Disclaimer – Jim Butcher owns these characters. All I get out of this is telling a story in the TV Verse
Baked In
Sequel of sorts to Burnt Out – all the snippets of Harry and Bob and the house being themselves. Plus some small case fics, and well 'five kids in five minutes: ask me how' has some distinct possibilities… consider this well and truly alternate universe
o0o0o
Accidental introduction
They'd been arguing for the past 30 minutes of the 40 minute drive, which was being made worse by the fact that they were stuck in early morning rush hour traffic and had been stop starting for the majority of the journey.
It was hot, it was sticky, even this early in the morning, and Harry just knew that he would be quicker if he got out and walked, but since Bob couldn't drive, that was not an option. Also, Harry would never just abandon his mentor like that, no matter how aggravated he got.
It wasn't Bob's fault. They'd spent the night trying to pin down a ghost of some sort for a paying client. Bob thought it was a poltergeist, or maybe even a wraith, and Harry was of the opinion that it was a revenant. Bob held himself to be an expert on this sort of thing, and Harry didn't argue that Bob's insight was somewhat unique, but he wasn't getting a poltergeist vibe.
The problem was that banishing a poltergeist was very different to banishing a revenant, and Bob was understandably against any of Harry's 'game time' decisions. Banishing a poltergeist needed a certain degree of preparation and paraphernalia. Being unprepared led to injury and Harry had only just stopped limping from the wound to his abdomen.
"… no, no, no, Harry!" Bob was yelling at this point, his arms actually waving in frustration, uncaring of the cars around them, "You cannot seriously mean to suggest that you can switch from one ritual to another in mid stream without repercussion!"
The car beside them beeped it's horn before Harry could reply, and a familiar voice called, "Hey, do I need to call a cop?"
Bob looked mortified, but Harry laughed, pleased for the distraction, if only for the moment. Also Bob's expression was priceless. He leaned forward to look past Bob at the unmarked police sedan stuck beside them in traffic.
"Good morning, Murph. May I present Bob Bainbridge? Pops, this is Murphy," Harry waved a hand and Bob took a deep breath. He still hadn't been able to muster the will to make Harry stop using that nickname.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Murphy," he offered a small bow of the head, at his most 'well behaved ordinary person, nothing to see here' best, "Harry speaks of you often and with great respect."
"He'd better," Murphy shot Harry a look and Harry grinned back, his best innocent boy look, "It's nice to meet you, Bob. Are you in town long?"
Evidently she'd decided that Bob was visiting, and Bob brightened at the out she'd given him. If she thought he was from out of town they would be able to excuse his absences whenever she called unexpectedly.
"I live a very peripatetic lifestyle these days, Lieutenant. I can never tell when I'll be travelling," he shrugged, which was true. He did get out a lot more now their house had burnt down. Harry was still reluctant to leave him behind, and Bob was reluctant to be left.
"We still on for dinner tomorrow night, Murph?" Harry called, and she nodded, "I assume Anna will be ok with Chinese?"
"I'm sure she'll force herself to eat a morsel," Murphy called back, "Though she's pretty excited to meet those kids of yours."
Which meant that Murphy was pretty interested herself. She'd called a couple of days after the consult to say she'd caught her guy (Harry never doubted she would) and then mentioned that school finished that week for the summer and she was having Anna for the first few weeks. Harry had invited her to dinner, and Anna too.
"Will you be joining us Bob?" Murphy asked, and Bob shook his head.
"Alas, I had already made other plans," he replied, which was also true. He was going to spend some time going through the books in the small study that Harry had used as a teen, for consolidation into the main library. Harry had been serious about not walking from room to room to find books, "Perhaps some other time?"
The traffic rolled ahead, and since Harry was turning off, he waved to Murphy, who wound her window back up. They drove for a moment and silence, Bob reflecting that it was nice to meet Harry's other partner in the flesh, as it were. Harry was just cherishing the silence.
"Where were we?" Bob asked after a moment and Harry groaned.
0o0o0
Accidental career
Summer holidays meant six children to watch after, which Harry supposed was both good and bad. They had a huge garden to play in, even the teens, and all of them had bikes, luckily. Harry had found one for Pete, and while it was second hand from an early summer yard sale, Pete had been pleased. Al and Hannah had taken it on themselves to teach him how to ride, which kept them busy.
Scott had made plans with his friends living either side of the mansion, and Harry thought that his three youngest would end up joining that mixed age group. Scott's friends didn't have powers, which would curb any urge to experiment with their youngest children at least. Mark and Julia tended to alternate between moping around the manor, the gardens, or walking through the woods. Harry thought that they were avoiding the clearing, and Bob was convinced of it, having watched them from the roof one afternoon while Harry was working up there to cast a few long range spells that he'd needed for a case.
Harry had also been contemplating their finances. The three accounts that Justin had been hiding came to a tidy sum, which he and the kids could live off for at least ten years if he was careful. This was long enough to get them all through school and into college, if that was where they wanted to go. He knew very little about the kids ambitions, or their preferences for that matter. So far they'd eaten every meal he'd ever put in front of them without complaint, and he'd dug into his repertoire pretty deeply. His time travelling abroad had expanded his culinary horizons, and the kids seemed to enjoy the variety. They didn't argue about watching whatever Sheryl deemed acceptable (Harry didn't watch a lot of TV and spent the time in the front parlour reading in a chair that had the worst view of the screen while Bob stood behind everyone, usually looking appalled.) If Bob recommended a book it was read, and while there were the to-be-expected grumbles, chores were done, and done properly: which meant to Bob and Sheryl's standards.
Harry had a feeling once they'd had a chance to settle in, things would get more lively.
Bob had suggested that he start the children's theoretical lessons, and Harry had decided that a morning school session would give them some structure, with the afternoons free to do as they would. Bob had argued that the teens should be in full time magical theory, as they were so far behind where Harry had been at that age, but Harry knew they'd have a mutiny on their hands very quickly if he tried to force the kids to spend their summer holiday's indoors. Bob had acquiesced eventually, and conceded that having their younger siblings in the classroom with them would help the teenagers to buckle under and pay better attention. Bob had also agreed that giving the children the first week of the holidays to adjust would be politic, so Harry had put off mentioning the lessons until the coming weekend.
Which was why education was very much on Harry's mind when Scott came scooting in through the door of the former schoolroom just before dinner, eyes round and a slightly panicked look on his face.
"Harry! Bob!" Scott squeaked, "There is like, six cars in the drive, and some of them have kids from, you know, the bad ritual, and their parents!"
"Thanks Scott," Harry smiled, not showing his initial concern, "We'll come and talk to them."
Mark and Julia were already talking to some of the teens in the driveway in a desultory kind of way, uneasy under the eyes of their former parent's peers. Bob made a small noise under his breath and Harry shot him a look. Bob's protective instincts had only gotten sharper with the arrival of the kids.
"Good afternoon," Harry said loudly enough to be noticed, and the adults all hurried towards him.
"Wizard Dresden, I'm Alana," from her looks she was Saskia and Bjorn's mother, "We were hoping to speak to you and … your associate?"
That was the politest way that any member of the magical community had addressed Bob in all of their time together and Harry was reluctantly impressed. His feeling of foreboding eased a little, and he turned away from the house, which was feeling quite resistant to the idea of so many magical adults entering it.
"Certainly," he said, "If you'll come this way. It's a nice day; I should really spend some time outside."
His house, his rules, he'd told Mai, and it seemed that Alana at least had taken it very much to heart because she didn't so much as blink as she followed him around to the vine covered gazebo to the side of the house, the other adults following them as well.
Harry took a seat on the low stone wall at the end of the gazebo, leaving the other seats and benches for his guests. He'd brought a few meals out here with the kids and Sheryl in the evening, so he knew there was plenty of space for the small crowd he was faced with now. The jasmine scented the air pleasantly, and he waited until everyone had settled down, though most were sitting a bit stiffly.
"How can I help Saskia and Bjorn's mom?" Harry asked with a friendly smile, deciding Alana may as well be designated the spokes-lady, "I hope they've been ok?"
"Yes," Alana sighed, "And I want to thank you for that; he could have died… it doesn't bear thinking about."
"You're welcome," Harry nodded, and Bob folded his hands together at his waist. This seemed to spur Alana into coming to her point a bit quicker.
"I… what you said about the children's magical knowledge at their trial," Alana shrugged a little, "It is, of course, totally true. They haven't had the education that they should, not in the fundamentals, not the way you were educated."
"My teacher was indeed exceptional," Harry didn't have to glance at Bob, the adults in front of him were already well aware who stood before them, "And I wasn't attending high school, so my education with him was full time. I do understand that your circumstances are different."
"Yes, well," Alana sighed, "They shouldn't be. We should be able to teach them to practice the laws and the lore safely. But between our work, their schooling… it just hasn't been possible to teach them with as much depth as is clearly needed."
"And I can't teach," someone muttered at the back of the group, "I'm terrible at it."
"This is true for many of us," Alana agreed without looking back at the man who'd spoken, "And so we were wondering if you would consider… teaching the children the fundamentals they've missed."
Harry wondered if he'd hit his head earlier and not noticed. His reputation alone, and Bob's for that matter, should have made this request unthinkable to the community.
"You do know who I am," Bob drawled from beside Harry, "And what I have done in life?"
"Yes," Alana took a deep breath, her voice tinged with a touch of bitter self recrimination, "But recently one of the most feared members of our community almost died saving the lives of my children simply because my baby girl thought it was safer to go to him than any of us: so clearly past reputation is not any indicator of who is trustworthy."
"I see," Harry murmured, trying to break the tension, politely ignoring the reference to his reputation, "So you'd prefer that your children attend lessons here during the summer break?"
"And beyond, if things work out," Alana nodded, shooting him a grateful look for driving the conversation forward, "We'd want them to get the best education we can."
"We're already planning on teaching the kids in the morning," Harry looked up at Bob, who was giving him a 'speaking look', "We could add a few more in. Once we've got them across the theory, we can start practical, but that won't be for a few months yet which would give us all time to work this out. If it isn't working for us at the end of summer, we can end the arrangement."
"We'd expect to pay," Alana said, "I know that it's not traditional for students to pay, but…"
"You don't want us to apprentice them?" Bob asked, sounding slightly outraged, "That is most irregular."
"No," another mom spoke up, "If they're apprenticing with you, they'd need to live with you and drop out of school, and I want my kids to finish school. I'd feel better paying for your expertise, than losing my son."
"I do already have an apprentice starting next year," Harry reminded Bob, "And of course the kids living here aren't being apprenticed, they're our kids. This wouldn't be so different, we just won't be housing most of our students, which we're not really set up for anyway. The house isn't infinite after all."
"That is hardly the point," Bob snapped, "How are we expected to inculcate proper knowledge into part time students?"
"Bob, we wouldn't have to cover the basics. These kids can already read and write. The classics, the basics for arithmetic, and history and all that would be handled by their teachers at school. All we'd have to do is deal with the magical side of things, and the languages their schooling doesn't cover," Harry said evenly, "Between the two of us, that should be ok."
Bob folded his arms and scowled, but said nothing more. Harry knew he was in for an argument when they were alone, but that was ok. He was more interested in making sure that the children of the community didn't face the situation that had led to the adoption of his current family.
"The archivists have suggested a schedule of payment," Alana said after a moment, "And if you tell us when you'd want them here and for how long, we can work out a payment schedule."
"Ok," Harry took a deep breath, "If you'll leave me your contact details, Master Bainbridge and I will let you know when we want to start and the cadence of the lessons."
Bob's title was deliberate, as he had technically been Harry's master when he'd been a child. He could almost feel Bob's shock at the address, but none of the adults in front of him seemed astonished. Alana had at least anticipated this, and handed Harry a piece of paper with names and contact numbers, as well as the names and ages of the children that would be attending. Harry stood and thanked people quietly, shaking hands with the parents that came to speak to him personally. He and Bob walked them back to the front of the house, and watched as various children were called back to the cars. Their own children joined them under the portico as the cars pulled away, clearly curious.
"Are they really coming here for lessons?" Julia asked, and Harry nodded. It didn't miss his attention that Pete went a dirty grey colour at the news.
"Pops and I will work out the details, but all of you are going to start lessons with us next week anyway," Harry told her, "We'll talk it over properly tomorrow, ok?"
"You promised!" Pete blurted. Harry watched him run inside, and sighed.
"I'll talk to him," he told Al, who had moved to follow his new brother, "Put the bikes away please, dinner will be soon."
"Ok Harry," Al nodded, giving him a long look, "He's kind of scared of learning to use his powers."
"He told me that," Harry agreed, while Bob fidgeted at the end of his freedom, "It's ok Al, I promise nothing will happen to him that he can't deal with."
Al nodded and Hannah came to help him get Pete's bike put away. Bob walked ahead of Harry into the house, and they followed the lights the house lit to show them where Pete had gone. Up to the roof as it turned out, and Harry watched as Bob folded himself down beside the shivering boy at once, murmuring quietly to him. Harry gave them a moment, knowing how good Bob was at comforting a distraught child. When Bob gestured to him, Harry came and sat with his legs folded beneath him.
"I know that I promised," he said before Pete could speak, "And I'm keeping that promise, Pete. You don't have to learn the magic. But you will have to do some learning this summer, and I'm willing to negotiate it with you."
"What sort of learning?" Pete squinted, willing to listen after Bob had reassured him.
"Well, the gardens will need to be worked," Harry said, "The ones I use for ingredients, not the whole garden. You'll need to learn how to tend them, and what the plants are for. We'll do that together, in the afternoons. Or the evening sometimes instead."
Because they would have to find a way to work in the days that he was called out by Murphy still. He would talk that over with Bob though. Maybe they'd have to consult in emergencies only, during the school holidays. Pete thought it over carefully and Harry gave him time. He knew the other children would not be pleased if Pete got out of the mandatory learning, and this was a way around it, if they could talk Pete into it. It hadn't passed his notice that Al was sticking up for his new brother, something that made him feel like the family was going to work out.
"Do I have to make stuff with what we grow?" Pete asked. Harry shook his head. Alchemy required a degree of magic and that would violate his promise.
"No," Bob said quietly, "But you will have to harvest and preserve what you grow for us. Harry and I will advise you every step of the way."
"I've never grown stuff before," he muttered, "What if I make a mistake?"
"The plants might die, or not grow as well as they could," Harry shrugged, "That could happen if I do it by myself too though. We've never had a full growing season here, and I've never grown my own ingredients on this scale either. Bob's the one with all the experience."
"Would you be mad at me?" Pete wouldn't meet their eyes, and Harry wanted to hit something. If he was understanding the question properly, Pete was asking about punishment, which was synonymous with adults being mad.
"Pete, I'm gonna get mad at some point, you know. Maybe not over the garden, maybe over something else you've done that I asked you not to, or maybe over something that you didn't do when you should have. I can't promise to never get mad," Harry sighed, his hands loose in his lap, "But I promise, I will never ever hit you, or any of your brothers or sisters. I might yell, I might send you to your room, or ground you, but I will never ever hit any of you."
"Harry has never once harmed someone under his protection," Bob spoke up, "He has been the kindest, most considerate… he has been my student, and is now my partner, something I've never ever had before, not even when I lived. My existence has only improved the longer we've been together. He will take care of you: even when you don't want it."
Pete looked at Bob out of the corner of his eye, at the expression of vulnerable truth on his face, and then nodded.
"Ok, I'll learn about the plants and growing them and stuff," Pete sighed, "And I'll do my best, but I'm stupid, so …"
"You are not stupid!" Bob snapped, "And I won't have you repeating the lies of people who should never have been allowed to breed!"
"Bob," Harry warned, worried that Pete would be frightened by the shouting, and Bob snarled, disappearing into his skull in a swirl of angry smoke and embers. Pete hadn't flinched, perhaps because he already knew that Bob shouting did not lead to hitting. After all, a ghost couldn't touch him.
"You're not stupid," Harry told Pete, "It's hard to learn when you're scared. It's gonna be ok though. You and me, we'll work it out together, ok?"
"Ok," Pete sighed. His stomach rumbled and he blushed, ducking his head. Harry laughed though and got up, swinging out a hand to pull Pete up, which the boy took after a moment of thought. Harry pretended not to notice the hesitation.
"I put chicken strips in to marinate earlier, come help me fry them up," Harry suggested, and Pete grinned.
"Are we having fries with them?" he asked brightly and whooped when Harry nodded. Harry had bought some frozen fries with this weeks groceries, and was planning a salad, using some of the produce they'd grown in their garden to go with the chicken and fries. Pete charged ahead, leading the way to the kitchen. At least the kid had an appetite.
O0o0o
Harry was getting used to bedtimes. Once he'd been able to get up the stairs, he'd walked the kids up, seen the younger ones into their beds with the lights off and the two teens into their beds to read for an hour. The house would turn their lights off and extinguish their candles after that. Sheryl would put Scott to bed and then either retire to her own sitting room, or come back downstairs to watch the TV.
Bob preferred not to attend bedtime. Harry wasn't sure why, though the Ghost had never put him to bed as a child either. Bob preferred to wait downstairs and either join Sheryl to watch her shows (TV was such a novelty to him and Harry did his best to avoid the appliance so it wouldn't die) or enjoin Harry to take him to the library or their workroom, where they would work or read together until Harry decided to go to bed.
Tonight, Bob had instructed Harry to meet him in the workroom and requested Scott take him there before he went upstairs with his mother. He'd been his usual self with the children, who had come to accept him quickly, but he hadn't spoken directly to Harry since the roof.
Harry had warned the house that there was likely to be shouting as he'd gone downstairs, and not to be concerned. The house had watched Bob scold and lecture Harry about getting injured in the past, but it had never seen them do more than bicker in their daily dealings with each other. Sometimes the bickering was heated, but mostly it was the comfortable teasing of two men who knew each other very well. This was not going to be one of those discussions though.
Sure enough, Bob was glaring with the heat of a thousand suns before Harry had even finished closing the door to the workroom.
"How could you?" Bob snarled at him, "How could you mock me in front of all those people?"
"I wasn't mocking you, Master Bainbridge," Harry replied, leaning on the edge of his desk, "You are, after all, my Master. My uncle apprenticed me to you, though he was so ignorant that he never realised that he had. My powers recognise you as my Master, my teacher, and my partner. You can't feel that when I touch you?"
Bob's skull was on his desk, but Harry wasn't about to touch it until Bob acknowledged the truth of what he was saying. It smacked of manipulation and deceit to touch him now. Bob had paused, an arrested look on his face, and then drew a shuddering breath. Harry had never said quite so plainly what Bob was to him, and he was beginning to realise he'd done the Ghost a disservice, preserving that bit of distance. Bob's whole existence was at a remove from the one Harry lived in, the whole world intangible to him. As uncomfortable as Harry was with the idea of being so blatant with Bob, it wasn't fair to keep hinting around.
"I called you Pops for a reason you know," Harry continued after a moment, "I have a Dad, Bob. But I also have you, and it's not really our thing to sit around declaring love for each other, but for whatever it's worth, you have that too."
Bob turned away sharply, trying to get his expression back under control. Bob may have called Harry a child of his heart, which was positively sappy for the usually cranky man, but Harry had never been so direct before. Harry waited patiently, knowing the argument wasn't over, and that Bob would just roll right on past his declaration to the rest of the argument.
"Be that as it may," and there it was, "I would appreciate in the future if you would at least do me the courtesy of warning me, before you sell me to the community!"
"So you don't want to teach? And you don't want to be recognised for your skill and expertise? Cos I can teach them myself, Bob, but you would be better at it," Harry ignored the charge of prostitution for a moment, knowing that it wasn't what Bob really meant, "We can't take them in as traditional apprentices, we don't have the resources, the time, and quite frankly I wouldn't have the patience to raise an entire school. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to the kids. You know, the five kids that we welcomed into our bloodline last week?"
"I am well aware that you have tilted at the biggest windmill of your career to date. Parenthood will test you in a way that even the worst of demons won't," Bob smirked at him, and Harry grinned back, well aware that those who knew him were certain that he was in way over his head. To be fair, he knew he was too, but he couldn't find it in himself to mind. The kids weren't to blame for their parents shitty decisions after all. Plenty of parents had fumbled their way through their child's life and the child had turned out just fine. And he had faith that Bob would be there to level out his decisions.
"Look, we need the income, and I can't do it alone. I'd be doing the students a disservice not to give them the best teacher I could, and … well you always seemed to enjoy teaching me stuff, even now."
"You're not the worst apprentice I've ever had," Bob condescended, "And I suspect you will fare better than the others once you complete your apprenticeship."
"Cheek," Harry muttered, but didn't really kick at the implication that he hadn't graduated yet. There were times when he felt like a babe in the woods, especially in comparison to his only magical yard stick, a well over nine hundred year old ghost.
"Look, my plan was that we both take classes. They're all beginners anyway, so you either take on the teens, or you take on the little ones, and I'll do whichever class you miss. Or we can split it by subject and you do the laws and history of magic and I'll do the fundamentals of the seasons and sabbat's. We can move on to language and arithmancy once they've got that down pat; and we can split them for the practicums. I was thinking we can use the ballroom for that one. After all the times I nearly blew up your school room, that makes the most sense, and we don't have another use for that room."
"You don't intend to throw balls?" Bob asked archly. Harry shook his head, a reluctant grin tugging at his lips. Fancy parties weren't his style, and wouldn't be, no matter how long he lived here.
"Not unless they're spherical and its too rainy to do it outside with the kids," Harry retorted. Bob snorted at him and folded his arms.
"We will split according to subjects," he informed Harry, "And I will use the library, as the references I will need will be there."
"Ok," Harry nodded, "We can rearrange it, so that it suits your needs. I can pull the covers in the large dining room, and we still have some bookcases from the small library that will fit either side of the fireplace. I can shift the books I need for the sabbats and seasons into there, and swap them out when we move on. If we take down the paintings, I can get some chalkboards up on the wall opposite the fireplace, and they can work at the table."
He remembered how Bob had taught, and thought he would be able to mimic that style for the most part.
"We'll swap them mid morning," Bob mused, "That way they will be less likely to lose focus."
"I'll make sure they bring books and pens with them," Harry nodded, "Parchment and dipping quills are all well and good, but there is no way I'm paying to supply a small schools worth of them."
"And in the afternoon, you'll work with Pete?" Bob mused, "The plants only need the most basic of tending at the moment."
"Yeah, which is a good time to ease him into it. By the time the harvest comes around, he'll have enough of the basics down that he will be ok with it all, and I'll slip some plant lore into what we're doing. You're welcome to come with, to supervise. It's your garden after all Pops."
"And don't you forget it," Bob sniffed, "Very well, I accept your terms."
"Thanks, your ghostliness," Harry gave him an eye roll, and stood up straight, "I'm heading for bed, back in a moment."
"So early? You're still tired, then," Bob went from smug to fretting so fast it could give a man whiplash, and Harry shook his head.
"A little," he acknowledged, "But less every day, so please don't fret about it."
Bob was waiting when he got back from the bathroom though, and stuck his hand into Harry's abdomen without so much as a by-your-leave. Harry jumped but stood still for it, feeling Bob's own worry and roiling concern under the sharp boundaries of the curse. Even the house felt worried, the air around the door slightly cooler than the hallway.
"You are still healing internally," Bob murmured, "Why didn't you say you were still experiencing pain?"
"Because we invented aspirin for a reason, Pops?" Harry rolled his eyes again, "As long as I don't over stretch and don't over do, it's fine. It's just a low level pain, that I only notice if I've done something I shouldn't. Its not bad enough to need any of the potions either, you know I don't like to take them. Now, I'm going to bed, do you want to go to the library?"
He scooped Bob's skull up when the Ghost shook his head, and headed for his bedroom. He pretended not to notice Bob's expression as the Ghost clearly paid attention to the sensations that came from Harry's touch on his skull. From the slightly pink cheeks, Bob had finally got the message loud and clear.
0o0o0