The Dresden Files / Bob / #15. Worn
Title: Touch
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV-verse)
Characters: Bob, young Harry
Prompt: 15. Worn
Word Count: 620
Rating: G
Summary: Harry contemplates Bob's skull for the very first time.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me; just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Justin Morningway's study was a treasure trove of curiosities, especially in the eyes of an inquisitive eleven year old boy. There were maps and paintings, books in odd languages and unusual instruments made out of brass and ivory, crystal balls and painted cards made of thin wood. But of all the novelties to be found therein, nothing fascinated young Harry Dresden more than the yellowed skull of a certain dead and damned sorcerer.
Whenever they were in the same room together, Harry always found his gaze drifting to stare at the grim relic. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was watching him. The dark eye sockets seemed to follow him everywhere as the bared teeth grinned at some secret knowledge. Still, what fascinated Harry most of all were the runes and symbols that covered almost every inch of its surface, from the jaw line to the jagged, triangular hole in the bony cranium. The runes did not appear to have been drawn with chalk or ink but seemed instead to have been deeply etched into the skull itself. Upon closer inspection, some of the markings were clear and sharp while others were thin and worn, as if someone had polished the bone over and over again.
Leaning forward, Harry peered closely at one of the faded symbols and tried to follow its original shape. Without thinking, he reached out to trace it with a fingertip. Suddenly realizing what he was about to do, he jerked his hand back.
"It will not bite you."
Startled, Harry jumped at the sound of that crisp, imperious voice so close beside him. "I wasn't going to touch it! Honest!"
"No, of course not," replied Hrothbert of Bainbridge with wry amusement. "But you wanted to."
"No I didn't! I wouldn't … I mean, I wasn't … um … because …"
"Yes?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably beneath the piercing, clear blue gaze of his teacher and grudgingly confessed, "Because Uncle Justin would get really mad."
"Your uncle is presently out of the house and at a meeting in the city."
"He'll know. He always knows."
"He is not omniscient, Harry, no matter what he may have led you to believe." The ghost nodded toward the skull. "Go on."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. You may touch it."
"You won't tell Uncle Justin? Promise?"
"I shan't breath a word."
The skull grinned at him encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, Harry slowly reached out and stroked the brow between the empty eye sockets (far away from the neat row of teeth, just in case). The bone was dry and cool beneath his fingers, the runes small ridges and bumps that he could follow with a touch.
"Can you feel me touching it?"
"No," replied the ghost as he observed the boy's tentative exploration. "I can feel nothing."
Harry looked up into the lean, aristocratic features. "Is it really you? I mean, yours? When you were … alive?"
"It was."
"And now you're not alive."
"Obviously."
"But you're still stuck inside it. Your ghost."
"Yes."
"Where's the rest of you?"
Hrothbert was taken aback. "Do you know … I haven't the vaguest idea." It had never occurred to him to wonder. "Not that it matters," he said after a moment's contemplation. "It has long since gone to dust." Or ashes. Undoubtedly, the High Council had obliterated whatever else remained of his mortal shell.
"I'm sorry."
The ghost looked at the boy with an unfathomable expression, as if he were the curiosity.
Harry frowned, confused. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
"No, Master Dresden," replied Hrothbert quietly, finding himself surprisingly touched by the boy's sincerity. "You said something absolutely right, and I thank you for it."
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV-verse)
Characters: Bob, young Harry
Prompt: 15. Worn
Word Count: 620
Rating: G
Summary: Harry contemplates Bob's skull for the very first time.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me; just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Justin Morningway's study was a treasure trove of curiosities, especially in the eyes of an inquisitive eleven year old boy. There were maps and paintings, books in odd languages and unusual instruments made out of brass and ivory, crystal balls and painted cards made of thin wood. But of all the novelties to be found therein, nothing fascinated young Harry Dresden more than the yellowed skull of a certain dead and damned sorcerer.
Whenever they were in the same room together, Harry always found his gaze drifting to stare at the grim relic. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was watching him. The dark eye sockets seemed to follow him everywhere as the bared teeth grinned at some secret knowledge. Still, what fascinated Harry most of all were the runes and symbols that covered almost every inch of its surface, from the jaw line to the jagged, triangular hole in the bony cranium. The runes did not appear to have been drawn with chalk or ink but seemed instead to have been deeply etched into the skull itself. Upon closer inspection, some of the markings were clear and sharp while others were thin and worn, as if someone had polished the bone over and over again.
Leaning forward, Harry peered closely at one of the faded symbols and tried to follow its original shape. Without thinking, he reached out to trace it with a fingertip. Suddenly realizing what he was about to do, he jerked his hand back.
"It will not bite you."
Startled, Harry jumped at the sound of that crisp, imperious voice so close beside him. "I wasn't going to touch it! Honest!"
"No, of course not," replied Hrothbert of Bainbridge with wry amusement. "But you wanted to."
"No I didn't! I wouldn't … I mean, I wasn't … um … because …"
"Yes?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably beneath the piercing, clear blue gaze of his teacher and grudgingly confessed, "Because Uncle Justin would get really mad."
"Your uncle is presently out of the house and at a meeting in the city."
"He'll know. He always knows."
"He is not omniscient, Harry, no matter what he may have led you to believe." The ghost nodded toward the skull. "Go on."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. You may touch it."
"You won't tell Uncle Justin? Promise?"
"I shan't breath a word."
The skull grinned at him encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, Harry slowly reached out and stroked the brow between the empty eye sockets (far away from the neat row of teeth, just in case). The bone was dry and cool beneath his fingers, the runes small ridges and bumps that he could follow with a touch.
"Can you feel me touching it?"
"No," replied the ghost as he observed the boy's tentative exploration. "I can feel nothing."
Harry looked up into the lean, aristocratic features. "Is it really you? I mean, yours? When you were … alive?"
"It was."
"And now you're not alive."
"Obviously."
"But you're still stuck inside it. Your ghost."
"Yes."
"Where's the rest of you?"
Hrothbert was taken aback. "Do you know … I haven't the vaguest idea." It had never occurred to him to wonder. "Not that it matters," he said after a moment's contemplation. "It has long since gone to dust." Or ashes. Undoubtedly, the High Council had obliterated whatever else remained of his mortal shell.
"I'm sorry."
The ghost looked at the boy with an unfathomable expression, as if he were the curiosity.
Harry frowned, confused. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
"No, Master Dresden," replied Hrothbert quietly, finding himself surprisingly touched by the boy's sincerity. "You said something absolutely right, and I thank you for it."