For gehayi: The Dresden Files: Catitude
Title: Catitude
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV verse)
Characters: Bob, young Harry, Justin Morningway
Words: 2,341
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Written for gehayi, who asked for Bob and wee Harry. I should probably also mention that this started out as a drabblish ficlet, until an unexpected muse crashed the party.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
With a decisive chime, the antique grandfather clock marked the half hour. Three Thirty! it warned.
Hrothbert of Bainbridge paid it little heed as he perused the faded ink on the parchment laid out before him. There was a time when he would have used the thirty minutes before the fourth hour after noon to prepare the day’s lesson for his Master’s nephew. It was his charge to see to the boy’s education in the Laws of Magic and the disciplines of the Craft, said lessons to commence every weekday afternoon upon that worthy’s return from the expensive private school that taught him the more pedestrian subjects.
Unfortunately, Time and young Harry Dresden were not friends. Indeed, they were seldom passing acquaintances. In the past three months, Harry had managed to arrive on time for his afternoon lessons a grand total of five times - those days comprising the first week of his schooling, when he undoubtedly wished to make a good first impression on both teacher and patron. That initial introductory period was enough to divest Harry of the fallacy that “magic” was simply a matter of wishing for something to happen or waving a stage magician’s wand while intoning “hocus pocus.” Magic was actually difficult and exacting work, with more laws than mundane physics and fraught with peril. Add to that daunting realization the scrutiny of a stern and harsh mentor - one used to tutoring the spoilt offspring of pompous wizards - and small wonder that the boy was now habitually tardy to his afternoon “chore.”
Although Hrothbert brought his errant student to task for every unpunctual minute, the old ghost truthfully couldn’t fault Harry for his attempts to avoid the inevitable. He could only imagine what it must be like to be an eleven year old child, suddenly bereft of both beloved father and the uninhibited, bohemian lifestyle they had shared. How confusing it must have been for the newly orphaned Harry to find himself thrust into his estranged Uncle Justin’s rigidly structured, opulent, cold world of money and power. It must be a bit like finding oneself torn from a warm summer’s day and thrust into a harsh winter’s night.
Best to let the boy find some release and come to terms with his fate in his own way, Hrothbert mused.
And hopefully soon. Although Justin Morningway remained ignorant of his nephew’s habitual lateness to class, there would come a time when he would insist on sitting in on one of the lessons to observe Harry’s progress. It would not go well for either student or mentor should Harry arrive late for that all important, but unannounced, visitation.
It may be time to nudge the child in a direction that-
A familiar but surprisingly unusual sound intruded on the sorcerer’s musings. The front door to the manor house was a heavy, wooden affair bound in dark iron ornamentation that made a solid thump when opened or closed with normal use. When opened with stealth, those selfsame iron hinges had a tendency to protest with a thin squeal. This design was deliberate, entailing no magical warding and yet making it virtually impossible to enter or leave without some manner of noise announcing the passing.
Hrothbert looked at the face of the grandfather clock.
Surely not!
But the soft sound of sneakered feet on the foyer’s hardwood floor declared that his senses had not deceived him. It was twenty minutes before the hour. For the first time since arriving at the Morningway estate, Harry Dresden was actually early for his appointment! More surprisingly, he had caught his mentor unprepared with the day’s lesson!
It was enough to startle a “Merde!” out of the ghost, who quickly rose to his full, imposing stature and turned to face the study doorway in time to greet his student’s arrival with an air of haughty disdain. By doing so, Hrothbert was in time to see Harry literally tip-toeing down the corridor and past the study’s open doorway on his way to realms unknown.
Hrothbert allowed the boy to continue several steps out of sight before he said aloud, “Eh-hem.”
The soft scuff of rubberized tread on oak came to an abrupt halt. He could almost see the boy cock his head, listening with the hope that he had misheard.
“Master Dresden.”
This time Hrothbert did not need imagination to hear the muttered curse nor the heavy sigh that punctuated it. Indeed, the child’s consternation and guilt were clearly written on his face when he peeped around the doorway into the makeshift classroom.
“Oh, um … hi Bob,” said Harry as he attempted a tone of casual innocence. “I’m not late, am I?”
“No, you are not. In fact, you are almost a quarter hour early.”
“Great!” Pleasing the cranky old spook was a good thing as far as Harry was concerned, even if it was unintentional. “So, um, I still have some time before we start, right? Because I’m early?”
“Have you a pressing engagement elsewhere?”
“No. Yes! I do. I mean, I uh … didn’t get a chance to eat lunch!” As Harry spoke, he was careful to shield most of his body from sight by standing behind the door jamb. “So I thought, you know, I’d just get something from the kitchen before class. A tuna sandwich maybe.” He tried a grin on for size, as if this would add credence to his tale. “It’ll just take me a few minutes and I’ll be right back!”
With that, Harry quickly pulled back and turned to hurry down the hallway. A sudden flare of orange flame ignited before him, drawing a mewling cry of surprise and consternation as the ghost materialized directly in his path.
“Don’t DO that!” Harry exclaimed as he hugged his arms tight around himself. A small lump concealed beneath his windbreaker wriggled in response . “You’ll scare her.” Reaching up, he unzipped enough of his jacket to allow him to peep inside. “Shhhhh. It’s all right. He won’t hurt you.”
Hrothbert lifted a pale brow at the conviction in the boy’s words. Before he could challenge the statement, Harry continued to console the tiny creature cradled within his keeping.
“This is Bob. Well, really, his name is Roth-bert but I like Bob better. He’s my teacher and he’s a ghost. He’s kinda cranky-“
“Indeed?” huffed Hrothbert.
“-and he can be a little snooty but he’s not nasty or mean or anything like that.”
Hrothbert marveled at that conclusion. How long had it been since he’d been confronted with the very real innocence and candor of a child?
“If we might dispense with the monologue?” he said, affecting his usual imperious tone. “Show me the feline.”
“How did you know it was-“
“Show me.”
Harry hastily unzipped the jacket further still, until the kitten within was able to peek out. Its bright green eyes seemed overlarge in a tiny face of black fur.
“It cannot stay.”
“But Bob--!”
“You know your Uncle’s feeling on the matter.”
“I know he said no pets, but-“
“There are no ‘buts’ where your Uncle is concerned, Harry, and you would do well to remember that. Within these walls, his word is absolute. No pets.”
“But what if he doesn’t know? What if he doesn’t find out?” Harry’s dark eyes were expressively hopeful as he held the ghost’s gaze. “I can keep her in my room. Maybe in my closet.”
“Harry.”
“I can sneak her tuna and water and-“
“No.”
“But Booooob! I can’t just put her back out on the street! She’s all alone. She’ll get hurt or worse!” Like me.
The words between the lines were not spoken aloud, but Hrothbert heard them nonetheless. Who better to understand the longing and need to fill the empty void of loneliness than a dead and damned sorcerer?
“Please, Bob?”
“It is not my decision to make, Harry. It is your Uncle’s.” He pointedly did not look at the kitten as it reached out a tiny paw to bat the jacket’s shiny zipper pull. “Besides which, it is a fact that felines cannot abide being near the spirits of the dead. Living within these walls will only terrify her.”
In an attempt to tackle the new toy with both paws, the kitten pushed with its hind legs against Harry’s chest.
“Wait!” cried Harry, but was too late to catch the furry missile.
The kitten sailed into space and landed with a squeak of surprise on all fours at Hrothbert’s feet. Crouching, it blinked at the polished, fashionable shoes it faced.
Hrothbert took a step backward.
“Mrrrwow?” said the kitten, and took a step forward.
“Stop right there,” ordered the ghost. “At once.”
The kitten glanced up at the sharp tone, its expression quizzical, before advancing again.
“She looks really scared to me,” said Harry with a grin as she advanced on his tutor. “I think she likes-“
“HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!
The transformation was astonishingly instantaneous. In a heartbeat, the tiny creature at their feet grew to twice its normal size as every ebony hair stood rigidly on end. With its back arched and tail rigid, the kitten hunkered down, flattened its ears against its skull, and bared its sharp little teeth at the ghost.
The kitten’s aversion came as no surprise to Hrothbert. Harry’s reaction, however, was another matter entirely.
Darting forward, Harry scooped the animal off of the floor. Hugging it protectively to his chest, he backpedaled to a distance well beyond the ghost’s reach and looked at him with trepidation.
Does he truly think me capable of harming such a creature?
Squirming in the circle of Harry’s arms, the kitten turned itself around so that it was facing the ghost and spit.
Before Hrothbert could utter a suitable retort for this miniature display of aggression, an all too familiar voice from directly behind him demanded to know, “What is that creature doing in my house?!”
“It’s a kitten,” said Harry. Although there was a slight tremor to his voice, he spoke with conviction and defiance. “I brought her in. It was--”
“--At my instruction,” interjected Hrothbert as he turned to face his Master’s wrath.
“Yours?” Justin Morningway’s fingers tightened like talons on the silver ball handle of his cane. “Even though I expressly forbade it?”
“You forbade the introduction of a creature with no worth or purpose. That edict does not apply in this case.”
“Explain.”
“Margaret. Your sister. She had an affinity for animals, did she not?”
Morningway’s eyes narrowed. “She was always bringing the damned things home with her, if that’s what you mean.”
“As I recall, cats seemed to be especially fond of your sister.” Hrothbert paused a moment, allowing the implication a chance to find its way. “Almost preternaturally so,” he added, in case the obvious conclusion might need a bit of assistance.
“You’re suggesting animal magnetism. A fey power.”
“I am.”
“That kind of Talent hasn’t been seen or heard of in a mortal wizard in centuries.” Morningway’s gaze darted to his nephew then back again. “Not very likely.”
“You once ordered me to discern whether there was any truth to the rumor of a fey ancestor in the Morningway bloodline. This presents the opportunity to do so.” Hrothbert lowered his tone, as if Harry were not standing less than three feet away and well within hearing. “There would be no harm if it comes to naught, but consider the possibilities should it bear fruit.”
“It would make for a powerful ally.” Morningway considered the animal in his nephew’s arms with a thoughtful expression.
“It would indeed.” Hrothbert could almost see that intelligent and oh-so- dangerous mind mulling over the possibilities, the risks, and the rewards.
“You missed your calling, Ghost. You would have made an excellent used car salesman.”
Hrothbert acknowledged the rare compliment with a cold smile and a slight inclination of his head.
Harry had been trying to follow the conversation while struggling to keep the kitten from flying out of his arms and launching itself at his Uncle. “Does that mean I can keep her?”
“You can keep it as long as it remains useful.” Morningway pointed a thick finger at Harry. “But it stays in your room when not being used in your studies. I suggest you take that order to heart, Nephew.”
“I will! I promise!” Harry readily agreed. “Thank you, Uncle Justin! You won’t be sorry!”
“See that I’m not.”
From the study, the grandfather clock began to strike the hour of four.
“There is no time like the present to begin,” said Hrothbert. “With your permission, I will proceed with Master Dresden’s daily lesson.”
Morningway gave a curt nod of consent and watched as the ghost ushered his nephew into the study. The kitten watched Morningway in return, hackles raised and ears flat until the moment Harry closed the room’s door behind him, blocking both hallway and wizard from view.
“I trust I do not need to stress the importance of your promise to your Uncle,” said Hrothbert. “For your sake as well as that of your new charge, I would keep her well out of his sight.”
“I won’t give Uncle Justin any reason to make me get rid of her.” Harry stroked the soft fur. “She’ll be safe with me.”
“As fine a promise as any Don Quixote might give his Dulcinea.”
“Huh?”
Hrothbert dismissed the reference with a negligent wave of his hand. “Since your feline companion is already present for this particular lesson, we might as well discuss familiars.”
“Bob? Did my mom really have cat magic?”
“The only ‘cat magic’ is that mystique that comes naturally to all of their kind.”
“But you told Uncle Justin-“
“-that your mother had an affinity for animals, especially cats; yes. Because your mother was a kindhearted child who could not bear to see any creature suffer.”
“Am I like her?”
A most excellent question, thought Hrothbert. He was beginning to wonder that himself.
“We shall see.”
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV verse)
Characters: Bob, young Harry, Justin Morningway
Words: 2,341
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Written for gehayi, who asked for Bob and wee Harry. I should probably also mention that this started out as a drabblish ficlet, until an unexpected muse crashed the party.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
With a decisive chime, the antique grandfather clock marked the half hour. Three Thirty! it warned.
Hrothbert of Bainbridge paid it little heed as he perused the faded ink on the parchment laid out before him. There was a time when he would have used the thirty minutes before the fourth hour after noon to prepare the day’s lesson for his Master’s nephew. It was his charge to see to the boy’s education in the Laws of Magic and the disciplines of the Craft, said lessons to commence every weekday afternoon upon that worthy’s return from the expensive private school that taught him the more pedestrian subjects.
Unfortunately, Time and young Harry Dresden were not friends. Indeed, they were seldom passing acquaintances. In the past three months, Harry had managed to arrive on time for his afternoon lessons a grand total of five times - those days comprising the first week of his schooling, when he undoubtedly wished to make a good first impression on both teacher and patron. That initial introductory period was enough to divest Harry of the fallacy that “magic” was simply a matter of wishing for something to happen or waving a stage magician’s wand while intoning “hocus pocus.” Magic was actually difficult and exacting work, with more laws than mundane physics and fraught with peril. Add to that daunting realization the scrutiny of a stern and harsh mentor - one used to tutoring the spoilt offspring of pompous wizards - and small wonder that the boy was now habitually tardy to his afternoon “chore.”
Although Hrothbert brought his errant student to task for every unpunctual minute, the old ghost truthfully couldn’t fault Harry for his attempts to avoid the inevitable. He could only imagine what it must be like to be an eleven year old child, suddenly bereft of both beloved father and the uninhibited, bohemian lifestyle they had shared. How confusing it must have been for the newly orphaned Harry to find himself thrust into his estranged Uncle Justin’s rigidly structured, opulent, cold world of money and power. It must be a bit like finding oneself torn from a warm summer’s day and thrust into a harsh winter’s night.
Best to let the boy find some release and come to terms with his fate in his own way, Hrothbert mused.
And hopefully soon. Although Justin Morningway remained ignorant of his nephew’s habitual lateness to class, there would come a time when he would insist on sitting in on one of the lessons to observe Harry’s progress. It would not go well for either student or mentor should Harry arrive late for that all important, but unannounced, visitation.
It may be time to nudge the child in a direction that-
A familiar but surprisingly unusual sound intruded on the sorcerer’s musings. The front door to the manor house was a heavy, wooden affair bound in dark iron ornamentation that made a solid thump when opened or closed with normal use. When opened with stealth, those selfsame iron hinges had a tendency to protest with a thin squeal. This design was deliberate, entailing no magical warding and yet making it virtually impossible to enter or leave without some manner of noise announcing the passing.
Hrothbert looked at the face of the grandfather clock.
Surely not!
But the soft sound of sneakered feet on the foyer’s hardwood floor declared that his senses had not deceived him. It was twenty minutes before the hour. For the first time since arriving at the Morningway estate, Harry Dresden was actually early for his appointment! More surprisingly, he had caught his mentor unprepared with the day’s lesson!
It was enough to startle a “Merde!” out of the ghost, who quickly rose to his full, imposing stature and turned to face the study doorway in time to greet his student’s arrival with an air of haughty disdain. By doing so, Hrothbert was in time to see Harry literally tip-toeing down the corridor and past the study’s open doorway on his way to realms unknown.
Hrothbert allowed the boy to continue several steps out of sight before he said aloud, “Eh-hem.”
The soft scuff of rubberized tread on oak came to an abrupt halt. He could almost see the boy cock his head, listening with the hope that he had misheard.
“Master Dresden.”
This time Hrothbert did not need imagination to hear the muttered curse nor the heavy sigh that punctuated it. Indeed, the child’s consternation and guilt were clearly written on his face when he peeped around the doorway into the makeshift classroom.
“Oh, um … hi Bob,” said Harry as he attempted a tone of casual innocence. “I’m not late, am I?”
“No, you are not. In fact, you are almost a quarter hour early.”
“Great!” Pleasing the cranky old spook was a good thing as far as Harry was concerned, even if it was unintentional. “So, um, I still have some time before we start, right? Because I’m early?”
“Have you a pressing engagement elsewhere?”
“No. Yes! I do. I mean, I uh … didn’t get a chance to eat lunch!” As Harry spoke, he was careful to shield most of his body from sight by standing behind the door jamb. “So I thought, you know, I’d just get something from the kitchen before class. A tuna sandwich maybe.” He tried a grin on for size, as if this would add credence to his tale. “It’ll just take me a few minutes and I’ll be right back!”
With that, Harry quickly pulled back and turned to hurry down the hallway. A sudden flare of orange flame ignited before him, drawing a mewling cry of surprise and consternation as the ghost materialized directly in his path.
“Don’t DO that!” Harry exclaimed as he hugged his arms tight around himself. A small lump concealed beneath his windbreaker wriggled in response . “You’ll scare her.” Reaching up, he unzipped enough of his jacket to allow him to peep inside. “Shhhhh. It’s all right. He won’t hurt you.”
Hrothbert lifted a pale brow at the conviction in the boy’s words. Before he could challenge the statement, Harry continued to console the tiny creature cradled within his keeping.
“This is Bob. Well, really, his name is Roth-bert but I like Bob better. He’s my teacher and he’s a ghost. He’s kinda cranky-“
“Indeed?” huffed Hrothbert.
“-and he can be a little snooty but he’s not nasty or mean or anything like that.”
Hrothbert marveled at that conclusion. How long had it been since he’d been confronted with the very real innocence and candor of a child?
“If we might dispense with the monologue?” he said, affecting his usual imperious tone. “Show me the feline.”
“How did you know it was-“
“Show me.”
Harry hastily unzipped the jacket further still, until the kitten within was able to peek out. Its bright green eyes seemed overlarge in a tiny face of black fur.
“It cannot stay.”
“But Bob--!”
“You know your Uncle’s feeling on the matter.”
“I know he said no pets, but-“
“There are no ‘buts’ where your Uncle is concerned, Harry, and you would do well to remember that. Within these walls, his word is absolute. No pets.”
“But what if he doesn’t know? What if he doesn’t find out?” Harry’s dark eyes were expressively hopeful as he held the ghost’s gaze. “I can keep her in my room. Maybe in my closet.”
“Harry.”
“I can sneak her tuna and water and-“
“No.”
“But Booooob! I can’t just put her back out on the street! She’s all alone. She’ll get hurt or worse!” Like me.
The words between the lines were not spoken aloud, but Hrothbert heard them nonetheless. Who better to understand the longing and need to fill the empty void of loneliness than a dead and damned sorcerer?
“Please, Bob?”
“It is not my decision to make, Harry. It is your Uncle’s.” He pointedly did not look at the kitten as it reached out a tiny paw to bat the jacket’s shiny zipper pull. “Besides which, it is a fact that felines cannot abide being near the spirits of the dead. Living within these walls will only terrify her.”
In an attempt to tackle the new toy with both paws, the kitten pushed with its hind legs against Harry’s chest.
“Wait!” cried Harry, but was too late to catch the furry missile.
The kitten sailed into space and landed with a squeak of surprise on all fours at Hrothbert’s feet. Crouching, it blinked at the polished, fashionable shoes it faced.
Hrothbert took a step backward.
“Mrrrwow?” said the kitten, and took a step forward.
“Stop right there,” ordered the ghost. “At once.”
The kitten glanced up at the sharp tone, its expression quizzical, before advancing again.
“She looks really scared to me,” said Harry with a grin as she advanced on his tutor. “I think she likes-“
“HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!
The transformation was astonishingly instantaneous. In a heartbeat, the tiny creature at their feet grew to twice its normal size as every ebony hair stood rigidly on end. With its back arched and tail rigid, the kitten hunkered down, flattened its ears against its skull, and bared its sharp little teeth at the ghost.
The kitten’s aversion came as no surprise to Hrothbert. Harry’s reaction, however, was another matter entirely.
Darting forward, Harry scooped the animal off of the floor. Hugging it protectively to his chest, he backpedaled to a distance well beyond the ghost’s reach and looked at him with trepidation.
Does he truly think me capable of harming such a creature?
Squirming in the circle of Harry’s arms, the kitten turned itself around so that it was facing the ghost and spit.
Before Hrothbert could utter a suitable retort for this miniature display of aggression, an all too familiar voice from directly behind him demanded to know, “What is that creature doing in my house?!”
“It’s a kitten,” said Harry. Although there was a slight tremor to his voice, he spoke with conviction and defiance. “I brought her in. It was--”
“--At my instruction,” interjected Hrothbert as he turned to face his Master’s wrath.
“Yours?” Justin Morningway’s fingers tightened like talons on the silver ball handle of his cane. “Even though I expressly forbade it?”
“You forbade the introduction of a creature with no worth or purpose. That edict does not apply in this case.”
“Explain.”
“Margaret. Your sister. She had an affinity for animals, did she not?”
Morningway’s eyes narrowed. “She was always bringing the damned things home with her, if that’s what you mean.”
“As I recall, cats seemed to be especially fond of your sister.” Hrothbert paused a moment, allowing the implication a chance to find its way. “Almost preternaturally so,” he added, in case the obvious conclusion might need a bit of assistance.
“You’re suggesting animal magnetism. A fey power.”
“I am.”
“That kind of Talent hasn’t been seen or heard of in a mortal wizard in centuries.” Morningway’s gaze darted to his nephew then back again. “Not very likely.”
“You once ordered me to discern whether there was any truth to the rumor of a fey ancestor in the Morningway bloodline. This presents the opportunity to do so.” Hrothbert lowered his tone, as if Harry were not standing less than three feet away and well within hearing. “There would be no harm if it comes to naught, but consider the possibilities should it bear fruit.”
“It would make for a powerful ally.” Morningway considered the animal in his nephew’s arms with a thoughtful expression.
“It would indeed.” Hrothbert could almost see that intelligent and oh-so- dangerous mind mulling over the possibilities, the risks, and the rewards.
“You missed your calling, Ghost. You would have made an excellent used car salesman.”
Hrothbert acknowledged the rare compliment with a cold smile and a slight inclination of his head.
Harry had been trying to follow the conversation while struggling to keep the kitten from flying out of his arms and launching itself at his Uncle. “Does that mean I can keep her?”
“You can keep it as long as it remains useful.” Morningway pointed a thick finger at Harry. “But it stays in your room when not being used in your studies. I suggest you take that order to heart, Nephew.”
“I will! I promise!” Harry readily agreed. “Thank you, Uncle Justin! You won’t be sorry!”
“See that I’m not.”
From the study, the grandfather clock began to strike the hour of four.
“There is no time like the present to begin,” said Hrothbert. “With your permission, I will proceed with Master Dresden’s daily lesson.”
Morningway gave a curt nod of consent and watched as the ghost ushered his nephew into the study. The kitten watched Morningway in return, hackles raised and ears flat until the moment Harry closed the room’s door behind him, blocking both hallway and wizard from view.
“I trust I do not need to stress the importance of your promise to your Uncle,” said Hrothbert. “For your sake as well as that of your new charge, I would keep her well out of his sight.”
“I won’t give Uncle Justin any reason to make me get rid of her.” Harry stroked the soft fur. “She’ll be safe with me.”
“As fine a promise as any Don Quixote might give his Dulcinea.”
“Huh?”
Hrothbert dismissed the reference with a negligent wave of his hand. “Since your feline companion is already present for this particular lesson, we might as well discuss familiars.”
“Bob? Did my mom really have cat magic?”
“The only ‘cat magic’ is that mystique that comes naturally to all of their kind.”
“But you told Uncle Justin-“
“-that your mother had an affinity for animals, especially cats; yes. Because your mother was a kindhearted child who could not bear to see any creature suffer.”
“Am I like her?”
A most excellent question, thought Hrothbert. He was beginning to wonder that himself.
“We shall see.”