The lost child

by shedoc

a 'what if' reimagining of when Bob and Harry first meet. What if Harry ran away when his father died. How would that change things (spoilers for What About Bob and mentions of sex) Mild slash

2. Chapter 2

The lost child

Disclaimer – not mine, Jim Butcher is the owner, and there's no money in this for me.

TV Verse, alternate universe, slash (and I'm gonna play fast and lose with cannon, so be aware of that going in)

What if Harry ran away when his father died? How would that have changed Justin's plans… and Hrothbert of Bainbridge.

2.

The second diversion

Hrothbert remained in his skull for several days. It was not that he was sulking or that he was hurt by Dresden's behaviour. He had spent a great deal of time both in the company of Dresden, and alone, absorbing information. Retiring to his skull was oddly restful, even if he wasn't able to experience fatigue the way he had when alive. He still wasn't any further ahead in determining the rules by which Dresden expected him to behave. He'd tested the waters several times, and each time Dresden had either refused to notice the attempt to garner punishment, or hadn't acted upon it. The two weeks before the others arrived had been… peaceful and safe. He'd begun to feel a degree of comfort in Dresden's presence, and couldn't deny that the man was also attractive. Knowing that the man was … open to a wider range of sexual experience made his fantasies both more intriguing and futile. There was no way that Dresden would ever regard him as anything more than the dead and damned sorcerer that he had acknowledged himself to be on the eve of his former masters death.

Knowing that Dom, a being that was decidedly inhuman, was treated with affection and care didn't help. Dom was at least tangible, and Dresden could make a connection with him that the ghost of Hrothbert of Bainbridge could not. Of course, he was bound to Dresden in a way that Dom was not, but he blocked that connection with every fibre of his being. His former masters connections had all been painful, disgusting things, that reminded him of how unclean and abandoned he really was. He'd come to like Dresden, a little at least, and feeling that same sensation from him would trouble Hrothbert more than with any other master.

By the time he emerged, Ingrid, a blonde, lush woman had joined them. He emerged into the middle of a discussion, with all four of Harry's fellow apprentices present. They were arguing at the next table, several charts and maps spread out beside them. Various crystals, pencils and tools for calculation were littered on the table and the conversation stopped as he appeared. Never a comfortable experience, though he always presented a veneer of indifference to it.

"May I present Hrothbert of Bainbridge?" Dresden said with a smile, "Bob, that's Wendy, Luke and Ingrid."

Hrothbert gave them a small bow and Luke straightened from where he was bending over. He was a well built man, light brown hair and closely trimmed beard. He had a jawline that could be used to club a dinosaur into submission and a chest built like a barrel. When he spoke, it was with a deep baritone, and a cultured accent.

"Hrothbert, if you would, could you check this for us? We are at a stalemate," Luke waved him over and Hrothbert approached the table, looking over the charts and equations they were working with.

"Is this a variant of Dee Voy's equation?" he checked, instantly drawn into the complexity they were working with.

"Yes," Wendy, a willowy woman from Japan, her long dark hair pulled into a neat bun, her neatly tailored clothes wrinkle free, made a moue of distaste, "It is unnecessarily complicated if you ask me. We'd be much better off with Vimter's precise."

"Not for finding inanimate objects travelling by mundane means," Ingrid corrected, an indulgent tone to her voice. Ravi made an impatient gesture and stalked off to the bathroom, almost slamming the door behind him.

"And may I properly enquire what it is that you are seeking?" Hrothbert ran his finger above the page where the arithmancy was laid out. There was a moment of silence and he looked up to find everyone looking at Harry, who looked disconcerted. There was another pad of paper in front of him and he was working an arithmancy problem of his own, slouched comfortably over his work.

"What?" he asked, "He's not going to be able to figure out if you're on the right track without knowing what you're looking for. He doesn't need my permission to ask a question, for stars sake people!"

"Have you told him of our task?" Ingrid prompted and Harry threw his pencil down, leaning on his hands instead.

"I was going to wait until we were all here," he told them, then quirked a self-deprecating smile, "All the better to ensure I explain it properly."

"At least you know how bad you are at verbal communication," Wendy muttered, clearly still sulking over being corrected.

"She says of the man who speaks six languages fluently," Ravi said from the bathroom door, coming to stand beside Luke. Harry grinned, but waved a hand at Wendy, who folded her hands neatly before her, looking Hrothbert over closely. He put his hands behind his back and gave her his blandest, most autocratic look, and was secretly pleased to see her disconcerted by it.

"There is a certain group of people, of which Morningway was one, who believe in five years time that there will be a convergence that will allow them to establish a beachhead into another realm. Within this realm, they believe they will find easily suborned beings that will allow them to achieve total world domination. An inexhaustible army, impervious to mortal weapons, and very difficult to kill magically," Wendy stated, "Master Haggis believed they were wrong. He believed that either the convergence would not lead them where they wanted to go, or that the realm they intend to establish a connection to would in fact subsume all life on earth. He has charged us, as his apprentices, to stop this."

"How came he to be aware of it?" Hrothbert asked, appalled and showing it. He'd known that Morningway's appetite for power knew no bounds, but this was madness. Even at the peak of his own madness Hrothbert had known better than to use beings from other realms for an army.

"They approached him when he was young, looking for a lorist," Ingrid spoke up, "He declined them, but he had enough information to put together what they were doing, and in the intervening years he came up with a way to stop them."

"He didn't live to see the plan out," Harry said quietly, grief on his face and in his voice. Ingrid moved to put an arm across his shoulders, "And now its up to us to stop it."

"You said to me, in our first conversation here, that you wished my assistance," Hrothbert mused.

"I also said you had a choice, Bob," Harry reminded him, straightening and smiling at Ingrid, "I don't know if Morningway had you that deeply in his confidence or not, but you do have the choice to turn down my request. I'll do what I said. There is a place I can put you, where you will be safe. I'll make sure you've got plenty to read. Either we'll succeed or we won't but I can't chance a… quisling."

Hrothbert noticed that Dresden hadn't attempted to compel a true answer to 'did you know about this already?' and also that he wasn't attempting to extract an oath of assistance from the Ghost either. Hrothbert could care less about the world and its innocents, as they had no regard for him either. But here was a master who had, in the short amount of time they'd been together, extended an open degree of courtesy and acceptance that had been lacking for the last almost one thousand years. One who could argue theory and magic with a dead and damned sorcerer in good humour. He was hungry to be treated as a being of worth on his own merit, he could admit it, if only to himself. He was loathe to see this master die attempting a task so noble in intent. He didn't think that Dresden was lying to him about what was about to happen, and wouldn't tolerate others lying to him either. He'd made plenty of snap decisions in life, and they'd led to his damnation. He could only hope that this decision would come out better. He brought his hands from behind his back, presenting the manacles to Harry.

"I swear to you master, by my curse, I will not betray you, and I will assist to the limits of my abilities," Hrothbert stated it clearly, the manacles at his wrists glowing as the geas detected the oath and sealed it for him. The other four clearly understood what had just happened, as did Dresden if the paling of his skin was any indicator. If Hrothbert failed to meet the conditions of his oath, the punishment triggered would be quite severe. His master clearly knew that, by the long look he gave the Ghost, his face grave.

"Thank you," he said it quietly, something that hadn't been said to Hrothbert in a very long time.

"You're welcome," Hrothbert smirked, returning his hands behind his back, "Though you may yet live to regret inviting me to check your work."

"I'll take my chances," Dresden informed him and went back to his arithmancy. Removing his gaze from Hrothbert gave the Ghost a sense of being out from under scrutiny, the other four people staring at him not counting. He'd always felt a weight to Dresden's gaze.

"Right, well then," Ingrid murmured and picked up a book, placing it so Hrothbert could see it, "As to what we're looking for, it is here, Hrothbert."

"Please, call me Bob," the Ghost murmured and bent over the book. Dresden smiled down at his work, colour returning to his cheeks.

0000

"Wait, wait, wait," Ingrid protested, pointing at the runes glowing in the air, "That can't be right. Those two there, they directly contradict each other."

"Yes, that's the point," Bob said, "We want the imbalance at this point, to allow…"

"No, you can't have imbalance there, we'll never get…" Wendy spoke up, pointing to another section of runes, "… that to work right."

"I can assure you, it will work," Bob rolled his eyes, "In the grimoire by Carmichael, who was a former apprentice of mine, it clearly says…"

"Harry has that, somewhere over here," Wendy interrupted again, and swept Bob's skull up. He controlled the flinch, as always, as she rifled through the stack of books his skull had been resting on, selecting one and putting him back down again.

"Careful," Harry admonished from the door, his jacket smoking slightly, "You know he doesn't like to be touched."

"Harry!" Bob exclaimed, "What happened?" He hurried to the wizards side and got a tired smile of reassurance. Up close it was clear that the jacket had taken the brunt of the heat and flame, though the backs of Harry's hands were slightly red. Bob beckoned and headed for the potions cupboard, intending to look out the healing balm that he and Harry had brewed together a few nights ago. Mouse stalked past them all to throw himself on the bed, apparently sulking.

"I ran into a minor demon, apparently being used as a security guard," Harry replied, "And, well…"

"You do so love fire," Ingrid chuckled, "Though you're not supposed to light yourself on fire, Harry. Just your target."

"Yeah well, things got out of hand very quickly. I got the book though," Harry sighed, "Luke is looking it over now."

"Bob, why do you dislike being touched?" Wendy asked as Bob pointed to the balm in question, a clear command in his expression. He froze at the question, turning to look at the woman as Harry scooped up the container.

"I…" he didn't have to answer, though he had never refused to before. Of course, the other apprentices rarely asked personal questions like this. Questions related to his knowledge, experience, and acquaintance were more common.

"Its ok," Harry straightened, the balm in his reddened hands, "It doesn't matter why, just that he does."

Harry rarely put his foot down, though the others seemed to defer to him quite naturally, so when he did the others tended to listen. The few times he'd put his foot down it had been in defence of one of the group against the others, Dom included. Bob rarely needed protection, as his more scathing nature had surfaced quite naturally, and few could match him for biting sarcasm. He tended to treat them all as students, and it had established a dynamic that he was comfortable with. He had always been intended to instruct the lost Morningway child, and finally doing so was very satisfying. Harry was a very apt student.

If he was to tell them why he flinched, after all these months of knowing them, it would be giving them a piece of information that could be used against him. Dresden would never allow it to be, but… they had trusted him with their mission, knowing who and what he was. Surely it was time to reciprocate.

"I have a sense of connection to the … emotions and... inner self of the person touching me," Bob said it quietly, folding his arms deliberately in the small of his back, in an effort at not showing how vulnerable he felt, "I block it, of course. In the past nine hundred plus years, I have yet to find someone with whom the connection is not painful. It is deeper if my master is touching me, and… frankly there have been times I have wished for torment from the pits of hell instead of enduring that touch."

"If you block it… oh, you get curious, don't you?" Ingrid shook her head, "That's… terrible Bob. If we pick you up with material between us and you, do you still feel it?"

"No," Bob said shortly, and Ingrid went to rummage in a trunk under one of the tables. He'd discovered that by accident, but he'd never told a master that either.

"So if I was touching you while having sex, would you feel that?" Wendy asked and Harry choked beside Bob, his expression incredulous. Bob frowned. He'd never considered that, though he'd also never wanted to be involved with the kind of sex act his masters would have subjected him too either.

"Your mind went straight to sex?" Harry asked, rubbing balm carefully over his hands.

"Look at what you're doing Harry. Yes, my mind went to sex," Wendy told him lasciviously. Bob had to admit that watching Harry carefully stroke the balm into the back of his hands and fingers was a very sensual feast. Also, Wendy's mind was frequently on sex. Bob had learned that over the last few months. She was loud and seemed to enjoy it in great variety.

"Its for the burns," Harry told her drily, then turned to Bob, "And you were right, this variant of the recipe is much more effective."

"Your humble servant," Bob smirked at him. Ingrid returned with a square of silk, which she skilfully used to pick him up, shift him around and redeposit him on the books with the silk underneath him. Anyone who wished to pick him up would now be able to do so without touching him, and Harry kissed her cheek in thanks.

"Here is the amulet that was with the book," he pulled it out of his inner pocket, his hands an almost normal colour again, "I need to eat something, can I make anything for you two?"

That, it seemed, was that. He didn't like to be touched, so they wouldn't touch him. Harry wouldn't push, Bob knew that after all these months in such close quarters. Harry guarded Bob's privacy and freedoms, what few there were, quite jealously.

That evening, when they were alone and Harry was coming out of the bathroom in the thin sleep clothes he preferred, Bob was waiting by the bed.

"Ingrid was right," he told Harry, "I am curious."

"Curious enough to risk it?" Harry asked, making no move towards the table where Bob's skull rested. He didn't need to be told what the apparent non sequitur meant, clearly understanding what was on Bob's mind. Another sign that he understood and would accept Bob's limits, even if they were self imposed. Another reason to trust the man the curse named as Master even if Harry himself didn't.

"I hadn't realised you'd registered my dislike for it," Bob admitted, "I hadn't realised how much you watch me."

"You're a subtle man, Bob. And you don't like to tell me the really important things. If I'm to avoid hurting you, or trespassing in an area you want to keep guarded, I need to pay proper attention," Harry told him, sitting on the edge of the bed, then gave him a small private smile, "Besides, looking at you isn't exactly a hardship."

"You flatter me," Bob snorted, "Go to sleep Dresden. You're not nearly as charming as you think."

Bob retired to his skull, well aware he'd just lied to his master about how attractive he found him. He wasn't ready to admit that just yet. He may never be.

0000

Summer moved into autumn, and they made slow progress in their goal. They had five years to do this and Harry was adamant that they needed to proceed with a degree of caution that clearly frustrated Ravi.

"He's frustrated that Harry doesn't let him have more say in what we're doing," Wendy said to Bob, as they waited together in Harry's attic for Ravi and Harry to return from what had been a two week absence, "Master Haggis tended to listen to Harry, and would give him more responsibility than Ravi has."

"As senior apprentice, that is normal," Bob informed her, watching her carefully paint her toenails a bright blue. In deference to the cooler weather she was wearing a floor length velvet skirt. He wasn't sure why they came to see him, when they had no questions or tasks for him, but it was pleasant to have the company. And of course they always told him if they'd heard from Harry or Dom, who had accompanied the two wizards on their trip.

"Ravi was only with Master Haggis for three and a half years. Ingrid for three," Wendy looked up, "They were both supposed to spend four years with Master Haggis, and I was supposed to spend three, but only had two."

"The practice of swapping apprentices is not new to me, though I admit it was a less international affair in my time," Bob mused, "Travel was very difficult."

"Well now you can go to a specialist for training, then return to your original master. Master Haggis was a lorist. Luke is probably going to be one as well, but he had to find another master lorist to teach him. He's only been an apprentice for a year," Wendy informed Bob, her focus back on her toes.

"My powers are very weak compared to the others," Luke said from the doorway, a bag of what Bob had learned to call 'take out' in one hand, "My grandfather decided I needed to learn the basics if I was to inherit his bookstore, so to Master Haggis I came."

"Will it not seem strange that you haven't sought another master while you work on your tasks?" Bob frowned, "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

"Harry achieved his mastery six months before Master Haggis died," Ingrid spoke up from where she was curled with Mouse on the floor, running her hands through his fur, "He inherited us as apprentices when Master Haggis died. Well, as much as you can inherit living beings. He'd been with Master Haggis for seven and a half years. As you're a master lorist, Luke can claim you as his primary instructor, and the rest of us claim either Harry or you depending on what we're learning."

"Didn't he go over this with you?" Wendy asked, screwing the brush into the small bottle, "Didn't you ask?"

"I have not," Bob confessed, looking down at Mouse, who thumped his tail on the floor. Even the dog-thing seemed to like him. He could only hope he was concealing his shock at the information being offered to him so casually. Clearly they didn't understand the import of it. That he was considered a master by both the apprentices and Harry was unheard of in his experience. He'd taught the young before, but only ever as students and usually under strict supervision. Harry had been present for almost every task oriented interaction with the other apprentices, and Bob had come to equate that with supervision. It seemed he was wrong.

"Understandable," Luke opined, "Given the conditions under which you live, pushing the boundaries seems unwise."

"Perhaps not the most diplomatic choice of words," Wendy scolded lightly, "Did you get my dumplings?"

"Yes your highness," Luke rolled his eyes, "And the extra crispy duck."

The three of them settled down to eating the meal, talking idly over a story in the mundane papers. Some sort of society scandal, something that Bob had once tracked closely for his own benefit. Now he was so far out of touch with modern society that he found it meaningless, though they were trying to bring him up to date. In his time, it had been a local concern, maybe county or shire wide at best. Now the politics of the globe could affect the success of their task.

As they were depositing their rubbish in the bag it had came in, Dom flew in through the window, transforming midair and running across the floor towards Harry's staff. The wizard had left it behind as they were supposed to be under cover, and such a thing would draw attention.

"Mouse!" Dom whirled towards the dog-thing that was already running towards him, "Go to Harry!"

Mouse snatched the staff in passing, bounding into the shadows beneath a table and disappearing.

"What happened?" Ingrid asked, heading for the door and her shoes, "Do you have their coordinates?"

"I can prepare a transportation spell," Luke said, getting his own shoes on and clearing the space in front of the door.

"Stay here, lorist," Dom ordered, "He will need your best healing spells when you return. Ingrid, Wendy, he is here."

Dom was touching a point on the map and Bob looked it over quickly, turning to call the correct coordinates to Luke, who was rapidly chalking the required runes into a circle. He was the most accurate scribe of them all, but Bob checked them over, as he would for any first year apprentice. Even one as talented as Luke.

"This will get us there," Bob nodded, "Well done, Luke. There is a satchel hanging in Harry's cupboard. I believe he used it to transport me originally, would you place me within it please."

"I'll carry you," Wendy came back from getting changed as Luke ran to the cupboard by the door. He was careful not to touch Bob as the skull was slipped into the canvas satchel and Wendy looped it across her chest quickly, shrugging him into the small of her back. Dom was already stepping carefully into the circle, and Ingrid joined him with Wendy crowding close.

"What are we going into?" Bob asked Dom, not needing to step inside the runes to be affected by them. He would go where his skull went, and he had no intention of wasting time entering and then leaving it.

"Battle," Dom said grimly, "Ravi is hurt, I think badly, but Harry…"

"Raise your shield spells the moment the spell releases," Bob told the three in the circle, "And lower yourselves – you're too good a target if you arrive upright."

He watched them crouch down, and then nodded to Luke. Better the one remaining behind activated the spell, so those going to the rescue would be focused on their protection.

He felt the pull of the chains, and welcomed them as they dragged him to a forest. It was dark, although there was light in the middle distance, and several somethings roaring. Dom didn't pause, he changed to his natural form and flew ahead, flitting from tree to tree, leading them closer to the danger.

Clouds roiled overhead and Bob thought that they might not be entirely natural. Harry had spoken of an affinity for elemental magics, and it seemed he was calling on them now. Dom cawed, and pointed with a wing, and Bob felt his long dead blood run cold.

In a clearing there was a broken circle, and several robed figures lying on the floor of the forest. Dead if the amount of dismemberment was anything to go by. There were also several demons, of the animal sort, attempting to get into another circle. Inside was the unconscious figure of Ravi, bleeding from a wound to the temple, and Harry, standing splay legged above him.

He was bloody, with deep gashes on his arm, abdomen and leg. There was a deliberate cut on one palm, the blood pooling as Harry used it to fuel his intended spell. He had his staff in his other hand. Mouse was currently ripping a beast demon to pieces at one side of the clearing, snarling as another demon attempted to get past him to the tree.

"Their victim is in the tree," Bob waved a hand, "We need to set a circle around them. And take out as many of these things as we can."

More emerged from the broken circle as he spoke and Wendy growled.

"We need to close that," she pointed, even as she and Ingrid started to run, heading around the edge of the clearing towards Mouse and the tree. Bob ran with them, keeping watch as they moved. It was he who spotted the human in the shadows, and at his barked command the women dropped, the spell passing over their heads harmlessly. Ingrid was quick to cast a counter offensive spell, a ball of freezing air that caused their attacker to fall; though it was unclear if they had been hit, or merely clumsy getting away.

"Move," Bob barked and Wendy sprang to her feet. Of all of them, she was the most agile, and she began drawing the circle that Bob ghost wrote for her around the tree while Ingrid and Mouse fought back the demons. Bob made a mental note to raise with Harry the need for better physical training for all of the group. Ingrid fought well, but she was vulnerable at several key points. Knowing how to fight with both magic and mundane methods was a stock part of any apprenticeship. Or it had been in his time.

Ingrid and the unknown assailant traded several spells, with Bob watching over Wendy as she finished the circle, and trying to watch for other human adversaries around them.

"To me!" Bob barked at Ingrid and was relieved that she leapt across the runes cleanly, "Now," he snapped to Wendy and she activated the circle successfully. The demons outside swarmed uselessly, unable to get to them or the tree.

"Well done," Bob nodded to Wendy, then looked up. The victim in the tree was a woman, clearly terrified and grievously hurt. He thought she might have been thrown into the branches, her leg was clearly broken, which would have precluded climbing. Runes were carved into her naked body, and he thought she had been subjected to a ritual violation as well. At least she was barely conscious, which would spare her the pain.

"Can we get to her?" Wendy asked, also looking up, and Bob shook his head. The victim's position was precarious enough without the women with him trying to climb up there.

"Not without risking climbing outside of the circles defence," he told her, "She needs help that we cannot give until it is safe to act."

"We still need to close that circle," Ingrid was looking at the middle of the clearing, where another group of beasts was emerging.

"Harry is trying to do that now," Bob wrung his hands. Harry was standing in a pool of his own blood. It was dripping down onto Ravi's body in a most disturbing way. Had Bob not learned only an hour ago that Harry had attained his mastery, what he was seeing now, the protective stance despite terrible wounds, would have made it clear, "There are still at least two people out there, you must watch for them. Harry won't be able to stand for much longer, we need to be ready to protect him."

As they watched, Harry completed his working, and thunder roared overhead. A whirlwind, the angry grandfather of the tame ones Harry used to clean his home, roared up around them, sucking the demon things up off the ground. Ingrid flung a spell overhead, securing the victim to her branch as Wendy secured herself and her lover to the tree. Bob could hear the demon's infuriated shrieks as the whirlwind funnelled them back into the centre of the damaged circle, roots from the trees around them tearing up out of the ground and intertwining to remake the broken circle in an astonishing display of skill and mastery. The clouds above them broke, water slashing down to turn the centre of the circle into a porous texture. Lightning flashed overhead and struck the centre of the circle and the demons were flung into it from the whirlwind as the lightning writhed in the middle of the circle, powering the reversal of the portal. The dead bodies were sucked in with the demons, and then Harry released the elements one by one, slowly allowing silence to fall on the battered clearing.

"Ingrid, tend to the victim," Bob ordered, "Wendy, get me to Harry."

"Dom!" Wendy gasped, scuffing the circle, "And Mouse! Do you think they're ok?"

"We are," Dom stepped out from behind a tree, Mouse at his side. They both looked considerably ruffled by the wind.

"Wendy!" Ingrid called, and Wendy took off the satchel as Mouse moved past her, draping it over the dog-thing's neck. Bob ignored them both, hurrying to Harry's side. The wizard was wavering where he stood, clearly trying to gather his strength to tend to Ravi. Mouse dropped the satchel at the edge of Harry's circle, his head raising to sniff the wind suspiciously.

"Harry, drop your protection," Dom begged, "Let us tend to him and you both."

"Dom," Harry groaned and stumbled forward, scuffing the circle. Before either of them could react a flash of steel sliced through the air. Mouse snarled and threw himself back along its path. From the screams he'd caught the person who'd thrown the knife now embedded in Harry's abdomen. The screams didn't last long.

"Wendy! Ingrid!" Bob shouted, "There is still one more around!"

A blood soaked Mouse returned, though it wasn't his blood. Harry was cradled in Dom's arms, with Bob kneeling beside them.

"He's dying," Dom croaked, and Bob nodded. They needed someone to draw the return transportation spell. Bob was certain he could save Harry, if he could get him back to the attic and the potions and texts there. Luke would be able to lead them through the healing spells needed, especially with Wendy and Ingrid's help. Bob looked up as the two women joined them, Ingrid scooping up his satchel.

A glance at the tree where the victim had been showed the earth slowly pulling her body down into it. It was a standard funeral spell, and Bob was sorry to see it. At least she was beyond the pain she'd endured.

"She was dead by the time we could get to her," Ingrid said bleakly, "What happened here?"

"Ravi," Harry gasped as Bob stood and started laying out the runes he wanted drawn, waving Wendy to the task with his best glare.

"He's unconscious," Ingrid said, "But he's breathing, Harry. You're hurt worse."

"He heard her screaming," Harry continued, as if he hadn't heard her, and Bob realised that he was answering the first question, not really tracking the events around him, "We'd separated to get back to the transportation spell he'd drawn earlier, and I couldn't stop him. He broke their circle. One of the beasts hit him. They were eating their summoners, so I had time to draw a circle for us."

"How did their sacrifice get into the tree?" Bob asked, realising that talking was keeping Harry with them.

"One of the beasts threw her there," Harry moaned as Dom pressed a hand to his abdomen, "She was dying when we got there. I couldn't save her."

"Almost done," Wendy said tersely, "It would be easier if I could see clearly."

"Not with someone else out there," Dom said it harshly. Ingrid looked up from where she was tending to Ravi, nodding at her fellow apprentice.

"There's a dent in his head," Ingrid told Bob, who stepped over and bent down, sticking his hand into Ravi's head. As a ghost he could sample the thing his essence was stuck into, and that meant he could tell what Ravi's injuries were.

"He has brain damage," Bob reported in clipped tones, "It's beyond my ability to heal. You will need to call a proper medic for him. Once we are back."

"Done," Wendy announced and Bob walked the circle to check it, "Mouse, can you get back to Luke?"

Mouse was still outside the circle and still sniffing the wind. The dog-thing went still and then growled, a sound that would have had Bob running for his life had it been meant for him. It leapt into the darkness, and from the sounds of it, whoever had been nearby was indeed running for their life. Bob hoped viciously that the dog-thing killed whoever it was.

"We can't wait," Dom rasped, "We must go."

Ingrid looked to Bob, who nodded. She activated the spell and it tore them away.

Luke had been appalled at the state of his lover and Harry, though to his credit he didn't object to Ingrid and Wendy floating Ravi carefully out of the open window to the street below, before Ingrid left to call for emergency medics and wait with him. Bright lights and an obnoxious sound announced their arrival. Bob could hear the apprentice explaining her friend had fallen, and eventually the noise and bother outside dissipated.

In Harry's attic, things were considerably quieter. Luke had led Wendy and Dom through the healing ritual needed to save Harry's life, and then at Bob's direction poured several of the potions and tinctures that Bob had helped Harry brew, or had nagged, criticised and instructed him to brew, in the last month. Harry had admitted that alchemy was not his strongest skill, and Bob had taken that as a challenge. Brewing often took too long for an emergency, and Bob considered it essential that several potions be kept on hand at all times.

Harry was deeply unconscious when they were done. Bob wasn't sure he'd survive the night, his life's ebb was so low. The Ghost put that from his mind though as Harry was laid in his bed, Dom choosing to curl up beside him, stroking his hair silently. Wendy was shaking with fatigue and Luke was not much better off.

"You should rest," Bob murmured as the shadows in the corner of the room bulged and Mouse appeared, Harry's staff in his mouth. The attic was a mess, bloody clothes and cloths thrown to the floor, the dagger among the detritus of potion bottles and bandages. The satchel that Ravi had been carrying with the box they had been seeking had been kicked into a corner, its strap cut to free the man of it. Both Luke and Wendy were blood smeared, and Luke was tear stained as well. It made him look his younger age, something the beard and build usually disguised, "Dom and I will see to him."

"Mouse, call me," Wendy stood slowly, "I'm going to clean up and get dressed and then I'll be back, Bob. You might need my hands. Luke, use Harry's bathroom, then go to the hospital and be with Ravi."

Luke looked at Bob, who nodded, and trudged wearily to the bathroom. Wendy hurried out to her own side of the attic, leaving the two non humans to watch over the wizard.

"Harry, you must try, dear boy. You can't leave us now, it's not your time," Bob murmured sternly, resting his hand inside Harry's abdomen for a moment, then withdrawing it. The wound was healed enough to not further threaten his life, as long as he stayed still, "Do you hear me, Dresden? Do not leave me here, to carry on this path you have set me on without you. I'm not ready to lose you."

"Beloved," Dom whispered, "Stay."

Harry sighed, but made no other movement, and Bob shifted to give the appearance of kneeling next to the bed. He lowered his head so his lips were even with Harry's ear and began to talk, the only way he could touch the wizard. Luke passed them, waved on by Dom. Bob didn't stop speaking though, determined that he would do all he could to keep Harry with them. He was vaguely aware of Wendy returning, cleaning up the mess behind him and then curling into one of the leather chairs, slipping eventually into sleep.

Daylight crept through the attic, and it was fully daylight when Wendy woke, getting up stiffly to make herself a hot drink and bringing one for Dom, who took it cautiously. Still, Bob talked. One of his former masters had once said that Hrothbert could talk a man to death. Bob had given it serious thought in the case of that master. Now he was trying to talk a man to life. He was unsure of how much Harry could hear, but he held nothing back, telling of his past in more detail than he had ever confided before, putting himself completely in Harry's hands, including the promise that he would open himself to Harry's touch.

After all, the elements didn't cooperate with just anyone. All of his previous masters had had to bully and overpower the elements into doing their bidding. Harry had asked, and been answered generously. No one who could do that would contaminate Bob's essence with his touch, and the Ghost looked forward to experiencing it.

Ingrid returned from the hospital with the dire news that the damage to Ravi was severe and the doctors weren't sure if he would recover, or how much of his mind had survived beneath the damage. Wendy went to relieve Luke at the hospital while Ingrid took the opportunity to sleep for a few hours. At Bob's behest Ingrid administered further potions, her touch tender and loving. The sun was low in the sky and she looked at the trio on the bed for a moment, worry in her face.

"Dom, you need to eat," she told the Raven, "I'll stay with him while you do."

The Raven didn't consume human food, or at least preferred not to. He would go and hunt his own meal, returning when he was ready. He got up reluctantly, but went once Ingrid was curled in his spot, her own voice joining Bob's soft murmurs, adding her own entreaties to the Ghosts.

Dusk and then dark fell. Dom returned, and joined them in his Raven form on the bed, nestling against Harry's lax hand. Luke returned, on his way back to the hospital. He'd changed, but was still pale. His eyes filled with tears when he realised that Harry was still unconscious.

"Should we try another healing ritual?" Luke fretted from the end of the bed, "Bob, I can't lose them both. Should we take him to the hospital too?"

"No," Ingrid sighed, "We'd never be able to explain what had happened to him. The scars' healing is too advanced, they'd think he was on drugs or something."

"There is nothing they can do for him," Bob added quietly, "Either he will choose to stay with us, or he will pass."

"Will there be less talking if I pass?" Harry groaned, "'Cause there has been a lot of talking…"

"Well I like that," Bob huffed, unable to conceal a smile of delight. Dom hopped off the bed, returning to his other form so he could bend over Harry and check him carefully.

"Another, smaller healing spell would be of benefit," Bob straightened, "If you are both willing."

Ingrid sat up properly, placing her hands on Harry's arm and abdomen, leaving the leg and chest wound to Luke. Bob instructed them in the wording and working, and when the glow faded Harry's colour had improved from appalling to only ghastly.

"Ravi?" he asked, turning to look at Luke, "Is he…"

"He's in a coma," Luke wiped his eyes impatiently, "There is brain damage. The doctors aren't sure if he'll ever recover fully, or how much he'll recover at all. Bob said he couldn't heal him."

"Matters of the brain are beyond me, I'm afraid," Bob confirmed, unhappy that he couldn't give Harry the news he wanted to hear, "It was not something we could heal in my time, and I've never come across a ritual that had the sort of efficacy you'd be willing to risk. So much of who we are is in the brain, tinkering with it often brings hideous side effects."

"What about the All Heal?" Harry shifted slightly on the bed, but made no move to rise when all three of the tangible beings in the room pressed him into stillness. The wound from the dagger was still fragile, though the spell Bob had just talked the apprentices through would help knit it more firmly closed.

"None of our apprentices have the skill to cast it," Bob informed him. Harry looked at him for a long moment, then smiled faintly.

"I see you've finally accepted your place," he murmured, "Good. I wasn't willing to wait for you to do so much longer."

A sentence that with any other master would have been a threat, was instead couched in relief. Bob folded his arms fussily though, not willing to admit he'd been slow on the uptake.

"Wendy is right, your communication skills are appalling," Bob told him crossly and Harry sighed. His eyes were already slipping closed, exhausted by these few minutes of talking. Bob brushed his hand though Harry's shoulder, feeling the moment he fell asleep.

"He'll sleep for a while, but he's out of danger," Bob sighed in relief, "Luke, when he is better, the spell he mentioned may help. But he won't be able to cast it for at least a week."

"He will do all he can," Dom spoke up, looking at the young man, "You know he will."

"I know. I'll go take care of Ravi now, and send Wendy home," Luke sighed, "I'll see you later."

"Ingrid, you and Wendy should sleep in your own beds," Bob suggested, "I have a feeling we'll have our hands full once he wakes up properly."

Ingrid laughed wearily, but nodded, kissing Harry's cheek and getting up carefully, "Call me if you need me. Mouse barks loudly enough to wake anyone. I'll hear him."

"I will," Bob nodded from where he was still kneeling. Dom returned to his original place on the bed, stroking Harry's hair and pressing his forehead to Harry's for a long moment. It was the most affectionate that Bob had ever seen the other being be.

"Thank you for staying, Beloved," Dom whispered, and closed his eyes, settling into sleep.

"We're here, Harry," Bob sighed, sitting back finally.

0000

Helping Ravi was more complicated than Bob had originally planned. He hadn't noticed that the few items of modern convenience in Harry's attic were of the simplest type. Bob had spent a week struggling to keep Harry in bed, and also struggling to get him to eat anything. The wound to his abdomen had disturbed his appetite, and the Ghost's ability to feed a tangible being was non existent.

So when they were considering how to get Harry into the hospital to visit Ravi, he was considerably surprised to discover that Harry had the unfortunate habit of destroying any of the modern technology the world used simply by standing near it: or passing by it if the technology was particularly sensitive.

The hospital had at lot of technology used to keep people alive, and Harry refused to risk killing an innocent by walking past their room. If they were to get Harry to Ravi to cast the All Heal, Ravi would have to leave the hospital. Luke took the news hard, as the working would be less effective the longer it was between injury and casting.

"I know you don't like computers and things, but it's for Ravi!" Luke stood in front of Harry, who was leaning on the table that Bob had come to think of as his. His skull was always resting on that table unless he requested it be moved.

"My powers have a very strong affinity for the elements Luke, I can't contain it the way you do," Harry said wearily, "I can hold it back for a short while, but I can't suppress and use my powers simultaneously. That means anyone on life support is dead, and Ravi wouldn't want that. Also the whole building could lose power, and they would need to replace a lot of expensive equipment. That means they can't save other people's lives. I'm sorry Luke. We need to get Ravi out to me, not the other way around."

"His parents have been thinking about taking him home," Ingrid said suddenly, "He's not on life support or anything, and if we did it while he was being moved, the only thing we'd risk is the ambulance and it's equipment."

"I thought they hadn't decided that yet," Luke protested, "They want to speak to Harry first."

"His parents are here?" Bob asked, a little startled. He'd gotten the impression that they lived in New Delhi.

"They flew in," Ingrid nodded, "But as Ravi's master, they want to know from Harry what happened and if they can remove him from Harry's care."

"They should take him home," Harry hung his head, "And you should all consider going home too."

"What," Luke hissed, and Bob stepped sharply between the enraged young man and his master, "You expect us to walk away?"

"I couldn't stop him, Luke. He's under my protection, as you all are," Harry told the floor, his tone utterly devastated, "I failed him when he needed me most. They almost killed him, Wendy and Ingrid were exposed to unacceptable risks, and the victim they defiled never stood a chance. You'd be better finding a competent master."

"Harry," Ingrid's face was pained, "That isn't true. You weren't even expecting to come across a ritual out there, let alone have Ravi lose his head and go running in like that. You can't stop us from making mistakes. And you defended him: when you shouldn't have even been on your feet you held off demons to save him. Please don't send us away."

"I don't blame you," Luke's tone was difficult, but honest at least, "Ravi is a hot head."

"He was thinking of leaving," Harry confessed to his feet, "He said so, just before we split up. We argued over the task almost incessantly, and …"

"He is a hot head," Luke repeated as he stepped around Bob and embraced the man wilting at the end of the table, "Harry, he wants so much, and he isn't ready for it. You know he has such a high opinion of himself. You know he wants to be as powerful as you."

Harry's arms went around the younger man cautiously, and Luke tightened his grip carefully, well aware that after a bare week of recovery Harry's body was still fragile in some places. Ingrid joined the embrace, kissing Harry's cheek and resting her forehead against his hair.

"You shouldn't be on your feet for so long," she told him, "I will go and get Ravi's parents, and we'll plan a way to get Ravi out of the hospital. Maybe Bob should come with me, so he can see the layout and such."

"No," Bob vetoed that at once, "I'm not leaving him here. Luke, help him clean up. When Ravi's parents get here we'll wait together outside. You should speak to them alone, Harry."

He knew that Ravi's parents were likely to want the courtesy of speaking alone to the man who had seen their son be hurt. Ingrid and Luke accepted his orders, and even Harry didn't protest being shepherded off to the bathroom, returning with wet hair neatly combed and clean jeans and a dress shirt. He consented to sit in his favourite chair, and ate the plain toast that Luke made for him.

"If you don't eat more soon, I will potion you," Bob murmured in his ear, "Your wound needs to use the energy of your body to heal, and you're not eating enough to replace what is being used."

"Yes, your ghostliness," Harry sighed, "After I've spoken to Ravi's parents, I'll try."

"Bob, may I move you?" Luke asked, and Bob straightened, giving Harry a long look. Provided the wizard didn't try to get up and run around he'd be alright for a moment, and Bob suspected he needed the privacy. Something that had been very rare since Bob had been claimed.

"Thank you, Luke," Bob nodded, coming to stand beside the young man. They all used the dark blue silk to pick him up now, and he had stopped expecting the sudden shock of unwelcome touch. He walked with Luke to the door and followed him out onto the landing, and its dim light. The door opposite them opened at Luke's touch and Bob stepped into the other side of the attic for the first time. It was twice the size of Harry's, with a similar living space, dormer windows and skylights, and what looked like at least three rooms off a small corridor running under the eaves at the end.

"The girls and Master Haggis slept here. Ingrid and Wendy shared a room," Luke told him quietly, "Harry has always had the small attic to himself, because Master Haggis kept more complicated technology in here. Harry's learnt not to kill every appliance in the building, but holding himself under constant control tires him, so sometimes he takes off for the forests and just relaxes his control. Better a few campers lose their electronics than Harry's brain burning out."

"How did he manage on a ship?" Bob mused, "Surely there were sensitive electronics on board."

"Harry said there were some places he never went, and I think he lived out on the deck for the most part," Luke shrugged, "I can't imagine spending so long living on water, never around other kids or friends."

"I believe he became accustomed to travelling with his father, while that worthy was alive. His work made him somewhat peripatetic," Bob straightened from inspecting the bookcase in the living area, aware of Luke's sudden silence. Luke was staring at him with a shocked expression.

"You knew his father?" Luke whispered, and Bob shook his head silently.

"Alas, no," he sighed, "My previous master was Harry's uncle. He desired control of Harry, and with the death of Harry's mother attempted several times to acquire custody of him. Certainly he had the money and advantages that Harry's father never did. Malcolm Dresden was a devoted father, and loved his son too much to simply to hand him over to a relative. I believe he also had some inkling of my former master's intentions, or at least knew he was completely unfit to raise a child. I only wish I could have met him. By all accounts he was a remarkable man."

"Harry doesn't speak of him," Luke put Bob down on the small table beside the front door, "Even after all this time, he doesn't like to remember."

"No, well," Bob sighed, "It was a traumatic introduction to using his powers, and all of them tied to the memory of a parent who loved him. Best not to press."

"No, I wouldn't," Luke cocked his head, and then opened the door. Bob came to join him and watched as Wendy led two people who could only be Ravi's parents up the stairs. She knocked on Harry's door and opened it when he called out. Bob watched them disappear inside, and sighed.

"How long should we wait, until we go in to check on him?" Wendy fretted as she joined Luke at the door, "Bob, shouldn't you be with him?"

"He wanted to speak to them alone," Bob replied. He thought that Harry may also have wanted to conceal his skull from Ravi's parents. It was certainly memorable to see, and just shoving it into a cupboard would have been too disrespectful, at least from Harry's point of view. Certainly Bob would have found a way to make him pay if he'd suggested it.

They waited for an hour, and Luke was just suggesting he go in and offer to make tea when the door opened and Ravi's parents emerged, Harry behind them leaning on a walking stick that Luke had brought with him a few days ago. It was a gnarled branch, thick and knobbly, with a wax veneer and a copper band around the base. It had been Luke's great grandmothers', and Luke had teased his mentor about it lightly.

"We'll let you know," Ravi's mother said in thickly accented English, "It will be soon."

"We'll be ready," Harry nodded, "Luke, do you want to go back to the hospital?"

"Yes," Luke nodded, and followed the other two down the stairs. Wendy scooped Bob up, careful not to let the silk slip between her fingers and the bone she was carrying. She followed Harry back into his attic, depositing Bob back on his usual table while Harry selected an apple from the kitchen.

"You need to eat a proper meal," Bob instructed, "I meant what I said, young man."

"I know you did," Harry sighed, "I'll make something in a while."

"Or I can go get Chinese," Wendy told him, "Sweet and pungent shrimp, and hot and sour soup for you, I think. I'll even get those rolls you like."

"I could eat that," Harry looked pensive, and put the apple back, "When you get back we'll go over the agreed upon plan, and we can work out how to get things ready. I might need either a tube of lipstick, or some lip gloss. Something I can inscribe with that Ravi can absorb harmlessly."

"Ingrid may have something, she wears makeup sometimes," Wendy nodded, "Or I can get you something easily enough."

"Thank you Wendy," Harry limped back to his chair, and Wendy smiled at Bob before hurrying out.

"Were they angry?" Bob asked when he was sure she was gone. Harry shook his head wordlessly, his face drawn with pain.

"It would have been easier if they had," he replied, "They know their son very well, though, and when I said that we'd been butting heads…"

"You told them that?" Bob frowned, "Harry, Ravi is a young man, deeply in love with his powers."

"That's what they said," Harry quirked a sad smile at the Ghost, "When he'd last seen them in person he'd complained that I wouldn't give him his proper respect as due to one with his powers."

"Arrogance will be the end of that young man," Bob shook his head in disgust, "He reminds me of me, at times, and not in the best of ways either."

"You don't think he'd…" Harry broke off, looking appalled. Bob shook his head. Ravi would never dare to experiment with the forbidden magics that Bob had mastered in his life time. He would never dare to make Harry come after him for his crimes, knowing how Harry felt about such things.

"Not under your aegis," Bob soothed, "But on his own? Perhaps. I was watching him closely, Harry. I'd have warned you if I felt he was truly close to making such a mistake."

Harry nodded. There were footsteps on the stairs, and Wendy returned with their meal.

0000

In the end, they got Harry to a street with small amounts of traffic that the ambulance would travel down and then he let his aura out of his control. Even Bob, who existed on a different plane to the world around him, could feel Harry's presence when he did that. It meant he would be 'visible' to those who had been tracking him, but Bob had argued that it was a calculated risk, as Bob didn't think anyone would still be searching for the lost Morningway child, and so the ambulance sputtered to a safe if dramatic stop. So did several cars around it.

Harry persuaded one of the ambulance crew to find a working phone, as their phones, radio and all the other equipment on the rig had died. Bob had accompanied him, carried in a satchel on Harry's hip, and it was odd to hear the man speak flawless German, as if it was his native tongue. Bob understood some, but not all of the words, able to fathom them out from an older language he knew better. Essentially, Harry presented himself as a passing doctor, and had a card inscribed with a rune that would persuade the medics that he was what he said. He climbed up into the rig to help with the patient, while the driver went to find a phone. Luke and Ingrid would delay the man, and Wendy would send the remaining medic to sleep. Once the medic was asleep, Bob emerged from his satchel and got his first look at their injured apprentice.

Ravi had lost a bit of colour, and some of his muscle mass, in the last eight days. He was swathed in blankets and strapped firmly to a wheeled stretcher. Harry was kneeling on the floor beside him, his hand resting on the straps for a moment. Ravi's head was well padded, and he wore something around his neck to prevent his head from moving at all.

"He looks so peaceful," Harry sighed, moving to undo the straps at last and peeling back the blankets.

"What are the tubes for?" Bob frowned, looking at the tubes that snaked from a clear bag to their apprentices arm.

"Nutrients, liquids to keep him hydrated, maybe some painkillers," Harry didn't look up from Ravi's chest where he was inscribing the All Heals diagram with a tube of something that was red. Ingrid had supplied it last night, stating that she never wore that colour. Bob could see why, it was a lurid shade.

"Does this look right to you?" Harry looked up at Bob. Last night's meal had helped restore his appetite. He'd explained to Bob that it had felt like it was time to eat, and Bob had made a mental note that Harry's emotional state had as much affect on his appetite as his physical. He had known that Harry's was saddened and pained, but not to such a great extent that his appetite was so deeply lowered.

"Yes," Bob said after a moment, checking the finer details of the diagram carefully, "You'll want to be slow in your release of power, Harry, to allow him to properly absorb it."

"Right," Harry took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, repeating it several times. His shoulders relaxed and his eyes drooped and Bob realised he was centring himself carefully. Someone had taught him to meditate at one point. Bob knew he practised a series of almost ritualistic stretches a few times a week, and there had been times when Bob had thought Harry was asleep in his chair only to have the man speak to him suddenly.

Harry stretched both hands over Ravi, a soft glow building around them before slowly drifting down to the other man's chest and abdomen. Bob could sense the even and careful flow of healing energy being showered down onto the diagram, and he placed his own hand into Ravi's shoulder, dipping just his fingertips into the limb. He felt Ravi's powers recognise Harry's energies and latch onto them, and felt the moment that the diagram activated, sinking deep into the younger mans marrow. Harry kept the energy flow going, encouraging it to work evenly and slowly, until it was ready to pour through Ravi in a wave.

Harry sighed as the diagram dissolved away, swaying back away from Ravi's stretcher, the connection breaking cleanly. He slumped awkwardly onto the floor, lying there and gasping for air for a moment.

"Harry, breathe through it," Bob coached, "You've done very well, he's beginning to recover already."

"Will it be enough?" Harry groaned, pushing himself up with a wince and putting a shaking hand on Ravi's. Bob hummed, focusing on what Ravi's energies were telling him.

"Yes," Bob decided, "He will wake in a day or so, I would imagine. How complete the spell will be remains to be seen when he is awake and aware again. For now, you've done all you can. Compose yourself, the medic will wake soon. Ravi is in no danger now."

Harry nodded and put the blankets back very carefully, refastening the straps and resting his head on Ravi's shoulder for a moment before resuming the jump seat the medic had gestured him to.

"I must return to my skull," Bob told him, "You're pale again, so wait for Luke to come help you down."

The plan was for Luke to come across his 'uncle' in the stricken ambulance, as Bob had predicted the effort of the spell would erase the few reserves that Harry had built up. Harry would go to attend the sick relative that Luke was reporting to him, and they would be gone by the time the replacement ambulance arrived.

Bob returned to his skull, thinking about Harry and his abilities. He was beginning to wonder if Harry's training had been as haphazard as it seemed. A master lorist, facing the disruption of a mass ritual, in need of an apprentice with elemental powers, happening to be an associate of Harry's first Sensei was improbable at best. In fact, Harry's Sensei would have to have been a specialist in elemental magics to start with. Otherwise the boy would never have learnt to control his powers to the extent that he could. Certainly Bob would have had difficulty training him to use them. Bob's connections to the elements had been established through ritual and his own personal powers, which had been quite strong, not a natural and latent talent.

That Harry had been taught to control himself but not others was clear. He had also been taught to hide his true self, probably by his father at first, and then his need to evade Morningway's tracking spells and the people he'd eventually sent to search physically had only reinforced that habit. Bob was beginning to wonder if the man who held so much of his attention, and his curse, was hiding other facets of himself.

0000

Ravi had recovered, though not as fully as Harry would have liked. The apprentice had lost his memories of the past five years, which meant he didn't recognise any of them. Luke was devastated at the loss of his lover, as Ravi had agreed to go home with his parents. He would need to train again, and Harry had agreed that it was best he did so with a master closer to his family for now. His powers were also lessened in strength, which Bob thought was due to the lingering brain damage. The boy had a slight weakness to his right side, and couldn't speak German any more, though his English and Hindi were fine.

Winter was just beginning to grip the city when a knock at the door revealed a wizened Japanese man, whom Harry called Sensei and Wendy treated with a reverent deference that would not have been out of place in the presence of a deity. A young man accompanied Sensei, named Kenji, who Sensei announced would be studying with the master lorist.

Bob was introduced to Kenji, who was not put off by the thought of learning from a ghost, and Sensei approved of, in an off handed sort of way. Harry had shot Bob an amused look, and that was that. Kenji went to sleep in Master Haggis's former room, with Wendy and Ingrid still sharing their room together. Kenji had an American accent, and Sensei explained he had lived in New York for most of his life, in a tone that was quite dismissive of that city and all that it contained.

With the arrival of Kenji and winter, Harry decided it was time to give in to Bob's nagging and start the combat training that Bob insisted the apprentices needed to master. Master Haggis had bought an old commercial space, where the apprentices practised the spells that couldn't be done in a small domestic space, and their group castings. Harry offered to let Bob walk with them to the space, and the Ghost had enjoyed the brisk pace through mostly empty streets in the early evening light. There was snow on the ground, and Bob spent the walk surrounded by people to prevent anyone from walking through him by accident. It gave him an opportunity to see parts of Dresden from the ground, which he enjoyed immensely. None of his masters had ever considered taking him for a change of scenery, let alone allowing him to interact with his environment so extensively.

The commercial space was a large, cold area, with high windows and metal struts straddling the space. Lights hung from the struts, and a few space heaters as well. There were tables for working alchemy too malodorous for the attics, soft padded mats that could be spread out for exercise, and an old barrel with a variety of staves sticking out of it. They were of various weight and materials, and Harry tossed them to his fellow apprentices easily, obviously very familiar with this sort of weapon.

He took them through a warm up, with Bob observing closely to see who was capable and who was likely to brain themselves in the first two minutes, and then Bob walked them through several drills, critiquing foot placement and posture as they moved. They worked on the drills every other day for two weeks, and then Bob suggested they try moving into a more adversarial drill.

Things devolved very quickly, and Luke nearly earned himself a concussion from Ingrid, when a mistimed counter disarmed him and threw him backwards, his head bouncing on the mat.

"It's very hard to imagine how this would work," Kenji complained as Harry called them to a halt, "When you can't show us yourself."

"Bob, could you conjure a stave of your own? Like the writing?" Harry asked before Bob could be offended at this indifferent reference to the limits his curse imposed on him. Wendy smacked Kenji across the back of the head with her hand, which propitiated the Ghost somewhat.

"I can," Bob did so, the familiar weight of the stave he had once owned forming in his hands from memory alone, "However your stave will not interact with it."

Harry squinted at him for a long moment, then tossed his stave back to land in the barrel, ignoring Ingrid's mutter of 'show off'. Bob watched as Harry concentrated and then reproduced Bob's stave, grinning in triumph and carefully swinging the end forward to tap against Bob's. There was a clunk, and the vibrations of the light tap travelled up Bob's arms like an electric shock. He gasped and stepped back, so unused to external stimulation that for a moment it was as if his long dead heart had suddenly taken off beating at a million miles an hour.

"Did I hurt you?" Harry frowned, concerned and Bob steadied himself.

"No, I wasn't expecting…" he swung his own stave into contact with Harry's and then pressed forward. Harry resisted the push, keeping their staves where they were. Bob's entire being lit up with interest and stimulation.

"This might work," he murmured, "Very well, Harry. If you are willing, I'd be interested to try sparring with you, for the purpose of instruction, of course."

"Of course," Harry replied drily, clearly not taken in by Bob's attempt at nonchalance. Even after all their time together it was second nature to conceal how desperately he wanted to do something, lest his master refuse to allow it out of spite, or some sort of power play.

They squared up, and Harry offered him a bow, while Bob saluted him with his stave. It was clear that Harry's time with Japanese teachers had influenced how he fought at once, though his skill was sufficient to challenge Bob considerably. Bob had been better with a sword than a stave, and there were times when Harry made a sudden or unexpected move that he was pressed to counter. They fought hard, though each was careful not to cause the other damage. In the end, Harry disarmed Bob with a clever strike and twist, halting his follow up blow only inches from Bob's chest.

"Well, that was certainly engaging," Bob chuckled, and reached out, intending to wave a hand through the stave and disperse it. Instead, his palm struck it, and he wrapped his fingers around it in shock.

"I thought Bob was on a different plane to us?" Wendy frowned, and Harry shrugged, not looking away from the shocked being in front of him. He offered a small smile, and then used the stave to pull Bob up from the knee he'd fallen to, steadying the Ghost with the end of the stave before dispersing it when Bob let go.

"I'm using ghost powers to conjure the stave," Harry replied, "It should be part of his plane, otherwise we'd not have been able to spar."

"Ghost powers," Luke mused, "Like the writing?"

"Yes," Bob swallowed, the habits of the living still with him, "Harry is able to manipulate my writing, and I his. I had not made the connection."

"Something for us to consider," Harry said, looking over at their students, "If you learn to conjure a stave, you could hurt him: which is unacceptable."

"I won't hurt him," Kenji replied seriously. As their newest apprentice, he had yet to fully understand how protective of Bob Harry was. Bob was treated with a degree of care that he hadn't experienced even when alive. Certainly there had been ally's and even people he would consider a close acquaintance, but none that had cared for him the way Harry did.

It was making the impulse to experience Harry's touch without the barrier of silk, or his own defences, harder and harder to resist.

0000

They were working on a new spell diagram together when the knock to the door came. It was late at night, the apprentices were either retired for the evening or out pursuing their own leisure activities, and Harry had spent the evening arguing with Bob in that way he had that challenged the cursed sorcerer without threatening. Bob felt at home, comfortable in a way that he'd never experienced with the curse before.

So when the knock sounded, he tutted in annoyance and Harry chuckled at him before going to answer it. It was not unheard of for the tenants downstairs to come up and seek assistance with maintenance issues, so neither of them suspected anything out of the ordinary. Mouse was out with Wendy for the evening, as she scouted their next artefact to acquire, and so there was no warning when Harry swung the door open and a feminine hand reached out to caress Harry's face.

"Hello lover," she purred and the wards at the door flared to life, activated by Harry's reflexive response to the attack, flickering as they fought to repel the intruder, though with the door open that would be harder. Harry pulled back a little, his hand tightening on the door, his muscles bunching as if to close it, "Come with me, lover," she purred and Harry's muscles slowly began to relax.

"Harry!" Bob barked in his ear, having materialised directly beside him in the space of a heartbeat, "Close the door!"

It was a wraith, of course, the form shifting constantly, though Harry, who was in its sights, would have seen someone who was very desirable. He was aroused, which didn't help: the heightened state would help it secure a hold on Harry's mind. That was how wraith's worked, using their prey's desires and lust against them. Harry had an active sex life, though he'd never approached the apprentices for sex, always waiting for them to come to him.

Harry's face screwed up, and tension returned to his muscles slowly. There was an alarmed caw from the window and then Dom was there, wrapping his arms around Harry's chest and waist, his face buried in Harry's neck. The wraith would have some limited affect on the Dominant Raven in human form, hence hiding his face.

"No, beloved," Dom said hoarsely, "She is not for you."

"Help me, lover! I need you!" the wraith changed its strategy and Harry tensed, moving as if to step forward and leave the scant shelter of the blazing wards. Bob stepped directly through his arm and swung around to face him, putting the wraith at his back. It was a risky move: if it realised he was there it could attack and hurt him. They were on the same plane, or at least close enough that the thing would be able to do some damage.

"Dresden! Get back in there! Don't you dare move forward," Bob assumed his most commanding, most intimidating demeanour. Apprentices and enemies alike had quailed before him when he looked this way, but Harry barely flinched.

"Close the door, beloved," Dom added softly. The Raven couldn't just pull Harry away, that would cause both the wraith and Harry to become violent. He had to break it's grip himself, though that didn't mean that Bob and Dom couldn't encourage him to do so.

"Bob?" Harry moaned, his face contorting as if in pain. If it could have, Bob's long dead heart would have frozen in horror. If Harry was feeling pain, the wraith had established a connection of sorts, and they would lose him to it before help could arrive. This would require extraordinary measures if Bob was to save the only Master he'd ever wanted to preserve. Which meant Bob was going to have to reveal something he'd long decided to keep secret.

"Harry Dresden, you will step inside and close that door this instant!" Bob snarled, "How dare you? Consorting with a wraith when you belong to me, and me alone! I will not be cheated, do you hear me, certainly you will not cheat with the likes of that! You will do as I say, this very moment!"

Harry shuddered and stepped back, Dom pulling to ensure he cleared the threshold. Bob stepped with him, feeling the wraith begin to cast about for whatever was interfering with its connection to its prey. They would need to be quick, because Harry would force him into his skull if he thought that Bob was attacking the wraith, which he would do if it discovered him.

"Close that door at once," Bob hissed, "I will brook no interlopers in our home. Shut her out this second, I demand it!"

Harry's muscles finally completed their long delayed action and the door slammed shut, passing through Bob as it did, which he hated, but would forgive this once. Dom continued to pull Harry back, who was shaking now, panting with effort. Bob matched him step for step, never breaking their gaze as the Raven got him to the bed at the rear of the attic, the wards on the door glowing brightly. The wraith was still there then, and would likely try again if Bob couldn't properly distract Harry from it.

Fortunately, he was not loathe to use the 'in' it had given, namely Harry's arousal. Dom got the wizard onto the bed and Bob moved so he was appearing to kneel above Harry's hips. Harry's eyes were locked on his, and Bob gave the man beneath him his full attention. He felt more than saw Dom draw back, moving to get between Harry and the door. If worst came to the worst the Raven could knock Harry out, and they'd deal with the resulting injury as best they could.

"How dare you," Bob murmured, changing tack to keep Harry's attention on him, "Consorting with such an inferior thing instead of me. You are mine, Harry Dresden, and I will brook no interference with our bond."

"Bob," Harry moaned and this time there was desire in his voice, not pain. It was a delicious sound, and a welcome one. It meant that Bob had successfully broken the wraith's grip, transferring it to himself.

"Harry," Bob leaned down, planting a hand beside Harry's head, and meeting the man's eyes, pouring everything he had into the look, "You are mine, aren't you?"

"Yes," Harry breathed, "Yours."

"Touch yourself, then," Bob hummed, "Show me that you are mine…"

He lowered himself so that he was only inches from Harry, murmuring to the man writhing beneath him, encouraging and commanding in turn, until Harry came with a gasp, sighing Bob's name as his eyes slipped closed. Bob shuddered, his own climax surprising him. It had been centuries since he'd tried to experience this sort of pleasure, his existence too painful to permit it.

He straightened, still kneeling over Harry, smirking with satisfaction at the mess his master had made of himself, and the very pretty look of debauchery spread out before him. A noise behind him made him turn, and there was Dom, staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Bob composed himself and got off the bed, moving to stand before the Dominant Raven, though he had no idea what he was going to say. He was unsure how deep the Raven's relationship with Harry was: the being called Harry it's beloved, but there was no physical aspect to that love, Bob thought.

"You have done well," Dom croaked after a moment, "It will not be able to get to him now. That method of attack is closed to them."

"You know who it was?" Bob frowned, wondering if the Raven had appeared in response to a known threat.

"Not their names, but their coven," the Raven replied, "The same one that has sought him all of his life."

"Morningway's associates," Bob spat, "Lovely. Are we never to be done with that man's pathetic machinations?"

"Not until he and his coven are dead," Dom looked at the window he usually arrived through. It was shut, and Bob couldn't detect the wraith outside. From the way the door was continuing to glow, it seemed the thing hadn't given up yet. Harry wouldn't be able to cast against it, not now that it had established a connection. Bob's bond to Harry would override that, he had felt their bond deepen with the activities of the last few moments, but Harry would find any action against the wraith painful.

"Well, one down, more to go," Bob sighed, "Do you think you could find Kenji and Ingrid? They are out together tonight. Their combined skills should be sufficient to banish the thing. Harry would never forgive us if we allowed it to latch onto one of the mundanes living beneath us."

"I know where they are," Dom nodded, "I will warn them."

"Thank you Dom," Bob replied, "And thank you for anchoring him as you did. I could not have saved him alone."

"Our beloved is lucky to have us," Dom quirked a rare smile at Bob and then blurred. The window opened and the Raven flew out, a gust of wind slamming the casement behind it. Bob sighed and turned to look back at the bed.

"Yes he is," Bob said to the empty room.

Harry was only out for an hour, waking tired and enervated. The wards still glowed their threat and Bob had seen the thing at various windows, the casements sparking as protective runes activated in response to its presence. Bob wasn't sure how the thing had gotten into the building and past wards: they would later discover that a mundane tenant downstairs had been the things first victim.

"Bob, what the hell?" Harry groaned, then blushed when his memory returned. Bob, who was standing next to his skull with his arms folded, offered his best smirk.

"If you don't know what we just did perhaps I should demonstrate again?" Bob offered the suggestion with more than a little sarcasm, "After all, it has been several centuries since I attempted such an act. Perhaps I am losing my touch and should practice."

"Maybe later," Harry grinned at him, moving slowly to get up, "I'm gonna clean up."

"Good idea," Bob nodded, "Don't open any windows, and don't be long, Harry. I have a request for you. Something that I need greatly and can no longer defer."

"What is it?" Harry froze, anxiety marking his features. Bob gloated inwardly. If there was anything guaranteed to get and keep Harry's attention, it was a genuine request for help. Bob had never requested anything of Harry before.

"Clean yourself up, my dear," Bob said affectionately, "I can wait a few minutes more."

The combination of affection and Bob's relaxed stance served to reassure Harry and he stumbled for the bathroom, emerging in clean clothes in very quick order. He had regained his normal colour, and moved with his usual grace. The wraith had lost him as prey for good, and Bob was pleased to see it. Harry came to stand in front of Bob, resting his hand on the table that held the skull.

"What can I do for you," Harry asked in a quiet voice. Bob tilted his head, then smiled once more.

"I want you to touch me," he waved his hand through his skull carelessly, "Without any barriers between us. I can no longer deny my need to know what our connection fully feels like."

"I… won't it hurt?" Harry hesitated, making no move to obey. Bob shook his head, and waved the same hand at the bed behind them.

"I just claimed you as my own, and you accepted my claim," he reminded the man, "I am permitted to make this decision, am I not?"

"Of course you are," Harry replied evenly, "You always have been. I'd never force you to act against your own welfare Bob. And I am grateful that you… care enough to claim me."

"It's been a long time since anyone has," Bob realised, "The apprentices, your masters, they are all transient to you."

"A little," Harry nodded, "I was never going to live on those ships forever, and Sensei spoke of returning home more than once. Signore was always complaining about living on the ship, but my mothers wards would glow when we got close to land, and there was always the feeling of being hunted for. Master Haggis had the knowledge to teach me to suppress myself enough that this place is safe… provided I don't let a wraith in of course."

Bob snorted in amusement, using the reaction to cover his deeper one of pity. He, at least, had been claimed and owned, even if he hadn't wanted it. Harry had lost any claim to another with the death of his father, and had been raised almost literally adrift.

"Honestly, I should be insulted," Bob scolded lightly, and was secretly delighted when Harry blushed and ducked his head, "A wraith of all things."

"It won't happen again," Harry promised, "I meant it when I acknowledged your claim."

"I meant it when I claimed you," Bob replied firmly, "And now I would like to know exactly who I have claimed. If you please," he waved his hand at the skull again and Harry gave him a long look before reaching out and cupping the cheek of the skull as if he was cupping Bob's own face.

Bob met his master's eyes and took a long slow breath, slowly lowering the barriers he kept between himself and his physical connection.

It was like having a festering wound lanced. A moment of pain, and then intense relief as Harry's connection made itself known to him. Care, concern, affection all dominated the connection, with more complex bands of love and desire enfolded him in deep warmth.

"Bob?" Harry sounded alarmed and Bob realised his hands were pressed to his chest as he struggled for breath, an old habit he could not deny.

"Don't let go, please!" Bob begged and Harry returned his hand to full contact slowly, watching Bob closely. How did such a slender man contain such depths of emotion, let alone for the dead and damned sorcerer he'd claimed to deny Morningway's coven a tool of great worth? Harry had never said that was why he'd claimed Bob, but Bob had realised long ago that was the case. The fact that Harry had claimed him and then granted as much freedom and autonomy as he had, instead of claiming him and then locking him away somewhere said a lot about the character of the man, and his understanding of Bob's curse. He was no ordinary Ghost, an incomplete copy of his living self: he was Hrothbert of Bainbridge in his entirety, his memories, emotions and will fully intact.

The intensity faded as Bob assimilated the touch, and he straightened, composing himself once more. The bond was still there, just not overwhelmingly so. He revelled in it for long moments and then smiled at Harry, who was beginning to look quite concerned.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked quietly, and Bob nodded.

"It is hard to describe," he murmured, "The relief of pain, the removal of strain from blocking said pain. You've replaced it with something so simple and so much better, my own. Something I haven't had since I lived."

Harry looked relieved, peering at him closely, "There's colour in your cheeks," he told Bob, "Usually, you're as white as the walls."

"Just… don't let go of me, please. Just for tonight," Bob would not normally have been so blatant in his need, but he couldn't bear the thought of losing the depth of the bond so soon. Harry smiled and scooped the skull up, holding it securely against his chest.

"That I can do," he informed Bob lightly, then turned to look at the glowing wards, "Not like I am going anywhere tonight. Any ideas?"

"Dom has gone for assistance," Bob replied, "He was here when… it first attracted you, and for subsequent events."

No point in hiding that someone had witnessed their first act of desire. Bob wasn't ready to say love yet. Harry blushed again and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. There was a scuffle outside the doors and indistinct shouting. Ingrid and Kenji had arrived then, as had Luke if Bob was hearing correctly. Harry tensed but made no move to open the door. Bob was glad to see that he trusted the apprentices to deal with such a thing, once properly forewarned.

The glow of the wards faded and the hum they'd been giving off ceased, noticeable now only in their absence. After a moment Bob waved for Harry to stay still while he went and stepped through the door and out onto the landing. Ingrid and Kenji jumped when he did, then hurried to his side, their improvised exorcism kit littered about the space. Luke looked up from where he was stowing away his own tools, his glance no less concerned.

"How is he?" Kenji asked anxiously, and Bob gave a small, reserved smile. Harry was very fine indeed, but the Ghost wasn't about to share that bit of knowledge with anyone, lest they think he was going soft.

"He is unharmed, if a little disconcerted," Bob replied, "You can go in."

Ingrid had a key for the door and let them in, the apprentices hurrying to examine Harry. Dom appeared on the landing, having evidently come in through the ground floor and came to stand with Bob.

"You will not be permitted to harm him," Dom said it casually, as if they were discussing the weather, "I will not allow it."

"I will never harm him," Bob replied in the same tone, "I would not allow it either."

Dom nodded and followed the apprentices inside. Bob took a deep breath and checked on the bond again. It throbbed beneath his skin with tender warmth, calling him inside like a siren. He took a moment to compose himself and then rejoined the living in the smaller attic.

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