one of them would draw near, the beast who had the look and disposition of the war horses of old, was gently sniffing at Harry's hair as the boy petted him. Oblivious, Harry continued to stroke the horse's massive neck as a crowd began to form at the door. Buckbeak, however, was not caught unaware by the interlopers. The horse stared at the group angrily and put his ears back. He let out a most irritated grunt, and angled his enormous body in front of Harry.

"'E's protectin' the lad," one young man commented in awe.

Severus bristled at the idea. The brainless beast wasn't protecting anyone. He took a step forward only to have his hand nearly taken from his wrist by Buckbeak's teeth.

"Step aside now," Severus heard Hagrid say from behind pushing through the on lookers.

In front of the stall, Hagrid joined the amazed lord. The stable master scratched his beard. "Wasn't expectin' that," he murmured.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Get the boy out of there immediately."

"Right." Hagrid stepped toward the animal. "Everyone get out o' 'ere. Buckbeak doesnae like ya here."

The crowd parted and even Severus stepped back into the shadows. He simply couldn't turn his eyes from the massive beast before Harry. Buckbeak didn't step away from the boy as Hagrid had been hoping.

Severus watched the stable master tempt the horse with a ripe red apple, but the animal was not interested. Buckbeak would not relinquish his charge so easily. Oddly enough, Harry did make a move for the apple. The boy came just far enough to swipe the fruit from Hagrid's grasp. Severus watched in horrid fascination as Harry offered the apple to Buckbeak. This time the horse happily chomped on the treat as Harry patted his ears. Buckbeak gave Harry's forehead one last sniff before deciding that the child was safe. The only one who was left wholly unfazed by the day's debacle was Harry.

Stepping from the stall, Harry grinned and pointed to the horse. He seemed to be telling them that he liked Buckbeak.

Severus sighed heavily. "I'd think that a stable would be the last place you would wish to be," he said grimly.

Harry cocked his head to the side and stared right at Severus, but made no sign of understanding. Cautiously, he stepped toward Severus lifting his fingertips to Severus' mouth. It had been many years since someone had been bold enough to touch the lord in such an intimate manner, and Severus had to bite back the urge to slap Harry's hand away. Severus caught Harry's hand at the wrist as he stepped back.

"Something tells me that you are going to be trouble," the lord muttered.

If Severus believed that this incident would be the worst the day had to offer, he was sorely mistaken. He managed to get Harry to come along nicely to the house. However, getting him to go inside was another matter. The boy backed away from the doors shaking his head stubbornly. Severus could only guess that Dursley had not allowed the boy inside the house. No matter how soothingly Severus tried to make himself sound, the boy would not budge. Sighing heavily, he did the last thing he could think of: he took Harry by the hand and led him to the door. For a moment, the boy looked at him with mournful eyes. Harry seemed to believe that he was being led to some sort of gruesome punishment, and God only knew the fear was not unwarranted.

Lupin was waiting for them at the stair. Despite his misgivings about the man personally, Lupin was the best person he could think of for Harry. The physician smiled gently at Harry. "Hello, Harry. We didn't get to meet last night, but I am Dr. Lupin. Could I examine you?" he asked softly.

Harry glanced nervously between Severus and Lupin, but he showed no sign of wanting to run.

"I have things that will make the hurt go away," Lupin revised. He pulled a jar from his bag. With slow movements, Lupin put a liberal amount of salve on his finger tips and offered it to Harry. "May I?"

Severus was less patient than Lupin. He took Harry's arm gently, and stripped away his sleeve to reveal the raw flesh. The boy shuddered but he did not pull away. "Be quick, Lupin. I don't know if he'll let us do this for long," he said curtly.

Lupin nodded. His long fingers began to work the salve into the wound. Though Harry moaned a bit at the first contact, the salve must have done its job. He offered Lupin his other wrist with little prompting.

"Better?" Lupin inquired.

Harry showed no sign that he understood, but he did stare intently at his wrists. The simple act had won Lupin Harry's trust. The smile Harry's face was brilliant. Severus wondered bleakly if anyone had ever tended to the child's bumps and bruises before, though he knew he would not like the answer.

A soft "hurumph" alerted the men to the appearance of Mrs. Figg. "Would you like me to bring Harry's breakfast, my lord?"

"Yes, Mrs. Figg. We'll take him to the green room. Have a tray brought up." Severus eyed Harry thoughtfully. "And while you are at it, have a bath drawn for him. Sheers and some clean clothing would not be amiss either."

This time, Harry willing came with Severus and Lupin. He still looked about the halls skittishly, but he did not have to be dragged along.

The green room had once been Severus' own chamber. It was spacious and luxurious with dark wood paneling and rich green velvet curtains on the bed. The room had once been in decay, like the rest of the house had been, but the years since had seen it revitalized. Were it not for Victoria's insistence, he would have used this room rather than the lord's suite. Severus had chosen this room for Harry for two reasons. First, it was very close to his own quarters and he was unwilling to leave the boy unattended from now on. Secondly, the room had a large bathing area set up behind a thin screen.

Mrs. Figg brought up Harry's breakfast tray herself. "I did as you said," she commented to Lupin. "The cook knows that Harry is to start with bland food."

"Very good," the physician replied with a nod.

"I do have to say that I don't see why you have asked us to restrict his portions," she huffed. Mrs. Figg set the tray down on the table. Severus did see what she meant. There was nothing more than a small bowl of porridge and a piece of toast.

"What is the meaning of this?" Severus asked suspiciously. Certainly the doctor would not go so far as harming the boy to get back at Severus!

Lupin sighed. "Harry has been near starvation for so long that to let him eat too much could make him extremely ill. Allowing him to gorge himself would put too much strain on his internal organs and could potentially kill him. He needs to slowly put on weight and stretch his stomach. As time goes, you may add new things into his diet and enlarge his portions," he conceded.

Severus nodded. He pulled a chair out from the table, and motioned for Harry to seat. "Come and eat, boy."

Harry wasted no time. In a thrice, he was using his fingers to shovel the warm meal into his mouth. The spoon laid untouched on the tray. He ate with no regard to propriety or manners of any kind. The grim truth was that Harry ate like the beast he had been treated as. Even Severus, with his disdain for the more delicate sensibilities, took pause at the boy's behavior. Lupin looked positively scandalized. When the food was gone, Mrs. Figg—the only one who seemed uneffected by the boy's table manners—wiped Harry's face clean with a linen.

The housekeeper gave the gentlemen a stern look. "Now, shall we get him clean and proper?"

Lupin had the decency to blush. Severus, however, did not. "I hardly think turning this one into a proper boy is possible, but clean is plausible…only until the next meal, that is."

It took all three of them to get Harry bare and into the tub. Harry knew enough that he did not like to be nude before Mrs. Figg. The housekeeper reluctantly went from behind the screen, and began to prepare the borrowed clothing. Severus and Lupin were both sopping wet by the time they got Harry scrubbed. Harry did not understand the point of the bath and seemed to think it was funny to splash at the pair. While Lupin found humor in Harry's innocent mischief, Severus could not. He abruptly left the room to sulk in his study.

Perhaps, he thought as he poured himself a brandy, keeping the boy was not a good idea. The decision to take Harry in had been rushed, made in the heat of the moment. Could he really keep the boy here? Hadn't this morning proved he couldn't keep him safe? Hadn't the bathing incident proved that he had not the patience for the boy? He did own a small cottage near Turnbridge Wells that would suit Harry well. He could easily afford to set him up there with a nursemaid of some kind. It seemed the logical solution. He would know that the boy was well cared for, and Harry would want for nothing….yet somehow, the plan didn't fit. Severus shook his head. The more he thought of sending the boy away, the more he could picture Harry's eyes staring up at him with unabashed trust and admiration. Never before had Severus seen that look in the eyes of another. Selfish as it was, he couldn't send Harry away.

Severus made his way to the hall before the green room. He was now sorry that he had left, but didn't know how to go back. He had the distinct impression that Dr. Lupin and Mrs. Figg were better able to help the boy. Harry was in good hands, and had no need for an ill tempered, old lord. Before Severus could turn, the door opened.

Mrs. Figg looked as though she had taken a turn in the bath, as well. Her wrinkled face was flushed, but she was smiling. "Oh, my lord, I was just about to fetch you!" she burst happily. "You must see what we've found under all that grime!"

"Very well," Severus agreed, feigning disinterest.

The very second he entered the room, he felt the air leave his lungs. Harry was exceedingly handsome, beautiful one could say. Unruly locks of raven hair framed his youthful face. He now looked ever more the woodland sprite with his delicate features visible. His skin was still too pale, but only a blind man could miss the glow he had about him. The ill-fitting clothing managed to conceal Harry's malnourished state and hide the ghastly marks on his wrists. Oddly enough, it took Severus a minute to realize all of this. He could see naught but the stunning shade of vivid emerald eyes that shone with true joy.

"Now, all we must work on is the proper half, I should say," Lupin said contentedly.

The vision before him had left Severus befuddled, and he had trouble finding his tongue. He nodded absently as he stared on at the boy.

Harry grinned. He pulled at his shirt and pointed to Mrs. Figg. Obviously, he wanted Severus to know where he had gotten his new attire. Though no more than a homespun shirt and trousers borrowed from one of the footmen, Harry acted as if he had been given a king's ransom in silk.

"You look very respectable," Severus agreed.

Harry bit his lip impishly. He had begun to loose his shyness and fear.

"Mrs. Figg, would you stay with Harry a moment? I would like a word with Dr. Lupin."

Mrs. Figg nodded. "Of course. Why don't you gentlemen have tea and relax? You've had quite a day. I will stay with this dear heart. Perhaps he would enjoy a sweet cake."

Lupin cleared his throat. "An apple would be better."

Severus rolled his eyes. "A word, Lupin," he demanded.

Once in the sanctuary of Severus' study, Lupin sank down into an armchair. "What did you say Harry's surname is?"

Severus snorted. "I did not say. Dursley said the boy was his nephew, and I imagine that would make him Harry Dursley…though, I can scarce believe him a blood relation to anyone in that lot. Why do you ask?"

"There is something achingly familiar about him, yet I cannot place it. I do not know the Dursley's by acquaintance—only reputation," Lupin began. "I do make my services available to the less fortunate in the area, and I do recall visiting Mrs. Brown once years ago. The poor woman complained to me that she was unable to afford her daughter's medicine after she had been let go from the Dursley household. Knowing the family as I do, I could not fathom a reason why the woman would have been sacked. Mrs. Brown always was a very hard worker…"

"Does this story have a point?" Severus asked, drumming his long fingers on the desk.

"It does," Lupin insisted. "And in fact, I think you should be very interested if you would have a whit of patience."

Severus sneered. "I do apologize, doctor. Would you please continue?"

Lupin nodded. "Mrs. Brown told me that Dursley had fired her and the stable hands at the same time. Oddly enough, she said that the man had no reason at all. He claimed that he and his family wished to go into mourning, but mourning doesn't require a family to dismiss an entire staff. She claimed that Mr. Dursley had a nasty bent."

"And just whom were they mourning?" Severus asked.

"I don't know," the physician answered glumly. "You must understand this was well over a decade ago. I only remembered it at all because Mrs. Brown died this past winter, and I was browsing through my records."

"Only you would record something so trivial," Severus muttered. "I agree though it was odd. I have every intention of finding out what went on that estate, and I have a feeling that few coins placed in the hands of one Mr. Pettigrew would do the trick."

"Peter Pettigrew?" Lupin inquired.

"God's blood, Lupin, do you know every servant within the area?" the lord exclaimed.

Now, that got Lupin to his feet. "I know them because I am the only one who will tend to them! You never took my work seriously, Severus. I wanted to become a physician to help people, and Sirius has helped me do so. If you to turn ill on the morrow, I have no doubt there would be twenty skilled doctors at your bedside by noon. Tell me who do you think cares for you grooms when they take a fever or your maids when they come down with a cough?"

"Very laudable of you, Remus. I did not mean to imply that your work was not important. Simply that it was quite the coincidence that you know so many who work for Drusley, but not the man himself. So what, pray tell, was you experience with Pettigrew?" Severus tried his best to keep his tone cordial, though he was tempted to throttle Lupin.

Lupin sat back down. "I treated him for a nasty bite on his arm about five months ago. In hindsight, I do believe Harry must have bitten him and not a horse as he claimed. I though it strange then, but now it makes sense. I do have to agree that greasing Pettigrew's palm might get you the information you need."

Severus couldn't stop himself from smirking at the thought of Harry biting Pettigrew. "Just maybe, Harry is more of a fighter than I imaged."

"Maybe," Lupin agreed. "If you have no farther need of my services…"

"I didn't mean to argue," Severus interrupted. "I would like you to stay. You have a way with Harry, and you can see that he desperately needs help."

His eyes softened. "You have a way with him, as well. Despite what you would have the world believe, I know you are a compassionate man. Harry is lucky to have you."

"I would pay you well for your time."

"It isn't a matter of money, my lord."

Severus shook his head. "Perhaps, a donation to the poor hospital then? Stay only until I can find a nursemaid. I won't beg you, Lupin."

Lupin sighed heavily. "Only until you have a proper nursemaid."

"Very well," Severus said.

He poured two glasses of brandy, and handed one to Lupin.

"Isn't it a bit early?" Lupin commented.

"To Harry," Severus toasted ignoring Lupin's admonishment. "May he find happiness in driving us all mad."