FOR SERVICES RENDERED

A/N Sorry about the delay in getting this chapter posted but RL has been very hectic over the holidays and I needed to finish a one shot for HP_thematic (it's called a funny kind of hero and is posted under my user name if you want to read it). But I am back to normal life now and aiming for my usual two chapters a week update.

Thanks to everyone for their kind reviews and to Kim and TQA for betaing.



Chapter Thirty

The next few weeks were the busiest that Severus could remember, at least as far as Farid was concerned. Some days he hardly saw the boy, and that was hard for him to deal with. He missed him desperately at times and often sought comfort in the company of Remus. He was truly beginning to build a friendship with the werewolf and regretting the years when he had kept the man at a distance because of the fear of what he was. Remus was erudite, wise and dryly funny. As Farid seemed ever more occupied with his classmates and developing his new found friendship with Sirius Black, Remus helped Severus deal with his loneliness and his jealousy; a jealousy that Severus found ever more invasive.

He wanted Farid to build a life outside of the slavery that was all the boy had known. He wanted him to have friendships with children his own age. He had forcibly tamped down the negative emotions that he felt when he saw Farid interacting with others, but with Black it was so much harder. Because, even though the man had been almost an ally in recent weeks, Severus simply did not like him. He knew that he never would. There was just too much enmity between them. Until recently, Farid had shown the same distrust of Black that Severus had always felt, and Black had tried numerous ways to reach the boy without success. But then Black had seen Farid fly.

The first time Black watched the boy take to the air, he was enraptured. He ran through the school shouting for Albus and Lupin as if Cerberus himself were on his heels.

He had dragged half of Hogwarts outside to see the spectacle that Farid made, including most of the ghosts and an assortment of House Elves. But Severus had seen Farid fly before and knew that his boy was, on that particular day, not even trying very hard. He was just lazily making idle circles, occasionally plunging to the ground then soaring straight and true back up into the blue autumn sky. Severus loved to watch Farid fly. He did not think that there was a wizard anywhere in the magical world that would not be moved by the sight of his boy in the air, but Black was almost incoherent with delight and it had not taken Severus very long to work out why that was.

He and Lupin had discussed it many times.

Farid, and everything that he was, simply hurt the man too much. He would never be able to accept the boy for what he was, what he had been, Severus thought. Black would never forgive himself for not rescuing the boy sooner and he seemed unable to recognise the qualities in Farid that everyone else saw so clearly. Outwardly, Farid was too childlike, too feminine for Black, but Black was wrong. Farid did display a childlike innocence which was very disarming but he was, Severus knew, a master manipulator. The boy had even won over the cynical, world-weary media of the wizarding world; not an easy task, as Fudge had recently found to his cost.

Certain behaviour patterns, that Farid had been trained to display to the world, also made him seem much weaker than he was. Again, this had been a survival tactic for the boy. He had hidden in plain sight for most of his life, allowing the vampires to see what they wanted to see: a weak, submissive slave. Severus knew that Farid was not truly like that with anyone, not even his Master, really. But Severus had been to the vampire stronghold. He had seen the cruel environment in which Farid had survived, overcome. He knew how brave the boy was, and loved and admired his lionhearted man-child.

Farid’s skill on a broom was the one thing that Black could latch on to that he could understand and share with the boy. He spent hours showing Farid books on Quidditch, and reading passages to him (because although Farid’s reading skills were developing fairly rapidly he still had a long way to go), or describing games that Black and James Potter had taken part in years ago and Farid was enchanted. He got to hear about his father when he was a boy. He got training on Quidditch moves. But never ever, as far as Severus could see, did the pair of them discuss emotions, or how either of them felt about things. Because Black just couldn’t bring himself to even think about all the stuff that was churning around inside him, and Farid would have felt completely overwhelmed by Black’s grief, just like he had that day in Albus’ office.

Severus even felt sorry for the man. He had seen how close to breaking down Black had been when they had visited the Dursleys together, but he could not seem to overcome the envy that was becoming ever more apparent to him and, he suspected, to Farid, every time the boy spent more than a few minutes in Black’s company.

He watched them together right now. He was sitting at the honey coloured oval table in Remus’ rooms at the window that overlooked the Quidditch pitch. Even from here he could tell that Black was clowning about, entertaining Farid and his friends, even from here he could see that the boy was laughing. Whilst periodically Farid did look over to the window at which Severus stood, he made no move to return as yet.

Severus’ body language must have made it apparent to his companion how he was feeling; his fists clenching and unclenching, the muscle tightening in his jaw. Or maybe the werewolf’s senses were just stronger than most wizards, because Severus could almost see the sympathy rolling off the man in waves. He watched the werewolf pour them a whiskey each and then he turned his attention back to Farid.

“He loves you Severus, you do know that?” Remus said, coming up behind him and standing alongside, gesturing towards the distant figures on the field below. “And this is the only way that Sirius can possibly get close to Farid. You do know that, don’t you?”

Severus nodded tightly. “Yes, I want him to know Black. You and he are all that the boy has left of his parents. But I can’t help how I feel. I have hated you both for so many years, and….and sharing Farid is so hard, especially with him.”

Remus smiled, sat down at a nearby chair and handed Severus the glass of Talisker* he had gone to fetch. “I think you are a remarkable man Severus, have I told you that?” he said. “We all hated each other for years, fools that we were. The fact that we have overcome this is mainly down to you. Don’t think that I don’t appreciate it. We are both in your debt.

I see what Sirius doesn’t seem to understand about Farid: How truly unique he is. That is what the name means, isn’t it Severus?”

“Yes,” Severus answered, “Yes, it does. I don’t call him ‘Harry’, ever.” He smiled wryly. “Nobody does, except Dumbledore, or Black, or sometimes you. I don’t even really think of him as Harry Potter most of the time, you know? I do know who he is. I know his importance to us all, his importance to both of you, but he is not who any of us expected him to be when we started looking, is he?”

Remus laughed. “He certainly isn’t! I think all of us expected a James clone. He does look a lot like his father, although his features are finer, more delicate somehow. But he is far more like Lily, isn’t he? That fire inside him, the thirst for knowledge he seems to have. His gentleness, the kindness, the generosity, the passion, they all come from Lily too. Sirius never really knew her, not like we did, so he does not see that Farid shares many of his mother’s qualities. He and James spent too many of their school days running around being their idea of macho, getting in to all kinds of trouble. Neither of them had an introspective bone in their bodies!”

Their eyes met in understanding and Severus realised that this kinder, gentler Marauder had felt exasperated by his friends’ actions sometimes too.

“It is Farid who got us here, you realise, don’t you? Got you and me to a place where we can stand side by side and discuss the past like this,” Remus mused. “He truly is one of the most remarkable people I have ever met.”

Albus had arranged for the Defense Against the Darks Arts professor to give Farid exclusive tuition three times a week, and, in their own way, he and Farid had been building a relationship too. But somehow Severus did not mind this so much. He liked the werewolf, respected him and he would never have thought that he might admit to that even a few short months ago.

“It is not only his magic that is so strong,” Remus was continuing. “He has the most amazing spirit, the most generous soul.” He was staring at nothing and Severus wondered what had occurred between the two of them to make the werewolf so reflective. Farid had been in a tutorial just a short while earlier and something must have happened that had triggered such a statement, but if he kept quiet he knew that Remus would tell him, so he let the man continue.

“He knew about me Severus. He knew what I am. I hadn’t told him. I was scared he…..scared that he might reject me, and I couldn’t have borne that.”
Remus was looking at the floor as he spoke. He seemed almost reluctant to meet Severus’ eye.

“I thought at first that you had told him what I am but he said that you hadn’t, that he could see the wolf in me; he had known from the moment he saw me. He said I am Prime, Alpha and that I should embrace my destiny, not fight it. He said that it is the fighting that causes the pain each month, and, if I could accept myself, then the transformations would be much less traumatic. He knew about the pain, I do not know how, but he did. He said that the wolf is a noble animal and that there is no disgrace in nobility, that the wolf cannot deny its nature and that I should feel no shame.”

When Remus looked at him again his eyes were shining with tears.

“I have always felt dirty, you know, for all of my life, ever since I was a small child, transforming each month into a monster. But Farid, Farid said that I am no more a monster than any magical animal is. No more than a thestral, or a dragon,” Remus’ last word was almost a sob. “He said that if Wolfsbane allows me to keep my mind, then I should allow myself joy in my transformation just like any animagus does. He didn’t know that word, of course. He called it ‘shape changer’.

He said I should be more like Sirius and have good fun with my dog friend when the moon was full.

He knew, Severus. I didn’t tell him, he knew. He can look into someone’s eyes and see if they are an animagus. He thought everyone could. He knew that Sirius was a dog, Minerva a cat.” Remus chortled, “Did you know that Rita Skeeter is a beetle? I don’t think she is registered though.” He raised his eyebrows at Severus then, “Could be useful if she ever decided to start writing things about the boy that were less than complimentary. Albus, he isn’t registered either. He’s a bumblebee! I never knew, did you? That’s how he knows so much, being able to transform into such a small creature makes for a wonderful ability to spy, don’t you think? It was probably why he said nothing about the Marauders’ animagus transformations. He couldn’t really, could he?”

Severus was astonished. Just when he thought he knew everything about Farid, the boy seemed to produce something that still surprised him. And in all these years, he had never guessed about Albus. He looked forward to sharing his new knowledge with the headmaster sometime soon.

“His magic is so strange too,” Remus was continuing, “very powerful, but so very different from anything I have known before. He seems to have abilities that I have never heard of and he reacts to the magic around him in a way that is completely intuitive. I think he suppressed it when he was with his uncle. But later, when he knew that the vampires prized magical ability, he let it grow, but played with it, experimented in secret, honed his skills. He didn’t know what the rules were, so it developed on its own in ways that none of us ever expected. It makes me wonder what he would have been like if he had grown up with James and Lily, if they had never died. Would he have been as powerful as this? As unexpected?”

“If he had grown up with the Potters, if he had not been taken, he would never have been with me.” Severus whispered. This was his darkest secret, his deepest shame. He knew that almost everyone else wished that things had been different for Harry Potter and he did too, well a bit of him did. But what had happened to the boy had transformed him into Farid and fate had then bound him to Severus, and Severus could not regret that. He rejoiced in their bond in the secret heart of himself, despite the occasional complication. Even if he did want the boy’s freedom someday, and he truly did, he could not regret how their relationship had come about, and he could hardly imagine how his life would be without Farid now, it was almost unthinkable.

“Do really think that, Severus?” Remus was asking kindly. “Who knows what might have happened? You are so good together. He loves you so much that maybe you were always meant to be together, somehow.

“You should not feel guilty you know, never feel guilty for what you feel, for what you have. He is what he is, and you have helped him become more free, allowed his spirit to shine brightly. You should have no shame for how you need him in your life. He has transformed you Severus, slowly but surely he is transforming us all, even Sirius. Maybe that is the greatest power he has? That, despite everything he has been through, or perhaps because of it, he embraces life, enjoys every moment of it with wonder and joy. He does appear weak to us I think sometimes, but really, really he is the strongest of us all.”

It was Severus who had been pensive after that. Remus was right; he was different now, kinder, less snarky. Unwittingly, Farid seemed to have transformed Hogwarts, and each and every one of them, for the better. Since his battle with Voldemort, even the Slytherins seemed to have accepted him, all apart from the odious Nott of course. Draco was once again welcome in the house of the snake, thanks to Farid’s temporary defeat of the Dark Lord. The war was far from over yet, but maybe at last a number of Slytherins could conceive of a different outcome from the one that they had feared.

His boy had not seemed to have noticed how separate the houses once were, how divided. He had taken Severus’ advice in his first days at Hogwarts and made friends with just about everyone he met. He simply expected everyone to get on with each other, for there to be no rivalry, no hatred and somehow this was working. The divisions were fast disappearing and the rest of the school was following the lead of its oldest students.

There had been much more mixing in recent weeks between the children, since Draco’s unexpected adoption by Gryffindor House. Zabini had started going out with Lavender Brown, Pansy was seeing Ernie MacMillan, and Daphne Greengrass seemed to have struck up friendships with the Patil twins and with Hermione Granger. Even Ron Weasley, another archetypal Gryffindor had shaken off the anger, the hatred of Slytherins that had once marred his personality and, possibly inspired by his new found friendship with Draco, had subsequently struck up a friendship with Vincent Crabbe, who apparently shared a love of chess with the red haired boy.

All of this, each change, was due to Farid, and the boy had become a favourite with everyone, something he seemed to be blissfully ignorant of but which Severus simultaneously rejoiced in and disliked, because he was proud of the boy and yet really did not want to share Farid with anyone at all.

But his talks with Remus helped. As did his private evenings alone with his boy. Every evening now, after dinner in the Great Hall, Severus would sit with Farid curled against him on the big sofa in the sitting room and they would look at the Daily Prophet together. Recently there had been a lot in the publication to interest them both.

The day after Farid had met with the journalists there were lots of florid articles about his boy and what he had suffered. There were a number of items about Fudge too. One or two of these hinted about certain ‘physical problems’, which may have caused Fudge to be less than effective as Minister. Fudge had been incandescent with rage when these comments had appeared and had stormed into Albus’ office accusing him of repeating Farid’s words. None of them had been able to understand how Farid’s statement had been leaked, but his new knowledge of Skeeter’s animagus form gave Severus a good idea of how the ‘leak’ came about. He smirked to himself, promising to have a little chat with lady in question as soon as he could.

Fudge had not been happy anyway, since the press had given him a hard time about his attitude towards Severus and grilled him about Farid’s Muggle relatives and the situation in Kazakhstan. Day after day there were photos of the Dursleys running from various locations, huddled under blankets, trying to avoid the magical circus that seemed to follow them around the world, and there were various rumours circulating that the family may well have to face prosecution for endangerment. The Wizengamot were currently debating about whether or not Muggles could be sent to Azkaban.

The vampires in Kazakhstan had also decided to release their slaves. All captives had been freed and various magical governments around the world had come forward to put pressure on the clans to eschew the capture and killing of Muggles for food from now on, and to swear to only partake of donated or volunteered blood in line with vampire treaties elsewhere in the world.

An American news cameraman named Adrian Barnard was featured in various publications as a vanguard for the international pressure group that had been created. He was currently putting pressure on the British Magical Government to seek the extradition of a certain 800 year-old vampire known only as Yusuf, for the enslavement, torture and rape of a magical child. The vampire in question was currently at a location unknown.

Severus was truly impressed by the events that had taken place since Farid’s impromptu chat with the press. Neither of them could have any idea of the impact that his simple words would have, but Severus could not help being gleeful at the current traumas affecting the Dursleys. Farid was seemingly unconcerned by most of the articles. He had studied photos of his erstwhile family to see if they looked how he remembered and then lost interest. The photos of the freed slaves in Kazakhstan, however, were studied in detail and little squeals of delight issued whenever he recognized anyone. Severus was told the individual’s name and how Farid had known them. Many of the stories that he heard were as bad, if not worse, than Farid’s, and Severus was proud that his boy had been able to initiate the current changes.

There were, of course, no photographs of the vampires and the reading public had to settle for ‘artist’s sketches’. Severus got full descriptions of many of these characters as well, and learned far more than he ever thought he would need about vampires and their sexual proclivities. Farid had also started corresponding with his new friend Adrian. Severus helped him write the letters and then decipher the replies. Farid was getting better at reading the printed word now, at least if he took it slowly, but he was lost when he tried to read handwriting. But even if he could not read what was written, he could often recognise the writer just from a few words and always got excited when he recognised one of Adrian’s gossipy letters.

Severus told himself that he was just doing his bit to help the boy with his reading and writing, but in truth he loved Farid cuddling up beside him at the end of the day whilst they discussed developments and any other news items that interested them.

He also loved the fact that, before long, they always ended in bed, Severus never had to instruct the boy to feel pleasure any more, Farid seemed to become aroused just at Severus’ touch, sometimes even his proximity was enough. Now his only worry was that he could continue to satisfy his passionate, sensuous eighteen-year-old lover.
Right now, even with his occasional bouts of jealously, which he continued to battle and, despite Farid’s increasing popularity and business elsewhere, Severus was happier than he could ever remember being at any time in his life. Which, as he mused much later, was when he should have known things were about to go wrong.


* Talisker is a Malt whiskey which is brewed on the Isle of Skye.