Home Sweet Home ch.37 (Patreon)

Harry felt refreshed and oddly conflicted as he walked to Narcissa's dining room for breakfast. Daphne was still getting dressed—at least they had the sense not to go down together. Astoria was in her school uniform and gave him a secret wave when their eyes met briefly.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning, honey." His mother gave him a curious look. "I must have missed you a minute ago when I went upstairs."

He shrugged, not offering anything that might arouse her suspicion. "Good morning, Astoria."

"Good morning, Harry." She had a large stack of waffles on her plate, which she began cutting with a fork and knife. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," he replied.

He couldn’t help glancing at his mother. Bellatrix looked at him at the same moment, and the brief flicker of eye contact contained a strange warmth and power.

"You should hurry and grab a plate if you're hungry," she said. "We're leaving in a few minutes."

"We as..." He shook his head.

"Day two of community service. I hope you haven't forgotten already."

Harry groaned. He had forgotten, and the act of remembering almost ruined his day from the start.

"Community service?" Narcissa descended the stairs, still dressed in her sleeping robe, which was open enough at the chest to suggest cleavage. "What exactly did Harry do to end up having to repay a debt to society?"

Bellatrix looked at Harry, frowning.

"It's okay," he said. "I don't mind telling her. Minor shoplifting."

"Naughty boy." Narcissa's voice had an interesting purr that made Harry want to stay home that morning. "Don't tell me that's why you came to...?"

She trailed off, but he knew what she wanted to ask. After all, he had gone to her sex shop. Fortunately, his mother seemed to interpret the question differently.

"No, we're still waiting for the power to be restored," Bellatrix said. "I wouldn't force you to hide a fugitive, Narcissa."

"I don't think I'd mind," she said.

Harry ate a few waffles and then headed to the car with Astoria and their mother. He and Astoria tried to slip away ahead of her, wordlessly matching each other's pace to steal a moment of privacy. Bellatrix appeared before they could finish their flirting, and they set off for town. She dropped him off first, even though Astoria's school was practically around the corner from the church.

"I'll pick you up at the same time as yesterday, Harry," she said. "Do your best. You need Patrick's recommendation."

"I'm aware," he said. "See you later, Astoria."

"Bye, Harry."

He got out of the car and waved to them. More than anything, Harry regretted not taking his bike, just to keep the escape option technically viable if he and Father Patrick had an irreconcilable clash.

He entered the church but found it empty. One of the doors leading to the backyard was open, and he walked through it to find Father Patrick working in a flower bed, weeding and turning the soil.

"I'm back," he said. "Here for round two of community service."

"So you are." The priest put down his gardening trowel and wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of a dirty hand. "Today's task is gardening. You can handle this while I work on moving soil to the other flower bed."

"It's late autumn," Harry noted. "Doesn't seem like much point in planting them before the freezing winter."

"Think of it in the broader sense. Come spring, each box will still be well maintained."

"I suppose."

Father Patrick stood up with a groan and moved slowly. He tossed Harry a garden spade and headed toward the other flower box. Harry got down on his knees and started weeding, finding the work far simpler and more bearable than the children's party from the day before.

"Is this really community service?" he called out.

Father Patrick laughed from somewhere behind the church shed. "This is the community, and you are serving it. In your case, community service is what the Lord wills it to be. However, I do appreciate the change in attitude and..."

The priest's sentence was interrupted by a gasp of pain. Harry heard something hit the ground.

"Are you okay?" he called out.

"Just... Another groan came from the shed. "Unfortunate."

Harry wiped the dirt from his hands and hurried around the corner. Father Patrick was lying on the ground next to a spilled bag of potting soil. Harry crouched down to assess the damage.

"I think I twisted my ankle," Father Patrick said. "Can you help me up?"

"Yeah, lift a little."

He got an arm under the priest's shoulders and helped him inside. Beyond the main assembly hall, there was a cozy room where he settled Patrick behind a desk. The priest's forehead was sweaty and pale in a way that made Harry wonder if his ailment might be much worse than a supposed sprain.

"Thank you," Father Patrick mumbled. "Could you bring me some water?"

Harry looked around. "Mini fridge by the door."

He fetched a cold bottle of water and also found aspirin in the first aid kit, following Father Patrick's suggestion. He waited with the priest until he felt better.

"Thank you for your help, Harry."

"Don't worry about it. You're part of the community I'm supposed to serve."

Father Patrick made a noise of agreement. He took another sip of water, then studied Harry for a few seconds. There was an aspect in the old man's eyes that made Harry tense, not in a threatening way, but with the awareness that he was being directly seen.

"I want to ask you about your offense," Father Patrick said.

"Alright. Go ahead."

"What was your motivation?" Father Patrick asked. "Your mother gave me the details, but she wasn't sure what led you to misbehave."

"I was trying to... help someone." Harry hesitated, knowing he had to tread the line between truth and his cover story. "A girl."

"Good intentions are commendable, but what was the outcome?"

"Do you really need to ask? Obviously less good than the intentions, though I guess I wouldn't be here saving you from a twisted ankle if I hadn't messed up in the first place."

"Things have a way of working out as God intends." Father Patrick cast a thoughtful glance toward the corner of the room where the walls met the ceiling. "When I was a little younger than you are now, still a teenager, I also made a bad decision involving a girl."

The quality of the priest's voice piqued Harry's curiosity more than he expected. "How so?"

"She was my friend," Father Patrick said with a light chuckle. "She had nowhere to live. Bad home life. At that time, my parents weren't around much in the evenings, so I always let her come over when she needed."

"What happened?"

The priest opened his mouth but hesitated before making a big confession. "I got her pregnant."

"I see."

"She had an abortion." Father Patrick raised a hand as if cutting off a protest before it could start. "I'm not here to preach about the morality of such things. I know the world has changed a lot. The point is, for a sixteen-year-old girl and boy suddenly facing the consequences of their actions... it forces you to stop and think. To stop and ask yourself if doing the right thing is really right when you see it."

"I'm not sure our situations are as comparable as you think."

Even as Harry said it, he began to doubt himself. Maybe he hadn’t committed the theft, but he had taken the blame for Daphne. He still took her to his bed later that night. Was it any different with Astoria? He started pretending to be her boyfriend until hormones and inevitability pushed them further.

"You don't have to learn from the experiences of old-timers," Father Patrick said. "I didn't learn as often as I should have, even after joining the priesthood. But you have to listen to the lecture, if only to feel foolish when proven wrong."

Harry spent the next few hours working in the yard alone, which suited him, even though he found a kind of understanding with the old priest. Father Patrick gave him a break at lunchtime, ordering sandwiches and sodas for them both. They talked about gardening, avoiding the heavier discussions from earlier.

Bellatrix picked him up a little after three. Astoria was in the front seat, and they had a moment alone when their mother went into the church to talk to the priest about Harry's progress.

"How was your day?" Astoria asked.

"I think it went well," he replied. "Lots of weeding and spreading soil. And yours?"

"School sucked less than usual," Astoria said. "The usual bullies have been a lot milder the past few days."

"Probably scared if they mess with you, your wild boyfriend will mess up their phones or worse," he said.

Astoria laughed. "Ginny still doesn't have a replacement. She was pouting about it in math class."

"Well, tough luck for her."

Bellatrix came out a minute later and got into the car. "Father Patrick is impressed with your work ethic. I think he'll want to give you a strong recommendation when you're done."

"Yay," he said, not very enthusiastically.

"Daphne texted me," Astoria said. "She went to the gym and wants a ride back home."

"Let her know I'm on my way," Bellatrix said. "I guess she didn't realize Narcissa has at least as good a home gym as we do, if not better."

"In Narcissa's basement, there aren't any guys ogling her," Astoria said. "Except for Harry."

"That's not funny, Astoria," Bellatrix said, though she laughed at her son's expense.

Daphne was indeed dressed in workout gear that would undoubtedly have drawn a few hungry looks. She wore a sports bra with a tight, sleeveless top and leggings that emphasized the shape of her butt more than they protected it from impact and the elements.

Their mother pulled up to the curb, and Daphne hurried over, tossing her gym bag into the trunk."How's the community service going?" Daphne asked. "Hard work at the church isn't really your style, is it?"

"It wasn't hard work, nor was it in the church today," he replied. "I managed well enough."

"You can take the front seat, Daphne," Astoria said. "I'll sit in the back with Harry."

Harry noticed his mother frowning in the reflection of the rearview mirror. Was she suspicious? It was hard to tell for sure, but her eyes met his briefly before she looked away.

"I'm all sweaty, Harryy-kun," Daphne said. "You'll have to deal with my stinky pits until we get home."

"I can already smell them from here," he said, feeling oddly aroused. "Don't they have showers at the gym?"

"I can't shower in public," Daphne replied. "What if some weirdo decided to try and join me? There were definitely enough of them there today."

"Gross, Daphne," Astoria said.

Astoria shifted in her seat as if sensing the brewing sibling argument, and one of her legs brushed against Harry's. Father Patrick's story and warning came back to him. What would happen if things between him and Astoria, or him and Daphne, finally blew up? His mother had him doing community service at the church after he was caught shoplifting. What would she do in the face of incest among her children?

Harry reached out and placed his hand on Astoria's thigh, feeling her soft, athletic legs through her school skirt. He began sliding his hand upward, ignoring the risk, ignoring the danger, allowing himself to get lost in the beauty and body of his younger sister. His mother kept glancing in the rearview mirror, but moving his hand now would draw more attention than leaving it in place.

Astoria subtly parted her legs, and her hand joined his, helping him along. Harry let his fingers brush the edge of her panties, feeling the warm moisture of her arousal through the fabric. Astoria had her face turned mostly toward the window, her body angle masking what was happening.

He saw her then, in her school uniform, with her young, innocent face, and reality hit him like a ton of bricks. He couldn't keep fanning these flames, especially with their mother within sight. Slowly, reluctantly, he withdrew his hand. Astoria shot him a single pout, but that was the extent of her protest.

Soon enough, they arrived back at Narcissa's house. Harry went inside with his family, spending a minute washing the dirt off his hands, and then headed upstairs to plug in his phone. He paused in front of the door to the room he shared with his mother, realizing Narcissa was inside, standing by the guest bed.

She turned slowly and smiled at him. "I was wondering where this went."

He shook his head, not understanding at first until his eyes focused on the remote she held in her hand.

"It was in my bag," he said, his heart racing.

"Actually, it was on the floor. I thought it looked familiar when you first brought it into my shop, but I didn't know who you were then, and the brain always looks for those kinds of odd coincidences. But look—evidence."

She pressed a button on the remote and raised her other hand, revealing a small, pink vibrator with a thick head and a long, curved tail. It buzzed to life, and despite the circumstances, Harry felt a thrill of excitement at finally having an answer to a burning question.

He stepped into the room and slowly closed the door behind him.