Volunteers, Chapter 3b

[annafugazzi]

Date: April 26
From: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
To: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
Thanks for the Obliviating Thread. I passed it on to the student's family today.

Date: April 26
From: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
To: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
You're welcome. Did you hear back from the Aurors about the Beltane events happening this week?

Date: April 26
From: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
To: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
Yes, and they said they don't need us there. They don't anticipate any trouble. They just need us there for May first.

Date: April 27
From: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
To: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
Good. I was starting to worry. This hasn't turned out to be quite the sinecure it was supposed to be.

Date: April 27
From: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
To: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
I've noticed. We were only supposed to have five meetings in all.

Date: April 27
From: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
To: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
We're still meeting the night before, to go over the last few items?

Date: April 28
From: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
To: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
Yeah, as far as I know.

Date: April 28
From: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
To: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
By the way, Alec's been asking when we're going to invite Ben over. How about Beltane Eve? You could drop him off for a few hours to play, then we could do our meeting; kill two birds with one stone.

Date: April 28
From: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
To: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
LOL! Good idea, I'll tell Ben. Does five thirty sound all right, and then we'll meet at eight? I've got some things to do in London.

Date: April 29
From: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
To: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
Sounds good. I'll let Alec know.

Date: April 29
From: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
To: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
By the way, what's LOL?

Date: April 29
From: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
To: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
LOL = Laughing Out Loud. Common internet acronym. I keep forgetting you aren't terribly familiar with the Muggle world any more.

Date: April 29
From: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
To: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
It's been a long time. What were you laughing at?

Date: April 29
From: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
To: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
Your Muggle version of killing two vampires with one stake.

Date: April 29
From: hjpotter@gringotts.wz
To: malfoyd@globalcafe.ie
Oh. I didn't know there was a wizarding version. By the way, I got a call from the Aurors about one of the events today. I've attached their report of what happened, nothing to worry about, but I thought you'd like to know.
I'll see you tomorrow.

***
April 30

"Ben," Harry said. "I think your dad's going to be here soon. Can you pick up your things?"

Ben gave Harry an innocent pity-me look. "Already? But I haven't finished teaching Alec the song from my choir."

"Maybe you can finish teaching him while your dad and I finish up the plans for tomorrow. Or another time." Harry bit his lip. Damn, he and Draco were supposed to be done working together as of tomorrow; they didn't need to be in contact until next Beltane.

"How are you getting home?" Alec asked.

"We're going to Floo from the downstairs of your building! It's so brilliant! But Dad says he doesn't like it because you get ash in your hair." He frowned. "I wonder if I could get him to buy a broom."

Harry smiled. "I think he might like that. He was a very good flyer in school."

There was a knock on the door. "That's probably my Da!" Ben said, raced to the door and opened it to find a rather disgruntled Draco standing there, shaking ash from his clothing.

"Whoever invented Floo travel was an idiot," Draco said, carding fingers through his hair.

"It's brilliant, Dad!" Ben protested. "'Course it's not as brilliant as a broom," he admitted. "Dad! I got to fly on a broom today!"

Draco grinned at him. "Was it fun?"

"Yeah! You've got to buy a broom, Dad! What kind of wizard doesn't have a broom?"

"One who's been living among Muggles for a very long time," Draco said dryly. "It's one of those hard to explain things."

"And I was teaching Alec the song!" Ben said, and proceeded to chatter at high speed as Draco nodded seriously. He looked at Harry, and Harry felt himself blushing.

This was awkward. There was something a bit odd about Draco, as if he was looking at Harry trying to figure something out. Same as he had been the other day when Harry had picked up Alec, and Harry couldn't figure out why. It was rather disconcerting.

And of course his overactive libido was telling him hopefully that there was mutual interest there, even as his brain popped in to let him know that there wasn't, and that even if there were, it didn't mean anything. Anything good, that is.

"Did you go flying with your dad?" Ben asked Draco.

"Yeah. He bought me my first broom and taught me how to play Quidditch."

"OH!" Ben said suddenly. "I just remembered where I put that toy Snitch!" Both boys ran out of the room.

"What?" Draco asked, and Harry realized he'd been caught mid-ogle, admiring how well Draco wore wizarding clothes and debating whether he looked better in Muggle jeans that showed off his... attributes, or in robes, which gave him a more mature look.

"Oh. Nothing," he said, slightly panicked. "I - it's just hard to think of your father doing regular father things," he blurted, then blushed harder. God no, that wasn't any better at all. I wasn't mentally undressing you, I was just thinking nasty things about your father. Augh!

To his relief, Draco didn't take offense. "No, I suppose not. He did, though."

"Yeah?"

"Well, he wasn't always going on about Voldemort and pureblood issues. He did have other pastimes."

"Like what?" Harry asked, unable to stop the question.

"Well he loved music, and art. And needlepoint... square dancing..."

Harry frowned suspiciously. "Square dancing."

"Oh yes. He studied at Salem for a few years, became very intrigued by American customs. He was quite good at it. Became a decent caller, too - and of course he also loved auctions, he was a very skilled auctioneer..."

"All right, I get it," Harry said, catching a small twitch at the edge of Draco's smile and starting to laugh.

Draco laughed. "I had you going there, though, didn't I?"

"It's not that hard to believe, after the duck thing," Harry said, and Draco chuckled.

The duck thing. He smiled. Imagining Lucius Malfoy waddling and quacking had already got him through one boring meeting with the goblins, and he didn't think the amusement value would wear off any time soon.

There was a knock on the door and Harry went to get it, surprised to see Ron and Hermione at the door.

"Oh! You're out of the hospital!" he said, and Hermione grinned.

"Can't leave for too long, but the Healers say I can be out of bed for a few hours a day now. Molly's got the baby and Jason and she pushed us out." She and Ron suddenly spotted Draco and there was a small silence.

"Oh. Erm. Hello, Malfoy," Hermione said, and gave Ron a small poke.

"Yeah, hi," he said. "Erm. Good to see you."

"Likewise," Draco said stiffly.

Ben and Alec came running into the living room and Ben stopped short. Alec stopped behind him, looking up at Ron and Hermione warily, no doubt remembering that none of the Weasleys had been impressed with his friendship with Ben.

"And who is this?" Hermione said, smiling politely at Ben.

"My son Ben," Draco said, and Ben stepped up and held out his hand.

"Ben Greely, pleased to meet ye," he said, shaking her hand, and Hermione smiled again - genuinely this time.

"I'm Hermione, and this is my husband, Ron," she said, and Ben shook Ron's hand as well.

"Are you a witch too?" he asked, and Hermione nodded. Ben grinned. "Brilliant!"

Harry smiled, amused, as Hermione and Ron exchanged looks of surprise and started answering a bombardment of questions from Ben. He probably wasn't anything like what they could possibly have expected Draco Malfoy's son to be. It would take a lot of determination not to warm up to Ben, he thought, and Hermione and Ron didn't stand a chance against his enthusiastic charm.

"Er, so, are you ready for Beltane tomorrow?" Hermione asked a few minutes later, after Draco had finally succeeded in getting Ben to leave the grown-ups alone by reminding him that he had come to Alec's house to play with Alec.

"Yeah, mostly," said Harry. "There's a few wards to set tomorrow morning, but otherwise it's good. Should go without incident."

"Without further incident," Draco corrected.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"A few of the events take place before Beltane," Harry said. "Irish dancing festivals, things like that."

"Mostly nothing we have to worry about," said Draco. "The Muggle ones are mostly cultural, so they aren't using any of the magical places the wizards are. Though there was a bit of trouble at yesterday's event."

"What kind?"

"Oh, just a witch who got angry at one of the Irish dancers and used Tarantallegra on him. The man was Obliviated and she was given a warning. She shouldn't have been there at all, but she'd got mixed up with the dates and thought she was going to observe a Wiccan festival."

Ron shook his head. "That's so strange, Muggles claiming to be witches."

"How could anybody actually believe in that rubbish?" Hermione said scornfully. "It's absolute bosh."

Draco looked away, the corner of his mouth quirked in a small smile.

"So you weren't at the events this week?" Hermione asked.

"No," said Harry. "We offered, but the Aurors said they didn't need us. We'll be there tomorrow, though."

There was a small, uncomfortable silence.

"Erm, so... so how old is Ben?" Hermione asked.

"Five."

"And his mother's a Muggle?" Draco nodded. "Where did you meet her?"

"At a Wiccan gathering."

There was a frozen silence before Hermione laughed, and then Ron and Harry joined in.

"Very funny. Where was it really?"

Draco smiled. "Town Hall. We were singing in the same choir."

Hermione and Ron nodded, at a loss as to how to ask what they were obviously dying to know, which was how Ben had come about.

"So, erm," Ron began. "Harry, we were going to ask you if you wanted to come out with us, but you're working..."

"Yeah, last minute things," Harry said apologetically.

"Sorry, we forgot. We're off to Fred's, then. Nice seeing you, Malfoy," Hermione said, and Draco nodded politely.

"Harry, I'll say hello to Fred for you," Ron said, giving Harry a meaningful look as they left.

"All right, let's see to the last minute things," Harry said after the door closed behind them.

"The Celtic music group is moving to the north grove," Draco said, "So at least that's one worry gone."

"The bonfire's going to be difficult to keep wizards out of," said Harry. "There's two of them and it's quite tempting to run through them."

"I've heard it's also tempting to go in and see whether it's true that a bonfire just feels like tickling, the way the Inquisition and Witch Hunt folks said it was."

"Damn, I can imagine," Harry said, grimacing.

"However, I did get rid of one trouble spot. The MoonShadow Wiccans will be coming in at ten, not eleven, so we don't have to worry about them and the wizard jugglers competing for space any more."

"How did you do that?"

"Had an in with their leader," Draco said smugly. "Told her I couldn't take care of Ben at eleven."

Harry blinked. "Their leader... you mean Kara?"

"Yeah, Kara. It's good to know people."

Harry stared at him. "She's Wiccan?"

"Yeah."

"You really did meet her at a Wiccan meeting, then."

"Yeah. At Town Hall."

"Really? She's into that?"

"She's into many things. She's a minority in every conceivable way; black, lesbian, pagan... she often jokes about wanting to move to London so she'll be foreign, too."

Harry smiled. "How did you end up at a Wiccan meeting?"

Draco shrugged. "It was during the first year I was here. I was mostly sightseeing in the Muggle world and I heard about this religion. It sounded bizarre enough that I went to see." He smiled slightly. "It was... interesting."

"I suppose it would be," Harry said.

"Harry," Ben said, racing into the room, "you'll be at Beltane tomorrow, right? You and Alec both?"

"Yeah."

"Are you staying for the bonfires?"

"Probably."

Ben grinned. "Me too. We go every year. Even before I was born, me Mam says."

"Really?"

"And I was born because of Beltane, too!" Ben said. He raced out the door, yelling, "Alec! You're going tomorrow too!"

Harry looked at Draco questioningly. Draco looked both disconcerted and amused.

"What did he mean?"

"Ah." Draco looked at Harry as though trying to figure out how to word what he was about to say. He cleared his throat. "It means that's how he was conceived."

"What?"

"The experiment with the unintended side effect. Kara was the May Queen, and the Horned King/Green Man got sick at the last minute. Kara asked me to substitute."

Harry's eyes widened. "And you did?" Draco nodded. "You mean... you had sex... in public?"

"Well, yes," Draco said, looking like he was trying not to laugh.

"Did you actually... were you a Wiccan?"

Draco looked away. "No, not really. It was interesting stuff, but not terribly logical. I did get to have sex though, that was nice."

"Erm. With a woman?"

"It's a bit harder to conceive with a man," Draco pointed out. "Sex is sex. I don't swing that far off that I can't do it with a woman at all."

"Erm." Harry became aware that he was blinking rather more than normal.

"You all right?" Draco asked, more amused by the second.

"Just a bit of a shock, that's all."

"You're telling me." He laughed, openly now. "You should see your face."

"Right. I just... it's, erm," Harry blinked, steadfastly refusing to allow any images of Wiccan ceremonies to form in his head. "Wasn't there anybody else?"

"To be honest, I never really quite understood that part. She said something about how since we were both gay it was symbolic of still respecting the gods of fertility or something, I really couldn't follow it at all. The original Green Man was also gay and it was a big deal, apparently." He shrugged. "Whatever."

"You weren't nervous?"

Draco sobered abruptly and looked away. "I was," he finally admitted. "But not that much. Getting up the courage to speak to Muggles at all took months. Having sex in public? Dead easy, once I'd done that."

"Was it really that difficult?"

Draco regarded him seriously, obviously trying not to snap at him. "Think about it for a moment. You're locked up for nine months, and when you're let out it's only on condition that you not perform any magic at all, because if you do you'll be locked up for the rest of your life. You can't risk being around anyone in the wizarding world because you know you'd probably perform some simple charm accidentally, but you've been raised thinking that Muggles are subhuman evil vermin." He scowled at Harry. "I know you're the Boy Who Lived, the great hero of the wizarding world. Everyone knows you're brave. But try to convince me that you wouldn't be terrified to make the first move."

Harry bit his lip. Yeah, not that difficult to believe after all. "I guess... I guess I hadn't really thought about that."

"It shows."

They was a strained silence.

"Right." Harry cleared his throat. "Erm. Let's go over our notes. I think we were going to talk about the Mummers again?"

***

"Daddy, d'you fancy Draco?" Alec asked later that night, after Draco and Ben had left.

Harry choked on his tea and started to cough. "What?!"

Alec frowned. "That's funny. Draco did the same thing when I asked him."

"Did what?" Harry coughed out.

"Choked on his tea."

"When you asked him what?"

"I said I thought you fancied him. Ben thinks he fancies you. Did you know he doesn't have any uncles?"

"You said what?" Alec blinked, startled. Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten. "You said what?" he repeated a little more calmly, once he could trust his voice again.

"I asked him if he was going to marry you. Because you're both not married. Do you like each other?"

Harry blinked.

"I think it would be nice if you got married. Grandmum said Mummy would've wanted you to get married again. And if you did then Ben could live here, or maybe we could live where they live, and there would be music all the time and-"

"Alec, wait!" Harry broke in. "It's not... look, it's complicated. It wouldn't work."

"Because of Uncle Fred?"

"It's not just Uncle Fred, little man. A lot of people think the way he does."

"But you said Draco's changed," Alec said, frowning.

Harry stared at his son. This was so ridiculously simple, yet so difficult, to express in words. He took a deep breath. "You're going to have to trust me on this. It's complicated, and it wouldn't work. I'm sorry."

He swallowed hard as Alec turned away, drawing in on himself, a look of profound disappointment on his small face. Damn, that always got to him. He reached out to pull Alec close. "I'm sorry, little man. It would... you're right, in a lot of ways it would be nice, but it really wouldn't work out. Trust me on this, okay?"

Alec stayed stiff in his arms. "D'you fancy him?" he asked.

Harry sighed. "Yeah."

"Ben said he fancies you too."

Harry closed his eyes. Yes, now that he was honest with himself, there had been signs of that from Draco, and Ben just might be right, and Harry was stupid to have convinced himself the signs weren't there. But it didn't mean anything. Even though what he wanted most to say was "What did Draco say when Ben said that?"

"Alec. We can't. It would be too risky, and we've both got responsibilities. Real responsibilities, to real people."

"You're being silly," Alec said, and sounded so much like Hermione that Harry had to stifle a smile. "You're really being silly."

"Silly or not, it's time for you to get ready for bed," Harry said, and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, little man."

***

"Dad."

"Yes?" Draco asked, absorbed in marking an assignment. No, idiot, that's a minor key, he wrote. And you're a hopelessly minor musician, so you should get along with it just fine.

"Why didn't you tell me about being a half-blood?"

Draco looked up. "What?"

"Alec said some wizards don't like half-bloods. Is that true?"

"Some wizards. Not many."

"Are you a pureblood?"

Draco nodded.

"Was your whole family purebloods?"

"Mostly, yeah."

"Did they hate half-bloods?"

Draco sighed. Oh, he was not ready for this conversation. Not now, and probably not ever. He considered lying, but couldn't quite gather up the guts to do so. "Ben... it's not... it's not quite the same as your grandfather not liking me for being white and you for being half-white. And it's nothing at all like being black in Dublin. Most wizards are half-bloods and Muggle-borns. It's not like you'd be the only one."

"Did your Mam or Da hate half-bloods?" Draco lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Is that why you never talk about them?"

"There's a lot of reasons for that," Draco said, and met Ben's grey-hazel eyes, so much like his own. The only thing about his son that was. "That is one of the reasons, though," he admitted reluctantly.

"When did they die?"

Draco frowned. "I never told you they died."

"You never see them and you never talk about them. I thought they died."

"No."

"Then where are they?"

Draco swallowed. "Ben..."

"Why don't you ever see them?"

"My parents and I... it's complicated. They... they believed some things I didn't agree with."

Ben frowned. "Do they know you're gay?"

"Oh. Yes, I suppose they do. It never came up."

"Do they think that's bad too, like Granddad does?"

"No, probably not. That's different in the wizarding world. Most people don't care about that."

"Then how come you live here, when you're a wizard?"

Draco stood up. "Ben, we'll talk about my parents another time. There's a lot you're just too young to understand, and I'll try to explain when you're older. Right now we need to get you ready for bed." He put down his marking, setting a small spell on the last assignment to remind himself to go through and take out the many rude comments he'd made throughout.

"Will there really be other wizards at Beltane tomorrow?"

"Yeah. You won't be able to talk to them, though. Not this year."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm supposed to be keeping the wizards and Muggles apart."

"But why?"

"Same reason you're not allowed to talk to your mum about the wizarding world."

"I think she'd like it if I could. 'Specially with her being Wiccan and all."

"Yeah, probably, but we really can't. It's for everyone's protection."

"Why?"

"Muggles are afraid of us."

"So... Muggles are afraid of wizards," Ben said slowly, "and wizards don't want half-bloods."

Draco pressed his lips together, annoyed at himself for basically telling his five-year-old that he was likely to be simultaneously rejected by two different groups of people. How comforting. "I've told you, not all wizards think that way. Not even most of them."

"Alec doesn't. He's brilliant, isn't he?"

"Yeah. Come on, brush your teeth."

"Can you do it? I really like that spell."

Draco smiled. "All right," he said, and waved his wand. Ben squealed.

"Can you tell me the story about the nasty hippogriff and the really dumb giant?"

Draco blinked. Ah, yet another reason he and Harry could never go anywhere. He winced as he pictured Harry's face if he overheard Ben telling Alec about Hagrid and his vicious giant chicken.

"No, I'll read to you instead," he said, selecting one of the magical children's books on Ben's shelf and settling down to read to him. One of his first purchases after regaining permission to use magic, when Ben was a year old. He still remembered the terrifying thrill of going into Diagon Alley for the first time since the war, as well as the humiliation of having to ask for permission to do so. Having to explain about his son to a condescending witch at Magical Law Enforcement's Parole department, and being turned down on his request to use a glamour to hide who he was.

He finished reading Nonny and the Norwegian Ridgeback, kissed his son's forehead and left the room, going back out to finish his marking.

Your interpretation of this sonnet is brilliant. Unfortunately, you appear to have confused your musical theory class with English literature.

It is inspiring to see how much you have managed to write without actually saying a single thing.

They were all right, he and Ben, he found himself thinking, unable to concentrate on his work. Ben was happy enough without contact with the wizarding world. Tomorrow he'd see some wizards and witches and hopefully he'd be happy with that, and then over the next year maybe Draco could start dropping by the wizarding areas in Dublin, get to know some of the people there one-on-one, then bring Ben to see them.

If only the Ministry had allowed him to emigrate off the Isles. The Continent was too close, but he could have introduced Ben to the wizarding world in North America or Australia without fear that his son would be judged by association with a former Azkaban inmate. As it was, the best he could hope for was that Ireland's wizarding community would be more forgiving than England's, and that when – if – it came time for Ben to go to Hogwarts, there would be less chance of one of his classmates knowing who his father was.

I despair of the future of Muggle Irish music.

What your paper lacks in originality, it makes up for in ignorance.

He stood, giving up on marking for the night, and looked in on Ben, who was sleeping peacefully. Draco sat on the bed beside him, thinking.

He wanted, so badly, to go back. To be back among his own kind, no matter the consequences. He'd probably be shunned, he'd be a pariah, but he would at least be home.

And he wanted, so badly, to pursue whatever this was between himself and Harry. To touch him, feel the magic humming under his skin instead of the blankness he felt with Muggles. Wanted to run hands through his hair, touch their lips together, pull him close, bring him off, hear him moan... and damn it, he was getting hard again. It seemed like he spent half his life hard and frustrated these days. He considered going to his room to deal with it the way he had been doing more and more often lately, but knew it wouldn't really help. He'd just end up tired and feeling let down again.

Instead, he stayed where he was, gazing at Ben, the reason he couldn't let this follow its course.

It was too risky. If it weren't for Ben, he'd go for it, on the assumption that even if things didn't work out romantically in the end, the status boost of being seen with the Boy Who Lived would be a definite plus. But he had Ben to think of. And Ben didn't need to have his father getting publicity again, being talked about in the papers.

He sighed, taking Ben's hand in his own, pushing his hair off his forehead. When had he become someone who would avoid what he wanted and not take risks he wanted very much to take, because of another person? Especially a half-blood? His ancestors on both the Malfoy and Black sides were probably spinning so fast in their graves you could measure the vibrations.

"Why don't you ever see them?" Ben had asked. "How come you live here, when you're a wizard?"

How could he come close to explaining any of that to his son? He pictured Ben's face if he told him about the war, about Azkaban, pictured his hazel eyes going round with shock, his respect for his father diminished.

And where could he begin? What could he tell Ben about that part of his past?

There'd been no Dementors in Azkaban, no torture, no starvation. But Azkaban was cold, dark, dank and dirty, everything in it harsh and ugly. The food was barely edible, sparse, and always tepid and tasteless. His cell was bare and empty of everything but himself. No wands, no books, no paper; nothing.

Nothing to do except sit, day after day after day, alone in a tiny cell for all but one hour, his only diversion the voices of the other inmates housed in his block. The only time he saw human faces was during the noon meal when they were allowed to congregate in the courtyard. Nothing to do but wait for each long day to end and cycle through every emotion from resentment to hunger to anger to regret to hatred to fear to exhaustion to despair to boredom. Always, always boredom.

He'd only ever talked to Mother and Father at lunch, because the prisoners under life sentence were not housed in his block. Father had been thin, unshaven and vacant-eyed when he and Mother got there, having already served more than three years. Mother's fine robes had been exchanged for inmate's garb that was old and threadbare before she'd ever put it on. He'd watched Mother's luxurious hair go stringy and dull and lifeless, her eyes become empty as she aged before his eyes, and he'd been glad there was no mirror to show him what he looked like. He wasn't sure it was a good thing that he'd only seen himself, dirty, bearded, thin and broken, at the end of his sentence, when he was too tired and defeated to care about his appearance any more.

Maybe he'd deserved Azkaban, though at the time he'd been full of contempt for the people who'd put him away for the crime of having been on the losing side of the war. Full of hatred at the hypocrites who put his mother away, because Mother hadn't done anything to deserve her sentence, other than be wife and mother to two Death Eaters and refuse to renounce her beliefs. And maybe he'd deserved exile as well, though at the time he'd seen it as just another way for the ones who'd won the war to step on those who'd lost. But he didn't know how he felt about any of it any more.

How could he explain any of that to Ben? How could he explain why Mother and Father were still in there, and why they had never written back to him, when he couldn't explain it himself? How could he explain it so that Ben wouldn't lose all respect for him, but would understand why it wasn't a good idea to be too open with the identity of his father in the wizarding world? And should he tell Ben, or hide from him, the fact that the reason he wasn't going to pursue anything with Harry was that he couldn't, for Ben's sake?

If only he could go to somebody for advice. A friend or a relative. Somebody who would understand, someone he could trust.

His eyes fell on a small goddess figurine on Ben's bookshelf, that Kara had given to Ben, and he thought for a while, debating within himself. It had been a long time, but...

He picked it up almost reluctantly, weighing it in his hand, running fingers over its smooth surface.

I don't know if I'm doing the right thing here, he told her, feeling hesitant and somewhat foolish as always when he dabbled in this, and he almost started to put the figurine back on her shelf. He didn't normally do this much any more. He didn't need it, not like he had when he'd first come here. Religion is for the weak, Father had always said, but it was the only thing that had kept him relatively sane in those first months after leaving Azkaban, when he'd been so alone and confused that he was willing to talk to anything that might listen, willing to give gods and spirits the benefit of the doubt and get what comfort he could from them.

He touched the figurine again, stilled his thoughts. I'm doing the right thing here, right? he asked tentatively. Taking Ben to the Hill tomorrow, without telling him about my past? I suppose it's kind of too late to back out of that one.

He gazed at Ben, who mumbled and rolled over in his sleep, and his thoughts refused to lie still. Dimly he remembered Kara saying that a proper attitude during prayer was restful meditation, and that one reached not for some outward deity but towards one's own divinity or something incomprehensible like that, but restful meditation seemed about as far away as the moon right now.

Help me. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing.

I don't even know if I'm doing the right thing by not pursuing Harry. I know we're supposed to honour love and physical attraction, and treat our body's wishes with respect. But I have a child to think of. I'm not trying to reject a gift of the goddess, I'm just trying to do what's right. Am I?

I wish I believed you could send me a sign.

Oh why am I even talking to you? I don't even know if I believe in you. He sighed and gently put Ben's figurine back on the shelf before leaning down to give him a kiss and heading for his own bed.

Prologue
Chapter 1a
Chapter 1b
Chapter 2a
Chapter 2b
Chapter 3a (Previous)
Chapter 3c (Next)

Comments

[scrtkpr.livejournal.com]

I wasn't mentally undressing you, I was just thinking nasty things about your father.

LOL!


"You're being silly," Alec said, and sounded so much like Hermione that Harry had to stifle a smile. "You're really being silly."

"All right," he said, and waved his wand. Ben squealed.

These seem like such genuine kid-like reactions. They made me think of my 4yo. :)


"Can you tell me the story about the nasty hippogriff and the really dumb giant?"

Love it!

[annafugazzi.livejournal.com]

These seem like such genuine kid-like reactions. They made me think of my 4yo. :)
Hee! Thanks. It's been a couple years since my youngest was that age, so I was hoping I still remembered what kids that age are like. They grow so unbelievably fast :(

Volunteers 3b'

[ravenpan.livejournal.com]

I really love this so much *Wibble*