FOR SERVICES RENDERED

Thanks kim and tqa for all your support and help this weekend.

Severus had just finished potions class with the Ravenclaw third years and he could not wait to get back to his rooms. He was longing for a cup of his favourite Earl Grey tea and a foot massage before the fire. Farid had initiated massages just a week or so earlier. Hermione had mentioned them and he had remembered that he used to do this for the men who came to Yusuf’s stronghold. He had offered to do it for his Master and it soon became one of the highlights of the day for Severus. Farid was incredibly skilled; Severus would take a hot bath first and then Farid would soothe away the aches and pains of living in a cold drafty castle.

Farid was teaching Severus to repay the favour for the times when Farid felt stiff and sore after Quidditch or intensive defence training, but Severus well knew that he had nowhere near Farid’s talent and was, instead, all fingers and thumbs.

Christmas had come and gone, 5 long weeks ago; weeks when the Scottish weather had done its worst and lashed Hogwarts with storms and kept the days short with black skies and driving rain. But, for Severus, things seemed brighter all the time.

Slowly but surely, Farid seemed to be getting better, stronger. Each day he laughed a little more, each day his eyes seemed a little less sad. Severus was not sure what the turning point had been. Whether it was the contract that Severus had given to Farid that made the difference, he wasn’t sure; whatever it was, it certainly seemed to allow Farid to be more forthright in his views! Perhaps it had been his confrontation of the boys who had raped him that made Farid feel more at ease, more able to make his own decisions. Perhaps it had been the arrival of Tariq, who was growing larger and more adventurous by the day and who kept them on their toes with his antics and his charm.

Then again, perhaps it had been Christmas. It was Farid’s first Christmas and he had woken each day in the week beforehand wide-eyed with wonderment. He had followed Hagrid around when the half-giant had brought in the Christmas trees, asking questions all the while. He had gone shopping with Hermione, clutching his vault key as if unsure what to do with it. Hermione had told him that there was a branch of Gringotts in Hogsmeade, and that any funds that Farid needed could be instantly transferred.

Severus would have liked to go with him, but he wanted Farid to know that he would not go back on his word. He had given Farid his own money and wanted no say on how the boy was to spend it. But he knew that Farid and Hermione had spent several of their reading lessons writing gift lists, one of which he had seen Farid secrete in his special box.

Then they had both spent an evening wrapping their presents for friends and writing cards. The huge sitting-room mantelpiece was more laden with seasonal well-wishes than Severus could ever remember and he mused over the miracle that had brought, not just Farid, but so much friendship and support into, what had previously been, a cold and rather pointless existence.

Farid had been happy enough though, to wave his friends off the day before Christmas Eve. Hardly anyone had stayed this year and Severus could not help rejoicing in the fact that, for much of the time, it was to be just him and Farid. So they had lots of sex, and cuddled in front of the fire, and went for long walks in the snow that fell heavily on Christmas Eve, almost as if someone had specially arranged it for Farid’s benefit.

Farid loved the snow. Yusuf had allowed him to play in it a few times when he was a child, since it had reminded him of his own childhood. Severus found himself building a snowman with his slave and three Hufflepuff first years and then he was buried under an enthusiastic volley of snowballs. He even made a snow angel, but only after swearing them all to secrecy first. The Hufflepuffs had watched their Professor with a certain amount of terror as he lay back against a snow bank and waved his arms back and forth to make the wing shape, but Farid had laughed and laughed.

But was Christmas day itself, that had really made things special for Severus. He had showered the boy with gifts, but he had almost seemed to draw more pleasure from giving than receiving. After all, he had never in his life before, been able to give a gift to anyone. Farid had bought presents for everyone he could think of, but for Severus there were loads of presents, all carefully wrapped in bright paper. The one that meant the most to him had been given last; it was a bottle of his favourite Talisker Whiskey, nestled in straw in a wooden box. It was tagged as being from Farid and the boy had carefully written four words in his very best hand writing: I trust you, Master. Severus had been speechless at the gift and had swept Farid into the bedroom to say thank you properly, leaving Tariq, carefully warded, playing amongst the paper and baubles.

Farid had loved Christmas dinner, laughed uproariously at the Christmas crackers, and spent ages inspecting the Christmassy images that chased each other around Albus’ gown. Sirius Black was there for the holidays too, and Severus was proud of himself when he stood watching Farid hug the animagus, thanking him for the Quidditch gloves that he had been given, and felt not even a pang of jealousy.

Day by day, bit-by-bit, the hold that the bond had on him seemed to be loosening and Severus, truly for the first time since Farid had come into his life, started to feel in control.

When the others had returned after the break, Severus had had to become used to seeing less of Farid again, since his defence training had been stepped up and he spent more time with Remus. Then, when Farid was flying, or off somewhere with his friends, they would sit together and watch the world go by at Remus’ window and talk about Farid’s latest accomplishments like a couple of proud old grannies.

He and Farid spent hours talking too. Severus told the boy things about himself that he had never told anyone else and Farid listened and never criticised and seemed to strive only to understand Severus more.

Severus also began to teach Farid Occlumency, advanced potion making and how to defemd against some of the very darkest curses. The strength of Farid’s magic, and his control of it seemed to grow on an almost daily basis. The boy was also the strongest Occlumens that he had ever met. He supposed that he had had to learn this skill in order to protect his secrets, but Farid even managed to keep Severus out of his mind, when this should not have been possible because of the strength of the bond.

Sometimes the boy still had panic attacks. Only a few days earlier, Lavender Brown had accidentally dropped a hairbrush from her bag and Farid had frozen at the sight of it until Hermione had vanished it away and brought Farid to Severus for comfort and support. The brush had caused a flashback and, when Farid had told him how his rapists had beaten him with a brush such as Lavender owned and had then shoved it inside him, Severus had had to use every ounce of control not to apparate directly to Azkaban and tear Nott’s arms off. It would do Farid no good if Severus ended up sharing a cell with his slave’s one time attackers. They would pay, those boys; he swore to himself that they would. But Severus was a Slytherin; he would wait for his revenge. They would suffer long and hard at his hands one day soon.

But at least the potion that they had dosed him with had had no permanent long term effect. Farid had suffered panic attacks, flashbacks and nightmares, but lately they were fewer all the time and the bright, shining personality that had first drawn Severus to Farid seemed ever more apparent.

Finally, he reached the last corridor before home; but, as he turned the corner, he could hear the most awful, tuneless, thumping noise. What in Merlin’s name was going on, he thought to himself, was Farid okay? He sped up and rushed to his rooms in case there was a problem, something he had to sort out. As he got closer he could hear laughing and giggling but only just. Above the sound of merriment, there was still this dreadful pounding cacophony. It didn’t sound like anyone was in pain or in danger, but he still wanted to know what was going on. So he crept closer to find out what the cause of such hilarity might be. But, as he opened the door to his rooms, the sight that met him caused him to step back in amazement.

Farid was dancing.

He was wearing his green silk pyjama bottoms which were skimming his hips, he was smiling at Seamus who was dancing alongside him, Farid’s arms were held high above his head showing the flat abdominal muscles that he had gained with months of flying and his nipple rings glinted in the diffused light. He was swaying his hips in time to the music, and Merlin could he move! Severus thought that Farid was completely delectable and utterly sexy. Utterly forgetting about his long awaited massage, Severus leaned back against the door jamb and watched.

Hermione and Ron danced around each other too, but in a rather more ungainly fashion and, in the background, Severus could see Luna, Pansy, Draco, Blaise, and a number of others bouncing about with vigour. Farid looked so beautiful and so very graceful that Severus felt a lump forming in his throat, but then Farid saw him and his smile widened.

Severus put on a mock glare. “What’s going on?” he asked as fiercely as he could manage. But Farid just came over to him and took Severus’ larger hands in his own slim ones. “Cwe are dancing Masteerr, come dance wiz oos!”

“And what exactly are you dancing to?” Severus asked, somewhat scathingly.

“Oh come on, sir,” Seamus said, “even you must recognise Britpop; you know sir, pop music. This is Blur.” Severus’ eyebrows rose almost to his hairline, “I am sorry, Mr Finnegan, but what exactly is blurred?”

As he was speaking, Farid had gently manoeuvred Severus into the middle of the room. The youngsters had pushed back the sofa and rolled up the carpet, just like young people did the world over and had done for generations; they were dancing, just for the joy of it.

And Farid was one of them; he was dancing with joy too.

His eyes were dancing also, alight with fun and mischief. Oh my darling, Severus thought to himself, you are back, my love. At last!

Farid wrapped his arms around Severus’ waist, resting them on his hips, placed his hands on his bottom and pulled Severus close so that he could gyrate his hips against Severus’ own. The music had slowed now, so Farid lowered his head until it rested on Severus’ chest. As they danced, Severus caught sight of some of the others watching him, but still they moved together, him and Farid, their hips mirroring each other, their feet following automatically. When one song finished they continued dancing to another and another. Finally, Severus looked up only to see himself being watched by Pansy.

“Something wrong, Miss Parkinson?” he asked.

“You are dancing, sir. I didn’t know that you could dance.” Severus grinned smugly.

“Oh indubitably, Miss Parkinson, I am a very good dancer!” He twirled round and then swung Farid in a dip, the boy squealed in delight. The next song was faster but Severus kept pace, he really did have rhythm, always had done.

The students were clapping at his and Farid’s performance now, because Farid seemed able to anticipate and echo Severus’ moves and together they danced well; in fact, they danced beautifully. The band had changed now, from Blur to Oasis, and despite his protesting, Severus had at least heard of the Gallagher brothers’ music. This song was particularly apt, he thought, Farid was his Wonderwall and always would be.

Slowly the others stopped dancing and instead just watched Severus and Farid, the music had sped up once again and Severus twirled. Farid let out another squeal of joy as Severus twirled him too, perhaps a little fast so that he stumbled slightly and Severus caught him. Then, all at once, Farid threw back his head and began to laugh; he was enjoying himself. Just for now, he was not thinking about the past or the future; he was doing what he had always been so good at, living for the moment.

The music stopped and Farid’s friends began to applaud. Farid turned to him and clapped too and all the time he was laughing. Severus made a mock bow, waving his arm about in a theatrical flourish, making all of them laugh just a little bit harder. Farid had been to hell and back many times in his life and yet he had survived. He was not undamaged by what had happened to him but he was living with it. Severus thought that there would be many days ahead when Farid would not cope well with life, but Farid was a survivor. He had chosen life and did not seem to be planning on giving up just yet. So, in celebration of this, he had decided to spend time with his friends and dance and laugh and Severus knew, just at that moment, that the music of Farid’s joy at being alive was the very best sound in all the world.