Next one, finally!

This one has equal focus. Foci? Whatever, just read it.

~Multi-Faceted~

VIII: Touch

Being touched in any positive way was a rarity for Harry. A gift. As a child he'd had so little physical contact that he hardly expected any - but, secretly, longed for it. Thus, coming to Hogwarts had been a dream come true for him - the life of a boy wizard brought him gentle punches from Ron and his other guy friends, hugs from Hermione, and the occasional hand from a teacher that helped guide his wand movements to a successfully-cast spell.

But none of these touches mattered as much to Harry as did Albus Dumbledore's.

Perhaps it was because of all those people Harry had met and continued to meet, he always least expected to have any sort of physical contact with his jovial-but-often-distant headmaster. Regardless of the reason, though, the first time Albus had put his hand on eleven-year-old Harry's head in the hospital wing had stuck with him, and now every subsequent time they made contact it sent a pleasant jolt through the boy. Each ruffle of his hair, pat on his shoulder and arm wrapped around him only confirmed that Albus cared about him, that Albus loved him even. And that was the best gift of all.

As for Albus, he himself had never imagined being fond of a scrawny boy with messy hair and intense eyes - certainly not paternally so. But Harry was as much a pleasant surprise in his heart as he was everywhere else, and as a genius Albus was prone to learning from his mistakes. He had not been very affectionate (physically or otherwise) with his blood family, and had lost nearly all of them as a result. He would not make the same mistake with Harry - he was determined not to.

So he showered Harry with the attention the boy craved, while simultaneously breaking down his own reclusive barriers - and Harry gradually learned to stick close to his headmaster, often burying his head in his chest or laying it on the old man's shoulder when troubled or lonely. And over time, both became used to being in close contact, whether they were standing shoulder to shoulder against Death Eaters or hugging each other to banish particularly potent nightmares.

It took time, but they bonded. And all was well.