FOR SERVICES RENDERED

A/N. Farid is healing and this chapter shows the beginning of that, it will get better I promise and there will be happiness ahead for them both. It is safe to read this chapter but you may need a box of tissues! . Thanks as always to Kim who has been amazing this weekend with her mega quick betaing, and of course to TQA


Chapter Thirty-Five

When he next awoke, Severus thought it was probably morning. The dull grey light seeping into the room made it seem that way, anyhow. Farid was still cuddled against him. He was obviously dreaming, since his eyes were moving rapidly behind their lids and occasionally he would mutter to himself and frown. Severus eased himself off the bed and wandered into the bathroom.

He finished his ablutions quickly, but he decided to leave Farid for a little while; maybe a pressing need to go to the loo would wake him up at last? Severus could always spell him later if he had to.

It was Remus Lupin waiting on the other side of the door this time, and he rose to greet Severus as soon as he entered the ever more crowded sitting-room. Hundreds more gifts seemed to have arrived during the night, including what seemed to be a large crate of Puffskeins, which Severus studiously ignored.

“How are you today, Severus?” Lupin asked, a look of concern etched on his features.

“I have been better,” Severus replied, “but it is not me I am worried about. Have you any idea what they gave to Farid?”

“Draco and Hermione had a look at a sample of potion that they found. Nott and his friends were very careless. They seem to have left plenty of evidence lying around. It seems to have been some sort of memory potion that they dosed him with, so Hermione thinks, but Draco said he thought it had been botched.”

Severus closed his eyes. “If it was brewed by Nott then it was almost certainly botched, that boy was always useless at potions. I need to have a look at the ingredients myself, Remus, because a memory potion should not knock him out like this, not for so long.”

“Maybe later then,” Remus said, “because right now you need to have some breakfast and there are quite a few people eager to see you both.” Severus could not quite believe that. He thought there were probably quite a few people eager to see Farid, but Severus felt thoroughly ashamed of himself and his actions, and wasn’t sure that he wanted to face anyone right now.

“I think they need reassurance,” Remus was continuing. “Quite a lot of the children were worried that the bond might have been affected by what happened to Farid. They thought he might belong to Nott now, but I assured them that that was not the case.”

Severus felt weak. That possibility had not occurred to him, but suddenly it did and he found that all at once he had to sit down. “W…w..why,” he stuttered, “why isn’t it the case?”

Remus put a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Severus,” he said kindly. “The bond is quite strong. You told me that Farid had had to um, entertain a large number of men over the years. If there had been any risk of the bond transferring then he could not have done that.

“Technically, every time Farid had to go with someone it would have been rape, because it was surely never Farid’s choice. In order for the bond to transfer, he would have to either have to be given away by his Master, as Yusuf did with you, or the slave would have to be taken by force and that would mean that whoever did the taking would have to be a stronger wizard than the original Master in order to overcome the bond.

“I don’t think any of us are strong enough to take Farid from you, Severus, apart from Albus and erm….” He didn’t say the name but Severus knew who he meant: Albus and Voldemort. He thought that he would rather kill Farid himself than ever have him owned by Voldemort. If Yusuf was bad, the Dark Lord was indeed the stuff of nightmares.

“This fucking bond is destroying us, Remus,” he said quietly. “Last night I was blind with rage and jealousy, though that is no excuse. I drank so much! I always promised myself that I would never drink, not after… not when my father was the way he was. How can I face him when he does wake up? He thinks that I gave him away, which is bad enough, but then, but then, when he was obviously hurting. I hit him and sent him away. How could I have done that? I nearly lost him, Remus!”

Severus was close to tears again, but Remus was no longer looking at him. Instead his eyes were locked on a petite figure standing in the doorway.

When Severus had bathed Farid the day before, he had dressed him too. The boy wore one of Severus’ nightshirts, just as he had before when he had been unwell. It was far too big for him and hung off his small frame, exposing one shoulder and almost reaching the floor. He looked small and fragile and very young.

“Masteerr?” Farid said.

The boy’s eyes were wide as he absorbed the presence of all the peculiar objects that surrounded them, objects which seemed to have doubled in number since the night before.

“It is alright, Farid,” Severus said, “Come here. nothing in the room will hurt you.” Farid did as he was told, but, as he reached Severus, he did something that he had not done for a long time; he started to kneel.

“No, darling,” Severus said, grabbing him before he reached the floor, “come and sit beside me, no kneeling, you don’t have to kneel.” The large green eyes that looked at Severus then, almost caused him to weep; so uncertain, so lost was the expression that they portrayed.

Once the boy was seated, Severus turned him so that he could see his face. “I am so sorry, my own,” he said his voice cracking with emotion, “I am so sorry for what I did. Can you ever forgive me?” But the look that the boy gave him showed none of the warm laughter that was normally there, none of the love. He merely looked bewildered, bewildered and a little lost.

It was Remus who spoke to him then. Severus felt that he could not speak.

“Farid,” he said kindly, “do you know who I am?”

Farid looked even more bewildered at that. “Jes sir, dyou are Remoos Lupin, my Master’s friend.” Remus looked stricken now, though whether because he was unsure what to say next, or because Farid had described him as Severus’ friend and not his own, Severus did not know.

Lupin was carrying on, though. “Farid, we think you were given a memory potion. Can you remember what happened before you went to sleep?”

Farid hung his head, a fat tear fell onto his lap and he nodded sadly.

“Jes,” he whispered. He peered at Severus through his long black lashes and Severus said, “Tell him, Farid.”

Obediently, the boy began to speak in a sad little monotone. “I vas a bad slave and Masteerr vas wery cross, so he gave me to Nott, to make punish. He shouted zat I am bad and Nott and the ozer boys, they give me potion and then I not remember, but Masteerr still cross and che say I cham whore and slut and so do the boys, and they tell me to take clothes off and then I not know.”

Severus felt as if he had been gutted. Someone had taken his heart from his chest whilst it was still beating, and stomped it underfoot, so bad was the pain. He thought he was going to die.

“Farid,” he said quietly, desperately, “Listen my love, please listen. You were not bad; you were not bad at all. I was silly, drunk. But I did not give you away. I promise you that. I would not do that, never do that. Do you understand?”

The boy nodded, but said nothing.

“Farid,” Remus said, “you still think that you were given away, don’t you?”

This time, when the boy looked up, his eyes showed real fear, and this time he was shaking his head. “No!” he said, “No. Masteerr is right, vatever Masteerr say! Masteerr know best.”

Severus wrapped his arms about Farid, wishing that he would snuggle in as he usually did. The boy did not resist him, but neither did he melt into Severus’ embrace. Instead he just sat there, compliant, and unresisting.

“How did they tell you my wishes, these boys?” Severus said calmly. Once again Farid looked up with enormous eyes.

“Zey read me dour letter, Masteerr. It vas handwriting and I cannot read handwriting and zen,” Here Farid gulped, obviously trying to overcome the emotions that were threatening to swamp him, “Zen zey use the word, that make me hard, zey zay zat dyou zay it to zem.”

Severus had suspected this, from the story that he had been told the day before. The boy had been tricked; they had used his weaknesses, and Severus’ weaknesses, against Farid. They had waited for the right opportunity and had seized it when it came.

Severus thought that this was not the proper time for this, that the boy should have a bath and be eating some breakfast right now, resting. He had done terrible things to Farid, he knew that he had. But he had not done this. He had not given him away and could not bear for him to think that Severus had given him away, would ever give him away. He could not allow it, not even for another moment.

He held his boy tight against him, stroking his hair and making idle circles on his back.

“I am not cross with you, Farid. You did no wrong. But those boys, they lied to you. I do not know how Nott came to know your word, but I did not tell him. I would never do that. It was my writing, I am sure, but it did not say that you should go with them. I would never share you with anyone. Not like Yusuf.

“Do you understand? Not like Yusuf?”

Farid looked totally confused, but he repeated after Severus.

“Not like Yusuf.”

“I love you, my darling,” Severus was continuing, “I love you with all of my heart. I am so sorry about last night, so sorry that I hurt you, do you understand? Please forgive me, Farid. Please forgive me?”

He had Farid pressed against his chest now and was rocking back and forth, muttering to himself, “I am sorry, so sorry,” over and over again. Finally Farid put one of his hands on Severus’ arm. “It okay, Masteerr,” he said, “It vill be okay.”

And at those gentle words, Severus was undone, and he began to sob in earnest. Farid slipped his arm around Severus’ back and started to pet him, albeit somewhat ineffectually.

“It okay, Masteerr. It okay.”

Farid was asleep again. Severus had finally calmed down enough to realise that, once again, Farid was comforting him when it should have been the other way around. The boy had awoken, bewildered and groggy from the potion and then Severus had proceeded to cry all over him once again, forcing Farid to console him.

Whilst Remus had looked on worried and confused.

It had been the werewolf who had finally told Severus to control himself and sent Farid off to wash and change. Remus had ordered breakfast and had sat beside them, pointing out some of the gifts and toys that had been sent to them both over the last two days. Farid had perched on his chair between the two of them, and eaten when told to, and looked at everything he was asked to look at, and even smiled once or twice if he thought he needed to.

But it seemed to Severus, that it was almost as if Farid were absent, playing the part of dutiful slave as he had done so many times before.

Once, when Severus was a little boy, he had been to visit a friend of his mother’s. She was a Muggle and lived in a house with a reinforced glass window. The thick patterned glass of the window was supported by wire mesh. And one day someone kicked a football and shattered the glass, but the mesh held it together even though it was cracked and broken. Severus was very frightened that Farid was like that window. He had been broken into lots of little pieces, which he was somehow holding together. His eyes were too bright, his smile was brittle and his hands shook when he tried to feed himself.

Later, when the other students came to see him, he was welcoming as always and polite, if a little subdued, but he was the only one to go up to Draco and touch his bruised cheek, to notice that Draco too had been battered.

“Poor Draco,” he had said, “Are dyou still sore?”

And Severus realised with a jolt that Farid had not stayed late at any party, had he? He had stayed to help a friend. Had rescued him after a beating and remained with him, risking Severus’ own anger so that he would not be alone. For that act of kindness and compassion, he had paid a very heavy price indeed.

Farid patted Draco on the arm gently, but he did not hug him like he would have done just a few days before. He constantly checked with Severus to see what his Master was doing, how he was reacting. There was something not quite right, he was too distant, too detached. It was almost as if Farid was an actor, playing himself in the story of his life.

Then Severus took Farid and Remus with him into his potions lab to analyse the sample that he had been given. Farid, his eyes heavy with sleep once more, had curled up on the battered old sofa and fallen asleep. Severus worked on, showing Remus his findings; he was far more comfortable, he knew, researching the ingredients that Farid had been dosed with, than comforting the boy or confronting his own emotional outburst.

“He used too much bi-corn horn, see,” Severus said, “and mixed with the comfrey and the willow-bark, it is acting as a soporific. I don’t think that the memory potion itself was very effective. I surmise that it will wear off over the next few days. Farid will probably have nightmares and flashbacks,” he commented with a pang, because if the potion had been effective then Farid would not have remembered Severus’ words, or his violent behaviour. And more importantly, he would not have had to remember what had been done to him this time by violent fools just using his body for their own pleasure.

The room was quiet; Remus was looking up the ingredients of the potion in a book about soporifics, the fire burned merrily in the grate, Brahms was playing quietly on the gramophone, when all of a sudden Farid sat bolt upright on the sofa. His eyes were wide and staring, like he could not see what was truly in front of him, the comforting scene in the lab. Instead, he was blind to his surroundings, and fixated instead on some nightmarish scene. His breathing was shallow and rapid. His hands extended, trying to hold off whatever was coming for him. Remus rushed over and gently laid a hand on Farid’s shoulder and the boy flinched violently and began to scream.

And this time, Severus held him, whilst Farid screamed and pleaded and battered him repeatedly with his fists. Whilst delicate glass vials and instruments exploded and smashed all around him and books flew from the shelves. Until, finally, he was awake enough to be cuddled like a small child whilst he wept, as Severus stroked his hair once more and agreed with him that it was not fair and that he did not deserve what had happened to him, not just this time but ever before. Farid was a good person, he had always been a good person and he deserved to be loved and cherished, not beaten and abused. He had never deserved that, but he had never said this before, either. He had taken everything that life had thrown at him and never asked why me?

But this time he did. This time, he howled his grief and his pain to the Heavens and to Severus, and Severus held him and loved him and promised that he would never, ever leave. And this time Farid believed him, truly believed him and maybe, perhaps, he began to heal, just a little bit.

This time, when Severus held him, he did melt into his Master, just like he always used to do. He snuggled close and held Severus’ robes tight in his fist and this time, he seemed just a little more like his usual self. And Severus dared to hope that, eventually, things might be all right again for him and for Farid. Maybe, perhaps, one day soon.