Pet

*~*~*~
FIFTEEN
*~*~*~*
Harry stared wordlessly at the large man; Rose continued to wail in his ear and he was too disorganized to think clearly. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Mark ran his rough thumb the length of the scar and ghosted his fingers over the tattoo. He reached up and took Rose from Harry’s unresisting arms.

“How…” Harry began. “What?”

“That’s a wizard’s tattoo, love. Don’t see them too often, but you remember them when you do.” He settled the whimpering Rose over one broad shoulder and patted her back. “Get your clothes on, Em. We need to have a talk.”

Harry pulled on his boxers and a clean pair of jeans, a t-shirt, flannel shirt and the Weasley sweater. He sat on a bench and put on his footwear, all the while trying to figure out what to do. He could bolt, but Mark still had Rosamond.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you, but that’s one butt ugly sweater.” Mark was trying to ease the tension. He could see the wheels turning in the younger man’s eyes.

“My best friend’s mother knitted it for me for Christmas…” Harry traced some stitches absently. “They’re both dead now…she used to knit my initial on the chest, but stopped that a few years ago…”

“Harry…Rosie’s mum didn’t abandon her, did she?” Harry looked up, fear in the green eyes. “You’re her mum, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“The tattoo…” Mark continued, carefully. “It’s a mark of ownership…”

“How do you know about wizards? I can’t sense any magic in you.”

“I’m a Squib…not a healthy thing to be in a family of dark wizards…” Mark leveled a look into Harry’s eyes. “Not too healthy to be a dark wizard’s runaway fuck toy either.”

“Are you going to turn us in? I imagine my master would reward you well.”

Mark snorted. “I like you too much to see you die. Do you know who Evan Rosier is?”

“Was. He was one of Lord Voldemort’s supporters in his first rise to power.”

“Bastard’s dead? Good. Evan Rosier was my uncle…used to practice his curses on me…I will never forget the Cruciatus Curse…No, Harry, your secret is safe with me. I turned my back on the wizarding world seventeen years ago.”

Harry mulled this information over in his head. Mark had left the wizarding world before the myth of the “Boy Who Lived” began; he knew him as only Harry Potter, not THE Harry Potter and he hated dark wizards. Harry hoped he could trust the man.

He held out Rose’s snowsuit, indicating Mark should hand her back, but Mark snagged the tiny garment in one hand and expertly dressed the now quiet infant. Her serious green eyes watched him as he snapped the hood beneath her chin. Mark wrapped her in a heavy blanket and tucked her securely in his arms.

“Get your stuff, Em. We need to get Rosie in her bed.”

“How do you know so much about babies? Are you married?”

“Nah. I spent eight years in Muggle foster care…got really good with nappies and bottles…Get your coat. I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that, Mark. We can talk some more tomorrow.”

“Sorry, love, but I want answers and you’ll bolt. You and I both know that you will.”

~*~*~*~
Knowing Harry would run if given the opportunity, Mark did not relinquish his hold on the sprite’s daughter. The snow-covered sidewalks were deserted as they made their way down the block.

“You exploded those shot glasses in Sid’s office today.” It was a statement. It was not phrased as a question.

“Uncontrolled wandless magic. My magic is shattered and I have no wand…I am still getting a handle on what I can do….” Harry paused, his eyebrow arched. ”You get off on watching?”

“Fuck no. Slimy bastard, Sid is. Came to break it up. What was in that envelope that was so important?”

Harry was quiet. Mark looked at the smaller man. “Look, kid, half the whores at Fiddlesticks are junkies…Sid has no qualms about getting you hooked to pedal your arse….He’s turned smarter ones than you.”

“A National Insurance Number Card.”

“A what?” Mark stopped in the snow.

“A National Insurance Number Card…That’s what Mr. Toffler gave me. The only Muggle identification I had was a student bus pass…What the fuck was I supposed to do with a bus pass?”

*~*~*~*
They walked in silence, the snowflakes blowing briskly against their skin. Mark adjusted the sleeping Rose so that the wind did not blow into her face. The bouncer was confused when Harry stopped at the gate of a U-Rent Storage facility and punched in a security code, unlocking the security fence. Closing the gate tightly behind them, Harry walked between several rows of garage bays, ending with a line of steel reinforced doors. Midway down the row of doors, Harry stopped and unlocked a rust pocked and dented door.

“What are we doing here? It’s late and I don’t want to play games with you.”

“You wanted to walk me home.” The green eyed wizard replied softly. “You’ve walked me home.”

Harry pulled open the door and tugged at the chain controlling a bare overhead light bulb. He took the sleeping Rose from Mark’s arms and stepped into the storage room. It was not much larger than a closet. The walls were lined with metal brackets designed to hold thick MDF shelves.

Harry had created a nest of blankets in the storage room. Only two shelves remained fastened in the metal grid; one high shelf contained a bag of diapers, an insulated picnic cooler, textbooks and a few neatly folded articles of clothing. The lower shelf, a few feet from the floor, contained Rose’s wicker basket and blankets. Harry had lined the walls and the floor with the unused MDF boards and blankets in an attempt at insulation.

The shock was evident on Mark’s face as Harry settled Rose into her basket, loosening the snowsuit and tucking a dry blanket around her. He couldn’t meet Mark’s eyes.

“You can’t stay here.” Mark finally sputtered. “It’s February and it’s freezing out.”

“It’s warm enough and its dry.”

“It’s a fucking closet…you can’t stay here…especially not with a baby.”

Harry mumbled something and looked away.

“What?” Mark barked.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Mark looked at the meager belongings stored in the tiny nest. “Do you at least have food in the cooler?”

“Baby formula…the insulation keeps it from freezing…and doesn’t attract vermin.”

Mark picked up a tattered school textbook. “Beginning Geometry and Trigonometry?”

“Unless I want to be a dishwasher the rest of my life I need to take GCSEs…and I haven’t set foot in a Muggle school since I was ten.”

Mark picked up Rose’s basket and stepped into the alleyway. Harry leapt up.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Get your things. You can share my flat until you get your feet on the ground…If anyone finds you’re living here…Child Welfare will take Rosie away.”

~*~*~*
Lord Voldemort’s hand tightened in Severus’ hair, forcing the Potion Master to look up at him. He met the crimson stare calmly.

“Severus…do you have any idea where Malfoy’s pet might have gone?”

~*~*~*~*
Harry’s knees shook as he exited the bathroom, both from the bone-chilling cold and the shock of discovery. He stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers; all the rest of his clothing was hanging to dry over the shower rod, damp from the long walk in the snow.

Mark fashioned a bed for Rose from one of his dresser drawers; he thought she looked too cramped in the basket. She was sleeping peacefully in the corner of his studio apartment close to the hot water radiator. There was only a sofa bed in the apartment; Mark was already under the covers, his dark eyes heavy with sleep. He lifted the corner of the duvet.

“Come to bed, Em.”

“Er…” Harry looked around for another place to sleep, but there was only an uncomfortable looking side chair. He and Mark had never discussed payment on his half of the rent. If Mark wanted to take it out “in trade”, Harry was really in no position to argue. Harry glanced uncomfortably at the bed.

Mark laughed. “Get in bed where it’s warm…even if I wanted to jump your skinny, little arse, it’s too fucking late…We both have work tomorrow,”

Exhaling a breath, Harry climbed into the bed, turning off the bedside lamp. He stiffened when Mark pulled him into a warm embrace and ran his hands up and down his arms. The large man breathed deeply into his ear.

“Relax. Just trying to warm you up…you’re freezing.”

Harry settled into the comfortable arms, relaxing when the hands did not explore further. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the warm comfort of another’s arms.

“There are no strings to the room, Harry.” Mark spoke seriously into the darkness. “You’re much too young and you’re not my type.”

“Not into men?”

“Didn’t say that. I’m equal opportunity…but when I’m with a bloke, I like it hard and rough…I don’t sense that’s a game you’re really into…and even if you were…You’re built too small for me. I’d be afraid I’d tear you apart.”

~*~*~**~