Fic: Harry, Harry, Snape, and Bob [2/2] Dresden Files/Harry Potter
Title: Harry, Harry, Snape, and Bob [2/2]
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Dresden Files [TV]/Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Harry Dresden/Bob
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry [Potter] shows up at the office of Harry [Dresden] looking for Severus Snape. And then the plot took a long walk [as usually happens in my writing], and this becomes about four guys, two relationships, and trying to make things as right as they can be in the weird world of men named Harry [one of whom is kind of a pyromaniac].
Disclaimer: So many lies. So many.
Author's Notes: This is TV-verse "Dresden Files", and AU "Harry Potter" [I ignored large parts of book seven to pull this off]. I cannot be thankful enough for the hard work of leaper182 and shoshannagold who did the beta work on this. This story would not be nearly as good without their help. Thank you two so much. You're awesome.
PART ONE
Harry, Harry, Snape, and Bob [2/2]
By Perpetual Motion
“They are complete idiots,” Severus says to Bob as he searches the books in his office for the right title.
“I’ve been saying that for centuries,” Bob agrees.
“That they would imprison you to your skull for dark magic, I can understand at the semi-intelligent level they use for such decisions, but to allow you to play assistant and not make you corporeal to any degree is negligent.”
Bob points to the top right shelf, at a brown book with white letters on the binding. “Would that be it?”
Severus looks up. “Yes. I will have to speak to Miss Johns again about her need to rearrange my shelves. If she would simply listen-”
“How do you organize normally?” Bob asks as he moves closer to the shelves for a better look.
“By necessity. Miss Johns is a Library Sciences student and insists that my organization makes her,” Severus scowls, “twitchy.”
“You could ward your books.”
“And then be forced to explain to her why touching one made her hands burn.”
“Point,” Bob concedes. He watches Severus flip through the brown book. “I am fully accustomed to working within my boundaries,” Bob says quietly. “There is no need-”
“How much more useful could you be if you could mix the potions while your,” Snape waves a hand in a gesture that looks like it’s meant to be derisive, “companion makes the phone calls and files the paperwork?”
“Very, I suppose. Harry’s potions are adequate, but are sometimes a bit thin.” Bob meets Snape’s lowered eyebrows with a pointed look. “I attempted to teach him. Repeatedly. He chooses when to listen.”
“How terribly familiar that sounds,” Snape says with a shake of his head. “Perhaps it’s something to do with the name.”
Bob chuckles. “Perhaps.” He watches Snape pull another book from the shelf. “But really, this is unnecessary.”
“It’s not.”
There’s something in Snape’s tone, an underscore nearly hidden, that makes Bob stand a little straighter. “You owe me no penance,” he says after a moment.
“I made my decisions,” Snape says sharply. “And my penance is paid in full.”
“So this is?” Bob waves a hand to encompass the books Snape is methodically searching.
“Because if I do not try now, Harry will feel it necessary to show his thanks to you by harassing me for days, if not weeks.”
“Does that mean you’ll allow him-”
“If I do not, he’ll find me again.” Snape tries to sound exhausted by the idea, but it doesn’t quite carry. “And again and again.”
“You could tell him to leave.”
“Would it work with yours?”
Bob smirks. “Of course not.”
“And it really is a simple matter of finding the proper potion.”
“We’ve done research,” Bob says. “Many times.”
“But not with my resources,” Snape snaps, changing books again. “Whatever talents you had while alive are long out of practice.”
“I do remember how to research,” Bob throws back. “It is nearly all I do.”
“That and create doom boxes,” Snape replies.
Bob smiles a little. “You felt that?”
“I am fairly certain they felt it in Milwaukee.”
“Hmmm,” Bob mummers. “That was unintentional but necessary.”
“Tell me,” Snape says, “what does it take to create a doom box?”
“A few hundred years of no sleep,” Bob replies. “You’ve tried it?”
“Numerous times in the past, yes,” Snape admits. “Voldemort needed contingency plans, and a great deal of power wrapped into a small box is a very useful plan.”
“If you can make it work,” Bob says and precisely adjusts his cuffs.
“Yes. Bravo,” Snape drawls.
Bob smirks and watches Snape change books again. “Why?” He asks after a few moments.
“Why, what?” Snape asks without looking up.
“Voldemort.”
Snape looks up from the book, face bland. “Power.”
“That’s it?”
“What else is there?”
Bob raises his eyebrows. “Love, for one.”
“We are not all romantics, Bob. Some of us merely exist.”
“Is that why you ran from Mr. Potter?”
Snape places his current book onto the shelf and crosses his arms. “How this is your business-”
“It’s not. Except that, perhaps, there is some wallowing to be shared.”
“I do not wallow.”
“You merely exist,” Bob replies, no emotion in his tone.
Snape reaches for a new book. “Yes.”
Before Bob can call him out, the electronic bell over the door of the shop gives out half its tone and dies with a sudden screech. “I do believe the gentlemen have returned. And you’ll be in need of a new bell.”
“American wizards,” Snape mutters, and it’s as far as he gets before his office door opens.
“No one’s dead,” Dresden says, and then grins at Bob. “Well, more dead.”
“So very clever,” Bob responds with a roll of his eyes.
“I have it,” Snape cuts in, holding up a book. He glances at Harry. “It is too much to hope that you’re carrying any passable potion ingredients, I assume.”
“And hello to you, too,” Harry says. “I was a bit more concerned of not being held up in Customs.”
“I’ve got a full cupboard,” Dresden offers. He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Wait. What’s going on here?”
“I’ll tell you if it works, Harry,” Bob says before Snape can try to fill him in. “Otherwise the information will only bring false hope.”
Dresden squints at Bob. “Tell me it’s not dark magic.”
“It’s not,” Snape says peevishly.
“Neat,” Dresden responds. “But I want to hear it from Bob.”
“It is not dark magic, Harry, and you should be ashamed for assuming.”
“Hey, I know you. I trust you. Him,” Dresden points at Snape, “I’m still not sure about.”
“Flattering,” Snape looks straight at Harry.
Harry gives a bark of a laugh. “Oh, yeah, like you’ve done so much in the last twenty-odd years to convince me you’re not secretly sacrificing virgins in the dungeons. I’d vouch for you if you’d sent a damned owl once in awhile.”
“And fight through your thick-headedness to find reason? No, thank you.”
Harry shakes his head. “Stubborn bastard,” he mutters. He looks at Dresden and Bob. “I’ll lead the way for Severus if you two need to have some prep time.”
“Yes, please, and thank you,” Bob says graciously. “If you’d provide us with a list of ingredients, we’d be happy to lay out what you need.”
Snape quickly scrawls a list on a piece of scrap paper and hands it to Dresden. “I trust you have fresh ingredients?”
“Got a whole window of growing plants,” Dresden assures him. “How long before you’ll be by?”
“An hour. I must gather some necessary items.”
“All right. See you in an hour.” Dresden picks up Bob’s skull, tucks it into his bag, and shakes Harry’s hand. “Don’t kill him before you get to my place. He looks like a man with a plan.”
“Do my best,” Harry agrees with a grin.
Dresden leads the way out of the office, Bob almost on his heels. He pauses in the main part of the store. “Did you pick out a book?”
Bob sighs. “Now is not-”
“I promised you a book.”
Bob shakes his head and steps in front of Dresden. “Afterwards, Harry. There are more important things than books.”
“I’d ask if you took a blow to the head, but I know the answer,” Dresden says as he opens the door to the shop. He grimaces when the bell gives an electronic wheeze. “Stupid technology,” he mutters as he walks to the Jeep.
*
“This is rather noble of you,” Harry says to Severus when they’re alone.
Severus places the book he needs into a satchel and opens his bottom desk drawer to pull out his wand and a cauldron. “Bob has been in and around magic since the middle ages. His knowledge, while useful, would be even more useful if he wrote it down.”
Harry grins. “You know Bob and Dresden have a thing, right?”
“I know,” Severus says, exasperation edging his tone, “that Hrothbert of Bainbridge was one of the leading wizards of his day. Had he not fallen into the idiocy that only love provides, he might have pushed magic forward by centuries.”
“Stupid love,” Harry agrees. He picks up the satchel after Severus closes it and slides it onto his shoulder. “How do you know all this about him, anyway? I don’t remember any Hrothbert of Bainbridge.”
“You routinely slept through History of Magic,” Severus points out.
Harry follows Severus out of his office and walks close enough to Severus so he can feel the sleeve of his shirt against his arm. “How are we getting over there?”
“The train should be adequate,” Severus says. He stops at the counter. “Miss Johns, I shall be gone the rest of the day. Leave a copy of the deposit slip on my desk, and do not try to rearrange my books.”
“Yes, Mr. Snape.”
“Nice to meet you,” Harry says with a wave as he follows Severus out the day. “The train? Really?”
“I have disguised myself as a Muggle for a few years, Harry. I do know how to read a train schedule.”
“The train, then.”
*
“Guests coming over, and the lab looks like this.”
“The lab always looks like this,” Dresden says as he clears the table haphazardly and starts checking the list of ingredients. “Wait,” he says after a moment.
“Yes, Harry?” Bob asks, sounding slightly concerned.
“I know these ingredients.”
Bob scoffs. “I would hope so. I’ve only been attempting to teach them to you for a handful of decades.”
Dresden waves a hand at Bob. “That’s not what I mean. These are…” he trails off and eyes his bookshelf. He puts down the list and walks across the room, taking down a green book.
“We’ve not the time, Harry,” Bob says with annoyance. “They’ll be here any moment, and you’re researching for information you do not require rather than cleaning potion dribblings from-”
“Bob,” Dresden says in a tone that stops Bob from finishing his insult, “is this a corporeal potion?”
“It is an attempt,” Bob admits.
“I thought we tried-”
“Mr. Snape is a Potions Master, Harry. While my knowledge is useful and varied, he has spent his entire life concentrated on potions as a discipline.”
“He’s got more books than us,” Dresden supplies.
Bob smiles. “Close enough.”
Dresden shelves his book and goes back to the ingredients list. He walks out of the lab to grab fresh herbs from the windowsill. “Can it work?” He calls from the front room.
Bob says nothing until Dresden comes back in and sets down the plants. “It has as much chance as our other attempts.”
“Odds aren’t great, then.”
“Mr. Snape is an accomplished brewer,” Bob can’t quite keep the hope out of his voice. “And he is using a potion we’ve not tried, but we cannot ignore the failures that we’ve met in this venture.”
Dresden grins a little. “You know you get really polite-sounding when you get nervous?”
“I cannot be nervous, Harry.”
“Sure,” Dresden says and chuckles. “Whatever you have to tell yourself, Bob.”
“Harry,” Bob says as Dresden moves to run back into the kitchen, “if it doesn’t work-”
“Is this gonna end with you telling me to find a nice girl?”
Bob pauses. “Slightly un-nice would be preferred. I do like a good show.”
Dresden shakes his head. “We’ll negotiate after we see if this fails.”
“Insulting, Mr. Dresden,” Snape says as he and Harry walk into the lab. He raises an eyebrow when Dresden jumps and curses. “And you owe me a doorbell.”
“I’ll put you on the list,” Dresden says drily.
Harry puts down Snape’s satchel and pulls out the cauldron. “I don’t know where you want this.”
Snape takes the cauldron. “I need to set up,” he says to Dresden.
“I’ll make tea,” Dresden says. He pauses in the door of the lab. “Talk to Bob before you move anything.” He smirks when Snape pauses for a moment.
“Of course, Mr. Dresden,” Snape’s tone is complete annoyance.
Dresden catches a grin from Harry as he leaves the lab and listens to Harry and Snape move around and talk to one another and Bob. He fills the kettle and grabs mugs. He’s putting everything on a tray when he hears a crash.
“It’s fine!” Bob calls before Dresden can run into the room. “I told you to put away your empty bowls.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dresden grouses. He touches a finger to the kettle. It’s still cool, and he eyes the flame. “Just a little,” he mutters and concentrates. “Shit!” he yells when the flame jumps to encompass the kettle.
Harry comes running from the lab; Bob comes through the wall. “Of course,” Bob says with a shake of his head.
“Profusm aqua,” Harry says, and a cascade of water comes out of his wand, dousing the fire. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Dresden says, picking up the wet kettle. He checks the water. “Well, it’s warm.”
“Oh, for the love of-” Bob says and fades back into the wall.
Harry and Dresden share a grin. “That happens a lot, doesn’t it?”
Dresden puts the kettle on the tray. “I get hyped-up, things catch fire sometimes.”
Harry touches the tip of his wand to the kettle and mumbles more Latin. “Severus is very good at what he does,” he says more to the kettle than Dresden. “I hope it works.”
“Thanks,” Dresden responds. “You two iron things out?”
“Not even close,” Harry tells him, but he’s smiling. “We never really do.”
“You two are weird.”
“Come on,” Harry says, levitating the tray, “we can watch Severus make Bob corporeal.”
It’s an excellent comeback, and Dresden laughs as he follows Harry and his floating tea tray back into the lab. “Fire’s averted, and tea’s served,” he announces.
“Your control needs work,” Snape says as he measures ingredients.
“You’re welcome,” Dresden deadpans.
“He’s right,” Bob adds.
Dresden rolls his eyes and pours himself a cup of tea. “I’ve heard this before.”
“And you never listen.” Bob’s voice is warm, and he smiles when Dresden looks at him over the rim of his mug.
Behind them, Snape rolls his eyes and nods when Harry puts a mug of tea next to his cauldron. “Impossible,” he mutters so only Harry can hear.
“Yeah,” Harry agrees, peering into the cauldron as Severus pours in ingredients. “Love is just icky, right?”
“You’re a fool,” Severus says.
“You haven’t told me to leave.”
“Do not think I’m not considering it.”
Harry laughs. “I’ve missed you.” Severus doesn’t say anything, but Harry catches a slight upward turn at the edges of his mouth. “What can I do?”
“Back away.”
“Keep a radius,” Harry says to Dresden and Bob. “He’ll hex you away if he feels it’s necessary.”
“How long is this potion going to take?” Dresden asks, eyeing the way Snape is taking propriety with his table.
“Half an hour to reach boiling point, two hours simmering, and then an hour to settle.” Snape says without looking up.
Dresden takes a sip of his tea. “Anyone up for Monopoly?”
*
“Wow,” Dresden says an hour later as he hands Harry the last of his Monopoly money. “How did you do that?”
“There are a lot of hours to burn when you’re in a safe house and waiting to raid a gang of Death Eaters,” Harry says as Dresden starts to dismantle the board. “And the less magic used the better. I’m pretty good at Scrabble, too.”
“Latin counts?”
“The way I play,” Harry grins. He looks around Dresden’s living room. “Where’d Bob go?”
Dresden nods towards Bob’s skull. “He paces if he’s out, and he thinks it’s undignified.”
“I’m surprised you’re not pacing,” Harry admits.
“I’m used to waiting for the impossible to happen,” Dresden says with a shrug. “Getting wound up is just gonna make the wait worse.”
Harry squints at him. “You’re dying a little on the inside, aren’t you?”
Dresden looks at Bob’s skull. “Rationally, I should accept that the chances of this actually happening are pretty slim.”
“Rationally, I should have taken the hint and left Severus to play shop keep until he died a lonely and bitter old man.”
“I get the feeling he’s not going to be any less bitter.”
“No,” Harry says with a smile, “he’s not.”
“And you’re really okay with that?”
“I get away with a lot,” Harry says after a moment. “I saved the whole of the wizarding world at the age of one. I did it again at seventeen. I could rob every shop in Diagon Alley, and I’d probably be congratulated for my cunning.” He glances behind him at the hallway. “There are exactly three people who won’t let me slide. Two of them have been my best mates since I was eleven.”
Dresden points down the hall. “And number three.”
“Yes,” Harry says. “There’s more to it than that, but that’s the basis.”
“Well, that and whiskey.”
“That and whiskey,” Harry agrees with a chuckle.
*
As the potion begins to settle, Bob drifts into the lab. He stands across the room from Snape and watches him watch the potion. “I do not doubt your ability to brew, Mr. Snape-”
“Professor,” Snape interrupts.
Bob rolls his eyes. “Must I?”
“If you’d prefer not to have this conversation-”
“Fine. Professor. I do not doubt your ability, but I do question the actual chances of this working.”
“If you trusted my ability,” Snape says blandly, “you would not question the chances.”
“Of course,” Bob says derisively. “How foolish to be suspect.”
“How do you know of me?” Snape asks as he steps away from the cauldron. He wipes his hands on a towel and inspects the edges of his sleeves for spatter. “Harry mentioned that you knew my name and position at Hogwarts.”
“Justin Morningway took great interest in Voldemort in the early days of his ownership of me. He considered traveling to England to present my skull to Voldemort himself.”
“He searched for you,” Snape tells him. “He had me search as well.”
“And you failed?”
“Your skull has travelled many places. The trail gets murky sometime in the late 1800s.”
Bob considers pointing out that Snape hasn’t admitted he’d failed. “Were there not enough wizards in Voldemort’s employee to keep him entertained with torture and boils?”
“You were a necromancer,” Snape says. “We never could get anyone back from the dead, and you managed it. More than once.”
“I believe that skill shifted to the American wizards after the power split,” Bob tells Snape, thinking back to Dresden’s misstep with Kelton Franks. “And I can’t say I’m not grateful that we’ve got it and your lot do not. American wizards have never been quite as quick to try and destroy their neighbors.”
Snape snorts. “Give them a few more hundred years.”
Bob can’t help his smirk. “Perhaps.” He watches as Snape rounds the room to check the potion. “If this works,” he starts, and his smirk deepens at Snape’s disapproving look, “what would happen to my curse?”
“I cannot change the curse,” Snape admits, then smirks. “Actually, I could, but I’d rather not have your High Council and the British Ministry fighting over who would take my head, so the curse stays.”
“Understood,” Bob says, moving to press a hand against his own throat. “My proximity issue stays an issue, then?”
“I might be able to work on it. But this is not the potion for that.”
“One step at a time, then.”
“Precisely.”
Bob nods. “Very well, then.” He walks over to the cauldron and looks in. “I believe I shall remove myself from your workspace. I want to speak to Harry-my Harry-before we try this.”
“It will work,” Snape says as Bob starts to fade into the wall.
Bob doesn’t respond, just finishes phasing and walks down the hall to where Dresden and Harry are playing a game of checkers. “Score?” He asks, leaning over to look at the board.
“One to one,” Dresden tells him. “Except,” he moves one piece and takes six of Harry’s. “King me!”
“Damnit,” Harry says, and kings Dresden. He eyes the board and throws up his hands. “I’m in a corner.”
“On all sides,” Dresden says with the glee of the decided winner.
“I’m getting a fresh cuppa,” Harry stands and grabs his mug from the table. “My pride needs the drink.”
“There’s booze in the cupboard above the stove,” Dresden offers.
“Tea’s fine,” Harry says, but opens the cupboard to survey. “Nice.”
“Harry,” Bob slides into the conversation and points at Dresden when Harry looks over. “This one.”
“I figured,” Harry tells him. “But a name’s a name.”
“I understand.” Bob looks at Dresden. “I wish to speak with you privately for a moment.”
Dresden looks around. “Normally I’d say the lab, but as I figure we can’t get Snape away from it without an explosion-”
“If that,” Harry confirms.
“We could go upstairs,” Dresden offers. “Harry can throw on some music, and it’ll drown us out pretty well.”
“That will be fine,” Bob agrees.
“Where’s the stereo?” Harry asks.
“Tape deck’s over there,” Dresden says, pointing. He catches Harry’s confused look. “You know how I killed the bell at the bookstore?”
“Yeah.”
“Three nice stereos before I gave up.”
“Gotcha,” Harry says and walks to the tape deck.
Bob walks next to Dresden as they move towards the stairs, and he smiles when Dresden raises his eyebrows once they’re alone and there’s something with heavy guitar playing in the background. “What’s up?”
“You cannot be this calm about everything,” Bob says knowingly.
“Not even close,” Harry admits and sits down on the bed. He rubs his hands over his face and looks at Bob from between his fingers. “Harry thinks it’ll work.”
“Harry is biased.”
“I’ve gotten a couple of stories. From what I’ve been told-and, yes, I left room for exaggeration-Snape could pull this off without a problem.”
“We’ve said that ourselves a few times,” Bob reminds him gently.
“I haven’t spent my life devoted to the study of potions,” Harry says in a bad British accent.
“I’ve spoken with Mr. Snape about the parameters of the potion,” Bob says, deciding to ignore Harry’s terrible acting. “And the state of my being will not affect the proximity issue with my skull.”
“Okay…?” Harr looks confused. “I’m not creeped out by your skull, you know.”
Bob does know but there is, as he’s told Harry many times, a difference between knowing and knowing. “We could get it its own pillow.”
“Right after we buy you that book,” Dresden promises, grinning. He glances at the clock on his bedside table. “How much longer until our hopes are possibly dashed?”
“Twenty-seven minutes,” Bob answers without having to think.
Dresden stands up from the bed and stretches his arms. “Not enough time for Scrabble.”
Bob grins. “Hangman?”
*
“We can begin now,” Snape says from the door of the lab.
Dresden and Bob both start at his voice. Harry remains seated. “You sure?”
“Now is not the time,” Snape says, a pointed look aimed at Harry.
“Just want you to be sure,” Harry responds, grinning at Snape’s look.
“You two are weird,” Dresden says without thinking. Snape’s glare is almost enough to make him squirm. “You gonna say you’re not?”
“I shall hold comments until your ghost is corporeal.”
Dresden glances at Bob. “Think he practices those lines when he’s stirring?”
Bob looks exasperated. “Really, Harry.” He smiles without meaning to, a giddy, shaky turn of his mouth that makes his eyes light up. “If it doesn’t-”
“We’ll be all right,” Dresden says. He waves a hand down the hallway. “Come on. We can’t find out if we’re gonna be sad if you don’t get in there.”
“Very well,” Bob walks forward, fading into the wall, leaving Dresden and Harry alone for a moment.
“Scared?” Harry asks, hand clapping Dresden’s shoulder.
“I can deal if it doesn’t work,” Dresden tells him. “Been dealing with that for years. But Bob, he got to come back once. For a lot of bad reasons tied to a really bad guy, and then he sacrificed it to save me and you and the whole world, probably. If this doesn’t work-”
“I have faith in Severus,” Harry says quietly. “And he’s more than enough faith in himself. Just think about Bob.”
“Do that more than he knows already,” Dresden replies, and the smile he gives Harry is slightly sickly. “Can’t help but hope.”
“That’s a feeling I know well.” Harry grasps Dresden’s elbow and gives a small tug. “The show won’t start until Severus has a full audience.”
“Let’s go,” Dresden says, and walks down the hall.
Bob is standing in the summoning circle, arms at his sides and his shoulders back. Snape is carefully measuring the potion into a beaker and as Dresden and Harry walk into the room, he walks around the circle and coats it with the potion. “That has to sit for precisely two minutes,” Snape says.
No one says anything in the two minutes. Dresden looks at Bob and tries to smile. Bob breathes deep and tries to smile in return. Hope, Dresden thinks, and looks at Harry. Harry is watching Snape work, smiling and seemingly unaware of the rest of the room. Dresden squeezes Harry’s shoulder and makes himself breathe evenly. He’s always had hope, he figures. Doesn’t hurt to use a little extra now.
Snape levitates the cauldron with his wand. He sends it across the room in a graceful arc that ends when he upends the cauldron directly over Bob’s head.
Dresden bursts out laughing. The potion is coating Bob, mostly on the top of his head, but there are slow rivulets deposited on his shoulders. Dresden’s laughter stops. “Bob,” he says, his voice scratching out into a harsh whisper. “Bob, it’s dripping.”
“I can see that, Harry,” Bob says with mild derision. He lifts his arm to inspect the grayish-red drops on his cuffs.
“No,” Dresden says and walks towards the circle. He stops right at the edge, toes half and inch from the line and looks at Snape. Snape nods. Dresden steps into the circle. He touches the potion on Bob’s shoulder and then, his smile wide, wipes potion down the bridge of Bob’s nose. “It’s dripping. On you.”
“It…” Bob stares at himself, at the spatters on his jacket and shoes. He looks at Harry, eyes wide. “It’s dripping.”
“There you go,” Dresden says and catches Bob under the arms as he nearly collapses. “Bob!”
“Surprise, Harry. Merely surprise. And delight. And perhaps a bit of giddiness.” Bob looks at Harry, feels Harry’s breath, and presses his face against Harry’s shirt. “Hello, Harry,” he says quietly.
“Hey, Bob,” Dresden responds just as quietly. He maneuvers them until they’re sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, Bob somewhat awkwardly draped on his lap. Dresden closes his eyes, drops his nose into Bob’s hair, and breathes deep. “You smell like cloves,” he tells Bob.
“You smell like sweat,” Bob says, and his tone is nearly rapturous.
Dresden opens his eyes, expecting to find Snape and Harry still in the room, watching to make sure the potion has actually taken hold. They’re gone, but Morgan is there, working into a rather impressive seethe, and he bares his teeth when Dresden grins at him. “Hey, Morgan. So glad you don't stand on ceremony and wait for an invitation. This creepy appearing out of thin air works so much better for you. But gimmie five, okay?” He requests. “Gotta get Bob out of these wet clothes.”
“Dresden-”
“Five minutes,” Dresden makes himself sound completely serious. “There should be a couple of guys in my front room who can answer some questions.”
“They’d best,” Morgan snarls and turns on his heel.
“He and Snape should compare notes,” Dresden says to Bob.
Bob smiles and begins to stand. “They can do it while I change.” He reaches out a hand to Harry. “I trust you have something I can wear.”
Dresden clasps Bob’s wrist and hauls himself off the ground. “You’re gonna have to do without an ascot until we can go shopping.”
“I shall adjust,” Bob says, still smiling. He lets go of Dresden’s hand slowly and follows him past a glaring Morgan and Snape and a grinning Harry and into the loft. He watches Dresden pull out flannel pants and a Henley shirt and smiles when Dresden holds them out. “Thank you, Harry.”
“I’ll just…” Dresden trails off and turns around. “Not that I’m against-” Dresden is drowned out by the sudden booming voice of Morgan demanding to know “what in five hells” Snape had been thinking. “We could stay up here,” Dresden offers. “You. Me. The bed.”
Bob chuckles. “Tempting, but I feel we should show at least moderate support to those who helped us reach the point where we could stay up here. In bed.”
Dresden rolls his shoulders to keep from shuddering at Bob saying ‘in bed’. “Play fair,” he demands.
“I shall try. You may turn around, Harry.” Bob wiggles his toes and holds out his arms as he looks down at himself. “Not quite as elegant, but certainly comfortable.”
Dresden steps forward and presses his hand against Bob’s chest. “You look good.”
“I feel good.”
“Dresden!” Morgan’s voice thunders. “Get down here, or so help me-”
“Geez, Morgan, calm down!” Dresden says as he slides around Bob and clatters down the stairs. “What’s got you all twisted up?”
Morgan glares at Dresden and points at Bob, who is making his way down the stairs more gracefully. “That.” He rotates his arm to point a finger at Harry and Snape. “And them.”
“Harry Potter, Severus Snape,” Dresden says with a grin, “this is Morgan. He’s with High Council. We’re not close.” Dresden just manages not to take a step back when Morgan heaves a breath in his face. “What’s the big deal?” He snaps, humor gone from his voice. “So Bob can do the dishes now. I don’t see that as a bad thing.”
“I have already explained,” Snape cuts in with derision practically flowing from his voice, “that Bob is still within the bounds of his curse.”
“Except that he can touch things,” Morgan grinds out. “And what’s to stop him from touching his skull and deciding to take a waltz out the door?”
“How about the little glass tracking device?” Dresden asks. He raises his eyebrows when Morgan deflates slightly. “Oh, I see.” He looks over his shoulder at Bob. “You know they’ve got a homing beacon for your skull, right?”
“Dresden!” Morgan practically roars.
“Morgan,” Bob says calmly, “I am not concerned with any escape plans. I am quite happy where I am. And, if you do, indeed, have some sort of tracking device-”
“They do,” Dresden interrupts.
“What is the harm of being able to assist Harry more readily in his pursuits as a wizard? There are many things I can teach him now that I am able to demonstrate proper technique rather than describe it.”
“Dark things?” Morgan says archly.
“Well, certainly,” Bob says, his tone doing a fair impression of Snape’s from a few moments before. “But I could also work with him on his control. That is, of course, if you’re interested in seeing fewer fires on the Chicago skyline.”
Morgan narrows his eyes. He looks from Bob to Dresden. He turns and looks at Snape and Harry. “You two-”
“Here legally,” Harry cuts in. “Have a stamp on my passport to prove it.”
“You did not register your visit with High Council.” Morgan sneers at Snape. “And we’ve no record of your entrance, either. You know you must register with the High Council if you wish to enter the country.”
“A formality wrapped in an annoyance,” Snape declares. “Invented simply so the undesirables can be shooed away.”
Morgan’s glare intensifies. Snape stares back blandly. “You will come into the Chicago office and register-both of you-in the next two days, or I’ll hunt you down and boot you back across the ocean myself.” And then he’s gone, leaving Snape and Harry to stare at Dresden and Bob.
“If a wizard Apparates without making a sound, is it still an Apparation?” Harry asks.
“I don’t find he’s ever in the right mood to ask,” Dresden tells him.
“Were his temperament not quite so…elevated, he could have been interesting,” Snape says. He gives Bob a once-over. “It worked,” he says simply.
“Very well,” Bob says, smiling. “Thank you.”
“You have knowledge that is useful. It should not be wasted because you cannot touch an herb or strengthen a rune.”
Bob blinks. “Are you saying-”
“Magic carries in the soul but requires a vessel,” Snape interrupts. “You have both in one place now.”
Dresden looks at Bob. “Wait. He’s saying-” Dresden’s cut off when Bob holds out a hand and sends a small, white ball of energy bouncing through the air to sink into the runes carved into the post.
“Yes,” Bob says quietly. He gives Snape a small nod. “My greatest thanks.”
Snape nods in return. “You are not mortal, but your body should basically function in the same manner. If you find yourself having issues, you know where I can be reached.” He looks at Harry. “I need to fetch my cauldron.” He steps around Dresden and Bob and walks towards the lab.
“He’s very pleased,” Harry says. “We’re glad it worked.”
“And you two?” Dresden asks before he can stop himself.
“I’ve found him. If he tries to shake me again, I most likely won’t be delirious with fever and arm rot, so he won’t get a three-week head start.”
“Well, if you need help again, you know where we are,” Dresden offers.
Harry beams. “Thank you.” His face brightens when Snape exits the lab, cauldron tucked into his satchel. “We’ll be off, then.”
There’s hand-shaking all around, and then Snape and Harry leave. Dresden drops the shade, locks the door, and turns to look at Bob. “So, how’s life?”
Bob steps forward and meets Harry in the middle of the room. “I wonder,” he says as he presses his hand to Harry’s chest, “if I can eat food again.”
Harry laughs. “Bodies can eat, last I checked. Name it. It’s yours.” He touches Bob’s cheek, his ear, runs his hand through Bob’s hair.
“Pizza,” Bob says. “With all the noise you make over it, I am intrigued.”
“You’ll love it,” Harry insists. He leans in and kisses Bob on the mouth. Bob jumps a little. Harry pulls away. “I-”
“No,” Bob says. “I was expecting you to fall through.” He leans in and kisses Harry, smiling when Harry kisses him in return. “Harry,” he says quietly.
“Bob,” Harry whispers. “You have-”
“Oh, I do,” Bob insists. He pulls out of the kiss and smiles when Harry tries to follow. “Or we could go upstairs and order in later.”
“Yes,” Harry says immediately. “Option B, right now.”
“I suppose,” Bob drawls. “If you’re certain.”
Harry doesn’t bother to respond. He grabs Bob by the hand and tugs.
*
Dresden wakes up the next morning to the phone ringing. He grumbles as he rolls out of bed and pads down the stairs, stopping short of the sight of Bob holding the phone. Bob’s wearing the flannel pants from the night before and one of Dresden’s less ratty T-shirts. He smiles when he meets Dresden’s eye.
“That will be fine. We’ll see you in a few hours. Goodbye.” Bob hangs up the phone and smiles at Dresden. “Good morning, Harry.”
“Morning,” Dresden says and feels the grin slide across his face. “Look at you.” He steps forward and slides a hand under the T-shirt. “You’re still here.”
“Where else would I be?” Bob smiles and presses his palm to Dresden’s bicep. “That was the other Harry. He said he has a business proposition for you. He will be here at one.”
Dresden glances at the clock. “Plenty of time for breakfast.”
“Breakfast,” Bob murmurs. “Tell me you have eggs.”
“I have eggs,” Dresden promises.
*
“You’re an idiot,” Snape says when Harry hangs up the phone.
“I could help you around the shop,” Harry offers and grins when Severus scowls. “I bet Charlotte and I would get along-”
“Shut up,” Severus cuts in. He stands from the table and carries his plate to the sink. “There’s an herbalist halfway down the block. Can you recall the ingredients for a protection potion?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry says and finishes his tea. He walks up behind Severus and rinses out his mug, resting his chin on Severus’s shoulder as he does so. “How strong do you want it?”
“For two men named Harry, one of whom is a pyromaniac? There is not enough Mugwort in the world.”
*
Dresden’s doing dishes and listening to Bob gleefully rearranging things in the lab when Harry walks in the door, a scent carrying with him.. “You carrying Mugwort?” He asks in greeting.
Harry grins. “Amongst other things.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a stoppered vial. “From Severus. It’s a protection potion.”
Dresden takes the potion gingerly between his thumb and forefinger. “Why, exactly, would he be sending one for me?”
“Because I’m here to apply for a job,” Harry tells him. He grins when Dresden looks confused. “Severus is the bookish, nerdy type. I’m not. I could pretend like I want to help around his shop, but I’d rather jab my wand in my eye. I was hoping you needed some help around here.”
“I spend most of my time convincing people I’m not a crackpot,” Dresden says. “And those aren’t paid consultations.”
“I have money,” Harry responds. “I just…” he breathes deep and looks slightly sheepish. “I saved the wizarding world when I was one. I did it at again at seventeen. I faced down a two-faced Death Eater at eleven. A demonic journal at twelve, and the list gets weirder from there. I ran around tracking down Death Eaters for six years while convincing the most stubborn, surly bastard in the world to love me, and then I got to find him again.”
“You’re the hero,” Dresden says with a grin.
“Can’t shake it off,” Harry says with a shrug. “How about you?”
“I’m atoning,” Dresden admits. “With a side of really soft heart.”
“Want to try and save the world?”
Dresden holds out his hand. “Why the hell not?”
Harry shakes.
*
Dresden and Harry pretend not to whimper as Snape and Bob patch them up. “I told you it wasn’t him,” Snape says to Harry.
“The description was close,” Harry argues. “And I know he’s been trying to get in touch-”
“New rule,” Dresden interrupts, hissing as Bob tapes a bandage over a gash on his stomach. “Even if you know a werewolf, no assuming the werewolf knows you.”
“Deal,” Harry agrees.
Snape and Bob exchange a look. “3-to-1 were the odds, I believe,” Snape says.
Bob sighs. “It was a fool’s bet.”
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Dresden Files [TV]/Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Harry Dresden/Bob
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry [Potter] shows up at the office of Harry [Dresden] looking for Severus Snape. And then the plot took a long walk [as usually happens in my writing], and this becomes about four guys, two relationships, and trying to make things as right as they can be in the weird world of men named Harry [one of whom is kind of a pyromaniac].
Disclaimer: So many lies. So many.
Author's Notes: This is TV-verse "Dresden Files", and AU "Harry Potter" [I ignored large parts of book seven to pull this off]. I cannot be thankful enough for the hard work of leaper182 and shoshannagold who did the beta work on this. This story would not be nearly as good without their help. Thank you two so much. You're awesome.
PART ONE
Harry, Harry, Snape, and Bob [2/2]
By Perpetual Motion
“They are complete idiots,” Severus says to Bob as he searches the books in his office for the right title.
“I’ve been saying that for centuries,” Bob agrees.
“That they would imprison you to your skull for dark magic, I can understand at the semi-intelligent level they use for such decisions, but to allow you to play assistant and not make you corporeal to any degree is negligent.”
Bob points to the top right shelf, at a brown book with white letters on the binding. “Would that be it?”
Severus looks up. “Yes. I will have to speak to Miss Johns again about her need to rearrange my shelves. If she would simply listen-”
“How do you organize normally?” Bob asks as he moves closer to the shelves for a better look.
“By necessity. Miss Johns is a Library Sciences student and insists that my organization makes her,” Severus scowls, “twitchy.”
“You could ward your books.”
“And then be forced to explain to her why touching one made her hands burn.”
“Point,” Bob concedes. He watches Severus flip through the brown book. “I am fully accustomed to working within my boundaries,” Bob says quietly. “There is no need-”
“How much more useful could you be if you could mix the potions while your,” Snape waves a hand in a gesture that looks like it’s meant to be derisive, “companion makes the phone calls and files the paperwork?”
“Very, I suppose. Harry’s potions are adequate, but are sometimes a bit thin.” Bob meets Snape’s lowered eyebrows with a pointed look. “I attempted to teach him. Repeatedly. He chooses when to listen.”
“How terribly familiar that sounds,” Snape says with a shake of his head. “Perhaps it’s something to do with the name.”
Bob chuckles. “Perhaps.” He watches Snape pull another book from the shelf. “But really, this is unnecessary.”
“It’s not.”
There’s something in Snape’s tone, an underscore nearly hidden, that makes Bob stand a little straighter. “You owe me no penance,” he says after a moment.
“I made my decisions,” Snape says sharply. “And my penance is paid in full.”
“So this is?” Bob waves a hand to encompass the books Snape is methodically searching.
“Because if I do not try now, Harry will feel it necessary to show his thanks to you by harassing me for days, if not weeks.”
“Does that mean you’ll allow him-”
“If I do not, he’ll find me again.” Snape tries to sound exhausted by the idea, but it doesn’t quite carry. “And again and again.”
“You could tell him to leave.”
“Would it work with yours?”
Bob smirks. “Of course not.”
“And it really is a simple matter of finding the proper potion.”
“We’ve done research,” Bob says. “Many times.”
“But not with my resources,” Snape snaps, changing books again. “Whatever talents you had while alive are long out of practice.”
“I do remember how to research,” Bob throws back. “It is nearly all I do.”
“That and create doom boxes,” Snape replies.
Bob smiles a little. “You felt that?”
“I am fairly certain they felt it in Milwaukee.”
“Hmmm,” Bob mummers. “That was unintentional but necessary.”
“Tell me,” Snape says, “what does it take to create a doom box?”
“A few hundred years of no sleep,” Bob replies. “You’ve tried it?”
“Numerous times in the past, yes,” Snape admits. “Voldemort needed contingency plans, and a great deal of power wrapped into a small box is a very useful plan.”
“If you can make it work,” Bob says and precisely adjusts his cuffs.
“Yes. Bravo,” Snape drawls.
Bob smirks and watches Snape change books again. “Why?” He asks after a few moments.
“Why, what?” Snape asks without looking up.
“Voldemort.”
Snape looks up from the book, face bland. “Power.”
“That’s it?”
“What else is there?”
Bob raises his eyebrows. “Love, for one.”
“We are not all romantics, Bob. Some of us merely exist.”
“Is that why you ran from Mr. Potter?”
Snape places his current book onto the shelf and crosses his arms. “How this is your business-”
“It’s not. Except that, perhaps, there is some wallowing to be shared.”
“I do not wallow.”
“You merely exist,” Bob replies, no emotion in his tone.
Snape reaches for a new book. “Yes.”
Before Bob can call him out, the electronic bell over the door of the shop gives out half its tone and dies with a sudden screech. “I do believe the gentlemen have returned. And you’ll be in need of a new bell.”
“American wizards,” Snape mutters, and it’s as far as he gets before his office door opens.
“No one’s dead,” Dresden says, and then grins at Bob. “Well, more dead.”
“So very clever,” Bob responds with a roll of his eyes.
“I have it,” Snape cuts in, holding up a book. He glances at Harry. “It is too much to hope that you’re carrying any passable potion ingredients, I assume.”
“And hello to you, too,” Harry says. “I was a bit more concerned of not being held up in Customs.”
“I’ve got a full cupboard,” Dresden offers. He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Wait. What’s going on here?”
“I’ll tell you if it works, Harry,” Bob says before Snape can try to fill him in. “Otherwise the information will only bring false hope.”
Dresden squints at Bob. “Tell me it’s not dark magic.”
“It’s not,” Snape says peevishly.
“Neat,” Dresden responds. “But I want to hear it from Bob.”
“It is not dark magic, Harry, and you should be ashamed for assuming.”
“Hey, I know you. I trust you. Him,” Dresden points at Snape, “I’m still not sure about.”
“Flattering,” Snape looks straight at Harry.
Harry gives a bark of a laugh. “Oh, yeah, like you’ve done so much in the last twenty-odd years to convince me you’re not secretly sacrificing virgins in the dungeons. I’d vouch for you if you’d sent a damned owl once in awhile.”
“And fight through your thick-headedness to find reason? No, thank you.”
Harry shakes his head. “Stubborn bastard,” he mutters. He looks at Dresden and Bob. “I’ll lead the way for Severus if you two need to have some prep time.”
“Yes, please, and thank you,” Bob says graciously. “If you’d provide us with a list of ingredients, we’d be happy to lay out what you need.”
Snape quickly scrawls a list on a piece of scrap paper and hands it to Dresden. “I trust you have fresh ingredients?”
“Got a whole window of growing plants,” Dresden assures him. “How long before you’ll be by?”
“An hour. I must gather some necessary items.”
“All right. See you in an hour.” Dresden picks up Bob’s skull, tucks it into his bag, and shakes Harry’s hand. “Don’t kill him before you get to my place. He looks like a man with a plan.”
“Do my best,” Harry agrees with a grin.
Dresden leads the way out of the office, Bob almost on his heels. He pauses in the main part of the store. “Did you pick out a book?”
Bob sighs. “Now is not-”
“I promised you a book.”
Bob shakes his head and steps in front of Dresden. “Afterwards, Harry. There are more important things than books.”
“I’d ask if you took a blow to the head, but I know the answer,” Dresden says as he opens the door to the shop. He grimaces when the bell gives an electronic wheeze. “Stupid technology,” he mutters as he walks to the Jeep.
*
“This is rather noble of you,” Harry says to Severus when they’re alone.
Severus places the book he needs into a satchel and opens his bottom desk drawer to pull out his wand and a cauldron. “Bob has been in and around magic since the middle ages. His knowledge, while useful, would be even more useful if he wrote it down.”
Harry grins. “You know Bob and Dresden have a thing, right?”
“I know,” Severus says, exasperation edging his tone, “that Hrothbert of Bainbridge was one of the leading wizards of his day. Had he not fallen into the idiocy that only love provides, he might have pushed magic forward by centuries.”
“Stupid love,” Harry agrees. He picks up the satchel after Severus closes it and slides it onto his shoulder. “How do you know all this about him, anyway? I don’t remember any Hrothbert of Bainbridge.”
“You routinely slept through History of Magic,” Severus points out.
Harry follows Severus out of his office and walks close enough to Severus so he can feel the sleeve of his shirt against his arm. “How are we getting over there?”
“The train should be adequate,” Severus says. He stops at the counter. “Miss Johns, I shall be gone the rest of the day. Leave a copy of the deposit slip on my desk, and do not try to rearrange my books.”
“Yes, Mr. Snape.”
“Nice to meet you,” Harry says with a wave as he follows Severus out the day. “The train? Really?”
“I have disguised myself as a Muggle for a few years, Harry. I do know how to read a train schedule.”
“The train, then.”
*
“Guests coming over, and the lab looks like this.”
“The lab always looks like this,” Dresden says as he clears the table haphazardly and starts checking the list of ingredients. “Wait,” he says after a moment.
“Yes, Harry?” Bob asks, sounding slightly concerned.
“I know these ingredients.”
Bob scoffs. “I would hope so. I’ve only been attempting to teach them to you for a handful of decades.”
Dresden waves a hand at Bob. “That’s not what I mean. These are…” he trails off and eyes his bookshelf. He puts down the list and walks across the room, taking down a green book.
“We’ve not the time, Harry,” Bob says with annoyance. “They’ll be here any moment, and you’re researching for information you do not require rather than cleaning potion dribblings from-”
“Bob,” Dresden says in a tone that stops Bob from finishing his insult, “is this a corporeal potion?”
“It is an attempt,” Bob admits.
“I thought we tried-”
“Mr. Snape is a Potions Master, Harry. While my knowledge is useful and varied, he has spent his entire life concentrated on potions as a discipline.”
“He’s got more books than us,” Dresden supplies.
Bob smiles. “Close enough.”
Dresden shelves his book and goes back to the ingredients list. He walks out of the lab to grab fresh herbs from the windowsill. “Can it work?” He calls from the front room.
Bob says nothing until Dresden comes back in and sets down the plants. “It has as much chance as our other attempts.”
“Odds aren’t great, then.”
“Mr. Snape is an accomplished brewer,” Bob can’t quite keep the hope out of his voice. “And he is using a potion we’ve not tried, but we cannot ignore the failures that we’ve met in this venture.”
Dresden grins a little. “You know you get really polite-sounding when you get nervous?”
“I cannot be nervous, Harry.”
“Sure,” Dresden says and chuckles. “Whatever you have to tell yourself, Bob.”
“Harry,” Bob says as Dresden moves to run back into the kitchen, “if it doesn’t work-”
“Is this gonna end with you telling me to find a nice girl?”
Bob pauses. “Slightly un-nice would be preferred. I do like a good show.”
Dresden shakes his head. “We’ll negotiate after we see if this fails.”
“Insulting, Mr. Dresden,” Snape says as he and Harry walk into the lab. He raises an eyebrow when Dresden jumps and curses. “And you owe me a doorbell.”
“I’ll put you on the list,” Dresden says drily.
Harry puts down Snape’s satchel and pulls out the cauldron. “I don’t know where you want this.”
Snape takes the cauldron. “I need to set up,” he says to Dresden.
“I’ll make tea,” Dresden says. He pauses in the door of the lab. “Talk to Bob before you move anything.” He smirks when Snape pauses for a moment.
“Of course, Mr. Dresden,” Snape’s tone is complete annoyance.
Dresden catches a grin from Harry as he leaves the lab and listens to Harry and Snape move around and talk to one another and Bob. He fills the kettle and grabs mugs. He’s putting everything on a tray when he hears a crash.
“It’s fine!” Bob calls before Dresden can run into the room. “I told you to put away your empty bowls.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dresden grouses. He touches a finger to the kettle. It’s still cool, and he eyes the flame. “Just a little,” he mutters and concentrates. “Shit!” he yells when the flame jumps to encompass the kettle.
Harry comes running from the lab; Bob comes through the wall. “Of course,” Bob says with a shake of his head.
“Profusm aqua,” Harry says, and a cascade of water comes out of his wand, dousing the fire. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Dresden says, picking up the wet kettle. He checks the water. “Well, it’s warm.”
“Oh, for the love of-” Bob says and fades back into the wall.
Harry and Dresden share a grin. “That happens a lot, doesn’t it?”
Dresden puts the kettle on the tray. “I get hyped-up, things catch fire sometimes.”
Harry touches the tip of his wand to the kettle and mumbles more Latin. “Severus is very good at what he does,” he says more to the kettle than Dresden. “I hope it works.”
“Thanks,” Dresden responds. “You two iron things out?”
“Not even close,” Harry tells him, but he’s smiling. “We never really do.”
“You two are weird.”
“Come on,” Harry says, levitating the tray, “we can watch Severus make Bob corporeal.”
It’s an excellent comeback, and Dresden laughs as he follows Harry and his floating tea tray back into the lab. “Fire’s averted, and tea’s served,” he announces.
“Your control needs work,” Snape says as he measures ingredients.
“You’re welcome,” Dresden deadpans.
“He’s right,” Bob adds.
Dresden rolls his eyes and pours himself a cup of tea. “I’ve heard this before.”
“And you never listen.” Bob’s voice is warm, and he smiles when Dresden looks at him over the rim of his mug.
Behind them, Snape rolls his eyes and nods when Harry puts a mug of tea next to his cauldron. “Impossible,” he mutters so only Harry can hear.
“Yeah,” Harry agrees, peering into the cauldron as Severus pours in ingredients. “Love is just icky, right?”
“You’re a fool,” Severus says.
“You haven’t told me to leave.”
“Do not think I’m not considering it.”
Harry laughs. “I’ve missed you.” Severus doesn’t say anything, but Harry catches a slight upward turn at the edges of his mouth. “What can I do?”
“Back away.”
“Keep a radius,” Harry says to Dresden and Bob. “He’ll hex you away if he feels it’s necessary.”
“How long is this potion going to take?” Dresden asks, eyeing the way Snape is taking propriety with his table.
“Half an hour to reach boiling point, two hours simmering, and then an hour to settle.” Snape says without looking up.
Dresden takes a sip of his tea. “Anyone up for Monopoly?”
*
“Wow,” Dresden says an hour later as he hands Harry the last of his Monopoly money. “How did you do that?”
“There are a lot of hours to burn when you’re in a safe house and waiting to raid a gang of Death Eaters,” Harry says as Dresden starts to dismantle the board. “And the less magic used the better. I’m pretty good at Scrabble, too.”
“Latin counts?”
“The way I play,” Harry grins. He looks around Dresden’s living room. “Where’d Bob go?”
Dresden nods towards Bob’s skull. “He paces if he’s out, and he thinks it’s undignified.”
“I’m surprised you’re not pacing,” Harry admits.
“I’m used to waiting for the impossible to happen,” Dresden says with a shrug. “Getting wound up is just gonna make the wait worse.”
Harry squints at him. “You’re dying a little on the inside, aren’t you?”
Dresden looks at Bob’s skull. “Rationally, I should accept that the chances of this actually happening are pretty slim.”
“Rationally, I should have taken the hint and left Severus to play shop keep until he died a lonely and bitter old man.”
“I get the feeling he’s not going to be any less bitter.”
“No,” Harry says with a smile, “he’s not.”
“And you’re really okay with that?”
“I get away with a lot,” Harry says after a moment. “I saved the whole of the wizarding world at the age of one. I did it again at seventeen. I could rob every shop in Diagon Alley, and I’d probably be congratulated for my cunning.” He glances behind him at the hallway. “There are exactly three people who won’t let me slide. Two of them have been my best mates since I was eleven.”
Dresden points down the hall. “And number three.”
“Yes,” Harry says. “There’s more to it than that, but that’s the basis.”
“Well, that and whiskey.”
“That and whiskey,” Harry agrees with a chuckle.
*
As the potion begins to settle, Bob drifts into the lab. He stands across the room from Snape and watches him watch the potion. “I do not doubt your ability to brew, Mr. Snape-”
“Professor,” Snape interrupts.
Bob rolls his eyes. “Must I?”
“If you’d prefer not to have this conversation-”
“Fine. Professor. I do not doubt your ability, but I do question the actual chances of this working.”
“If you trusted my ability,” Snape says blandly, “you would not question the chances.”
“Of course,” Bob says derisively. “How foolish to be suspect.”
“How do you know of me?” Snape asks as he steps away from the cauldron. He wipes his hands on a towel and inspects the edges of his sleeves for spatter. “Harry mentioned that you knew my name and position at Hogwarts.”
“Justin Morningway took great interest in Voldemort in the early days of his ownership of me. He considered traveling to England to present my skull to Voldemort himself.”
“He searched for you,” Snape tells him. “He had me search as well.”
“And you failed?”
“Your skull has travelled many places. The trail gets murky sometime in the late 1800s.”
Bob considers pointing out that Snape hasn’t admitted he’d failed. “Were there not enough wizards in Voldemort’s employee to keep him entertained with torture and boils?”
“You were a necromancer,” Snape says. “We never could get anyone back from the dead, and you managed it. More than once.”
“I believe that skill shifted to the American wizards after the power split,” Bob tells Snape, thinking back to Dresden’s misstep with Kelton Franks. “And I can’t say I’m not grateful that we’ve got it and your lot do not. American wizards have never been quite as quick to try and destroy their neighbors.”
Snape snorts. “Give them a few more hundred years.”
Bob can’t help his smirk. “Perhaps.” He watches as Snape rounds the room to check the potion. “If this works,” he starts, and his smirk deepens at Snape’s disapproving look, “what would happen to my curse?”
“I cannot change the curse,” Snape admits, then smirks. “Actually, I could, but I’d rather not have your High Council and the British Ministry fighting over who would take my head, so the curse stays.”
“Understood,” Bob says, moving to press a hand against his own throat. “My proximity issue stays an issue, then?”
“I might be able to work on it. But this is not the potion for that.”
“One step at a time, then.”
“Precisely.”
Bob nods. “Very well, then.” He walks over to the cauldron and looks in. “I believe I shall remove myself from your workspace. I want to speak to Harry-my Harry-before we try this.”
“It will work,” Snape says as Bob starts to fade into the wall.
Bob doesn’t respond, just finishes phasing and walks down the hall to where Dresden and Harry are playing a game of checkers. “Score?” He asks, leaning over to look at the board.
“One to one,” Dresden tells him. “Except,” he moves one piece and takes six of Harry’s. “King me!”
“Damnit,” Harry says, and kings Dresden. He eyes the board and throws up his hands. “I’m in a corner.”
“On all sides,” Dresden says with the glee of the decided winner.
“I’m getting a fresh cuppa,” Harry stands and grabs his mug from the table. “My pride needs the drink.”
“There’s booze in the cupboard above the stove,” Dresden offers.
“Tea’s fine,” Harry says, but opens the cupboard to survey. “Nice.”
“Harry,” Bob slides into the conversation and points at Dresden when Harry looks over. “This one.”
“I figured,” Harry tells him. “But a name’s a name.”
“I understand.” Bob looks at Dresden. “I wish to speak with you privately for a moment.”
Dresden looks around. “Normally I’d say the lab, but as I figure we can’t get Snape away from it without an explosion-”
“If that,” Harry confirms.
“We could go upstairs,” Dresden offers. “Harry can throw on some music, and it’ll drown us out pretty well.”
“That will be fine,” Bob agrees.
“Where’s the stereo?” Harry asks.
“Tape deck’s over there,” Dresden says, pointing. He catches Harry’s confused look. “You know how I killed the bell at the bookstore?”
“Yeah.”
“Three nice stereos before I gave up.”
“Gotcha,” Harry says and walks to the tape deck.
Bob walks next to Dresden as they move towards the stairs, and he smiles when Dresden raises his eyebrows once they’re alone and there’s something with heavy guitar playing in the background. “What’s up?”
“You cannot be this calm about everything,” Bob says knowingly.
“Not even close,” Harry admits and sits down on the bed. He rubs his hands over his face and looks at Bob from between his fingers. “Harry thinks it’ll work.”
“Harry is biased.”
“I’ve gotten a couple of stories. From what I’ve been told-and, yes, I left room for exaggeration-Snape could pull this off without a problem.”
“We’ve said that ourselves a few times,” Bob reminds him gently.
“I haven’t spent my life devoted to the study of potions,” Harry says in a bad British accent.
“I’ve spoken with Mr. Snape about the parameters of the potion,” Bob says, deciding to ignore Harry’s terrible acting. “And the state of my being will not affect the proximity issue with my skull.”
“Okay…?” Harr looks confused. “I’m not creeped out by your skull, you know.”
Bob does know but there is, as he’s told Harry many times, a difference between knowing and knowing. “We could get it its own pillow.”
“Right after we buy you that book,” Dresden promises, grinning. He glances at the clock on his bedside table. “How much longer until our hopes are possibly dashed?”
“Twenty-seven minutes,” Bob answers without having to think.
Dresden stands up from the bed and stretches his arms. “Not enough time for Scrabble.”
Bob grins. “Hangman?”
*
“We can begin now,” Snape says from the door of the lab.
Dresden and Bob both start at his voice. Harry remains seated. “You sure?”
“Now is not the time,” Snape says, a pointed look aimed at Harry.
“Just want you to be sure,” Harry responds, grinning at Snape’s look.
“You two are weird,” Dresden says without thinking. Snape’s glare is almost enough to make him squirm. “You gonna say you’re not?”
“I shall hold comments until your ghost is corporeal.”
Dresden glances at Bob. “Think he practices those lines when he’s stirring?”
Bob looks exasperated. “Really, Harry.” He smiles without meaning to, a giddy, shaky turn of his mouth that makes his eyes light up. “If it doesn’t-”
“We’ll be all right,” Dresden says. He waves a hand down the hallway. “Come on. We can’t find out if we’re gonna be sad if you don’t get in there.”
“Very well,” Bob walks forward, fading into the wall, leaving Dresden and Harry alone for a moment.
“Scared?” Harry asks, hand clapping Dresden’s shoulder.
“I can deal if it doesn’t work,” Dresden tells him. “Been dealing with that for years. But Bob, he got to come back once. For a lot of bad reasons tied to a really bad guy, and then he sacrificed it to save me and you and the whole world, probably. If this doesn’t work-”
“I have faith in Severus,” Harry says quietly. “And he’s more than enough faith in himself. Just think about Bob.”
“Do that more than he knows already,” Dresden replies, and the smile he gives Harry is slightly sickly. “Can’t help but hope.”
“That’s a feeling I know well.” Harry grasps Dresden’s elbow and gives a small tug. “The show won’t start until Severus has a full audience.”
“Let’s go,” Dresden says, and walks down the hall.
Bob is standing in the summoning circle, arms at his sides and his shoulders back. Snape is carefully measuring the potion into a beaker and as Dresden and Harry walk into the room, he walks around the circle and coats it with the potion. “That has to sit for precisely two minutes,” Snape says.
No one says anything in the two minutes. Dresden looks at Bob and tries to smile. Bob breathes deep and tries to smile in return. Hope, Dresden thinks, and looks at Harry. Harry is watching Snape work, smiling and seemingly unaware of the rest of the room. Dresden squeezes Harry’s shoulder and makes himself breathe evenly. He’s always had hope, he figures. Doesn’t hurt to use a little extra now.
Snape levitates the cauldron with his wand. He sends it across the room in a graceful arc that ends when he upends the cauldron directly over Bob’s head.
Dresden bursts out laughing. The potion is coating Bob, mostly on the top of his head, but there are slow rivulets deposited on his shoulders. Dresden’s laughter stops. “Bob,” he says, his voice scratching out into a harsh whisper. “Bob, it’s dripping.”
“I can see that, Harry,” Bob says with mild derision. He lifts his arm to inspect the grayish-red drops on his cuffs.
“No,” Dresden says and walks towards the circle. He stops right at the edge, toes half and inch from the line and looks at Snape. Snape nods. Dresden steps into the circle. He touches the potion on Bob’s shoulder and then, his smile wide, wipes potion down the bridge of Bob’s nose. “It’s dripping. On you.”
“It…” Bob stares at himself, at the spatters on his jacket and shoes. He looks at Harry, eyes wide. “It’s dripping.”
“There you go,” Dresden says and catches Bob under the arms as he nearly collapses. “Bob!”
“Surprise, Harry. Merely surprise. And delight. And perhaps a bit of giddiness.” Bob looks at Harry, feels Harry’s breath, and presses his face against Harry’s shirt. “Hello, Harry,” he says quietly.
“Hey, Bob,” Dresden responds just as quietly. He maneuvers them until they’re sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, Bob somewhat awkwardly draped on his lap. Dresden closes his eyes, drops his nose into Bob’s hair, and breathes deep. “You smell like cloves,” he tells Bob.
“You smell like sweat,” Bob says, and his tone is nearly rapturous.
Dresden opens his eyes, expecting to find Snape and Harry still in the room, watching to make sure the potion has actually taken hold. They’re gone, but Morgan is there, working into a rather impressive seethe, and he bares his teeth when Dresden grins at him. “Hey, Morgan. So glad you don't stand on ceremony and wait for an invitation. This creepy appearing out of thin air works so much better for you. But gimmie five, okay?” He requests. “Gotta get Bob out of these wet clothes.”
“Dresden-”
“Five minutes,” Dresden makes himself sound completely serious. “There should be a couple of guys in my front room who can answer some questions.”
“They’d best,” Morgan snarls and turns on his heel.
“He and Snape should compare notes,” Dresden says to Bob.
Bob smiles and begins to stand. “They can do it while I change.” He reaches out a hand to Harry. “I trust you have something I can wear.”
Dresden clasps Bob’s wrist and hauls himself off the ground. “You’re gonna have to do without an ascot until we can go shopping.”
“I shall adjust,” Bob says, still smiling. He lets go of Dresden’s hand slowly and follows him past a glaring Morgan and Snape and a grinning Harry and into the loft. He watches Dresden pull out flannel pants and a Henley shirt and smiles when Dresden holds them out. “Thank you, Harry.”
“I’ll just…” Dresden trails off and turns around. “Not that I’m against-” Dresden is drowned out by the sudden booming voice of Morgan demanding to know “what in five hells” Snape had been thinking. “We could stay up here,” Dresden offers. “You. Me. The bed.”
Bob chuckles. “Tempting, but I feel we should show at least moderate support to those who helped us reach the point where we could stay up here. In bed.”
Dresden rolls his shoulders to keep from shuddering at Bob saying ‘in bed’. “Play fair,” he demands.
“I shall try. You may turn around, Harry.” Bob wiggles his toes and holds out his arms as he looks down at himself. “Not quite as elegant, but certainly comfortable.”
Dresden steps forward and presses his hand against Bob’s chest. “You look good.”
“I feel good.”
“Dresden!” Morgan’s voice thunders. “Get down here, or so help me-”
“Geez, Morgan, calm down!” Dresden says as he slides around Bob and clatters down the stairs. “What’s got you all twisted up?”
Morgan glares at Dresden and points at Bob, who is making his way down the stairs more gracefully. “That.” He rotates his arm to point a finger at Harry and Snape. “And them.”
“Harry Potter, Severus Snape,” Dresden says with a grin, “this is Morgan. He’s with High Council. We’re not close.” Dresden just manages not to take a step back when Morgan heaves a breath in his face. “What’s the big deal?” He snaps, humor gone from his voice. “So Bob can do the dishes now. I don’t see that as a bad thing.”
“I have already explained,” Snape cuts in with derision practically flowing from his voice, “that Bob is still within the bounds of his curse.”
“Except that he can touch things,” Morgan grinds out. “And what’s to stop him from touching his skull and deciding to take a waltz out the door?”
“How about the little glass tracking device?” Dresden asks. He raises his eyebrows when Morgan deflates slightly. “Oh, I see.” He looks over his shoulder at Bob. “You know they’ve got a homing beacon for your skull, right?”
“Dresden!” Morgan practically roars.
“Morgan,” Bob says calmly, “I am not concerned with any escape plans. I am quite happy where I am. And, if you do, indeed, have some sort of tracking device-”
“They do,” Dresden interrupts.
“What is the harm of being able to assist Harry more readily in his pursuits as a wizard? There are many things I can teach him now that I am able to demonstrate proper technique rather than describe it.”
“Dark things?” Morgan says archly.
“Well, certainly,” Bob says, his tone doing a fair impression of Snape’s from a few moments before. “But I could also work with him on his control. That is, of course, if you’re interested in seeing fewer fires on the Chicago skyline.”
Morgan narrows his eyes. He looks from Bob to Dresden. He turns and looks at Snape and Harry. “You two-”
“Here legally,” Harry cuts in. “Have a stamp on my passport to prove it.”
“You did not register your visit with High Council.” Morgan sneers at Snape. “And we’ve no record of your entrance, either. You know you must register with the High Council if you wish to enter the country.”
“A formality wrapped in an annoyance,” Snape declares. “Invented simply so the undesirables can be shooed away.”
Morgan’s glare intensifies. Snape stares back blandly. “You will come into the Chicago office and register-both of you-in the next two days, or I’ll hunt you down and boot you back across the ocean myself.” And then he’s gone, leaving Snape and Harry to stare at Dresden and Bob.
“If a wizard Apparates without making a sound, is it still an Apparation?” Harry asks.
“I don’t find he’s ever in the right mood to ask,” Dresden tells him.
“Were his temperament not quite so…elevated, he could have been interesting,” Snape says. He gives Bob a once-over. “It worked,” he says simply.
“Very well,” Bob says, smiling. “Thank you.”
“You have knowledge that is useful. It should not be wasted because you cannot touch an herb or strengthen a rune.”
Bob blinks. “Are you saying-”
“Magic carries in the soul but requires a vessel,” Snape interrupts. “You have both in one place now.”
Dresden looks at Bob. “Wait. He’s saying-” Dresden’s cut off when Bob holds out a hand and sends a small, white ball of energy bouncing through the air to sink into the runes carved into the post.
“Yes,” Bob says quietly. He gives Snape a small nod. “My greatest thanks.”
Snape nods in return. “You are not mortal, but your body should basically function in the same manner. If you find yourself having issues, you know where I can be reached.” He looks at Harry. “I need to fetch my cauldron.” He steps around Dresden and Bob and walks towards the lab.
“He’s very pleased,” Harry says. “We’re glad it worked.”
“And you two?” Dresden asks before he can stop himself.
“I’ve found him. If he tries to shake me again, I most likely won’t be delirious with fever and arm rot, so he won’t get a three-week head start.”
“Well, if you need help again, you know where we are,” Dresden offers.
Harry beams. “Thank you.” His face brightens when Snape exits the lab, cauldron tucked into his satchel. “We’ll be off, then.”
There’s hand-shaking all around, and then Snape and Harry leave. Dresden drops the shade, locks the door, and turns to look at Bob. “So, how’s life?”
Bob steps forward and meets Harry in the middle of the room. “I wonder,” he says as he presses his hand to Harry’s chest, “if I can eat food again.”
Harry laughs. “Bodies can eat, last I checked. Name it. It’s yours.” He touches Bob’s cheek, his ear, runs his hand through Bob’s hair.
“Pizza,” Bob says. “With all the noise you make over it, I am intrigued.”
“You’ll love it,” Harry insists. He leans in and kisses Bob on the mouth. Bob jumps a little. Harry pulls away. “I-”
“No,” Bob says. “I was expecting you to fall through.” He leans in and kisses Harry, smiling when Harry kisses him in return. “Harry,” he says quietly.
“Bob,” Harry whispers. “You have-”
“Oh, I do,” Bob insists. He pulls out of the kiss and smiles when Harry tries to follow. “Or we could go upstairs and order in later.”
“Yes,” Harry says immediately. “Option B, right now.”
“I suppose,” Bob drawls. “If you’re certain.”
Harry doesn’t bother to respond. He grabs Bob by the hand and tugs.
*
Dresden wakes up the next morning to the phone ringing. He grumbles as he rolls out of bed and pads down the stairs, stopping short of the sight of Bob holding the phone. Bob’s wearing the flannel pants from the night before and one of Dresden’s less ratty T-shirts. He smiles when he meets Dresden’s eye.
“That will be fine. We’ll see you in a few hours. Goodbye.” Bob hangs up the phone and smiles at Dresden. “Good morning, Harry.”
“Morning,” Dresden says and feels the grin slide across his face. “Look at you.” He steps forward and slides a hand under the T-shirt. “You’re still here.”
“Where else would I be?” Bob smiles and presses his palm to Dresden’s bicep. “That was the other Harry. He said he has a business proposition for you. He will be here at one.”
Dresden glances at the clock. “Plenty of time for breakfast.”
“Breakfast,” Bob murmurs. “Tell me you have eggs.”
“I have eggs,” Dresden promises.
*
“You’re an idiot,” Snape says when Harry hangs up the phone.
“I could help you around the shop,” Harry offers and grins when Severus scowls. “I bet Charlotte and I would get along-”
“Shut up,” Severus cuts in. He stands from the table and carries his plate to the sink. “There’s an herbalist halfway down the block. Can you recall the ingredients for a protection potion?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry says and finishes his tea. He walks up behind Severus and rinses out his mug, resting his chin on Severus’s shoulder as he does so. “How strong do you want it?”
“For two men named Harry, one of whom is a pyromaniac? There is not enough Mugwort in the world.”
*
Dresden’s doing dishes and listening to Bob gleefully rearranging things in the lab when Harry walks in the door, a scent carrying with him.. “You carrying Mugwort?” He asks in greeting.
Harry grins. “Amongst other things.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a stoppered vial. “From Severus. It’s a protection potion.”
Dresden takes the potion gingerly between his thumb and forefinger. “Why, exactly, would he be sending one for me?”
“Because I’m here to apply for a job,” Harry tells him. He grins when Dresden looks confused. “Severus is the bookish, nerdy type. I’m not. I could pretend like I want to help around his shop, but I’d rather jab my wand in my eye. I was hoping you needed some help around here.”
“I spend most of my time convincing people I’m not a crackpot,” Dresden says. “And those aren’t paid consultations.”
“I have money,” Harry responds. “I just…” he breathes deep and looks slightly sheepish. “I saved the wizarding world when I was one. I did it at again at seventeen. I faced down a two-faced Death Eater at eleven. A demonic journal at twelve, and the list gets weirder from there. I ran around tracking down Death Eaters for six years while convincing the most stubborn, surly bastard in the world to love me, and then I got to find him again.”
“You’re the hero,” Dresden says with a grin.
“Can’t shake it off,” Harry says with a shrug. “How about you?”
“I’m atoning,” Dresden admits. “With a side of really soft heart.”
“Want to try and save the world?”
Dresden holds out his hand. “Why the hell not?”
Harry shakes.
*
Dresden and Harry pretend not to whimper as Snape and Bob patch them up. “I told you it wasn’t him,” Snape says to Harry.
“The description was close,” Harry argues. “And I know he’s been trying to get in touch-”
“New rule,” Dresden interrupts, hissing as Bob tapes a bandage over a gash on his stomach. “Even if you know a werewolf, no assuming the werewolf knows you.”
“Deal,” Harry agrees.
Snape and Bob exchange a look. “3-to-1 were the odds, I believe,” Snape says.
Bob sighs. “It was a fool’s bet.”