Disclaimer – I do not own this series or the characters – Jim Butcher is the rightful owner. I do not make any money with this story. TV Verse
Burnt out
When people say that a house has character, they don't usually mean it quite so... literally.
A/N: this may seem to meander a bit towards the middle/beginning of the end. There is a specific end point though, so bear with it. Also Harry gets whumped twice.
10.
The house flung the doors to the ballroom open with an echoing bang and Bob was barking orders before the children had a chance to steady themselves. He could hear footsteps running towards them and while he hoped it was Sheryl and not Scott, he determined that he wouldn't wait for her to arrive. The chandelier above them blazed with more light than was usual for such a fixture and even as the people around him tried to orient themselves the house was lighting more fixtures.
"You! Follow the house to get towels and cloths," Bob pointed at the boy he thought was Mark, "Julia, follow it to the kitchen, I need bowls of clean water. House, a trolley would be useful."
"Bob?" Scott skidded to a stop in the doorway, his eyes widening as he took in the people in the ballroom, "No! Harry!"
"Scott, fetch your mother at once!" Bob ordered and was dimly grateful when the boy turned and ran without argument, shouting for his mother.
"House, no one crosses the wards with Bob," Harry rasped, "Bob, I think that kid has a broken arm."
"I will deal with it, Harry," Bob got to his feet, "Hannah, I need you to come with me to the workroom, and I need someone to help her carry things."
"I will do it," Bjorn said, "For a potion?"
"Yes," Bob looked down at Harry, who was so pale and exhausted that he wasn't sure he would still be alive when Bob returned, "You will wait for me, do you hear me Dresden? You will still be here when I return."
"Not leaving you, Pops," Harry slurred, his eyes losing focus. Bob whirled for the door, Hannah at his side. She couldn't run as fast as he wanted, but she was doing her best. They were passed by Mark, with towels stacked in his arms, clearly following the lights that were turning themselves on as he hurried past. As they reached the door to the workroom Sheryl ran down the stairs into the foyer, Scott scrambling behind her, and diverted out of Bob's sight.
A moment later he heard the front door open and then voices as Wardens swarmed inside, apparently either unable to follow the coordinates that Harry had sent them, or determined to be in the wrong place. Morgan led the charge behind Sheryl who was running up the hall.
"The children are in the ballroom. Harry is hurt badly, go to him, please," Bob almost begged and she sped up, waving impatiently over her shoulder. Morgan stopped in front of Bob though.
"Do you have the medicines we'll need?" the warden asked, addressing Bob directly for once. Bob nodded and Hannah bolted along beside him as he strode into movement again. Harry's chances of surviving had just increased, if the blood replenisher and the last of the breath-of-life could be gotten into him, and a healing circle enacted. Bob indicated the potions he needed, and Bjorn pushed Morgan aside to get to them.
"Take those to Harry," Bob ordered the boy who nodded and sprinted off. He looked down at Hannah, who was breathless but clearly determined to run through the whole house again, "We need this one here for the broken bone, dear," Bob pointed and she picked up the potion indicated, tucking it carefully in beside his prison.
"Give me the bag," Morgan held his hand out, "I can take him … oof!"
Hannah kicked the warden in the shin a second time, clutching the bag tightly, and then ran for the door, Bob at her side, vanishing and reappearing as she moved.
"You'll get into trouble kicking wardens," he told her absently, but she was too winded to properly reply, settling for her best eleven year old glare. She hurried to the injured teens side, and Bob moved to Harry's head, where Scott and Sheryl were already crouched, folding his essence to the floor and touching Harry's forehead lightly.
"Still here," Harry gasped, and Bob granted him a smile. Harry's life ebb was very low, and if they didn't remove the rod impaling him soon he would die, no matter what potions were given him.
"Good boy," Bob condescended, knowing how irritated it made Harry and needing that spark of temper now to keep him with the living. Hannah joined them and Scott slung an arm around her shoulders. Bob didn't glance up as Morgan stepped into the ballroom, looking at the teens being tended by his wardens and the body of Harry Dresden, lying in a pool of blood on his own ballroom floor.
"Get the children out," Morgan announced. There was a wave of heated protests, but Bob knew that Harry couldn't hold on much longer, and stood abruptly to his full height. The wardens wouldn't be able to work on Harry properly with the children watching. This was going to be bloody.
"Enough! You will go to the front parlour and wait for news," he ordered, and Hannah sniffled, then took off the satchel. Harry lifted his hand, and she wrapped the strap around his wrist before letting her brother lead her off. Sheryl went with them, murmuring that she'd stay with them and see that they were alright. She had Pete wrapped under one arm, the boy still weeping, and Bob nodded his gratitude to her. Once the doors closed the two wardens left with Morgan moved swiftly to draw a cleansing circle around Harry.
"He's channelled a lot of power," Morgan muttered, "And at the same time drained his own dangerously."
"He was working without a circle," Bob offered, "He used elemental magic, air and fire, to contain and drive a demon back, and earth to drag it back down to hell."
"What the hell happened?" one of the wardens gasped, "How did those kids summon a demon?"
"Stupidity," Bob snapped, "Perhaps you could hold your questions until you have healed him? Or do you merely intend to make it look like you tried and he was too far gone to be saved?"
There was a ringing silence and Morgan glared at Bob, before turning his attention back to Harry.
"We need to get this out, and the wound as healed as possible before giving him the blood replenisher, or he'll bleed out. We'll follow with the breath-of-life potion only if needed," Morgan instructed his helpers, "Dresden, if you can hear me, I'm sorry."
Without pause he pulled the rebar from Harry's body, eliciting a strangled scream of agony that had Bob wringing his hands in anxiety and terror. Once again he was reminded of the cruelty of his sentence as he was forced to stand by and watch people who didn't care about the one being that Bob loved most in the world, worked to save Harry's life. He knelt at Harry's head and rocked back and forth in helpless agony as the wardens fought to stabilise the child he'd raised to man, unable to help and unwilling to distract them into a fatal error.
Harry was unconscious when they were finished, his life's ebb so low that Morgan couldn't say if he would rally.
"Where is his bedroom?" Morgan asked finally, sitting back wearily, "If he is going to die, it should at least be in a bed, not here."
"I can show you," Bob said thinly, and watched as Morgan picked Harry up, the bag containing his skull placed by another warden on Harry's chest. The wardens who had helped with the healing spell started casting spells that would remove the blood from the floor, burning it so it couldn't be used against the owner. The house opened the doors to the workroom and Harry's bedroom, drawing back the curtains and the shutters and lighting the candles in the room.
Morgan placed Harry on his bed, then removed his shoes and went to fetch a cloth to wash the blood off Harry's face and hands. Bob had gathered his composure by then and stood with his hands behind his back, his posture ramrod straight and his expression coolly neutral.
"Thank you Enforcer Morgan," Bob said quiet finality, "If you don't mind, we should be alone now. If he is to die, it should be in the presence of one who loves him, not the Council's executioner."
Morgan paled, "Is that what you think of me?" he asked, and when Bob stared at him silently, he unhooked the satchel from Harry's wrist and pulled Bob's skull free. He tossed the satchel onto the end of the bed and then placed the skull under Harry's hand, walking from the room with his shoulders slumped.
Once, Bob would have crowed to be the cause of Morgan's despair, but now all he could do was crowd close to Harry, wishing to touch him properly just once. Harry's breathing was shallow, the breath-of-life potion keeping his lungs working, just as it had after the fire, but if he was too far gone even the potion wouldn't keep him breathing for long. The door to the bedroom shut with a click and Bob felt the anticipation of the house press around him.
"If he dies," Bob murmured, "I don't know what I will do. He's all that I have. We are supposed to have the full span of his life together. He's still a child, he was my child, and now…"
He choked and let the tears spill over soundlessly, muffling the sobs with both hands. It took a while for him to calm, and he was ashamed when it did. Harry didn't need the last sounds he heard to be Bob snivelling over him. He moved to sit on the bed beside his skull, hands in his lap, fidgeting with the manacles at his wrists and the rings on his fingers.
"If all I can touch you with is my voice, my darling boy, then you will forgive me if I employ it," Bob took a deep breath, "After all, you promised you wouldn't leave me, and you called me by a name most vile when doing so. One which I intend to take you to task for as soon as you are well enough for the lecture. It will be one of my very finest, I assure you…"
Bob had always had an excellent speaking voice, and now he put it to good use, speaking firmly of their future plans as if Harry was in no danger at all, then reminiscing with the house over several of Harry's antics as a child. As the night drew on the candles slowly burnt out, leaving him with only the cold moonlight to see by. By dawn he was reduced to singing, not the sixteenth century show tunes that he used to punish Harry when he was being petty, but the few lullabies and songs he knew that would comfort the listener.
Dawn light crept into the room slowly and Bob leaned forward, his latest song trailing off. Harry had been breathing steadily for a while now, but something had changed and as the light filled the room he realised what it was.
"Dearest?" he breathed, and was rewarded with a slow blink. Harry was looking at him, and as Bob rose to his feet, Harry's fingers caressed the skull gently. The door to the bedroom swung open, and he could hear footsteps running this way.
"Promised," he breathed, "Still here."
"Yes you did," Bob sagged in relief, "Thank you, Harry."
Scott and Sheryl burst into the room, followed closely by Pete. Scott threw himself onto the bed and Sheryl joined him, leaning over her son to kiss Harry's forehead. Bob gestured and Pete crept around to his side. He didn't see the small flash of resentment when Harry lifted his hand off Bob's skull to reach out for Pete, nor the look of gratitude the Ghost bestowed on him when Pete rested their joined hands back on top of Bob's skull.
Morgan appeared in the doorway as Harry was asking Pete if he was ok, and actually sagged in relief when he realised Harry had rallied.
"The rest of the kids?" Harry asked him, and Morgan came fully into the room cautiously.
"They're still here. It was deemed better to retain them here while we set up for the inquisition. None of them are injured too badly, a broken arm from a piece of the rebar is the worst of it, and that was a closed fracture," Morgan reported, then looked at Bob, something he preferred not to do, "Hrothbert of Bainbridge, have you examined him?"
"I have not," Bob admitted and moved to do so, sticking his hand in Harry's abdomen where the wound was almost healed. Harry grimaced and Pete patted the hand he still held in comfort.
"It's so weird when you do that," Sheryl muttered, "I know there's no other way but…"
"He'd make a superb diagnostician," Harry's voice was stronger now, which meant he was truly on the mend.
"The wound is healed sufficiently," Bob stated at last and smiled down at Pete who was watching him with anxious eyes, "Another dose of blood replenisher is recommended though. There is some still in the cupboard in the workroom."
"I'll get it," Morgan left the room again. There was a moment of comedy as he flattened himself to stay out of Hannah's way, and Bob chuckled as she came to a skidding to a stop at the foot of Harry's bed.
"You've scared him child," Bob told her, and then turned to Harry, "Mistress Hannah kicked Morgan twice last night."
Harry grinned and Hannah blushed, giving Bob a sideways look, "It was in my defence, though, so no harm done."
"He wanted to take you?" Harry looked cross now, but was unable to get up as Scott was still holding onto him quite tightly. Bob regretted mentioning the incident.
"I wanted to take him to the ballroom," Morgan corrected from the door, "I thought she might need a rest from the running, and I would have been quicker."
He came to Harry's side and Sheryl got Scott to move back so she could lift his head. Bob doubted he needed the help at this point, but said nothing as he moved to supervise the warden.
"Two swallows, Harry," Bob instructed and Harry grimaced around the taste. The potion was effective, but very unpleasant to take. Pete slid the skull back under Harry's hand and he gripped it tightly, swallowing against the nausea and unpleasant waves of sensation.
"The inquisition will be held shortly," Morgan announced, "And I need to speak to Wizard Dresden in private."
Sheryl got the hint and summoned the children away, the door closing behind her.
"Where is the inquisition?" Harry asked as he caught his breath, "Bob, we need to be there…"
"Its in your ballroom," Morgan interrupted, and the door was opened again, this time by another male warden that neither Harry or Bob recognised, "We're going to get you cleaned up first. Where are his clothes?"
This last was directed to Bob, who stared at Morgan, making no attempt to answer or move. The young warden, probably a trainee if his age was any indicator put the bowl he was carrying onto the bedside drawer, and wrung out the washcloth that had been resting in it.
"Hrothbert of Bainbridge, would you please show me where I can locate suitable clothes?" Morgan tried again, and this time Bob moved, pointing out where clothes that Harry could wear without too much discomfort were. Harry sat up with a groan, and between the two of them the wardens cleaned the blood off his skin, dried him and got him into the cotton tunic and trousers that Bob had indicated. The wound to his abdomen was closed, but very tender and it would reopen if he moved too quickly or actively.
To distract himself from what was essentially a bath given to him by an adult that didn't like him at all, Harry told Morgan about Pete and the injuries they had treated only yesterday on the boy. Morgan listened with a frown, and then nodded.
"I will speak to Mai about it. She dislikes seeing children mistreated," typical understatement, but Harry nodded anyway.
"I said he could stay with me," Harry told Morgan, "If that can't happen, then I'd like to stay in touch."
"We will see," Morgan replied, standing from where he'd been tying Harry's shoes, "Will you need assistance to walk?"
"No," Harry said firmly. He wasn't about to be carried into the ballroom in front of Ancient Mai and whoever else from the Council was there. Bob rolled his eyes but said nothing as the two wardens left. Harry picked up the skull carefully and then grit his teeth and stood. He tucked Bob's skull into the crook of his arm on the same side as his wound, a guarding mechanism to prevent overstretching or jostling.
"If you call me Hamlet, I'll leave your skull out in the next rain storm," Harry informed Bob, who quirked a small smile at him. The cotton tunic was dark grey, and Harry wore charcoal coloured suit trousers. Between that, his thin frame, and his pallor he looked quite the ill-fated madman.
"I shall try to restrain myself, lest you decide to play at loggets," Bob replied, and Harry breathed a laugh, walking slowly around the end of the bed towards the door, "Harry at least let me summon Lady Sharpe to walk with you."
"Or," said Lady Sharpe from the workroom, which she was walking through quite quickly, "You could use the walking stick that the house drew my attention to."
For someone who had no magic of her own, Sheryl had adapted to living in a magical house quite quickly. The walking stick was a light oak, carved around with vines and acorns. Harry accepted it gratefully and leaned on it for a moment to get used to the height.
"Is Scott ok?" he asked her, and Scott's mom frowned.
"He was very upset last night, but then so were all the children," she replied, "Young Pete especially. Harry, the parents of the children arrived earlier, and … I don't think this is going to go well for some of the kids. If you have to … help them, then I support you. Scott and I aren't allowed to be in the inquisition because we didn't go to the site with you, but … whatever you need to do to help those children, I'm with you."
"You have a bad feeling?" Harry had resumed walking, and Sheryl hovered next to him. He was much more steady though, and moving a little faster now that he had something to support him properly.
"I do," she nodded, "But I can't explain it."
"A mother's instinct is very strong," Bob spoke up from behind Harry. She turned and smiled at him as they reached the hallway.
"I am so glad we met you," she told a startled Ghost, "You are family too, if I never made that clear."
She kissed Harry's cheek and patted the skull he cradled close, then hurried down the hall towards the stairs. Bob looked… gobsmacked was not too strong a description, and Harry smiled at him.
"Come on Pops," Harry murmured and ignored the splutters of indignation behind him. By the time Harry had made his deliberate way along the halls to the ballroom it was clear that everyone who should be there had gathered. The warden that had helped him dress indicated a chair, straight back with wooden arms, for Harry to sit in, and he did so, placing Bob's skull on his lap and folding his hands over it, his elbows on the arms of the chair.
The doors to the ballroom were closed and Harry noticed that someone had painted onto them. He hoped they'd come prepared to get that and the rest of the markings now on the ballroom floor out, and then Mai stepped out of seemingly no where and it was time to begin.
11.
The teens were standing each in their own circle of runes, their hands and mouths bound with spell cloths to prevent them casting magic. Adults stood behind each teen, some scowling quite badly, others looking around with frightened expressions. If convicted of summoning the demon, the teens could be killed as practitioners of black magic. Harry was just glad that they weren't kneeling and wearing black hoods over their heads, which was common for the accused in this sort of situation.
To one side, Hannah and her friends huddled together, looking around at the adults with scared faces. Harry sighed and waved them over, ignoring Mai's scowl as she finished reciting the spells that would ensure that the truth was told, and that no one could interfere with proceedings, or eavesdrop if they were not supposed to hear. The children clustered around his chair, Pete and Saskia grabbing his arms with Hannah clutching his shoulder. Al was holding her hand tightly. Bob stood on the other side of the chair, arms folded sternly across his chest, glaring forbiddingly over Saskia's head.
"Witnesses are to stand with the warden in charge of them," Mai snapped at Harry when she was done.
"Then the warden can come over here," Harry replied evenly, "My house, my rules, and these are my clients. I am bound to protect them."
He thought that he heard a relieved sigh from one of the parents, but didn't look away from Mai to check.
"Very well," Mai growled after a moment, "See to it that they comport themselves properly."
Harry refrained from rolling his eyes and nodded instead. There would be time for arguing and this was not it.
"Then let us begin with the report from the wardens," Mai announced and Morgan stepped forward into the only empty circle. He took the usual oath to speak truly, then related the information that they had gathered from the clearing in the woods, presenting also the rebar they had pulled from Harry. The news that there was evidence pointing to Harry channelling the elements without a working circle drew the eye of every adult in the room. Bob lifted his chin in defiance, but Harry didn't move, his eyes fixed on a point on the floor. It was important that they didn't decide he was some sort of threat in the wake of all this, as he was in no shape to defend himself or flee. The power he'd wielded last night had exhausted him and it was taking more energy than he'd like to simply stay sitting upright.
"This is not cold iron," Mai frowned as she turned the blood stained rebar over in her hands, "You say it was part of a protection circle?"
"It was supposed to be if the marks in the ground were any indication," Morgan replied, "It's steel, with a low iron content."
"A sign of ignorance," someone commented to Mai's left, and she nodded, frowning, "And not the first if the Enforcer's descriptions of the runes and working circle they drew is at all accurate, which I don't doubt it was."
"Very well, let us begin with the testimony of the children," she handed the rebar back, "Is there a leader to speak for them?"
"Me," Hannah squeaked. She let go of Harry reluctantly and walked around Saskia. She was shaking quite badly, and Mai tilted her head. It was clear that Hannah was terrified, and Mai might not like to see children mistreated but she had no patience for the kind of questioning that Hannah would respond best to.
"Dresden," Mai said when Hannah had stepped into the circle where Morgan had stood, "Question your client."
"Hannah," Harry said gently, "Turn and look at me, please."
He glanced up at Bob and the Ghost stepped over to join Hannah in the circle, something that made the people watching stir in surprise. Bob whispered the words about truth telling to her, and she repeated them with a wobble in her voice.
"I'm going to ask some questions, Hannah," Harry said gently, "And you just answer them as best as you remember, ok? Don't worry about the people listening, just talk to me. Bob will help you if you have questions too."
"Ok Wizard Dresden," Hannah took a deep breath. He smiled at her and got a little smile back. The kid had spunk, that was for sure. He took her through arriving at the manor and talking to him about what her brother was doing. As she answered the simple questions her voice got stronger, and she stopped shaking. When Mai snorted at the news that she'd kicked Morgan, she shot a little look at the High Council leader, but she kept talking until she reached the part of the tale where they'd been sent with Sheryl to the front parlour.
Once she'd told her tale she looked up at Bob, who smiled at her and put his hands behind his back.
"You've done well, child," he praised her, and won a little sigh of relief.
"Hannah," Morgan spoke up reluctantly, at Mai's gesture, "Why didn't you speak with your father on this matter? He is a warden, and well able to assist you."
"Because he'd have to tell you, and you'd have to cut off heads, and I don't want that," tears formed in her eyes, "And Wizard Dresden listened to us, and he saved the little brother of that kid at school: I thought he could really stop it in time. But he was hurt so bad instead, even though he tried so hard to stop it. I guess I wasn't quick enough to tell. I'm sorry, Mark."
"I should have listened to you," Mark replied around the gag and winced when his father smacked the back of his head. Hannah was crying again though and Mai waved a hand, opening the circle. She ran to her brother, who hugged her awkwardly, despite the spell cloth. Bob managed to get her to let go with a few gently cajoling words and Hannah returned to her friends. Saskia hugged her and Bob went to stand with Al, his arms folded over his chest once more.
One by one the teens were called to testify, and between them they built a picture of terrifying incompetence. The spell lexicon they were using was incomplete, and they had put the missing steps together from a lexicon that used an entirely different syntax. Several of them had been nervous about the ritual and had smoked a joint prior to starting the incantation. One was drunk on a bottle he'd snuck from his mother's liquor cabinet.
All of them agreed under compelling oath that Evan had been their leader, and that he'd pushed for the spell to go ahead despite their doubts. None of them had checked the time of year, the phase of the moon or the time of day that would favour their casting, and had no idea why that was important. None of them were sure what the circle would actually do. Depending on who asked, Evan had given different answers, and none of them were expecting an actual demon. Three of them expected the spell to fail altogether, and thought that it would be harmless fun. Al's sister Julia was in that group, as was Mark. Evan had insisted that the rebar would form additional protection, and while they were dubious about it, they had agreed that the rods couldn't hurt for the ritual, and several wore small amulets for personal protection.
All of which was completely inadequate. They were lucky that they hadn't summoned something that was strong enough to override the meagre protections that they had managed to raise at once. As it was, Morgan had testified that the demon would have escaped the circle once it was fully manifested, and that the death of Evan was the key to it reaching that goal. Harry moved to put an arm around Pete, who hid his face in Harry's shoulder while Al rested a hand on his friend's back.
"Did the children see this?" one of the mothers asked in shock and Harry looked at Bob. He'd had his back to them at that point and couldn't be sure what they'd seen.
"No," the Ghost replied, his tone cutting and precise, "When I realised what was about to happen I had them shield their eyes. They didn't see what happened, nor did the teens. Wizard Dresden bade me to do all I could to protect them, and I could at least prevent that harm from being witnessed."
Harry's look of gratitude meant more than the muttered expressions of relief around the room and he dipped his head in regal acknowledgement. Mai looked around the room, disgust clear in her expression.
"Before I pronounce judgement, does anyone wish to speak on behalf of the criminals?" she asked and Harry looked over at the teens parents, expecting at least one of them to speak up for their kid. The teens also looked to their parents, their faces falling as they realised that none of them dared to defy Ancient Mai after such a catastrophe. Bob shot a little glance at Harry, who let go of Pete with a deep breath and stood, Bob's skull gathered to his chest. Bjorn sobbed when he realised his parents were looking at the floor, a sound that pierced Harry's heart. Right or wrong, his dad had always stuck up for him.
"I will speak for them," he said quietly, and limped to the circle. Mai scowled at him, and he returned her look with equal heat. She nodded after a long moment, and he closed the circle himself. Bob had crowded close to him, but said nothing, knowing that testimony from a ghost would not be well received, especially one with his reputation. Harry spoke the vow firmly, and then let the silence gather for a moment. This was too important to rush.
"It is clear to me," Harry kept his voice even and calm, "That this situation has deeper roots than curious children playing with a lexicon. These are children with powers, that have not been trained in the most fundamental basics of the powers that they will one day wield. This was a winter spell, performed in the summer. None of them checked the moon phase. The herbs they placed in the circle were for the wrong sabbat. While they had heard of cold iron as a protection, none of them knew what that really meant, or the composition of the rods they were using. They were impaired by various substances, and they had brought together a series of symbols and words that wielded powers incorrectly balanced, something they had never been trained to do. All they had was their power, and curiosity to see what they could do with it."
He looked over at the teens, who were either staring at the floor with red cheeks or glaring at him in embarrassment, "What they didn't have was intent. Magic is all about intent, which is why a spell to light a candle can have such varied results based on the circumstances it is cast in. They didn't intend to summon a demon. They didn't intend to summon anything. Each had been told that the spell had a different purpose by Evan, who by the testimony of these children, was the leader of this ritual. The truth speaking spells have made it clear that they didn't intend for any of this to happen; certainly they didn't realise that death was a possibility. If they had been better taught, if the fundamentals had been properly explained, this would never have happened. While they bear responsibility for their mistakes, so do their teachers, and their community."
Several adults in the room muttered and shifted, but silenced when Mai looked at them speculatively.
"And if the community bears some responsibility, so does the Council. They had no one to go to when things got out of hand. Their siblings had to come to an outcast for help, instead of their own parents, because those parents position on the Council made it too dangerous for them to report the situation to. In fact, all the children were certain of was that their older siblings would be beheaded by the Council or its Wardens," Harry sighed, "If the Council can't be approached for help before things go too far, then where should the community go?"
Mai snarled soundlessly at him, and Bob sighed in aggravation. Harry wouldn't back down though. After a long moment she opened the circle and he returned shakily to his seat, Bob shadowing him closely.
"I will deliberate," Mai announced and summoned several wardens, Morgan included. Harry leaned his head against the chair back and breathed slowly.
"You're going to get us into trouble," Bob tutted under his breath. Harry opened his eyes and looked up at the concerned Ghost.
"I had to try, Bob. If nothing else, I had to make it clear that there needs to be some way for curious teens to channel that curiosity," Harry shook his head. Bob sighed and nodded.
"Thanks for trying, Wizard Dresden," Al said quietly, "I guess… mom and dad, they both work in the archives…"
He trailed off and Harry nodded, unable to think of anything to say that would make this situation better. Mai and her advisers returned to their places and Harry sent the children to stand with their siblings. If nothing else, it would remind Mai that she was about to either reinforce a bad precedent, or show that the Council could learn from its mistakes. It wasn't his job to mend bridges in the community, even if Morgan had tried to recruit him.
"I will pass sentence," Mai announced, "Parents, go to your children."
"No," a man said quietly, "Barely fourteen and already ruined. And my own daughter would go to a man who has wielded the Black instead of me. I have no children. I cast you both from my family."
Hannah gasped and clutched at Mark, who was staring at the speaker with betrayal on his face.
"We cast you both from our family," Al's mother spoke up next, and his father nodded, not meeting the eyes of his former children. In a ritual space like this, their words were binding.
People stirred uneasily, and there were some mutters among the wardens. Saskia's parents joined her at Bjorn's side though, and this broke the tableau as the rest of the parents hurried to their own child's side.
"Anyone else?" Mai asked acerbically, and Pete stepped forward, leaving Harry's side with a gulp of nerves, coming to stand in front of her.
"I disown myself," he said in a shaky voice, and pulled his shirt over his head, turning to show her his back, "I tried to tell them about Evan, but she just held me down while he whipped me with his belt. Wizard Dresden had to help me get better. I won't go back to them."
"No, you will not," Mai agreed softly, though the look she flashed at the two people standing where Evan should have been was positively demonic. When no one else said anything Pete pulled his shirt back on, shaking and hugging himself tightly. Bob walked across the space and stood beside him protectively, and Harry nodded in approval.
"Your children are sentenced to probation, for the next ten years. You will see to it that they are educated properly, and supervise any magic they may cast. If they can show a good accounting of themselves after ten years, they will be able to take their place in the community. Any crime they commit while on probation will see you receive the same punishment they are due, and the next time I will not be merciful," Mai scowled at them all.
Harry nearly slid out of the chair in relief. He had thought that she would kill them to further strengthen her message of zero tolerance for such behaviour. It took a long time to change Mai's mind: she was very long lived, which made her opinions somewhat fixed. She made a sharp gesture and the spell cloths dropped to the floor, freeing the teens who were immediately hugged by their parents. Al and Julia stumbled over to Mark and Hannah, forming an anxious huddle.
"It seems we have a number of minors who need protection," Mai spoke again when the relieved murmurs and sobs had subsided, "Who will take responsibility for them?"
Silence again, and Harry met Bob's gaze over Pete's head. Bob was staring intently, apparently trying to will Harry to action. Before the silence became unbearable, Harry pushed himself to his feet, swaying for a moment as his strength was reaching its end.
"I will," he announced, Bob's murmur of concurrence underlining his statement.
"Very well," Mai snarled, and broke the ritual space open, storming from the ballroom at once. Pete ran to Harry's side and he slid Bob's skull onto the seat of his chair so he could wrap an arm around the boy. Morgan approached carefully, and when Harry looked over at him, cleared his throat uneasily. Sheryl and Scott hurried into the room in Mai's wake, while Hannah and Mark pulled Julia and Al with them, to hear what was being said, Hannah staring at Harry with an expression that could best be described as hero worship.
"We will take the children to their homes and gather their belongings," Morgan offered, and Harry nodded, his mind whirling with the million and nine things that needed to be done now. Pete kicked up a fuss, hysteria in his voice when Morgan tried to take him away from Harry, insisting he wanted nothing from his parents house. Bob intervened, and Morgan took the other children away.
"Did we just adopt five children in five minutes?" Bob asked when it was just the five of them.
"Really?" Scott squeaked, "There will be more kids living here?"
Harry nodded and received an excited smile in return. Sheryl put her hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed lightly.
"Well," Bob trailed off, "We'll have our work cut out for us."
"Sheryl, I don't expect you…" Harry started, trying to find a way to say that he would take the responsibility, and didn't expect her help.
"Nonsense," Sheryl replied, "We're family Harry. Family sticks together. Scott's always wanted brothers."
"But not sisters," Scott grumbled and got his hair tweaked by his mother. Bob huffed in amusement, his eyes twinkling at the boy.
"You'll find, Master Scott, that sisters can be an unexpected boon," Bob counselled.
"I need to sort out rooms for them, and groceries, and…" Harry swayed again and Sheryl grabbed for him, pulling his arm around her waist and leading him to the door. He didn't have the strength to resist as Bob was still resting on Harry's empty chair, but Scott scooped Bob up at once, and Harry relaxed slightly.
"I'll go get groceries," she told him firmly, "Bob can show Scott which rooms they should have and the house can show them where to get linen and such for their beds, which they can make themselves, Harry. They'll be doing chores around here, or I'll know the reason why. And you are going to lie down, with Pete, because he didn't sleep at all last night, and I know you need to rest after whatever happened in here."
"Your uncle never threw anything away," Bob followed them down the hall, Scott carrying his skull carefully, "I would wager your old clothes are in the attic still, Master Pete may fit them. They'll do for now, at least. If Master Scott would retrieve my satchel, we could look them out."
"I can help," Harry insisted as he wobbled his way across the workroom and into his bedroom.
"Yes, by lying down in one spot and letting us get on with it, without worrying about you," Sheryl retorted firmly, "Take your shoes off Pete, and hop up on the bed."
Scott was already tucking Bob into the satchel and shortening the strap so he could wear it more comfortably. Sheryl got Harry onto the bed too, pulling off his shoes and putting them to the side. Pete rolled so his back was pressed to Harry's side, his head on Harry's arm and his hands clasping the adults' hand against his chest. Both fell asleep almost instantly, and Scott grinned, taking Bob out of the room, with his mother following.
"His wallet is in the top drawer of his desk, I believe there is enough there to purchase the staples at least. When he has had time to heal, Harry can speak to the accountant about setting up our finances to better care for the children," Bob gestured, "I will ensure that Master Scott is not harmed while you are out."
"Of course you will," Sheryl looked surprised, "Bob, I've never worried about him when he's with you."
"Milady," Bob bowed at the compliment, touched beyond belief, "Master Scott, if you would retrieve some chalk from the chalkboard over there…"
Sheryl turned to the desk and Bob took the chance to regain his composure.
12.
The day after the inquisition, an archivist, who was not one of Al or Julia's parents, came to the house to arrange the paperwork for what had essentially been an adoption. Mark and Hannah's father had already signed the papers before the children had left the house with the wardens last night, their mother having died several years ago, making the disowning final and complete. Julia didn't care either way, but Mark was clearly hoping his parents would change their mind. They hadn't in the end and both Harry and Sheryl had dealt with a bout of teen-aged anger from Julia as well as doldrums from ten year old Al.
Two weeks after that, a deputation of parents had arrived at the house, asking that their children be taught magic from both Harry and Bob. They had offered to pay tuition, and Harry had agreed to do it while Bob glared at him in aggravation. In the argument that followed when they were alone, which Bob hadn't really been invested in, as teaching was one activity which gave him real joy, they had thrashed out who would teach what, which rooms would be converted to schoolrooms downstairs, and how Harry would manage his work with the police along with the schooling he'd agreed to deliver to the communities children.
As Bob had won the 'you don't step foot out of this house without me' argument, he'd been forced to agree to Harry's timetable. They certainly hadn't been bored in the time since.
That had been four years ago, and the children that Harry and Bob had taken in had matured immensely. Mark and Julia both had applications in for college, Mark for engineering and Julia for nursing. They had completed four years of training with Harry and Bob and been declared competent to manage basic spells. Neither of them were particularly interested in going further with their education in that area, unlike their siblings who were sponges for arcane knowledge.
"Is this right?" Pete asked, stepping back from the chalkboard, and Harry looked it over from his chair. Pete had refused all magic lessons for the last four years. He'd recently asked to learn, and did surprisingly well with Bob's acerbic corrections of errors. Bob was taking the teens through their theory though, and had a group of twelve for five more minutes, so Harry was taking today's lesson.
Harry smiled, crossing his legs, "Well, not quite," he admitted, "That spell will change the colour of an orange. Have a look at the second declension again."
It was a little bit of deja vu. A young learner, though at thirteen Pete was older than Harry had been when he started, with an unexpected result due to a spelling error. They were even using the old chalkboard in the former schoolroom, though not in the corner where it had once stood. Pete scowled at the board, a little frustrated and then gasped and corrected his error.
"Well done," Harry grinned, "And nicely spotted too. I remember how hard it was to correct that sort of thing my first few times too."
"You accidentally changed the colour of an orange?" Pete squeaked and Harry sniggered, picking up a walnut from the fruit bowl beside him. He concentrated for a moment, and the walnut turned itself neatly inside out.
"Not quite," Harry held up the result to a now giggling teen, "But it sure beats having to crack the shells."
He offered the inside out nut to Pete, who pulled a piece off and popped it in his mouth.
"Tastes the same," Pete opined as Harry ate the other half, nodding thoughtfully.
"And that is the end of our lesson for the day," he informed the boy kindly, "Did you get a chance to get that biology homework done?"
"No, but there's a book in the library that Jules recommended, so I'm gonna go look at it now. Thanks for the lesson, Harry," Pete headed for the door as Harry stood up.
"You're welcome," Harry replied, because Bob had insisted on a strict level of manners with all the children and if Harry wanted to sleep at night he had to uphold those standards or be subjected to sixteenth century show tunes.
There was a crowd of teens in the hallway, let out from their lesson, heading for either the library or the front door and Harry returned greetings as he moved through them to collect Bob's skull from the larger dining room where classes were held.
"Good session?" Harry asked, slipping the skull into the satchel that hung from the fireplace mantel and Bob nodded, offering a small smile.
"They are showing some promise," Bob mused, walking towards Harry, "Certainly young Al has it in him to be quite a finessed wizard."
"Bye Harry! Bye Pops! See you after the movie!" Hannah's voice sounded from behind Harry in the doorway and Bob's eyes bugged out. It wasn't the now just tolerated nickname that had him raising his voice though.
"Hannah Dresden, get back here!" he could move swiftly for a ghost, given that small impediments like furniture or walls were no obstacle. Hannah reappeared, a scowl on her face. She wore a short white skirt and a very brief dark red top, with very thin straps.
"You are not going out in public looking like that!" Bob continued in an appalled tone, and Hannah pulled a face, looking to Harry for support. He kept his face neutral though, not too happy about the skimpiness of the top himself. She was in the start of gaining her figure, and Harry made a note to get Julia to help him take her bra shopping in the coming months. Having daughters had required him to learn about the other side of womanhood, not the side most single men with an active love life were familiar with. It had been mortifying at times, but no one was in therapy yet, so he figured they were doing ok.
"Pops! Everyone else is wearing it!" Hannah protested. This was true, most fourteen-year-old girls were wearing clothing just as revealing. Scott appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide. Once he realised who was arguing he rolled his eyes. Harry held the satchel out to him, and his apprentice slipped the strap over his head with a little grin.
"And if everyone else jumped off a bridge, I suppose you would too?" Harry wasn't sure where Bob had learned that particular modern phrase, but the deeply disappointed tone was universal to frustrated father's everywhere.
"Well gee, Pops, my friends aren't complete morons," being partially raised by a ghost who wielded sarcasm like the broadsword he'd once wielded in real life had certainly honed Hannah's tongue, "If they were jumping off I'm sure they'd have a good reason. Do you want me to stay on a dangerous bridge all alone?"
If Bob had blood pressure, Harry was pretty sure it would be dangerously high right now.
"Hannah, you are going to come with me," Harry informed her, "And Bob, Scott will take you where you'd like to go. We won't be long."
Hannah sulked along behind Harry, who went down into the basement, looking for the clothes that Pete had yet to grow into. Pete had developed a taste for dress shirts and jeans, and so Harry's old clothes were still quite acceptable to him. He was due a growth spurt in Harry's estimation, and Sheryl concurred, so they'd fished out another set of Harry's old shirts, as well as a few waistcoats in case the boy wanted to try something new. Harry found a navy blue waistcoat with a dark red pinstripe and had Hannah put it on, cinching the adjuster in the back to make it fit quite tightly. He had Hannah cast a mirror spell, and she approved of the new look with a sniff.
"You know, Pops just wants you to be safe. Back in the day, walking around in clothes that revealing… well, bad things could happen," Harry said quietly, "He does love you, you know."
"I know, Pa," Hannah released the spell, "I'll apologise."
"Thank you," Harry waved her upstairs. She was gone from their workroom by the time he arrived, though Bob at least looked calmer. Scott, sensible apprentice that he was, had placed Bob's skull on Harry's desk and scarpered.
"She apologised. I assume that was your idea?" Bob sniffed. Harry grinned. Bob was a sucker for a genuine apology, and all the kids had learned not to try a fake one with the Ghost.
"Bob, you have to understand. Her friends aren't magic. There's a whole part of her life she can't share without looking like a complete weirdo, and she just wants to fit in," Harry replied, scooping up the skull and moving over to the worktable. Bob shook his head, gesturing in exasperation as Harry joined him in the sunlight.
"Harry, in my day, any girl dressed like that in public was considered a harlot, and a cheap one at that!" Bob scowled. Any girl dressed like that in public would have met a horrific and traumatising death at the hands of men who would employ her body for their own lustful uses. Bob knew that the times had changed, but this was another child he was raising, and he wanted to protect them all, even if it was just from the lustful glances of the boys and men around them.
"Bob in your day, she'd be married with kids by now: or wearing a chastity belt," Harry retorted, a laugh in his tone.
"Don't tempt me," Bob hissed in reply and Harry actually laughed, the insolent whelp.
"She changed you know. She added clothing," Harry reminded his ghostly partner, "That's a huge concession, Pops."
Bob looked at Harry, who was wearing dress shoes, suit trousers, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a buttoned up waistcoat. He was a far cry from the scruffy, starving wizard he had once been, and he had made those changes to suit Bob's desire to see him comport himself as the community leader he'd become.
This was a wizard who treated a dead and damned sorcerer as a partner, who had brought said sorcerer children to be raised and taught with total trust that the cursed spirit would do so in good faith. Unlike previous masters who'd requested Bob train a young practitioner in a specific skill, Harry had never tried to lay down rules about what the children should learn, and Bob had never trespassed on that trust. And despite it all, he still hadn't been able to dissuade his boy, or his boy's children (could they be considered Bob's grandchildren? The mind boggled) from calling him Pops. Perhaps the reason was the emotions bathing his physical prison, leaking from Harry's strong and caring hands into the dead bone, something the wizard did without reservation. Being touched by Harry was like being touched by love.
"Yes," he said quietly, "You are right."
There was a knock at the workroom door and Harry turned to see Mark hovering there. He looked from one to the other with an unsure face and Harry put Bob's skull on the end of the worktable, moving to open a window against the fumes from the brewing they were going to do this afternoon.
"Come in, Mark," Bob waved a hand, his face becoming more cheerful, "We were discussing what passes for fashion in fourteen year old girls."
"Oh, Hannah?" Mark was not dumb either, "Yeah I told her you wouldn't like that outfit."
Harry leaned on the windowsill and crossed his ankles, "Is everything ok, Mark?"
Mark nodded, pulling three envelopes out of his pocket and coming to join Harry and Bob by the window.
"I got replies to my college applications, in the mail yesterday," Mark looked apprehensive, "I need to make a decision about where to go."
"Which colleges replied?" Harry asked, and Mark shuffled the letters out of their envelopes, laying them out on the table for Bob to read.
"MIT said they can't give me a scholarship, but they can offer me a place," Mark frowned, "But I don't want to go to Massachusetts. Purdue, in Indiana, can offer me a pretty good partial scholarship, and so can University of Illinois."
"Oh well done," Harry lunged upright and wrapped the young man in his arms, "That's excellent!"
Mark hugged back, his hands knotting in the silk of Harry's waistcoat for a moment. Praise from his biological father had been rare and always tempered with a criticism of something that could still have been better. Harry never praised without merit, but when he did it was wholehearted.
"We are both very proud of you, young man," Bob added warmly, "All three were in your top choices for engineering, weren't they?"
"Yeah," Mark let go with one hand, keeping one arm wrapped around Harry and leaning happily into his side. Harry was a very hands on parent, something that Bob supposed was to be expected from a child raised by an incorporeal being. The children all came to him for hugs and affection, and he gave it to them liberally.
"Do you have a preference?" Harry asked, "If you want to go to MIT, I can see what we can swing…"
"I don't," Mark pulled a face, "They're an amazing school, but I don't want to go there, Pa. I want to go to University of Illinois. Purdue can't offer me help with accommodation, and neither can Illinois, but if I go to Illinois I can still live here… can't I?"
"Of course you can," Harry squeezed his shoulders, "But if you want to go to Indiana we can help with the accommodation fees, or if you want to stay on campus here we can help with that too."
Bob reflected that Justin Morningway would be rolling in his grave at such an offer, and that was a good enough reason to make it on its own. The University wasn't the most prestigious that had offered a place, and Justin had been eager to get Harry out of the house. His wizard had been home schooled, so college had not been an option, so Justin had sent him off to travel the world as a sort of errand boy.
"I know you will Pa," Mark sighed, "I guess, I'm not ready to move out yet."
"Well, we're not about to run out of room here," Bob surmised, "Though it has been four years since Harry adopted anyone, so I make no promises…"
"Button it Bob," Harry grumbled while Mark sniggered at him, "If Illinois is where you want to go, then that is amazing and I am very proud of you. You worked hard for this, and you'll build amazing things."
"Thanks Pa," Mark grinned, "I'm gonna go tell Sheryl!"
He hustled out like a child of ten, and Harry sighed, looking at the three letters of offer on the table.
"You can't keep them forever, Harry," Bob said sadly and Harry shot him a look, "We've done all we can for him, it's time for him to move on."
"You trying to convince me or you?" Harry replied and gathered up the letters. He put them back in their envelopes and put them on his desk where they'd be safe, "Now all we have to wait for is to hear from Julia."
"The post isn't due for another forty minutes," Bob informed him, as if certain that now Mark had received his offers their eldest daughter would do the same, "Plenty of time to get the base for this potion started."
Bob had devised this potion himself, and had spent weeks talking it over with Harry, instructing him in each step. His wizard would need to be motion, timing and word perfect, so he supervised closely as Harry pulled out the ingredients for their potion and started and started crushing snail shells in the pestle. Bob moved to stand at the end of the table, arms folded across his chest, still clearly uneasy at the thought of losing either of their eldest children to college.
"You know that Julia got her acceptance letters last week," Harry said after a moment of grinding, the breeze at his back from the open window cooling him from the fiercely beating sun. Bob looked startled and then dismayed.
"She told you?" he asked, not voicing 'and not me': though he may as well have from the dismay in his tone. Julia seemed to prefer Harry over Bob when it came to confidences and disclosing her fears. She treated Bob with the respect his due, and listened to his opinions and advice with the same care she would listen to Harry, but there was something about Bob that reminded her of one of her former parents, and it created a small reserve between the two. Al wasn't bothered by any similarities that he'd noticed, which Harry was secretly relieved over.
"Al did," Harry sighed, keeping his movements slow and smooth. This was a slow release potion and the preparation steps had to be imbued with that purpose or it would be less effective, "She got a partial scholarship to Yale, and a full scholarship, including accommodation, to Johns Hopkins University. Yale was her first choice, because it was closer to where that one friend will be attending, but Johns Hopkins is the number one university for medicine."
"Well, yes, it was never in doubt that she'd do well," Bob replied, "After all her hard work, and hours of study and preparation. She practically lived in the library, both here and the public one in the city."
"She doesn't think we understand her though," Harry frowned, "Otherwise she'd have come to us when she got the letters. I think she's worried we'll force her choice."
"Yes well, I blame her parents," Bob muttered darkly, and Harry snorted at him.
"Technically, we are her parents, Pops," he said pointedly. Though Sheryl had been a maternal presence from time to time, Harry and Bob had taken on the lions share of raising five magical children, two of which were on probation with the High Council. They'd had some rocky starts, but all four siblings had settled into their new situation fairly easily. Pete had thrived, once he'd realised that the men now raising him were not violent when mistakes were made.
"The children took your name, Harry," Bob reminded him, and Harry shot him a sharp look.
"I asked, Bob," he reminded the Ghost, "The archivist said there was no way for you to add your name to theirs. I was happy for them to be Dresden-Bainbridge, remember?"
"Yes," Bob had almost wept when Harry had suggested his name in conjunction with his own. Ghosts were not permitted to legally parent children, but Harry had made it clear that Bob was as much a parent as he when their family formed and the youngest members had adopted the name 'Pops' for him pretty quickly. It had been Julia who christened Harry with the name of Pa, and the look on his wizards face was one Bob would always cherish.
"I meant her birth parents," Bob returned to his point, and Harry gave him a small smile. Bob didn't like to let go of a thread in his arguments, and Harry had come to appreciate that tenacity, "They let her down when she needed them the most, and it is no small leap to imagine us doing the same, to her and to Al."
"I know you wouldn't!" Julia exclaimed, popping up in the window. She was clearly standing in the garden bed, and had been listening for some time. Bob startled, stepping partially into the table, but Harry's hands never slowed or paused.
"You knew I was there," Julia squinted at Harry's back and he looked over his shoulder at her.
"I'm not reenacting Shakespeare with you, young lady. You can come in here and talk to us, or this can wait until you're ready," he informed her. Bob was always startled at how blunt Harry was with their eldest daughter, but she always seemed to respond better to that than flowery words. Julia rolled her eyes and hoisted herself up onto the window ledge, climbing inside. Bob moved out of the table and clasped one arm across his chest, the other bent to allow him to rest his fingers on his chin.
"You know, we've had doors for well over 900 years," Bob informed her and she snorted at him, folding her arms and leaning against the wall behind Harry, "The technology was well established even when I was alive."
"I would prefer to be able to see you," Harry said in a reminding tone, putting the pestle to one side and starting to slice the sriracha peppers on the table, his knife moving in an even pace. Julia sighed and moved to stand next to Bob.
"Congratulations," Bob murmured, "On both acceptances."
"Thanks," Julia replied, not meeting his eyes, "I guess… I should have told you."
"You can tell us now," Harry invited, "It's never too late to tell me things Julia. I've said that before."
"I know Pa," Julia shifted uncomfortably, "And I know you're not going to be like Them. I do, it's just… They want me to be a warden."
"They," neither Harry or Bob used her biological parents names, following her and Al's lead on this, "Don't get a say. While I might have an opinion, and sometimes we have to put our collective foot down, your future is yours. You want to be a nurse, and you've worked so hard to get to this point. Pops and I are so very proud of you sweetheart. More than I can ever say."
"Thanks," this time the word was not grudging, and she blinked hard a few times, "I don't know what to do though… can you help me?"
"We'd be honoured," Bob spoke up, "As I am not familiar with this method of choosing a school, why don't you explain these acceptances to me?"
Julia's face lit up and she launched into a thorough explanation of what each school was offering and the reputation of them. Bob nodded when she was done, glancing at Harry who had moved on to tying herbs into bundles of increasing size.
"Yale was your first choice?" Bob asked when Harry didn't pause in his work, "I believe you said that once?"
"Yes, but the offer from Johns Hopkins is so much better, and it is the number one school for medicine. I'd be mad not to go there," Julia sighed, "Plus it is a bit closer."
"How far away is it?" Bob's modern geography was good, but he was terrible at estimating travel time as his frame of reference was still pretty much the horse or on foot.
"It's in Maryland, and it would take about 12 hours to drive there," Harry replied without looking up, "Yale is further away again, but not so much that it matters."
"So insufficient difference to make a decision based on that alone," Bob mused, "What of your friend? They were going to be close to Yale I believe, or attending Yale?"
"They didn't get into the school that they wanted," Julia frowned, "They're not going to school near John Hopkins either."
"So that removes them from consideration," Bob nodded, not letting his relief show. He had fought with Harry over the desirability of said friend, and the foolishness of allowing their daughter to choose a school based on such a poor connection. Harry had counselled patience, being of the opinion that making their disapproval too obvious would push Julia to a poor decision. Evidently he'd read the young man's academic abilities better than Bob had.
"That leaves your offers, and which you feel would be best for your future," Bob smiled at her, and she smiled back a little, "Do you feel pulled to accept one over the other?"
"I really like the idea of going to Johns Hopkins," Julia admitted, "It would give me more options later in my career, too, if I do well. But its still so far away."
"Are you worried about Al?" Harry asked neutrally, filling the copper based pot he was about to start brewing in with a careful measure of 50 year old whiskey from Justin's cellars. This was why the window was open, he didn't want to end up too drunk to brew properly, and he had never been one for drinking to excess either. He'd certainly never been intoxicated once the children were adopted.
"No!" Julia exclaimed, "Not worried. You would never let anything happen to him Pa, I know that. You almost died the day we met trying to save me from my mistakes, and you didn't even know me then. It's… I think I'll be lonely without you all."
This was the first time she had ever blatantly said that she would miss them, that she was attached to them at all, and Bob covered his lips for a moment, blinking rapidly. Harry left the flame beneath the pot unlit and came over to hug her comprehensively.
"I love you too sweetheart, and I know for a fact that I will miss you every day," Harry said in her ear. She clutched hold of him for a moment, and then pulled back to reach out and stroke Bob's skull, imparting her feelings to him the only way she could.
"I do believe that is why your ancestors invented telephones," Bob said drily, though he wasn't fooling anyone. Julia smiled though, and let go of Harry.
"Then I better send my acceptance to Johns Hopkins," she informed them. She kissed Harry on the cheek and hurried from the room. Harry took a deep breath and then looked at Bob, who was unable to conceal his emotions sufficiently.
"She'll be fine," Harry mumbled and went back to light the flame under the pot. He brewed in silence, while Bob stared out the window for a while. Once he was back under control, he looked at his wizard, who was stirring methodically as he added a pinch of snail at a time.
"There have been times, dearest boy, which have made me wish that my captor would just destroy me and send me to the eternal torment that waits," Bob said and Harry glanced up at him, "But these last few years… well. It's not such a bad existence, after all."
Harry grinned, muttering the incantations under his breath as he added the first of the herbs. There was an enormous puff of smoke, to be expected at this stage and the house threw more windows open as Harry practically disappeared from view. Choking violently, if the noise could be believed
"Oh, did I forget to warn you about that reaction?" Bob smiled wickedly, "How remiss of me. That's what you get for not telling me she was listening under the window when you started our conversation."
Harry caught his breath and glared through the faint haze still lingering in the room. From the glint in his eye, Bob was in for a lecture of his own once all the encanting and stirring was finished. He didn't mind. Even dead and damned sorcerers had to find their fun some way, after all.
End