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[The Dresden Files (TV)] Truth Be Told (1/8)
Title: Truth Be Told
Fandom: Dresden Files (TV)
Characters/Pairings: Bob, Harry, Justin
Rating: PG-13
Length: This chapter: +2400
Summary: AU. What would have happened if Bob had suffered a radical change of heart and taken to himself to protect Harry when he was young?
Spoilers: For the episode 1x10 "What About Bob?"
Harry was looking longingly through the window to Morningway's exuberant, luxurious, and extremely lonely garden. Bob was aware that his pupil felt sunny days, such as this one, existed only to make him despair. Or, as Harry himself would put it, to rub salt on the wounds. Ether way, while it was true the flowers out there seemed to be having more fun than the poor boy, this was the time of the day designated to the molding of his mind, so the only thing Bob could do was to call him back to the sad reality.
“Do you plan to pay attention to your lessons any time soon, master Dresden?” Bob said right above Harry, startling him.
Immediately, the boy jumped again, since the first time his head had gone through Bob's chin.
Bob, on the other hand, didn't even blink.
The ghost had been told many times, with different degrees of subtlety depending on the speaker, that it wasn't exactly a pleasant experience, so he most certainly wasn't expecting a fit of giggles. He'd heard it described, for example, as 'disturbing', 'eerie', 'frightening', 'cold', and even 'ew, what the...?' the first time Harry had accidentally walked through him. Still, after all these years, a small part of Bob continued to hope –to dream– of a painful bump.
“Sorry,” Bob heard, and it took him a moment to realize Harry meant to apologize for being inattentive and for trespassing his teacher's personal space so crudely, not because he pitied him. At least, he did not right that moment.
Bob sighed.
Harry wasn't the first student one of his many guardians through the centuries had put in his charge, but he was the youngest of them all. As well as one of the brightest and with the most potential. If either Morningway or the Council ever bothered to actually pay attention, they'd surely reevaluate the wisdom of letting a dark, evil sorcerer to groom Harry up. They would appoint another teacher, and that would be the last Bob would see of Harry until he'd grown up and learned the truth about him, with all that it implied.
Bob hurried to put aside the sting of pain he felt at the thought, telling himself that he didn't have any need of creating a deep attachment to a being who, unlike him, wouldn't be on this world for long. Besides, Harry would have to became aware of Bob's story in due time.
Nevertheless, even from an objective point of view, no good would come if Harry was removed from Bob's care. One of the reasons being that only Bob knew both his syllabus and the fine workings of his classes. Morningway had said, “Do as you see fit,” and that was exactly what Bob was doing.
Having noticed very early Harry's natural curiosity, Bob took the approach of letting slip bits of information, mainly very old –and otherwise boring– lore, here and there for Harry to muse upon and ask about either its true meaning or the rest of the story later. This method was effective and kept the student's attention for long enough, the latest being the greatest challenge any teacher in any period of history had to face.
As a result, if someone else was to take charge of Harry's education at any given point, it was guaranteed that the boy would possess fragmented information, the rest of which nearly impossible to find, if not outright impossible. Incomplete knowledge, even with good intentions, had always worse results than misused complete knowledge, the axiom went, serving as proof that, at the end, the whole switching-teachers affair would end up being Dangerous with a capital D for everyone involved.
Following this line of impeccable logic, it became an understatement that no-one but Bob could now teach Harry Dresden about the subtleties of the Art.
“Did you finish already?” Bob asked next, referring to a test he'd given to Harry about half an hour ago.
“Uh, not yet. I got a little confused with the last one,” the boy said.
Bob looked at the clock on the bookshelf. Less than fifteen minutes for lunch. Most of the time, it didn't matter, but Morningway was at home that day; the man believed having lunch with his nephew once in a while would help them to bond successfully, and he got very upset if Harry wasn't there on time.
“Can you solve it on your own within the next ten minutes or do you need a pointer?” the ghost asked.
Harry tapped the paper with his finger. “It says what's better to capture threads of moonlight, water or mirror, if I wanted to tie an Incan mummy. The thing is, I remember you said water gets you stronger threads, but it also takes longer and if there's a freaking mummy chasing me, I'd sorta like to try something, y'know, more effective.”
“And mirrors are easier to carry around than a body of water,” Bob added, choosing not to reprimand Harry about his vocabulary his time around.
Harry looked at Bob with shifty eyes. “Well, yeah, there's that too...”
“But...?”
Harry looked from the desk to Bob and then breathed deeply before answering, “I'd pretty much rather to blast the thing with fire or something... I mean, if it doesn't belong to a museum or... stuff...”
Bob rolled his eyes in an attempt to stop an undignified fit of laughter. “In other words, you'd prefer to have all the variables before making a decision,” he said after a second, “otherwise known as 'thinking on your feet'.”
“Is that too bad?”
“Not really. When you're on the field, thinking creatively can save your life. Nevertheless, right now you're on a safe environment where you're supposed to give the precise theoretical answer to your teacher's question.”
“I got it wrong, then, huh?”
“Oh, no. Quite the contrary. You correctly mentioned water was the answer. Write it down so your uncle can see we did something today. About the rest,” Bob continued as Harry put pen on paper, “maybe it'd be a good idea to discuss the consequences of different spells in specific real-life situations.”
Harry raised his head. “Really? That sounds cool!”
Bob covered a smile with his hand. “Certainly. For example, here's a little known fact: magical fire can turn an Egyptian mummy to ashes, but it'd only make an Incan mummy even angrier.”
Harry's lips formed an 'O'.
Bob smiled again and proceeded to explain the right way to summon lighting to finish the hypothetical and sturdy Incan mummy.
“For our next class,” he said once Harry had taken note of the new spell, “I want you to think about five scenarios as detailed as possible where your life is endangered by magical creatures. We'll find a way to get you out of them alive.”
“Cool!” Harry exclaimed again, cuing Bob to think, once more, that perhaps he should set time apart to teach the boy the proper use of a thesaurus.
“Run along, then,” the ghost said, nodding his head. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah! Bye, Bob. Thanks!”
Harry walked out the study leaving a very proud Bob behind.
Few wizards Harry's age –specially those as well-provided in the material aspect of life– would answer that sort of questions actually noticing they could be under a death threat in the proposed circumstances. They usually went by the book and recite the theory as, if one were to pardon the cliché, parrots.
There was more than one reason for that, though, aside of laziness and lack of creativity. His other students, older and raised since birth in the world of magic, knew Bob's story, what he had done, why he had been –and still was being– punished. In other words, he scared them. Thus, they wouldn't dare to do more than repeat what he'd said as he'd said it, and even less to challenge him and propose alternatives.
Harry Dresden not only did not fear Bob, even if he was the first ghost the boy'd ever seen, but Harry also had a big mouth and wasn't afraid to use it.
Harry's attitude, correctly tempered, would, by all means, help the boy to reach the highest seats in the Council, and even become the Merlin himself some day.
Then Bob remembered Morningway's plans for his nephew, and it was like if the finest and sweetest of all crystal bubbles would've broken all around him.
Harry wouldn't reach the highest seats in the Council; he would act as his uncle's puppet to help him overcome the Council. That if Morningway got away with his plan and persuade Harry to join him. If he didn't, the boy would suffer the unpleasant consequences.
In many occasions, Bob had felt the urge –the need– to drop some warning to Harry, but it was strictly forbidden for him to meddle with his current guardian's affairs.
Bob's train of thought made an abrupt pause when he realized something regarding the precise wording of those instructions.
Meddling was strictly, yet tacitly forbidden.
He didn't remember any member of the Council nor any of his guardians giving him such an order directly, and he had an excellent memory.
Maybe, he thought, maybe he would be able to do something within that small field of action he had left.
Another realization dawned on him and Bob sighed again.
He was more than doing exactly what he'd told himself not to just a short while ago; he'd already lost that battle without knowing exactly when it'd taken place. He might as well stop trying to fool himself.
Harry and he had a bond already; either of them would even dare call the other a friend, if only because Bob was the boy's only possibility of interaction since his uncle had taken him under his crow-like wing, and Harry was the only one who had talked to Bob with a warm voice and kind words since... Winifred.
Winifred.
Sweet, beautiful Winifred.
She would ask him to protect the boy.
Bob grimaced. He would've hit the desk with his fist if he could've done it, but as things were, grimacing would have to be enough.
He decided right then he was going to protect Harry Dresden. He would do it for Harry's own sake and for Winifred's memory, the only good thing he had left from the past.
Two seconds later it was all settled down, Bob asked himself when he'd grown so soft.
He replied that he didn't know but he wasn't sure he regretted it.
That night, Justin Morningway went to the study with, of all things, the intention to congratulate Bob.
“Harry asked me for some books on mythozoology while we were having lunch and he made a few questions about animals. He said it was for homework, but he looked very enthusiastic about it.” Morningway was beaming from his chair. “I liked that, seeing him so eager to learn. You're doing a great job motivating him.”
“Thank you,” Bob replied. “Though, if I may say so, I believe Harry is the one you should be praising. He needs to know he's on the right path.”
Morningway waved his hand. “I will in due time. His birthday is next week, after all.”
Bob nodded. He didn't know that, but he took note of the fact and wondered briefly what he would give Harry if he were in the position to give him something. Not a book, though; Harry was surely tired of books.
“I want to do something nice for him,” Morningway added.
Since his guardian seemed to be in a good mood, Bob risked to ask, “Are you throwing a party, then?”
Morningway merely shook his head –good mood, indeed– and answered, “You know I can't do that.”
Of course you can't. If Harry is going to dispose of those in the magic community who oppose you when he grows up, it'd be better if he doesn't warm up to them.
“I was planning to buy him new clothes and maybe some ice cream, but given his new interest in animals, I changed my mind. I surprised you, didn't I?” Morningway added, showing all of his teeth, and Bob realized he was gaping.
Yes, he man had undoubtedly surprised the ghost. Specially now that Bob had entirely forgotten how much of Morningway's concern about his nephew was real. Although, and probably not even Morningway himself would dare to doubt if it were voiced aloud, it was a selfish affection, one that wouldn't last longer than Harry's blind obedience. One that made even more necessary for Bob to proceed with his plan.
Morningway kept talking. “I don't want to give him something he'd hate, but if I ask him, I would spoil the surprise. You know him better than I do,” he said, a small hint of bitterness in his voice that sounded out of place, “so tell me, what do you think he would like?”
After the few more seconds it took Bob to put himself together, he started thinking what sort of animal Harry would like best, one that would stay out of the way enough for Morningway not to change his mind later about it. He found it soon in the first places on the list of traditional familiars.
“I didn't know you could do that,” Harry said the next day, after Bob gave him a possible strategy to scape from a guardian imp while in a graveyard at midnight.
“It's called 'cheating',” Bob replied. “The rules of fair game are against it but, as we'd previously established, when there's no other way...”
Harry tilted his head. “I get it. It makes sense.”
“Yes, it does. Now, you did a good job with those scenarios. You have a big imagination for someone who doesn't read much fiction.”
Harry grinned.
“Still,” Bob continued –This is the moment; if I'm going to do it, it has to be right now–, “you missed something, Harry.”
“What?”
“One of the worst situations that you could ever find yourself in. One that is, sadly, far too frequent in the real world for anyone's comfort.”
Harry stared at Bob, intrigued.
Bob waited a few seconds to build up even more tension before leaning over his student and finally said, as ominously as he could, “Listen carefully: just by belonging to your uncle's—to your mother's family, you have powerful enemies guaranteed, so, tell me, what if an evil, adult, human wizard were after you?”
Harry nodded slowly in understanding. Maybe even a little scared by this possibility he hadn't contemplated.
Good.
Chapter 2![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
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