FOR SERVICES RENDERED

A/N this chapter just about brings this story to an end. There is one more chapter after this, an epilogue. It just needs a teeny bit more tweeking and then it will be up too, probably tomorrow. I hope you have enjoyed my little story, I have enjoyed writing it and learned a lot along the way. Thanks to my dear friends Kim and TQA who have helped me and supported me and thanks to you for reading and reviewing. ~ Lucie


Chapter Forty-Five

It was the end of August. In a few short days, the Hogwarts Express would arrive, bringing a horde of children back to the school. Severus was dreading it in a way - the last two months had been sheer bliss for him, finally; he was settled, he knew, and truly happy at last.

He was on his way down to the quidditch pitch to see Farid; his lover was practicing flying techniques with Ron and Draco. Severus grinned, he loved being able to say those words, ‘my lover.’ He wanted to see his boy, walk him home; they had not been together all day. Severus had been busy; he had several potions to brew and classrooms to get in order. There had been a staff meeting that morning to discuss various matters and Severus knew that the long lazy days of the summer holidays were coming to an end.

Farid was much better. He was still weak, and would be for sometime. He had been so ill for so long but each day now he seemed a little stronger, a little more capable and Severus could not be more proud.

He had arranged for dinner to be served in his quarters for all of them: Ron and Seamus, Hermione and Draco, Neville and Pansy. They were all staying for a couple of days before the start of the autumn term and Severus found he was quite pleased to see them. Each of them was starting work soon and they would not be around much and he knew that Farid loved to see his friends. Farid would not start his new job for a few months yet; he had been selected to play Quidditch for the Pride of Portree - they had approached him at the end of the summer term. Farid had not, of course, flown again for some time after the battle with Voldemort, but a scout had apparently attended the match at which he had beaten Draco Malfoy so easily and had never forgotten Farid’s skill on a broom.

So in July, just before his birthday, Farid had gone with Sirius to trial for the team. According to a very exuberant Black, Farid had wowed them all, flying rings around seasoned, professional players, even in his weakened state. So now Farid was looking forward to his future as a seeker for one of the best teams in the league and Severus was proud of him.

Once other clubs had realised that Farid was available, several more had approached him, but he had turned them all down in favour of Portree. It was so close after all and Farid would be home each night and for him, being near his Sev, was the most important thing of all.

They saw so little of Sirius Black these days; he was a very busy man. He had taken on the guardianship of the “Potter Children,” as the de-aged Death Eaters were known. He and Adrian Barnard had grown very close during the months when Farid was convalescing. Adrian was good for Sirius; he kept him in order, calmed him down when he went rushing off on one of his wilder schemes and helped him grow closer to Farid. Adrian seemed to understand the boy almost better than anyone. He had never forgotten his first meeting with the young man or how impressed he had been with Farid’s spirit and bravery.

And the American wizard was very impressed with Farid’s solution for dealing with the ex-Death Eaters. He felt that the majority of them had been led astray, had been brought up with prejudice and hatred and needed to be shown another way of thinking.

Sirius wanted to help the children because he had not been able to help or rescue Harry, or his own brother Regulus, for that matter, who was lost to Voldemort long before Harry was even born. So he had bought a large house in the country and roped in an army of support, including house-elves, Remus and Muggleborn Hermione Granger, who was happy to teach these children about her world. Maybe this time, the children who had been raised in an atmosphere of distrust and lies would learn a very different viewpoint would grow up in a very different world.

The rest of the magical world was suspending judgement until the children were older, but most people seemed well disposed towards them; it had been the idea of their beloved Saviour after all.

Some of the children did have parents still around. Some wanted to raise their children again, but differently this time. Still others had children, who were now older than them, but who felt very differently about the world. Draco Malfoy took responsibility for raising Lucius, and Greg and Vincent also took responsibility for their respective fathers’ upbringing.

So Severus mused as he wandered down to the Quidditch stands. Hermione was there reading a book on child development by Lev Vygotsky; she had told Severus that she thought the man had some excellent ideas that would translate well to the magical world and the upbringing of so many children.

They sat for a while and talked as the sky grew darker and the three dots in the sky descended and finally landed just in front of them. Then, all at once, Severus found that he could not move: he was frozen to his seat. The others seemed similarly affected; in fact the only one of them who seemed still able to move was Farid.

It was dusk now - the evening was approaching rapidly and it was then that Severus saw a figure coming towards them all. He was tall and imposing, dark hair greying at the temples and darker eyes which seemed to pierce the very soul of a man; it was Farid’s erstwhile master, Yusuf.

Farid met this challenge like he met all challenges: he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and stared the vampire eye to eye.

“Vat do you vant?” he asked coldly, as the alpha vampire reached them.

Yusuf stopped in front of him and put out a hand to touch Farid’s hair; Farid slapped it away.

Yusuf chuckled.

“Little one, you do not change, huh? You still have the lion’s heart, no?” Farid did not answer; he merely narrowed his eyes and shot Yusuf a look that would have made Severus flinch had he been able to move. He was desperately trying to break the spell, but with no success.

“I am leaving Europe, little one,” Yusuf was saying in modulated tones, “I have come to ask you to join me, to come with me. I have not been able to forget you and I know I never will.” He smiled, looking into Farid’s eyes. “I was wrong to change them, your eyes,” he continued. “They are so much more arousing in their original colour; if I had left them as they are perhaps you would not have been able to hide from me, huh?

“I should have known how powerful you were; I tried so hard to break you, and yet I never did. This is why I gave you to your English Wizard - I could not bear to see my little toy killed, drained of that delicious life that fills you to the brim.”

But Farid had had enough. “Listen, Yusuf,” he said quietly. His accent had improved beyond all recognition in recent months, but it was still in evidence, especially when he got annoyed. “Vhy don’t you just piss off! Because I do not vant to see you, release my friends and my lover and crawl back under jour stone!”

Yusuf threw back his head and laughed, “You have such spirit little one, you captured my heart; did you know this?” All at once there was a deep sadness in his eyes. “Do you know how lonely eternity is, little one? Come and share it with me? You will have such power, undreamed of power, all the magic that you have running through you, with no morals, no conscience to stop you, just think what we could do. I will turn your friends too, if you want me too. I will give you anything that you desire. I kept away the dark creatures from your battle with the half blood who wanted to be immortal. The dementors I could not stop, but the others do as I say; all dark creatures do.

“I have lived a long time, little one; eight hundred years as ‘Yusuf.’ Before that I had many names: Lucifer, Osiris, Mithras. For generations of men, I have witnessed their history, drank from their throats, revelled in their submission, but you, you little one are different, you are well named I think, you are truly unique. The others, so many others, they are to me like dreams that pass quickly, few have I remembered: Alexander, Caligula, Caesar. Each of them gave me many rewards; Temüjin brought me armies on which to feast. I have been there for the darkest days of your history and revelled in the blood of the insects known as mankind. They are of no value, men, but you, little one, are different; never, never in all of my long, long life have I met anyone quite like you.”

Farid regarded him steadily. “You vill not get near me, Yusuf. I am an adult now, not a small child; I will tear out my weins with my teeth rather than let you near me. Leave now vhilst you still can; if I ever meet you again I vill kill you.”

The vampire’s face grew grave. “I know you would say this, my Farid, I know that I have no chance, but I not forgive myself if I not try. I just wanted one more taste of that special potent blood of yours; I have never tasted anything like it before or since. I miss it, I miss you, you spoil me for ordinary blood now.

“I will go far away now. There are plenty of places where I can live on the misery of others; long has it been so, long will it remain so. But you and your children and the children of your friends, they will be safe from me and my kin. The blood that flows in your veins has been flavoured by my blood; those that belong to me, they will know you and you will never be harmed. Live long little one, be happy.”

He took Farid’s hand in his and brought in gently to his lips, and this time Farid did not pull away.

“Farewell, sweet slave. I love you dearly.”

Then he was gone, as if he had never been, and all of them could move again.

Severus rushed forward and pulled his lover into his arms; Farid was trembling violently.

“Fucking Hell,” Ron said, “I have never been so scared in all my life, even Voldemort wasn’t as scary as him. It is just as well he froze all of me or I might have shit myself. How the fuck did you survive him, Farid?”

But Farid was laughing. What Severus had taken to be fear, was in fact Farid stifling his giggles and finally when Ron said this, Farid let go his mirth. He laughed and he laughed, whilst the others looked on in astonishment.

“He is not so scary anymore,” Farid said when he had finally stopped laughing. “He is ze bogeyman, he is no longer able to hurt me; I am not frightened any more. I am still veak or I could have killed him, zis he knew I zink. Zis is vhy he come now, when I not quite strong. He was in my nightmares for so long, but not anymore, for me he is dead, and one day when I am full grown I vill find him and kill him perhaps.”

As he said this, his power, which had indeed been weakened by his battle with Voldemort, crackled around him and Severus knew that they were all reminded about how magically strong this young man was.

Yusuf had the right of it; if Farid had been turned, he would have been powerful beyond belief. He was cunning and calculating, charming and bright and the world would not have stood a chance. But, thanks to the determination and bravery of one damaged little boy who should not have survived, Armageddon had not occurred, the world was safe and an ancient evil had been turned away, for now at least.

Severus shuddered and took Farid’s hand. “Shall we go in for dinner, love?” he asked, looking lovingly into Farid’s eyes.

Farid smiled and nodded, together they led the way. Behind them Severus could hear the others discussing the strange encounter. “I am bloody glad that the bastard kept away from me,” Ron was saying, “I couldn’t have coped. Merlin, if he’d asked me to follow him right then and there I’d have said, ‘Yes sir, where do you want me?’ And our Farid put up with him for years.

“Just one thing is puzzling me, though,” he continued. “Who on Earth was Temüjin?”

Draco answered this time. “Temüjin was the real name of Ghengis Khan,” he told the other boy.

“Oh, who was he then? Some well known Muggle, I suppose?” Ron asked in return.

Finally Hermione’s voice loud and clear always as they made their way to the castle and home.

“Oh Ron, you are hopeless! But I do love you.” Then the sound of Draco making fake retching noises drifted up on the evening breeze.