Chapter 4: Warmth

"… To be touched kindly, to be pulled harshly, to be embraced lustfully. The silent language of humans. Do you understand now my pet?" Jhadar Aswald

"Ah it really is under the Black Lake." Harry said to himself as he watched small groups of fishes swim past his bedroom window. "Magic is so very weird." He muttered, looking around for an exit from the bedroom that he found himself in.

The details of yesterday's events were hazy to Harry. After the whole naming debacle, he couldn't shake off the looming lethargy. He vaguely remembered Stevens carrying him stairs and tucking him into a large ornate bed. After that, he was fell swiftly into restless sleep like he always did.

As he walked through a long corridor in his striped pyjamas, Harry couldn't push down the paranoia that's creeping into the back of his mind. The boy still think that he is in some elaborate plot that the death eater had set up for him. And the Genie! He still couldn't wrap his head on the concept of an immortal and omnipotent creature being his butler.

So instead to trying to understand, the boy-who-lived did what he always do for the last few months. He let his mind wander back into the deep recess of his psyche where thoughts of Sirius and his friends couldn't catch up to him.

As Harry wondered around the Manor, he noticed some things. For one, the halls were spotless, unlike the night before where mountains of dust covered it like snow. 'He really did some work.' He thought to himself, impressed with how clean everything are.

Secondly, He noticed that mornings underwater did not differ greatly when it is still at night. There is still this strange muted silence in the air that was occasionally broken by a smooth sound of currents rolling against the Manor walls. The windowpane glowed an eerie dull green. From every angle, it looked like a sunken relic from the past. But as the noon sun breaks past the waters, the dull haunting glass transformed into a brilliant spectacle of light and colours.

When Harry dragged himself to the kitchen, he walked in front of two large gallery windows and just stopped. He stood bathed in green morning sunshine, jaw agape as he marvel over his new home. He could understand why the Black aristocrat wanted to live underwater. He could feel his weary and burdened heart mended by the beauty around him.

Putting his discomfort about the manor aside, Harry sat himself down in the middle of the foyer in blue stripped pajamas. He brought his knees close to his chest, and focused his eyes on the beautiful spectacle, and emptied his mind. For now, he could escape the guilt, the anger, the sadness. For now, he could pretend that those things never happened. For now, Harry Potter was happy.

Stevens stood quietly behind a large marble pillar with a tray full of tea and pastries. He walked into the foyer to find his master awake and enraptured by the morning sun through the Gallery windows. The genie wondered if he should interrupt his master's thoughts but quickly decided against it. Stevens didn't have the heart to do so.

Even as a house elf he heard rumours of Harry Potter. He knew about the adventures that he embarked, the enemies that he made, and the horrible things that he had seen. It was a miracle that the boy wasn't a vegetable. The boy has gone through enough that if a moment of silence could make him smile, the Genie would leave him be.

However, about an hour later Stevens came by to check in on Harry and the boy is in his original spot, still and unmoving. His new master is such a curiosity. Small insignificant things such as lights through can left the boy in such rapture. As much as he wanted to leave the boy be, it's unbecoming for the Lord of the Black Manor to idly dawdle their days away.

"My Lord," He called out softly, but there was no response.

He tried again. "My Lord," His voice sounding a tad bit forceful. Harry flinched and turned around quickly, his petrified gaze relaxing when he saw that it was only him.

"Oh sorry. Didn't hear you there." Harry said, yawning and stretching his arm out. "Is it time for breakfast?"

"Yes My Lord." Stevens said, keeping his gaze down dutifully.

"Um, okay..." Harry said, sounding uncomfortable with the formality. "Let me get dressed first."

"Yes sir, your clothes will be laid out when you have finished washing. Would you like me to help you bathe?"

Harry looked at him like the man was crazy. "No. No. No. Just, no." He sighed and gestured the genie away. "Its fine, there's no need for all of that."

"Very good sir." He replied, his responses automatic from centuries of servitude. He bowed as Harry walked away, noticing how the boy is taking his gestures very awkwardly.

For generations, he only knew how to serve his original master's bloodline. Every heirs have those characteristics that make them innately Black; Their desire for power, their drive, and most notably, their arrogance. He taught himself to find these characteristics in his previous masters, just so he remember that no matter how different each and every generation is, they are still a descendant of Jhadar Ashwald.

Now, he is faced with a stranger, a kind and genuine stranger. Centuries of observations are now useless and he must now start everything from scratch.

So as he set the table for his master's meal, he began to review his steps very carefully. The Genie was unsure if he should serve the Potter boy like he did his Master Regulus or simply treat him like he treated Sirius. As Sirius's Godson, Stevens doubted that Harry would be any different than his godfather. In fact, he was sure that the boy would spite him more simply for the fact that he has lied to him about the Department of Mysteries.

The genie then remembered the multiple times the boy had opened his self to the genie. The boy's first wish, which was none other than a plea of help, caught him off guard. A less skeptical side of him wanted to believe that his new master is nothing more than a lost saviour in need of some support and guidance. However, he cannot betray his own suspicious nature. People with grand titles such as 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' are never just 'simple' folks.

Before he could finish deciding on his new course of action, Harry's entrance to the kitchen interrupted his musings. Without skipping a beat, he bowed in greeting of his master.

"Good Morning Master Potter, May I offer you some tea?" he gestured towards the polished silver platter. The tone to his greeting perfected by eons of servitude. His demeanour of a sophisticated footman was second nature to him.

"Eh, yes. No sugar please." Harry said, still uncomfortable with this whole new ritual. Stevens frowned. That was not the reaction that he was aiming for.

Stevens warmed basket of pastries in the oven, laid out butter and preserves for his master's convenience, and made a new pot of tea. If he couldn't charm his way into his master's good graces then his tea will.

Harry's greatest luxury in childhood was the school's treacle tart on Easter day, so seeing the elaborate setup for a simple breakfast made him cringe. He didn't criticize his butler. He rather have the genie fuss about small croissants than have the Genie fuss over him. He does not want to have someone ask about how's he's feeling, because if he did, he might just have to chocked back some tears.

Stevens sensed his masters discomfort and grew ever more confused. Sighing deeply, he decided to drop the charade. "Your tea sir."

Harry thanked the genie, still uncomfortable with the man in front of him. "I see you found yourself something new to wear." Harry said, halfheartedly trying to break the ice.

"Yes sir. When I was rummaging for clean linens, I found these wrapped in cloth. It seemed that the previous servant was very forward thinking." Stevens said, smiling as he held out a platter of pastries out for his masters.

"… Didn't you say that you were the pervious servant?" Harry said pointedly as he grabbed for a flaky apple straddle.

"That's correct sir." Stevens said, a self-satisfied smile playing on his handsome face.

Harry rolled his eyes. It seemed like he had acquired quite the character into his service. He took a bite of his warm pastries and stopped. "This taste like dust." He said quietly, unsure weather he's supposed to be angry or not.

Stevens quickly bowed, expecting the answer. "My apologies sir, but that is because it is all conjured." He bowed again and took the plate away. "I will go up to the surface and buy-"

"No-" Harry wiped his mouth. "Don't even worry about it. I usually don't eat breakfast anyways."

"Very good sir." Stevens said, slightly concerned with the comment. He rather have the boy eat something. His cheeks were so gaunt he was sure that he was malnourished.

"Sir," The genie said quietly. "If its possible, may we go up to the surface world and buy some food or supplies? I feel rather terrible that I couldn't even feed my master properly."

Harry stiffened at that comment. The idea of going anywhere near Hogwarts did not settle well with him. "I'm not that hungry now so don't even worry about it." He said, sipping big gulps of his tea. "I don't eat these days anyways." He laughed, trying to make light of the situation.

Stevens visibly frowned and crossed his arms. "That simply wouldn't do." He scowled and stomped over to toss a log into the hearth. "The heir of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black will not be some malnourished gangly armed boy with long matter hair and tattered clothes!"

"Hey, that's not nice." Harry said, half amused at his butler's outburst. He wasn't even mad that the Genie just called him 'gangly armed'. He was mostly glad that the stiff formal routine was finally broken.

The butler sighed and kneeled next to Harry. He's not sure that the boy understand the situation. "I apologize sir, but to be frankly honest, you look like a complete and utter wreck."

The boy only looked at him, cocked his head to the side and answered him calmly. "I know Stevens." Harry said, his voice devoid of any emotions.

The butler closed his eyes, frustrated at his master's apathy. "Sir, I am your butler, but more than that, I am your Genie." He reached up and took his master's hand.

Harry gasped, surprised at the sudden contact. He carefully looked at the hand that held his own. Warm long fingers closed around his hand. He couldn't remember the last time someone touched him intimately like this. On his side Stevens watched his master's reaction. It pains him to see his kind master being like this.

Sensing how the boy's mind is wandering again, Stevens squeezed Harry's hand painfully to get his attention. "As your Genie, I will take care of you." He said, his voice firm with his resolve.

For a moment, Harry didn't know what to say. At first he felt his cheek burn red with embarrassment, but seconds later, warmth spread from his chest. It's the same warmth that he felt when Mrs. Weasley was fussing over him, or when Sirius told him how proud he was. He had forgotten how nice it was to have someone that care.

"Alright." He said quietly, squeezing back at his butler's warm hand. "Take care of me then."