Chapter Text

01 | We've Only Begun

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Their eyes met over the long table, a request tugging through their bond. Harry nodded, circling towards the Lestrange brothers who were talking in hushed whispers their heads together, Rudolphus's wife eavesdropping right by them. Harry dropped his hood from his face, leaving his long hair flowing freely around his face. His heels snapped against the polished marble, Draco's steps silent behind him.

He stopped behind Bellatrix, her back stiffening in front of him. He set his hand on top of his head, bending down.

"It is rude to listen to private discussion, is it not?" he whispered to her ear.

"Yes, my Lord," she whimpered, lowering her head down.

"Good girl," Harry chirped, laughing internally at the gasp that left her mouth, before straightening up and moving to the brothers. "And you... Have we permitted you to talk about your mission in public? It is quite a delicate matter and not something to talk about in public, even within our Knights."

Both of the men snapped to look straight ahead, their shoulders almost in the ears.

"I'm sorry, my Lord. It won't happen again," Rudolphus said quickly. Harry quirked his eyebrows — not that they could see that their backs turned to him — and glanced at his husband who shook his head.

"See that it does not happen. You will be spared from punishment this time, but we will not be merciful next time," Harry told them, brushing both of their shoulders before taking a step back. He pulled his hood back on, hiding his face from everyone but Tom. He sensed Draco right behind him, always guarding and protecting him, not that he would truly need that.

"Thank you, my darling," Tom called out, and Harry stifled a laugh. Of course, Tom would never avoid showing people who he belonged to. "We have told you that we have spies among us, spies that we have not been able to identify just yet so be cautious. If the Order gets the information about your mission because you talked outside of required privacy wards, failing the mission is fully on you and you will be punished with a heavy hand afterwards — if you are alive."

The room was quiet, only the click of Harry's heels echoing from the walls. It was power, power that Harry drank greedily, knowing and feeling that Tom was doing the same. Everyone avoided their eyes, trying to keep their faces cast down to avoid any attention. They were idiots, thinking that it would be necessary. The closer Harry got, the stronger the tug in his chest turned, drawing their eyes only to each other, like magnets.

"Draco," Harry commanded, not interested in elaborating, but not even needing it, because Draco took his place on the right side of the table. Harry glanced at the other side of the room where possible supporting partners who didn't take an active part in their operations, were sitting around the group of couches, behind a privacy wall. Astoria Malfoy, née Greengrass, met his eyes her chin lifted up despite her mother tugging her sleeve. Harry smirked in the shadows of his hood, admiring her courage that rivalled many. He wouldn't jeopardise Draco's unwavering loyalty when his wife was being unnaturally stubborn, declining to bend her head when they weren't in talking distance.

He gave a small nod and Astoria's lips turned to a small smile.

Sit down, Tom asked him in through their bond, and Harry hummed, taking his place from the throne next to Tom.

"We have quite a few things to go through today, so let's begin. We will have dinner at eight, even if we are not ready yet. You are all invited to eat with us and we will return to the meeting after that. Am I clear?" A handful of Knights nodded to Tom's question, a few glancing to the secluded corner where their partners were socialising.

"Julian Avery, begin," Harry ordered, taking a more comfortable position in an upholstered chair. Nausea rolled through his abdomen, forcing him to swallow, and he felt Tom's worry in his mind. He was sure that it would pass soon enough. He hadn't eaten well in a week so it was probably something related to that. Tom had tried to get him to see a healer or even let Lady Malfoy check him, but he had waved it away.

"The warehouse is secured and the production is starting within a week. After some inquiries in Knockturn Alley, I've made sure that there will be a high demand for the elixir. Three brothels are ready to order straight from us for a stable stream of it and it is a lot. One of them is located in Knockturn Alley, the second is in the north and the third is in Ireland. I'm sure that we will have a steady cash flow in no time," Julian Avery, one of the three Averys in their Knights, answered dutifully, and Harry nodded.

"How about the risks? How are you going to handle the transport?" Tom asked. It was a big investment from them, to start to produce a potion that would offer high ecstasy and long endurance. They didn't necessarily need any money after Tom had succeeded in acquiring Slytherin vaults in Gringotts, but they wanted to have something from the outside, akin to business, to cover the costs of the war that would start soon enough. If current Lord Malfoy, their biggest investor, died suddenly, it would mean even months of pause while Draco took care of all the paperwork so they had to be ready for anything.

"I've made sure that we have anonymous crates that are impossible to track to us. They will be sent with a portkey to the seller regularly, returning to the quarantine room in twenty-four hours for scanning and cleaning before setting back up for use. I've talked with a curse-breaker who might be available for coming to work there."

"Good job. How about you, Valeria?" Tom praised, moving to the second Avery in the room. She was an elegant woman, who worked in St Mungo in administration.

"No news," she responded, and Harry felt Tom's disappointment.

They probably take care of their wounded members by themselves, Harry reminded him and got an imaginative nod as a response.

"Thank you. Lucius, how are you doing in the Ministry?"

Lord Malfoy swallowed before opening his mouth. Harry leaned forward, interested to hear what the snivelling bastard would have to say this time. He glanced at Draco who stared right ahead. His jaw was stiff, a clear sign of him grinding his teeth together. How had the apple fallen so far from the tree? Narcissa Malfoy was a kind and brave woman, strong in a way that only Black could be, but her husband was different. He was like a submissive omega, despite being a beta. Harry sniffed, annoyed that they used scent blockers during the meetings. People ignored Harry's secondary gender more easily when his scent didn't remind them about it all the time. He had to punish them from time to time about the power he held and had when they tried to overstep him, looking down at anyone who was a 'weak' omega.

"The election for new Minister for Magic is starting up soon. Cornelius Fudge has expressed his interest but some calculations have shown that Bartemius Crouch Sr might be up for the role. If he decides to run, it's a high possibility that he will be voted in," Lucius stopped, when Bartemius Crouch Jr's muttering got louder.

"Barty," Harry called out, silence landing back to the room. "Shall we listen to Lucius's report without interruptions? I am sure that we can find a solution to stop him from running for the Minister."

"Yes, my Lord," Barty replied quickly. Harry smiled and turned his attention back to Lucius who had paled.

"Continue, please."

"Third option is... Albus Dumbledore," Lucius admitted, fear evident in the way how his voice was shaking. "But he's not interested to be the Minister!"

"Of course, not. He has his precious school where he can groom children to be soldiers in the war he thinks is real, even though it has not started yet," Tom sneered. He got ready to dismiss Lucius, but Harry brushed his hand that was resting between them.

"We will take care of Crouch Sr. What do you think about Fudge? Is he... controllable?" Harry asked, wanting to hear Lucius's opinion about him. He had heard a lot about Fudge and read the reports from their other Ministry spies, and they painted a clear picture of a greedy man who was ready to bend for money. He felt Tom's poking question but ignored it in favour of getting more information.

"Yes. I'm sure that we can work with him. He's not very... favourable towards Headmaster, so it will not be hard."

"Thank you," Harry said and leaned back. Under the cover of his cloak he pressed his hand against his stomach, a new wave of nausea threatening him to throw an earlier light lunch to the floor. He grimaced, thankful for the hood that hid his expressions perfectly in the dark shadows. Tom pressed his hand to his arm, giving his silent support while continuing the meeting.

"Lord Prince, how are you doing with filling our potion stocks?" Harry's grimace turned to a smile, warmth spreading through him. He liked the fact that Severus had taken to follow them, instead of Dumbledore. There was always a slight fear that he was spying for the Order as he was also a member of it and not even talking about how he was Harry's mother's best friend. They had made it impossible even before he was marked but there was always a chance.

"It's going well, my Lords. I don't trust anyone else to do it for you so I will do it, even if I have to sleep only spare hours here and there while keeping up with my own business," Severus answered curtly, and Harry knew for a fact that Tom liked him too.

"We will have a meeting next week about your finances," Tom commanded, and Severus nodded, bending his head down. Harry sighed, knowing that the meeting would be futile. They had tried to offer Severus money for his efforts so many times during the years that he was sure that Severus would soon curse before they could even say a thousand.

Harry tuned the next three Knights out, his mind turning to his mother and — reluctantly — father. He kept regular contact with his mother after his father had all but disowned him after a spectacularly big fight. He was glad that he was an only child, the only possible heir to the Potter fortunes, so James couldn't disown him officially unless he wanted to kill the whole Potter family. His mother was in a difficult place, between two sides that wanted to wipe the other side out of existence.

Lily Potter wasn't a Gryffindor and a best friend of a Slytherin for nothing. She kept in contact with Harry in secret, behind James's back, and neither of them could care less what he would think about it. The pang of sadness filled Harry and he moved to rub his chest. He blamed his hormones, though it didn't really make sense when his last heat just ended three weeks ago.

Stress, he decided, occluding it carefully out of Tom's reach. They couldn't trust anything to stay in secret if they didn't actively protect it from the other, their souls so tightly knitted together that it was often near impossible to feel where I ended and he started.

Harry snapped out of his mind when he felt the privacy ward waver. Narcissa Malfoy stepped through it, and all the voices halted to a stop.

"My Lords, I'm sorry for the interruption. Dinner is ready."

"Thank you, Lady Malfoy," Tom said politely before standing up. Harry followed his lead just seconds behind, their fingers intertwining together. "Let us take a break. We will return here at half past nine. Dismissed."

With that, Tom pulled Harry closer to his side and with a wave of his hand activated the runes that were itched to both of their skins, to offer the tightest privacy wards that were possible, obscuring even their lips so no one would be able to read words from their lips.

"Darling, something is clearly wrong," Tom murmured, turning fully to Harry. He lowered his hood and smiled.

"Everything will be good. This is nothing," Harry insisted, his stubborn nature making itself known.

"I'll give you two weeks. If you still feel even slightly bad, I will force you to see the healer. Do you understand, my dearest? You don't have options then. I will do it, despite your objections. You can fight me, yell at me and curse me as much as you want, but I will drag you there."

Harry gulped and opened his mouth to reply, but Tom cancelled the privacy ward before he could do anything. That bastard, Harry thought fondly, and if Tom’s glance at him was nothing to go by, he had heard it.

Barty came to them, his expression expectant. Draco, dutiful as he was, stepped between him and Harry, his posture stiff.

"My Lords," Barty greeted and bowed. "I’d like to know what you’re planning for my foolish father," he continued, not at all put out by Draco’s behaviour. Harry glanced at his husband, knowing glint in his eyes. He was sure that Draco knew he didn’t feel well, hence the tightened security measures.

"Not here, Barty," Harry said, exaggerated from Barty’s — familiar — blood lust. It wasn’t for nothing that he was one of the best Knights if you looked at the body count.

"Noted, my Lord. Do we have a meeting tomorrow, then?" Barty’s browns furrowed, showing signs of his displeasure.

"We will call you in when the plans are finalised," Tom interrupted. The man bowed and left while Tom’s arm sneaked behind Harry's back, his fingers tapping to his side. Harry sighed and leaned more on Tom. "Do you feel like eating?" Tom murmured and Harry turned his attention inwards.

"I guess so. I’ll try, but we will see if I can keep it down."

Tom took it as a sign to lead him to the formal dining room that has a long table set for them. Huge windows viewed over the grounds, the hill leading to the lake surrounded by small fires. On the daytime, the dark walls were barely in sight on the other side of the lake but in the middle of January, just a few weeks after the darkest night of the year, there wasn't enough light for that. Their Knights followed them, trickling to sit around the table and a low murmur filling the room. Tom stopped at the head of the table, dropping his hands from Harry and clapping them together.

"Please, eat!" he called out. Few of the more proper purebloods glanced at each other, and Harry could guess their thoughts even without Legilimency. It wasn’t proper to start the meal before the Lord of the House had sat down and taken his first bite.

"You’re doing this on purpose," Harry said, his lips threatening to stretch to one of the genuine, private smiles. Tom hummed, his expression neutral as always, but the emotions flowing through their bonds were a different matter. Harry didn’t need to see his eyes to know that the amusement shone from them.

They took their chairs at the head of the table, Draco by Harry’s right side and Blaise by Tom's left side. It was a regular sitting order, even though Blaise wasn't even near the top of the order chain. Blaise was one of the rare omegas in the Knights, proven to be a valuable asset and a strong wizard, and while Tom valued the Blacks that were part of their Knights, he didn't trust them close to Harry after Sirius's... betrayal. And well, they got also their fun from how the betas and especially alphas looked at Blaise like they had swallowed a lemon in whole.

"What do you want, my Lord?" Draco asked quietly. Harry rolled his eyes, thinking it silly how everyone who knew about his condition was so worried about him. He enjoyed Tom's pampering but hated to seem weak to the others.

"I'll start with the salad," he replied, eyeing the other participants. Daphne was clearly chatting Pansy's ears off a few seats away while Severus sat stiffly opposite them. "Severus," he called, getting the man's attention to himself. "How is my Mother?"

Some of the Knights glanced at them, stretching their necks and trying to hear better. When their eyes met Harry's, they turned away quickly.

"I believe she's fine," Severus answered, looking at Harry intensively. "To be honest, you might know it better. Christmas was just a few weeks ago and she said that you would see each other."

Harry willed his blush down, remembering why that meeting hadn't happened. At the time, he had been busy begging Tom to breed him. Usually, his so-called Christmas Heat was over when Christmas arrived, but last year it had been late.

"No, we had some other matters to attend to," Harry said quickly, trying to cover his embarrassment, but he knew Severus was excellent at reading people. Severus's eyes flickered to Tom before meeting his own again. He nodded curtly before turning his attention back to his food. At least Pansy relaxed, Harry thought, his mind still on his Mother.

Invite her for a visit next week, Tom suggested through their bond, she might also know something about your nausea. Harry turned to scowl at him before pulling his neutral mask to his face. The noise level returned back to normal when everyone realised that their Lord wasn't talking with someone further away anymore.

Harry poked his salad, grimacing at the pepper that was staring at him. Sure, it was innocent, but the last time he had put one to his mouth, he had thrown up and he had no desire to repeat the experience, especially in front of their Knights. He pushed the plate away, settling for water.

"My Lord, you should eat something," Draco whispered to him, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

"Remember your place," Harry reminded, all the nagging crating his nerves. Draco lowered his head, going back to his own plate, and Harry leaned back, observing the table. Most of the Knights were from pureblood families — only by accident — so they knew the table manners.

He is right, Tom told him, and Harry slammed his Occlumency walls up quickly, not wanting to listen to even Tom's remarks. He felt Tom poking around his walls, needling them and trying to get through, but it didn't work. Soul was separate from Mind, making it possible to block their soul blond with strong Occlumency.

"He is right. You can't avoid me, darling," Tom hissed, giving up with his tries to get through. Harry bit his teeth tightly together, making sure that his expression was neutral before turning to Tom, with his eyebrow quirked up. "Fine. We will talk about this later," Tom sighed.

"Do you need me for the rest of the meeting?" he asked when most of the participants had finished their meals.

"I would always love to have you by my side, my dearest, but no, I don't necessarily need you. The rest will do good to you, so go, my love, go to rest. I will join you after I have dismissed everyone."

Harry relaxed from the words and he lowered the walls. I am sorry, Tom whispered through their bond, his regret echoing to Harry and showing that he was serious. Harry nodded and stood up.

Everyone stopped their chatting and the last of the cutlers were lowered to the plates.

"I retire for the night. My husband will see the rest of the meeting alone. We will see each other next week during our regular team meetings. Do remember, that my husband's patience is not as fine as mine. Good evening," Harry announced before turning to Tom. Their eyes met, and Harry couldn't stop the smile that wanted to rise to his lips. He set his hand to Tom's nape, pulling him for a quick but deep kiss, his tongue mapping the taste of red wine from his mouth.

"I will be waiting," he whispered after he had pulled back slightly, their lips still brushing against each other with every movement. He smirked when Tom's eyes widened before he could school his expression to neutral.

"I trust you on that," Tom growled, sending shivers down Harry's back. Tom's eyes flickered down, making clear the meaning behind his words. Harry swallowed and nodded, pulling himself almost forcefully back from the tight grip Tom had on his shoulders.

At least scent blockers offered something good: stopped others from smelling his arousal.

Albus took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, tired of seeing the same information again and again but not being able to do anything to stop it because he would put one of his most valuable spies at risk with that. He had tried to talk over the Minister for not leaving her job just yet, but Madame Bagnold had been adamant about her right to retire.

And it seemed that Mr Crouch Sr would lose his life for it.

Albus hated the whole situation. He had waited too long to cut in and Harry and Tom had steered too far to the Dark before that. He had been hopeful that Harry's gentler nature would ease Tom's aspirations and especially the ways he would try to reach them, but it seemed almost the opposite. Where had they gone so wrong? Was it his, Lily's or James's fault that Harry had gone too far?

He hoped that the next Minister for Magic would be easier to mould to his will, making him easier to guide and especially get him to believe that there were two Dark Lords — or to-be Dark Lords, he wasn't completely sure how far Harry and Tom had gone already and it had taken years from Gellert to achieve that and Tom had just turned thirty, being still a few years younger than Gellert had been — threatening the British Wizarding World.

There was a knock on his door. Albus sighed and called the incomer to step in.

"Victoire, it's nice to see you," he greeted, trying to reach for a warm smile, but he knew that she would have only bad news, she wouldn't risk her place for mundane things.

"Likewise, Headmaster, but I've arrived with bad news that needs more attention. Could you call for a full meeting?" she asked. Albus studied her for a moment before nodding and turning to the paintings.

"You know what to do, we will meet in the Potter Manor in fifteen minutes," he told them, watching as the people in them took off, travelling to their counterparts in the houses of the Order members. "How bad it is?" he asked, turning back to Victoire. She shook her head.

"Very bad. We need to do something immediately if we want to do anything, but I will explain more when everyone is there," Victoire admitted, her shoulders slumping down. She fidgeted with the hems of her sleeves. "They are tightening their security because of the spies."

"Oh, my girl, I'm really sorry," Albus murmured. He could feel the sweat gathering on his forehead while his heart was beating too fast. The war was closer than ever before and it didn't look good for the Light side.

"Don't. I'm doing this for Anthony, for his family. I can't allow them to win and I will do everything to fight them in every step," Victoire objected fiercely, and Albus couldn't help his genuine smile.

"Are you safe there?" he asked, like he did at least once a month, just to make sure that everything was fine.

"As safe as anyone can be. I have my last name to protect me. Potter is soft inside, he gives up easily in front of people's flaws and stops Riddle from doing anything harsh. But… he hasn't been well lately, retiring to their rooms before the meeting is over. Riddle is impatient then, throwing curses here and there. Everyone is walking on eggshells around him nowadays."

Albus lowered his eyes and turned the ring on his finger around. The light reflected from the blood-red stone that was reminding him every day about his mistakes with Gellert. He had to stop this quickly.

"Good. Good. I'm glad, that you're safe. Remember, that you always have a safe place with us if that changes." A cough pulled his attention to one of the paintings, where Mr Cadler was waving his hand to him.

"Everyone is ready," he told him. Albus nodded and stood up, his mind whirling. He felt cold fear restricting his breathing, pressing his chest together. He dreamt of his retirement, travelling to somewhere nice where he could enjoy the sun and peace for the rest of his life. He thought of the sweets when he stepped to the green flames, flooing to the Potter Manor.

"Albus," Lily greeted him, her mouth in a tight line and all the warmth was missing from her voice.

"Lily, my girl, thank you for the quick work," Albus responded. He wanted to hug her because it couldn't be easy to be a mother to the future Dark Lord, but Lily seemed cold, like she didn't want to get anyone near her.

"Of course," she answered shortly and turned on her heels. Albus sighed and waited for Victoire before following Lily to the formal dining room where they were having the meeting. He wanted to slap himself for not making Victoire tell him her information so he would've been able to predict everyone's reactions better, but it was too late for that.

"Albus, what is the meaning of this?" Arthur asked from the other side of the room as soon as he stepped in. His hands were crossed on his chest and he seemed to have gotten older since the last time he saw him.

"I don't know yet. Ms Chevalier has news that had to be addressed immediately." He took the chair at the head of the table, waving the chair on his right side to Victoire. "Let's sit down, everyone, so we can listen to what she has to say."

Everyone took their places, and Albus felt a sliver of terror when Victoire looked at her hands. She was usually an attentive woman who didn’t dwell on her thoughts.

"Go on, my girl, tell us," he murmured, trying to encourage her.

"The Knights had a meeting tonight. They are ready to open that drug business the following week," she said, getting multiple people cursing around the long table. Albus closed his eyes, feeling his age for once as it was.

He hadn’t wanted to believe it when Victoire had told him about their plans for the first time. He had thought, maybe foolishly, that Harry wouldn’t want to do that. That he would want to protect innocent people’s well-being.

"How can he?" Sirius’s yell reached his ears over the noise, and Albus realised that he had to stop this before someone barged into the impermeable Slytherin Castle for a suicide mission.

"Everyone, take a deep breath and sit down!" Albus bellowed, getting everyone’s attention. "Ms Chevalier, what do you think, do we have any chances to stop them?" He could guess that they didn’t. During the years that the war had started to seem more and more likely to start any day, they had tried to stop Harry and Tom and their Knights, but every time it had been futile. It was like they knew when the Order of the Phoenix tried to fight back and they had too many dead members already.

"Maybe, but it might be a suicide mission," Victoire admitted, a deep frown on her forehead. "They are looking for a curse-breaker and have only talked with one so far." The idea bloomed in Albus’s mind, his eyes fastening to William Weasley who was sitting next to his father.

"No!" Molly screeched, standing up, but Albus couldn’t listen to her. "You will not get our son killed for this mission!"

"Molly, dear, don’t you see it? We have to stop them. I can’t be even sure that they would choose Bill. He’s a Weasley and in their minds, you are blood traitors," Albus sighed and rubbed his temples. He could feel the headache coming. The war was going terribly for their side and the Minister didn’t listen to him when he tried to tell them about Tom and Harry.

"Lord Slytherin and his Lord-Consort are one of the most polite people in the world. Ruthless? Yes, but that is needed in politics."

"Mom," Bill’s voice cut through. "It is my decision, is it not? However, they have searched for the curse breaker in Gringotts too, I saw someone talking with a few of my colleagues. They didn’t come to me, despite that I know that Samuels recommended me. Do you see? They have already decided that I’m not fit for that, be it my last name or something else."

"You’re dating Rowle. Isn’t that good for them?" Ginny growled. This isn’t going at all like I wanted, Albus thought, blowing the air in his lungs out before inhaling deliberately in.

"Don’t pull Esther to this. Her father will disown her when he gets to know about us," Bill objected, his voice tight from anger. Albus wasn’t so sure about it. He was afraid that Ms Rowle would be able to lure Bill out of the Order, even as far as joining the Knights. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that there were spies in the Order, the same as they had spies in the Knights, but he had no idea about the identities. The Order wasn’t that big — more like too small for the upcoming war — so he hoped that there was only one in their midst.

"You should talk with her and see what she knows," Albus suggested, knowing that he was walking on a thin line.

"I will not use her as our informant," Bill said, shaking his head. "If you want to destroy the best thing that has happened to me, I’m leaving." He stood up, prying his arm off from Arthur who had grabbed it. Albus knew that he had messed up but he could just hope that it was fixable.

Molly followed her son out of the dining room while the others just looked at Albus, their shoulders tense and expressions grim. Albus rolled the thought in his mind for a moment, his eyes flickering to Lily and James before sweeping over everyone else.

"Harry hasn’t been well and —"

"What? What’s wrong with him?" Lily cut out, her eyes blazing with emotions.

"I don’t know. However —"

"No, you will not use my son’s potential illness for the greater good," she declined, standing up. Albus closed his eyes, annoyed about the interruption. He admired the way how fiercely Lily loved Harry despite everything, but he couldn’t be on her side in this. He knew that Lily wouldn’t be able to fight against Harry or Tom, that she endured the Order meetings for her husband.

Albus had thought about it a few times. Lily was in a position that would be perfect for a spy — for both sides — but he wanted to believe that her loyalty went deeper than that. Her son was on the other side of the war but her husband and friends were on their side. Lily wouldn't change her loyalties for only his son. Albus wanted to know the truth about it, but he didn't dare to use Legilimency on her.

"Very well. We will not use this opportunity," he gave in, a weight dropping onto his heart. They just had to figure out Harry's illness. Maybe they could work behind Lily's back, without her coming between them. "What were the other topics in the meeting?" he asked, turning back to Victoire who had been looking between them silently.

"Reports — naturally. They are planning on disposing of Mr Crouch Sr so Mr Fudge would be the only candidate for Minister for Magic. Mr Fudge is basically theirs already, so there are no hopes for getting on his good side."

"Can we protect Crouch?" Moody grunted out, his magical eye rolling in its socket.

"Last that we tried to suggest some protection, he got angry at me even suggesting it," Kingsley told him.

"Was there anything else?" Albus asked. He was busy planning their counter-attack. The clock was ticking, closer to the point when they wouldn't be able to do anything at all.

"There's not much useful information in the bigger meetings anymore, since they know about spies. They don't show it, but it seems that they are afraid of you, sir," Victoire replied. Albus was disappointed, but he understood. It was the same with the Order meetings. They had currently only the most important and trusted people there, so the chances that there was a spy was lower. He nodded and stood up.

"Well done. We can close this meeting, but wait for the new invitation in a few days. I have something to prepare and I will talk with Mr Crouch Sr personally." He didn't stay to wait for official dismissal from James as the Lord of the Manor. He had too many things to do and only six hours until he was supposed to be at the breakfast table in the Great Hall. He would need to pick up some pepper-up from Poppy in the morning.

Tom read the sentence again, but it didn't make any more sense than last time. He sighed and dropped the parchment to his desk. His mind was already on the evening, choosing the wine for the food. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, probing the soul bond on his chest.

Stop that! I try to concentrate, Harry told him immediately. Tom opened his eyes again and scowled at the pile of reports he was supposed to go through now that he was having a free day from the Ministry but in truth, he wanted to be with Harry.

A knock on the window got him to turn away from the desk and he didn't know what he wanted to be more, annoyed or amused. Harry was balancing on top of his broom, a silly grin plastered on his face. He had his winter flying gear on, reminding Tom about the summers he loved to look at Harry flying — and if the reason were to drool over the view of Harry's perfect body in fitted gears, no one would know. I know, Harry quipped, and Tom just rolled his eyes.

When Tom approached the window, Harry took off, flying in circles and making flips. Show off. Tom smiled when he saw Harry laughing in the air, and his want to be outside with him only grew. He regretted many decisions he had made — mainly that he had taken all of the paperwork instead of sharing it with Harry.

Tom returned to his desk, flopping down to his chair and taking the same report to his hands.

BW got to the warehouse without any issues. P tried to get in, but the wards kept.

At least the production of Elixir of Rapture was on and going and the Order wouldn't be able to get it down anymore. He basked in Harry's emotions, skimming the report to the end, where the conclusion was that they would start to get revenue within a few weeks if everything went well. Tom wished that there wouldn't be any problems, because he didn't want to be dependent on Lord Malfoy's — albeit reluctant — donations.

The next report wasn't any easier with all the mistakes in spelling and clumsy wording and Tom wrote down that he would call the particular Knight in. It was probably easier to just get the report in person.

And so it went, a headache slowly intensifying behind Tom's eyes, requiring him to stop from time to time to massage his temples.

"Briar!" he called out and one of their oldest house elves appeared in front of him without a sound.

"Master Snakey called Briar. How can I help, Master?" Tom barely stopped himself from sighing, his patience wearing thin with everything and he didn't particularly like the nickname Master Snakey that the house elves serving Slytherin family for centuries wanted to use. Especially when none of them liked Harry that much.

"Bring me a pain reliever from the healing cupboard, will you?" he asked. Briar complied fast, disappearing at once and returning in a blink of his eye, the required potion in his hands.

"You are welcome, Master Snakey. Do you want Briar to call his consort?" Briar asked, referring to Harry again with a title that wasn't official. Unfortunately, they had learned to be cunning, being able to go around any rules and commands Tom gave them.

On the other hand, they had also the house elves they had acquired years back when they had moved to the Castle and realised that the amount of house elves wasn't enough when they were definitely on the older side, slower to do their work. They were so loyal to both of them that it was almost ridiculous. Tom had feared one of the original house elves poisoning Harry when they had moved in, but over time he had overcome the fear.

Harry's amusement trickled through their bond, piquing Tom's interest. He had a half mind to join Harry, whatever it was that he was amused over. When the headache started to bound particularly painfully, he realised he had zoned out. He drowned the potion, shuddering from the icy feeling sliding through his throat, and closed his eyes, feeling the pain ebb away slowly.

Tom pressed the heels of his palms onto his eyes until he started to see stars. He took them off, blinking franticly before the stars disappeared. He felt somewhat refreshed, though the amusement from Harry was still there, teasing him.

"Master Snakey, do you need Briar for something else?" the house elf asked, and if someone told Tom later that he jumped, he would have denied it. He had forgotten Briar completely, and he didn't have a habit of leaving before he was dismissed.

"No, no, you can take your leave," Tom muttered, turning back to the parchments which were scattered around his desk. He ignored Harry the best he could while drowning in a few more reports.

Tom didn't know how much time it had been but he knew for sure that he would need to read again at least the last five reports, his mind turning constantly to Harry and forgetting everything else. With a loud groan, he gave up and levitated all the reports to the drawer. He knew he wanted to see Harry, to get his attention, to bask in his presence, instead of spending the afternoon in his office while any of their Knights might come to interrupt him.

Tom found Harry in their private sitting room that was attached to the master bedroom. He was lying on the couch and reading something that seemed to be some kind of a… novel. Tom wasn't sure he wanted to know more, instead opting to widen the couch and flopping next to Harry who was still focused on the book.

"Darling," Tom said, stretching the r. He turned to his side and realised that Harry still had his flying gears on, minus the winter coat and accessories, of course. He looked ridiculously good, his nose and cheeks still shining from the time spent in the freezing weather. Harry blinked, the corner of his eye crinkling slightly, but otherwise, he seemed to ignore Tom's presence. "Are you warm?" Tom asked, sliding his hand on Harry's arm.

"Mm? Oh, yes," Harry responded, his attention still firmly on the book. Tom scowled, thinking of a better way to change that. The book couldn't be more interesting than him.

Sitting up, Tom changed his tactics and moved to Harry's feet. He tried to tug Harry's trousers up but when it didn't work, them being too tight for it, he moved to open them.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked when Tom pried his fingers under his waistline. He looked over his book and Tom gave him a wicked grin before continuing his work to get Harry's trousers off.

"I'm going to massage your feet," he announced when Harry wasn't helping at all by keeping his hips stubbornly on the couch. Finally, Harry lifted his arse to the air and Tom pulled his trousers off, revealing his bare thighs to him. He licked his lips unconsciously, following the skin to the hem of Harry's pants before snapping his attention lower. He wanted Harry to look at him instead of a book, but he knew Harry wasn't feeling his best so sex wasn't the one he was after.

Tom threw the trousers to the floor, not caring even a bit where they went. The house elf could pick them up and take care of them. He took a more comfortable position before settling Harry's other foot to the couch and the other to his lap. The bonds pulsed with the physical connection, the pleasure humming just under Tom's skin in the places he was touching Harry.

Tom took a firm hold of Harry's ankle, kneading his fingers gently, yet still firmly, onto the muscles. Harry groaned and lowered the book onto his chest and Tom felt like he had just won something important. He was ready to withdraw and move to the cuddle that he had wanted to get originally.

"Don't stop," Harry moaned, sounding so enticing that Tom couldn't deny him. He wanted to hear more of the noises that left Harry's mouth, his own grin already turned to a softer smile. Sliding his fingers upwards to Harry's calf, conjured massage oil easing the way, he continued to manipulate the tight muscle.

Tom felt Harry's enjoyment in his mind, sensing even something like desire. And who would Tom be to decline that? He purred and moved upwards, to Harry's thigh that quivered under his softer brushes. The leg twitched when Tom moved closer to Harry's crotch, the smell of arousal starting to spread out around them. Tom wanted so much to just settle between Harry's thighs and give him a blowjob, his mouth watering from the thought alone, but he wanted to tease, just a little.

Tom moved the foot in his lap aside despite Harry's objections and turned to the other foot, giving the same treatment to his ankle, calf and finally thigh. He glanced at Harry who stared at him, his pupils blown wide, shadowing the redness of his irises. His expression was mixed with lust and frustration, his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Beg," Tom murmured, his fingers brushing slightly closer to Harry's crotch. He could see a wet patch on Harry's pants. He met Harry's eyes, waiting to hear the words he so much loved from Harry but nothing came. It was their favourite thing to do, have a battle of wills, during anything even slightly sexual, something that didn't come from their secondary genders, even though some people would have thought so. "Omega, beg," he repeated, inching his fingers closer just enough so he could brush against the wet patch with his middle finger. Harry whimpered, his teeth pressing tighter to his lip until he relaxed his jaw.

"Alpha, please," Harry begged. His eyes were glassy and the redness on his cheeks got stronger.

"Please what?" Tom stressed, putting a bit more pressure on his finger that was touching Harry's pants.

"Touch me," Harry hissed, his hips twitching upwards. Tom smirked and pressed his finger deeper, feeling the rim of the leaking hole through the fabric. He moved his hand upwards, cupping Harry's straining cock before hooking his fingers under his waistband, tugging his pants off.

Harry looked so good, positively editable, that for a moment Tom could only stare. He had still his flying shirt on, vaxed leather glistening in the warm lighting. It complimented Harry's upper body, highlighting his thinner waist. His hair was in a braid like always, but it was mussed during his flight, stray strands framing his face.

But oh no, it wasn't what really caught Tom's attention.

Tom and Harry had been together for years. Thirteen years and three weeks, his mind supplied. Still, after all that time, Tom wasn't used to the sight of Harry, spread out in front of him like that, leaking and withering, mewling and begging for more. It stole his breath away, every time, making him want to bury himself inside of Harry and he was never sure if he wanted to bury his cock or his whole self in Harry.

"I need you," Harry sobbed, his body arching towards Tom but not able to reach him to where he was sitting between Harry's calves. Tom could imagine how his chest looked under the leather, how his nipples would be hard, luring him to take one of the buds to his mouth while pinching the other.

Tom adjusted himself in his trousers before laying down between Harry's legs, his face close enough to Harry's crotch that he would have needed to only stick his tongue out and he could've been able to taste him. The decision was hard between cock and hole because Tom wanted to devour both, devour Harry as a whole. He blew air out of his lungs, looking at how the hole fluttered under it while Harry's voice broke off for a second before it returned in full force with his withering increasing.

Tom's blood was boiling inside his veins, the tightness around his groin pulling his focus on that but he wanted to give Harry his full attention and unless he begged Tom to fill him, he wouldn't do that. He locked some of his emotions under Occlumency, to keep them in check while he would make sure that Harry came.

Tom graced his finger around the rim of Harry's hole before pushing his finger inside to the wet heat that was so familiar but at the same time so surprising with its tightness. Even after years of having regular sex, of stretching Harry with his knot that also swelled outside of the ruts more often than not, it was as tight as when he had taken Harry's virginity.

Harry moaned and wiggled to get the finger deeper. Tom stopped him immediately, pinning him against the couch and finally nuzzling against Harry's shaft. The arousal was strongest right there, in the scent that made Tom dizzy from want. He added a second finger next to the first one and licked a long stripe from the base of Harry's cock to the tip of it, twirling his tongue around the slit, sliding the foreskin down with his free hand. Harry was already babbling, a clear sign of him being lost in his pleasure.

It was… endearing, the way how Harry's walls crumbled under the sexual pleasure altogether. He changed so completely, his cold and commanding facade cracking and showing the man he was under all of it.

Tom sucked the tip into his mouth, savouring the taste of precum — slick. He felt the ghostly sensation of his lips around his own tip when Harry projected it to him. Moaning around the shaft, he lowered his head and massaged the cock with his tongue. He added a third finger to Harry’s hole, Harry's back arching from the couch. The slick ran down his fingers, smearing the couch.

"Tom, Tom, Tom — ah, alpha!" Harry chanted, his tone changing more urgent when Tom pressed his fingers to the back wall of his hole, hitting the sensitive spot. The fresh spurt of cum spurting out of his cock got Tom swallowing around his shaft like a dying man, wanting to milk everything out of Harry. Tom ground his hips to the couch, seeking some friction to his own aching cock.

He speeded his fingers, hitting the sensitive spot every time he pushed them in. He pressed his thumb against the skin under Harry’s cock, just where his bollocks would’ve been if they hadn’t transformed when he presented. The cock in his mouth jerked. The coil tightened in Tom’s stomach and he knew Harry was close, his pleasure increasing and pulsing through their bonds.

Harry’s body seized, his muscles contracting while the walls of his hole tightened around Tom’s fingers and his cock pulsing with the slick spluttering to Tom’s throat. Tom continued his relent massage of the spot, Harry’s insides milking his fingers and sucking them deeper.

"Ah, Tom, love, alpha, too sensitive," Harry cried out, scrambling backwards and Tom let him, extracting himself completely from him and sitting up. He fumbled to his trousers, his orgasm so close, and took his erection out. He stared at Harry, his flushed face and trembling thighs, his quickly rising chest that followed his gasps. It took only three tugs to come, to splatter his cum over Harry’s lower abdomen. He moaned and gasped for air, jerking a few more times, his body shuddering.

Tom lifted his eyes to Harry’s face and saw him looking at him. He gave a crooked grin before waving his hand, vanishing the cum and slick. He wanted to snuggle Harry, but also just gather him in his arms, to hug him close to his chest. The decision was made by Harry when he sat up, grimacing at the wetness between his legs. He crawled to Tom and climbed on his lap, wrapping his hands behind Tom’s neck.

"That was good," he murmured, before pressing their lips together. Tom relaxed to the kiss and set his hand on Harry’s back, securing him to the place. It was slow and calming, like a long bath after an even longer day. He hummed, the voice turning into a soft grumble. Harry’s scent softened, leaving only the memory of arousal behind.

Tom pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. A grin tugged his mouth and before he knew it, he was laughing breathlessly.

"Merlin, I needed that," he said, moving to Harry’s neck, just above his mating gland, to nuzzle the soft skin. He nipped it, enjoying the shiver it gave to Harry.

"I’m glad," Harry purred, tilting his head to the side. He purred from the depth of his chest, his upper body vibrating with it. Tom felt content. His stress and pressure finally disappeared. It was a special kind of perfection, to bask in Harry’s scent.

Chapter Text

02 | My Blood Runs Wild

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Harry groaned and lifted his head from the cold toilet seat he had rested his forehead. He heard a shuffle of clothes when Tom stepped into the bathroom.

"I know, I know,  I should've told you that I'm still feeling ill," Harry murmured. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He was so tired of the constant fatigue and nausea, how he tried to hide it all from Tom and especially from everyone else.

"Darling, don't apologise," Tom replied, crouching next to him. His cool fingers felt like heaven on Harry's skin when he pulled loose strands back. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you. I'll call a healer and make an appointment later today."

Harry pulled a face, but he knew that he didn't have any options, not anymore. Tom had made him promise that he'd see the healer without objections if his sickness continued. Maybe I could get some more sleep with some medicine.

"Why didn't you wake me up when you couldn't sleep?" Tom asked, his voice softer than usual. His nails scratched Harry's scalp, sending shivers down on his back.

"At least one of us should be able to sleep properly," Harry mumbled, leaning to Tom. An arm wrapped around him and before he could even yelp, Tom got up from the floor, keeping him firmly on his hands.

"If I thought that I could really get you to the healer right now, I would've done it already," he growled, but the kisses he peppered to Harry's hair destroyed any chances that it would have been somehow threatening. Harry giggled, wrapping his hand behind Tom's back for extra support.

"Tom," he hissed, slamming his free hand over his mouth when his stomach twirled again.

"Shh, that's it, love," Tom comforted him, rubbing his back. "I don't care if you throw over me, remember that."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut before pressing his face to Tom's neck, inhaling slowly his alpha's scent that filled him always with safety. His eyes burnt from the tears that threatened to spill over, and he just squeezed his eyes firmer.

"Let's get you back to bed and tuck you in," Tom murmured, lowering him to the soft mattress. He pulled a blanket over him, wrapping it securely around him, but Harry didn't realise he was whining until Tom ripped the blanket off and replaced it with himself.

"What is upsetting you, my omega?" he asked. Harry shook his head, unable to build any answer in his mind while his instincts were screaming at him to scent his alpha throughout. "Sleep," Tom hissed softly, brushing his hand over Harry's eyes, and Harry couldn't — didn't want to — fight against the charm Tom had clearly cast him.

Harry woke up with a startle sometime later to a warm hand on his forehead. He snapped his eyes open, but the sight of Tom's wine-red eyes relaxed him instantly. He tried to relax deeper into the mattress, but there was an unfamiliar scent. He wasn't sure if he wanted to get out of bed and go to Tom's safety or hide under the blanket.

It was something between when he dropped to the floor with the blanket in knots with his feet. His heartbeat was erratic through his ribcage and it was hard to breathe. Hands took his face between them and it took a moment before he realised that he was — again — looking straight at Tom.

The healer is there. Relax, my love, you're safe with me, Tom told him silently. Harry gulped, his eyes flickering to the other side of the room where someone in deep blue robes was standing, his back turned to them.

This is just a basic check, nothing is wrong, Harry tried to comfort himself, but he couldn't help to dread what the healer had to tell him.

Remember, you can't die. If it's something serious, I will fix it.

Harry squeezed Tom's hand and tried to smile. His smile froze in the halfway when the healer turned around. He glanced at Tom who nodded to him, couraging him to accept the healer.

What? How? He had heard the man before them was dead. That wasn't the case, the healthy colour on his cheeks telling Harry that he wasn't a vampire or anything.

Yes. He's one of the few people I trust, Tom told him, not really answering any of the questions, and Harry's curiosity rared. He did his best to stifle it, for now, they had time for questions later. They rarely kept secrets from each other, their bonds being one of the biggest reasons for that since they couldn't lie to one another. Tom had to have a really good reason to keep his… friend if Harry dared to go that far to call him that, as a secret from Harry.

"My Lords," Regulus Black greeted them, bowing deep.

"How?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself. Sirius had told him that his brother had died at eighteen, just weeks after Harry's birth, but here he was, clearly alive and breathing.

"Pardon?" Regulus asked, stopping at the end of the bed, his eyes glued on Harry. He seemed to see through him and it was an uncomfortable feeling. Harry shivered, and Tom's hand tightened around him.

"You — but Siri —"

"Ah, my dear brother. Has he been telling some tales to you?" He pressed his lips together, his eyes still on Harry.

"I — I don't know," Harry stammered, flushing from the embarrassment. He was the Dark Lord for Merlin's beard! He wasn't supposed to stammer. Tom grumbled next to him, his fingers rubbing his side, easing him somewhat. "He told me that you died soon after I was born."

"That bastard," Regulus laughed, his face still twisted to an awful scowl. "Our parents died around your birth. He became Lord Black and disowned me, without a second thought, and, apparently, started to tell people I had died. Oh no, I had just graduated from Hogwarts and left Britain to study abroad. The education for healers isn't that great here and I wanted to become the best."

That made sense. Harry had no hopes for Sirius anymore, not after everything he had done to him and Tom, but a new fury lifted its head in his chest, getting Tom to purr. Sadistic, darling, you're sadistic, he sent to Tom. No one else would enjoy Harry's strong negative emotions as much as Tom.

He was furious for Regulus who was basically part of his family.

"I'm glad you're here, uncle," Harry teased, grinning when Regulus barked out a laugh before getting sober again.

"We both, little cousin, we both," he murmured. Harry felt Tom tensing and he glanced at him warningly. This is my family. My only family that's left with my Mother so you will not remind him about his behaviour. "So, shall we start with the medical check? I understand that you have been feeling quite bad for some time now. Can you tell me more?"

Harry met Regulus's eyes — grey like Sirius's, he noted — and recounted as much as he remembered from the previous weeks, Tom supplying some details Harry had forgotten. The thoughtful frown on Regulus's forehead got deeper.

"I will cast a few different diagnosis charms, just relax. When did you have your last heat and did they match with Lord Slytherin's rut?" Regulus asked, his expression neutral. Harry's cheeks felt hot for the question and he gulped audibly.

"It started four weeks ago and yes, they matched," Tom answered, saving Harry. You're silly, he's a healer and it's his job to ask these questions. He doesn't care about other things, Tom cooed between their minds like Harry was a baby to coddle.

The last diagnostic spell painted Harry with a pastel pink light, focusing especially on his abdomen. Regulus’s expression turned odd, kind of like a twisted delight. Harry frowned, his hand finding his stomach.

"What is it?" he asked when Regulus waved his wand again to the next spell that focused on his middle.

"I have great news for you, my Lords. Lord-Consort Slytherin is pregnant and —"

"What?" Harry shrieked. He pushed his hand firmly against his stomach like he could feel a baby through the skin. "H-how?"

"Yes. You were impregnated during your last heat when your heat and rut hit simultaneously. Is… it not good news?" Regulus explained, glancing between Tom and Harry.

Harry turned to look at Tom who was staring at him with a wonder. Harry felt like he was under scrutinisation, and his cheeks heated up.

"A child," Tom whispered. "You are with a child."

Harry swallowed and turned to look at his stomach which was so flat that it was impossible to think about the truth.

"If — if you don’t want to get a child right now, we can discuss different options," Regulus said, just to be faced with Tom’s furious expression.

"No!" he snapped. Harry took his hand and squeezed it, reminding him to keep his cool. "We had tried for the last few heats. We wanted a child. We — we thought it was — that something was wrong with either of us."

Regulus waved his wand again, this time enveloping Tom in the soft light. Harry wanted to ask more, to know more, but he couldn’t concentrate enough. A baby. A child. Our own.

"No, there’s nothing wrong with either of you. Sometimes it just takes longer for the seed to stick and heavy use of Dark Arts makes it often more difficult." Regulus’s eyes flashed before he looked at Harry. "I believe that it's best if I leave you two to get used to the idea. I will be back in a few days, to tell you more and answer all the possible questions."

Harry snapped out of his thoughts, a panic rearing through his body. He was now responsible for another person in his body. What if he did something to hurt the baby?

"How am I going to keep it safe? How about my nausea? It can’t do good that I can’t eat almost anything," he asked quickly before Regulus could leave.

"Your instincts will help you take care of it. Just… try to avoid duelling. The nausea should get easier within two months but I have a potion here that will help you to fight it. Drink one every morning and you will be able to keep everything inside," Regulus explained, digging his back and lifting multiple vials on the dresser.

"Thank you," Tom murmured, his eyes still on Harry, but it was as clear a dismissal to Regulus as any other. "I will contact you about our next appointment later. Are you able to be Harry’s maternity healer?"

"Of course. To be honest, my Lord, I had my suspicions already when you contacted me for this visit. I would have recommended one of my skilled colleagues if one of them was better at this. I’m not the best healer in Britain for nothing."

Harry tuned out the rest of the change between Tom and Regulus, his focus completely on the baby. It was still so abstract, so… unbelievable. They had almost given up, hadn’t they? That was the reason why they hadn’t thought of pregnancy while Harry’s symptoms so far were some most known for pregnancy, maybe slightly worse. But like Regulus had said, heavy use of Dark Arts made the impregnation more difficult, so maybe it also affected the symptoms.

Tom pulled him to his lap, his legs on either side of Tom’s thighs. Harry gasped when their mouth collided together with a clink of teeth, shaking him out of his wonder. Tom’s hands sneaked under his shirt, one caressing his stomach while the other tried to pull him closer. Tom pulled back, breaking the kiss, and leaned their foreheads together.

"I hope the child has your green eyes," Tom murmured. Harry grinned at the thought, kind of missing the emerald in his eyes that he had seen in the mirror over ten years earlier last time — if he didn’t count all the times he had cast a glamour to hide the real colour. They had turned to copper after he had made his horcrux, slowly changing to the deep red that he had achieved after taking his last step to be the Dark Lord.

"What if they have red eyes?" Harry threw back. He had no idea if the red eyes were an inheritable feature. Harry could feel how Tom frowned, their foreheads still pressed together.

"That's an interesting thought. I guess we just have to wait and see," Tom replied after a moment. His hand on Harry’s stomach slid to his back, pulling them flush together, and Harry purred contently. He snuggled Tom’s neck, scenting him with the scent glands on his cheeks. He knew that he couldn’t wrap his head around the news just yet but as long as Tom was with him, he would be fine.

Regulus came back sooner than Harry had thought — although, he had been so deep in the safe bubble with his alpha, cancelling almost every meeting for a few days, that he had probably forgotten the time. It didn’t mean that Regulus was an unwelcome guest, quite the opposite. Harry’s mind was full of questions that he hadn’t been able to answer from the tons of books Tom had brought to him.

However, the biggest question, to Tom’s dismay, was if they could have sex like usual and was the baby a boy or a girl — just for the sake of having an easier time talking about them.

"My Lords," Regulus greeted after getting out of the fireplace. "How have you been, Lord-Consort?"

"Bloody hell, call me Harry when we are in a private setting. You are my uncle and therefore entitled to use my first name," Harry complained, despite knowing that it was most likely futile, at least when Tom was there with them. Regulus ignored his words, continuing just staring him down. "Fine, I’ve been better. The potion helps with the nausea. The house elves are going crazy and bringing me something to eat all the time."

"Darling, don’t complain. You are now eating for two," Tom reminded him — like he could forget it! — and sat down next to him.

"Yes and this idiot husband of mine doesn’t allow me to do anything that has even the tiniest risk of getting hurt," Harry groaned. He could barely walk up the stairs by himself and they lived in a bloody five-floor castle if you didn't count the undergrounds! In a five-floor castle where everything was on different floors, their private rooms being on the top floor.

"Hmm, well, we all know how protective our Lord is of you, so I’m not exactly surprised. However, I must say that it’s not good for Lord-Consort's well-being to not move around. The pregnancy is only in a very early phase and you have months before you have to constrict your doings," Regulus explained without a flicker of fear that Harry would have waited from him.

He's not supposed to be scared of me when he's an acting healer of yours. He has to be able to say his professional opinion, Tom quipped to his mind. It made sense, Harry had to admit that, but it wasn't like Tom had cared about that ever before. You are carrying our heir, my dearest. Only best for them.

Regulus cast some diagnosis spells, different colours surrounding Harry's body from time to time while he had a parchment in his hand, a quill writing on its own. He frowned at something on the parchment before lifting his eyes to Harry.

"Everything seems to be right and well. You need to eat quite a bit more to replace everything you lost during the weeks you couldn't eat. I would say that the best treatment is to eat as much as you can, sleep full nights and move freely. I can promise that I will tell you when you are far enough to start avoiding something." Regulus's mouth was in a tight line when he glanced at Tom who had some sense to look guilty.

"Can I cast magic normally? Dark Arts?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself. Tom had taken his wand in fear of Harry's magic hurting the baby.

"Yes, of course," Regulus replied, his eyes flickering again to Tom who looked like he was reciting his latest arithmancy calculations in his mind. "I recommend some cautious with the Dark Arts but as long as you listen to your own body, you're fine. The fetus is good to tell you when something is threatening it."

"And magical transportation?" Tom asked. Harry groaned when he realised that Tom could very well just imprison him in the Castle if he wasn't able to travel by himself, the lands surrounding the grounds almost impossible to get through without magical means.

"Everything is fine. In a few months, it's not recommended to side Apparate another person with you, since the baby is technically also one person. Portkeys are good, as well as brooms as long as Lord-Consort doesn't do any brash movements and take any unnecessary risks."

"Thanks a lot," Harry groaned, knowing that Tom would ban his broom without delay. Regulus smiled at him before looking down at the parchment again.

"Has anyone done you an excessive health check during your life?" he asked. Harry's heart jumped to his throat when he thought backwards and realised that he didn't remember any. He shook his head. "All right. Madame Pomfrey has clearly ignored her duty to do the check for every first-year and —"

"What?" Tom cut in, his hissed word that barely sided English, cold and full of fury.

"M-my Lord?" Regulus asked hesitantly, his face paling. Harry turned to him, reaching to brush against Tom's cheek. Look at me, he asked silently through their bond, not appreciating at all that someone was in the room when Tom had gotten some kind of a realisation.

Tom's eyes were blazing, the flames almost visible behind his irises, when their eyes met. Harry probed forward, testing their bonds to see if he was able to get through and see what got Tom so furious. What is it? What did you realise?

You know how I got to know I'm a wizard. How I was throughout humiliated. It seems that I was also declined any health checks without my knowledge. Maybe even to stop myself from settling into the wizarding world fully until I was of age. Tom's face twisted to a scowl, and Harry activated the runes in their arms that gave them more privacy.

"My love, I don't know what they wanted to achieve by that, but I —," Harry stopped to think about the facts. He sighed and cradled Tom's face in his hands. "Or no, actually, I can believe that Dumbledore would think so far with his actions. We've seen it already."

"But why you?" Tom murmured, his eyes sweeping over Harry's features.

"I don't know. Maybe Dumbledore made the decision only after we had been sorted and he saw our closeness," Harry replied and shrugged. "But we can do nothing for it. Remind me, why did we never go to see a healer for a full check-up?"

"We don't trust them. They could find out our use of Dark Arts and report it to the Ministry."

Harry sighed again. He wanted to stay there, to look at Tom and talk through everything that was their messy life, but Regulus was still waiting. And Harry had a lot of questions. He deactivated the privacy ward and faced his healer again.

"So, I asked that only to make sure that I could find your childhood records but probably not. I need to get a blood sample to run a few tests but other than that you're healthy. There might be some lingering problems from something you've had as a child since Poppy hasn't taken care of them, but I will sort them out," he concluded. Harry breathed easier, knowing that it wasn't anything serious. "Do you have any questions? Either of you?"

"Can we have sex?" Harry asked quickly before his mind could stop him. He saw Tom shaking his head from the corner of his eye, but he had to know. He didn't want to spend the next nine months in a celibate and he reminded Tom about that too, again.

"Of course. It might do even good for the baby and especially later, it will help your body to relax. Endorphins and pheromones you give out during sex make the connection to the baby generally stronger too, for both of you." Harry blew the air out of his lungs, relieved that Regulus handled the question as a professional.

"Good. How about the gender?"

"Do you want to know it?" Regulus asked, his eyes wide from the surprise. Harry frowned, confused by the reaction before he nodded. "Ah, I'm sorry, my Lords. It's — it's not often used practice within pureblood families. The gender might affect how the parents would think about the baby, for example regarding the heirship, but there is also secondary gender to think about and you can rarely know that before the child hits puberty. I can examine the gender right now if you want to."

Should — should we wait then? Harry hesitated, but he felt only a strong resolution from Tom's side of the bond. Harry pushed warmth through the bond, telling his husband his own acceptance of his decision.

"We want to know it now," Tom said. He grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed it when Regulus lifted his wand to a new charm. It washed over Harry's abdomen, turning tiny sparkles to a shade of brown that told nothing to Harry.

It was quiet for a moment before Regulus straightened up and nodded, a smile spreading on his lips slowly.

"Congratulations, my Lords. You are getting a daughter."

Harry’s breath hitched and he turned to look at Tom who looked equally amazed. Their eyes met, and Harry felt a familiar burning behind his eyes while Tom’s looked damp too.

"Thank you, Regulus. You are dismissed," Tom rasped without taking his eyes off Harry. "A daughter," he repeated in a quiet hiss. Harry laughed before the tears finally spilled over and he ended up sobbing against Tom’s chest.

"Yes, my love, a daughter. We’re going to be the parents of a sweet little girl before the year is over," he mumbled against the front of Tom’s shirt, wetting it with his tears. His heart was so full that he was sure it would blow.

"Our little princess," Tom said, his voice thick and almost feverish from all the emotions. "And she’s growing inside you."

Tom pushed Harry back just enough so he could peel off the shirt, revealing Harry’s — still extremely flat — stomach. Tom’s scent picked up, filling with almost unbearable adoration, and Harry couldn’t help himself but blush, his tears flowing freely to his cheeks. Tom’s hands caressed his stomach, so innocent but intimate at the same time.

"You will be strong, powerful, magnificent, our little miracle," Tom murmured, his eyes locked on Harry's abdomen. Harry couldn't stop a sob from leaving his lips, his emotions going into overdrive. Tom shuddered visibly. "Your emotions…" he swallowed and moved his other hand to Harry's back, the position familiar from just a few days ago when Regulus had told them the news. "How can you feel so much?"

Tom lifted finally his face to look at Harry, his eyes shining suspiciously. Harry had so much in his mind and he wanted to say more than he was able to explain. In his weakness, he brought his hand between them, opening his palm upwards, showing finally a trick he had found out right after Tom's birthday. He had wanted to save it for a special moment and he supposed it was that.

He didn't need words to bring their bonds alive, strings of light surrounding them with their warm, colourful light.

"What is this?" Tom whispered, following the moving strands with his gaze. Harry hummed and pressed his face against Tom's neck. He was sure that it would change the colours, but he wasn't sure what would be the result. "Harry," Tom hissed suddenly. Harry opened his eyes and saw them swimming in the most beautiful golden light. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

This is our bond, he ended up telling Tom through their bond, seeing his words moving through it in one of the strings like lightning. Tom's eyes were full of wonder, his emotions unusually close to the surface.

"How?" Tom breathed, their eyes locking together. Harry gasped, trying to breathe while he was drowning in the darkness of Tom's eyes. He opened his mouth, wetted his lips but he couldn't utter a word. He wanted to continue staring at the strands but they made explaining impossible, so he closed his hand reluctantly, suppressing the visual proof of their soul bond. He swallowed around the lump in his throat before concentrating back on Tom's question.

"I'm not sure," he whispered.

"It shouldn't be possible." Tom frowned and his eyes searched for something on Harry's face. "You. You are a wonder, my dearest." Harry flushed, still not used to the praises Tom gave him freely. He looked down, seeing his bare stomach rising with his breathing.

"I just… kind of pushed our joined souls. I didn't think anything would happen, but it did. Our bond manifested visually to the front of my eyes." Tom gripped his chin and forced him to lift his head. Harry gasped at the intensity of Tom's gaze, shivering in the possessive hold.

"Only you, my darling, only you," Tom murmured before leaning forward and pressing his lips on Harry's. The kiss started as chaste, but with the build-up of their unwanted and unneeded celibate of a few days, it didn't last long. Tom nipped Harry's bottom lip and slipped his tongue in. Harry's blood started to boil, his thoughts surging down, between his legs. He sucked the tongue in his mouth, relishing the deep moan from Tom that muffled against his lips.

Harry let Tom dip them down willingly, his breathless begging soon breaking through their quiet gasps and moans.

Everything was truly well and everything had settled finally as they had planned. Before the year was over, they would have a family, the last steps of their plans scheduled at the start of next year if everything went as was meant. Harry was so ready for it all.

And when he sprang their bond to the air just before their shared orgasms, the light show that erupted at the moment of their orgasms, brought tears to both of their eyes from the sheer happiness.

Harry was getting bored in the Castle. It was big enough to entertain him for days to an end, but it was over a week since he left the Castle last time. They had lived there for years and he knew the floorplan from heart so it wasn't like he had places to explore — not that Tom would let him explore.

He kicked the doorway and cursed aloud, his annoyance moving to himself and to his stupidity. He had too much energy that couldn't be spent any other way than being out.

"M-my Lord?" Draco's hesitant voice came behind Harry. He swirled around, coming face to face with his closest Knight.

"What?" he growled, not in the mood to have anyone following him around.

"Are you hurt?"

Harry pushed his face to his hands, growling under his breath. Draco cowered as he was supposed to and if Harry was thankful for one thing at the moment, it was that. Draco was beta, technically more dominant than any omega was supposed to be, but he cowered in front of Harry, acknowledging his superiority that was much more than his second gender.

"Leave me!" he ordered, wanting to brood alone in their personal quarters. He did not want Draco even close to them.

"I — my Lord, you — I —"

"Stop that snivelling and say it," Harry hissed, on the verge of parseltongue. Draco paled and bowed his head quickly.

"Dark Lord Voldemort ordered me to follow you anywhere you go," Draco said barely above whispering. Harry leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling and trying to control his emotions. What in the Merlin's name is wrong with you? he pushed through the bond, knowing very well that Tom was in the Ministry, probably in the middle of a meeting. As he had guessed, he didn't get any response, even a mirrored emotion, so he turned around and waved Draco to follow him.

If he wasn't able to contact his husband in need, then he would go to him, no matter what he was doing.

Years ago, when they had established their control and power at the lead of the Knights, they had agreed that Tom's word went over Harry's in everything unless it was a Life and Death question. So far they hadn't needed to resort to that but if Tom wanted to control Harry's life even more, to stop him spending time alone, he would do just that.

"W-where are you going?" Draco stuttered, running after him.

"We are going to the Ministry. You know, the place where you are also supposed to be at work at the moment?" he called out, without a glance over his shoulder. At least the Castle was connected to the Floo network, allowing them to floo to the Ministry instead of apparating there.

"But — why? Wait! We can't just barge there," Draco objected, but Harry just waved his hand. "No, seriously! They don't know that you're the Dark Lord!"

Harry stopped in his tracks, whipping around with his wand in his hand. Draco stumbled when he tried to avoid colliding with him.

"Do you need a reminder of our positions?" Harry asked, his fury just growing with the way Draco was trying to tell him what to do. His blood was boiling in his veins, fuelling his anger even more and not even Draco's speed when he dropped to his knees, begging for mercy, eased it down. His hand twitched, wanting to curse the man. He crouched down and pushed the tip of his wand under Draco's chin, forcing him to lift his face.

"My Lord," Draco whimpered, but he looked steadily at him.

"Yes. They do not know of me being Dark Lord Slytherin. However, my dear husband is officially Lord Slytherin, and I am his Lord-Consort. As long as he has power in the Ministry, I do too." One of the perks of being an alpha-omega pair was that they were counted as one instead of two individuals in most instances. Things had the potential to become complicated in the future once the current Lord Potter passed, especially given his dislike of Tom.

"Yes, my Lord. I understand. I apologise," Draco murmured, lowering his head back down as soon as Harry withdrew his wand. He sneered at Draco and stepped back, watching how he relaxed.

"Crucio," he hissed, fascinated by the red light that was in the air only for a second before hitting Draco, ripping a deafening scream out of him. Harry counted to three before lifting the curse from the panting man. "You would have gotten more if your other Lord was here to see your transgression."

"I know, my Lord," Draco said through his gritted teeth. "I deserved the punishment."

Harry regarded him for a moment, his breathing coming easier now that he had gotten some of his fury out of his system. Draco wiped sweat off his forehead, his inhales still close to panting but he seemed overall better.

"Rise. If you insist on following me, you will come with me to the Ministry," Harry told him, turning back to the direction he was going. The sun filtered through the windows, giving a yellow hue to the paintings that were in the corridor. "Remind me to tell my husband that we need to connect more fireplaces to the Floo network!" he told Draco when he got to the stairs. He was only on the third floor but it would take a long to reach the receiving room fireplace. "Hell with the Castles," he muttered, tempted to hit the wall next to the painting that resided Salazar Slytherin’s great-grandson — an annoying fellow who thought Harry didn't deserve the parseltongue.

"My — my Lord?" Draco asked hesitantly, and Harry realised that he was losing control of himself. It was never good and he had to see Tom sooner rather than later but he couldn’t walk into the Ministry while his magic was going wild.

"Get me a potkey that is keyed to my husband’s current location," Harry said, not wanting to get any more attention to himself.

"Yes, my Lord," Draco said quickly without even an ounce of objection. Harry breathed easier, knowing that he could just portkey to Tom next time if he needed to see him.

The rest of the walk was relatively peaceful, Draco following him the exact three steps behind. Harry got his emotions and power under his tight control with a bit of time but he got it. At least the long distances are good for something, he snarked in his mind and poked the bond with no reaction.

Nausea that had disappeared with the potions came crashing back after he flooed to the Ministry and Harry had to press his hand against his stomach to avoid emptying its contents in the Atrium. People turned to look at him, most of them hurrying past but some froze to place stare at him. Harry straightened his back and lifted his chin, striding past the fireplaces as soon as Draco had followed him. He wasn’t sure where Tom was, but his office would be the best bet to start.

"Your wand?" the security wizard asked him, stopping him from walking through with his hand. Harry turned to glower at him, following as the wizard’s eyes widened. "Oh, Lord-Consort Slytherin! I’m truly sorry, I didn’t realise. Yes, go ahead."

Harry nodded and without a word continued his walk to the lifts. More heads turned to him, but he ignored them in favour to continue poking Tom through the bond that was stronger now that half of the country wasn’t between them.

"Lord-Consort Slytherin, where are we going?" Draco asked when they stopped in front of the lifts, his voice carefully blank. He avoided Harry’s eyes, looking at somewhere around his nose, keeping the act that they were merely two acquaintances.

"To my husband’s office. It is a good place to start," Harry told him, eyeing the lift that was emptying of people. There was a group of aurors waiting to get in and Harry had no desire to get stuck on the same lift with his father, but he couldn’t see a familiar hair anywhere. Taking the risk, he took the lift, settling close to the back corner, Draco in front of him.

"That’s —," Draco started, getting interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Harry! What are you doing here?"

Harry closed his eyes and took a few measured breaths before looking straight at James Potter. He had avoided his father for the last ten years as much as possible, not wanting to trigger his sometimes volatile temperament. It was just his luck to see him there and it didn’t bode well to his visit. Plastering a sweet smile on his lips, he looked over Draco’s shoulder, noticing how his… guard had tensed.

"Greetings, Father. Why, you ask, but should not I have a right to see my husband whenever I want?" He giggled for good measure, acting like a dumb omega who was devoted to his alpha. Not that Harry thought any omega should be acting like that, suspecting that most of the time their behaviour followed an extensive abuse by their alpha. His father's eyes widened in shock before he managed to school his expression to neutral, and he had wanted exactly that.

"I… see. Your mom has been worried about you."

"Why?" Harry asked, furrowing his brows in confusion. He didn’t think he had told his Mother anything that would suggest something was wrong. And James’s face told him very clearly that he had spoken without thinking, revealing something he shouldn’t have. Harry knew exactly what that was but he wasn’t going to tell his father he had realised it too.

The metallic voice announced their arrival at Level 2 where both, Auror Headquarters and offices for Wizengamot members were located. James glanced at his colleagues before taking a step closer to Harry, completely ignoring Draco between them.

"Come to visit me after you’re ready. I have something to tell you. Say my regards to Riddle." He turned around and marched out of the lift, leaving Harry to look after him. He felt Draco’s eyes on him, multiple questions probably burning his tongue but at least he was wise enough to say them aloud.

Harry brushed his robes and stepped through the door, following James and the other aurors quietly, thankful that he had to turn in the opposite direction and didn't need to walk by the Auror Headquarters. He held his head high when he strode through the familiar corridors. Someone tried to call after him, but Harry ignored them, trusting Draco to handle any issues he might leave behind with his unexpected arrival.

"Lord Slytherin — ah, Lord-Consort, my apologies. Lord Slytherin is in the meeting upstairs. Should I call him back?" Tom’s secretary, one of their Knights, asked when Harry stopped in front of his desk.

Harry thought quickly, knowing that the only meetings happening upstairs were the ones with the Minister.

"How long would it be until he is free?" he asked just when Draco appeared by his side. A glance at the man confirmed that Harry had been right in his assessment that he would take care of everything.

"It should end in half an hour but they have plans to continue with lunch," the secretary told him, his voice wavering under Harry’s hard stare.

"Very well. Send him a message that I will be waiting for him in his room for lunch. He is better come with food." He wanted to add I’m annoyed with him, but it was one of the things they had agreed early on: the problems in their relationship were private and no one deserved to know about them. He hoped that just maybe, maybe, Tom had let his frustration through his Occlumency he used often during the important meetings, and understood Harry's emotions without telling him so.

Harry opened Tom's door and when Draco made his attempt to follow, he growled.

"If you insist on following me everywhere, I require you to stay outside," he commanded, his nerves at risk of blowing up completely. He felt a headache creeping closer and he just wanted to get Tom here right now and scent him throughout.

Harry pushed the door close quickly behind him and leaned to it, taking a deep breath. He hated the hormones that had started to act after the pregnancy had started. One moment, he was furious about something and the next moment, he wanted to crawl onto Tom's lap and cry on him.

The door budged behind Harry's back and he leapt to the other side of the room, almost sure that he had been trapped. He growled under his breath, his wand shooting to his waiting hand from the holster strapped around his forearm.

The door opened and Harry tightened his hold on his wand, his mind reaching out to Tom in panic.

Chapter Text

03 | You Feel It All Inside

◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈

Tom masked his sigh when he felt Harry sending him something again. He felt like something was wrong but in that case, Harry would have sent his Patronus, so he ignored it the best he could, turning his attention back to the Minister. Madame Bagnold was a polite woman with a lot of patience and passion and it was almost sad that she had decided to retire. It was good for Harry's and Tom's plans, but she didn't need to know that. Instead, Tom was sad that he would need to work with someone more incompetent after the election, as Fudge was most likely winning them.

Tom glanced at Lucius who was sitting next to him, his head tilted slightly to the side. He had to admit to himself that it became harder and harder to focus on the meeting when the distressed emotions trickling through their bonds got stronger.

Got stronger.

Tom almost shot to his feet when he realised that Harry was in the Ministry. He had ordered Draco to make sure that Harry wouldn't leave the grounds, but of course, he had forgotten how stubborn Harry was and no one could stop him from doing something. Harry had been distressed, so of course his inner omega automatically wanted to get closer to his alpha.

Tom tapped his knee under the table, waiting for the meeting to finish. He knew that if Harry needed him immediately, he would've told Tom's secretary to get him. That wasn't the case so he had to wait and remember to keep a polite expression on his face. It was mostly just political mundane, nothing that would matter in the big picture, especially after the election. Why had he come there?

A piece of paper appeared in front of him, the text visible only to him.

Lord-Consort Slytherin is waiting for you in your office. He said 'You better bring lunch'. Younger Mr Malfoy is waiting outside of your door.

Tom knew that it didn't mean he would be needed right now but it was a good ploy and it would take more time to pick up some food Harry would like.

"Minister, Lord Malfoy, I am sorry to interrupt. My husband is waiting for me in my office. Could you excuse me?" he asked politely, keeping a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Trouble in paradise?" Minister asked, smiling properly. Tom was going to deny it when he realised that he had a good place to get some things through during Minister Bagnold's last months as the Minister.

”Not quite,” he said, making his voice almost shy. ”It is a delicate matter and Harry’s hormones are running high. You understand, don’t you, Minister?” The Minister’s eyes widened when she took Tom’s words.

”Oh, of course. May I congratulate you and your Lord-Consort? Enjoy these months before you have more… things on your plate. When is the due date?”

”In October. I require your silence in that matter. It wouldn’t do good to have our opponents know that I will be more absent at the end of the year. Don’t you agree?” Tom asked, setting everything up carefully. He felt Lucius’s eyes on him and couldn’t be more happy about all the vows they had made him swear eleven years ago, stopping him from gossiping.

”Yes. Congratulations, Lord Slytherin. Be sure to send an owl when the little one is born.” The Minister's eyes crinkled from the corners when she smiled warmly, and Tom wanted to scoff at her. He kept his face carefully blank, only keeping a small smile as a facade.

”Thank you, I will. I take my leave now but please, continue. I can read the memo afterwards.” Tom stood up, his mind already cataloguing the foods Harry might want to eat and settling on Indian cuisine he could get from Muggle London close to the entrance of the Ministry.

It didn’t take long for Tom to return to his office door with steaming food. He nodded at his secretary and shot a look at Draco who shuddered before dismissing himself. The emotional turmoil from Harry was rampaging in his mind stronger than he could handle it and when his relax, I’m coming didn’t go through the wall, he pushed the door open after a small difficulty.

The scent of distressed omega, his omega, hit his face forcefully, almost making him drop the bag of food. Harry growled somewhere behind the door before the sound turned to whimpers, tugging Tom’s heart painfully.

”Darling, my dearest, love, my omega,” he grumbled. He stepped fully into the room and closed to the room, coming face to face with Harry’s wand. ”It’s just me,” he murmured, letting his Occlumency walls slide down completely. Harry’s emotions filled him, tearing a gasp out of him. He kept an eye on Harry and lowered the bag to his desk before stepping closer to his omega.

Harry’s eyes were hazy and his glamour had dropped down at some point, showing his red eyes that looked like rubies when he was holding back his tears. Tom stepped slowly closer until he could wrap his fingers around Harry’s wand.

Harry swayed and staggered forward until he slumped against Tom’s chest. Tom sighed and wrapped his hands around his omega, trying to comfort him with grumbling while Harry’s — finally unleashed — tears wetted the front of his shirt. He stroked Harry’s back and delved into their bonds, trying to send as much safety, comfort and love as possible. He picked up Harry’s emotions, examining them closer, and noticed fading fury and annoyance in the background while anxiety and fear were in front.

”What is it?” Tom asked in a soft hiss when Harry’s sobs slowed. He pressed a kiss on top of Harry’s hair, running his fingers on his spine.

“I – I just want to be like always,” Harry hiccupped, but it didn’t take off the pleasure of hearing parseltongue from him. Every time that happened, Tom’s heart speeded up, started to really hammer against his ribcage.

Tom was confused for a moment about where Harry’s words came from until he remembered. He had sat down with Draco just last night, telling him to follow Harry everywhere since Tom couldn’t stay at home for longer. He had pushed a few meetings here and there forward so he would be able to spend as much time as possible with Harry, but as the elections were creeping closer, he couldn’t do that forever.

And of course, it had been too much for Harry’s pregnancy hormone-induced mind and he should have realised it without Harry’s breakdown. Draco had probably taken his words too literally, preferring to overdo them in fear of getting punished.

“Darling, I cannot allow you to move without someone guarding you,” he murmured as softly as he could. Harry attempted to pull back, but Tom just tightened his hands around him, pressing closer.

“I should be able to move around my own home freely. I can protect myself and our home is the strongest fortress in Britain and Ireland. No one would be able to get in without you knowing it and they would still be miles away at the borders. We have house-elves who can keep their eye on me without me feeling like I’m under constant surveillance.”

Harry made sense, Tom had to admit it, but he didn’t trust the Order, especially when they had at least one spy within their Knights. He trusted even less on house-elves who could mask their loyalty well from new masters.

“I feel safer if –”

“No!” Harry blew up, changing back to English and Tom mourned it, despite the frustrated expression on Harry’s face. “If you want me to kill someone in my anger, please tell me so I can do it for you. But Draco is one of the best, I don’t want to punish him, and we’re not even talking about killing, for no real reason. Our private quarters in the castle are private to make sure that we are always able to show ourselves there, to express ourselves freely without the fear of judgment. What would happen if we allowed Draco in? What would happen if – and when, since Draco can’t be always guarding me, he has his own work! – we allowed even more of our Knights in?” Harry breathed harshly. He had finally succeeded in pulling back, and Tom's hands twitched by his sides.

“I – I guess that it would destroy the purpose of those rooms,” Tom admitted, ashamed that he hadn’t thought it to the end and Harry had to point the fault in his doings for him. He lowered his eyes to the floor, his chest feeling cold now that Harry was out of his hands.

“Exactly. How about the bathroom? Did you think that the guard would follow me there too? They would be able to see me.” Tom knew that Harry was taunting him, making him feel even worse, but his alpha side couldn’t take any insinuation towards someone else seeing Harry naked.

“Omega,” he hissed, his voice sounding strange in his own ears. He lifted his chin up and stared straight at Harry’s blazing eyes. “No one will see you like that. No one.” His voice sounded even weirder in English.

"If you want them to follow me everywhere in our home, then they will follow me to the bathroom," Harry snapped. "I will not have anyone following me in our home like a lost puppy. Do you understand?"

Tom swallowed, two sides of the topic fighting with each other in his mind.

Everything went quiet and Tom looked around before he fastened his eyes on Harry who was… it wasn't exactly a smile, way more colder than that, terrifyingly so. And Tom realised, that for the first time in years, Harry had lifted his Occlumency walls completely, stopping all of his emotions trickling to Tom.

"No, no, no, no, don't take it from me," Tom whispered in panic, his breaths coming out in shallow gasps. He felt so cold, so alone and he knew that he would go crazy quickly without the gentle hum of Harry's feelings.

"If you force me to endure everything your instincts tell you to do during my pregnancy, I will do that. I will do that for every pregnancy I will go through."

Tom was a mess. He couldn't understand Harry now that he didn't have any additional way to read him and his inner alpha was clawing his chest, like he wanted to rip through it, to get out, just so he could dig in behind Harry's ribcage. They had had their mating bond for thirteen years and horcrux bond for twelve, almost half of their lives. The emptiness felt like someone had carved a big part of Tom out, like — like cutting half of his limbs off.

Tom took a staggering step forward, reaching out to Harry, but he just stepped aside. It hurt. It hurt so much that Tom hadn't known it was possible.

"Harry, please," he begged, not caring even the slightest how he sounded like. There was only Harry to listen to him so why did it even matter? They had known each other so long, stayed by each other's sides through everything. Was it just Harry's hormones or something else that was making him create a barrier between them? "I'll do anything," he whispered, realising only then that it was true.

"Even to remove guards?" Harry asked and crossed his arms on his chest. Tom wanted to just get closer, to feel Harry, but he couldn't.

"Yes but — but not completely. I prefer you to stay at the Castle, but if you truly need to leave it and I cannot accompany you, you will take at least two Knights with you," Tom said, presenting his option. He had thought about it at some point until he had started to think how dangerous their home could be. Harry regarded him for a moment, the cold wall still between them.

"I can accept that," he finally said. The wall crumbled and the flood of Harry's emotions felt like a warm bath after staying in the cold too long; perfect and so comfortable that Tom's knees buckled.

Tom submerged from their bonds to the feeling of Harry's arms around him. They were lying on the couch in Tom's office, Harry cuddling against his chest.

"I'm sorry," Tom murmured, pressing his lips on Harry's forehead.

"I know," Harry returned softly, leaning his head backwards. Tom knew what he wanted, his own body reacting without a thought when he leaned in and kissed Harry slowly. His lips were as soft and warm as always and so responsive, that Tom couldn't resist the temptation to deepen the kiss. He manoeuvred them around so Harry was on top of him, their legs tangling together. The fire was pooling in his lower abdomen and he wanted more.

Harry pulled back gasping for air. His lips were swollen and he had a nice flush on his cheeks.

"We can't," he murmured when Tom pressed his lips to Harry's chin.

"Why not?"

"This — we — Merlin," Harry groaned when Tom nipped his skin just under the chin.

"Yes?" Tom laughed, relaxing back on the couch. He could smell the slick and feel the small bulge in front of Harry's trousers. "You can't exactly leave in this condition."

"How are your wards?" Harry answered, his resolve clearly crumbling when Tom's hands sneaked inside his robes and pulled his shirt out of his trousers, his fingertips tracing the skin just above his waistband.

"No one will get in unless I want them to, and no sound will drift outside." Tom wanted to get more friction to his own half-hard cock, especially after their previous fight. He wanted to feel complete, in a way that he could only get when he was seated inside Harry's hole.

"Fine. Fine. You're impossible," Harry muttered, but his voice lacked any annoyance. Tom smiled, pulling Harry tighter against his front, especially his crotch. He hummed and peppered small kisses around Harry's face. Harry giggled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Their eyes met and Tom was sure that he could live in Harry's eyes forever. With a fluid movement, Tom rolled them around so Harry was his back against the couch and he was hovering over him.

"I'm so glad you think so," Tom murmured before leaning down. His lips brushed against Harry's, a low fire spreading in his stomach. He wanted to do everything, anything, be hard and cruel but so soft and gentle at the same time. He wanted to consume and be consumed. Before Harry could answer properly to his kiss, he moved lower, gracing his lips against Harry's chin and towards a tender place below his ear. Harry sighed when he sucked the skin there, slightly using his teeth to nib it.

Tom sat up and helped Harry out of his robes and shirt. He brushed the nipples which had turned more sensitive with Harry's pregnancy, starting to get ready to produce milk for a baby.

"It's quite sad you don't lactate just yet," Tom purred, massaging the skin around the nubs. Harry's flush darkened but his scent spiked with stronger arousal, giving Tom a hint of how the words affected him.

"Alpha," Harry whined, his bach arching from the couch. Tom salivated for the view below him, Harry's eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly open, his erection more prominent now that he didn't have his robes to hide it.

"Soon, my sweet omega, soon," Tom murmured, unbuttoning his own robes and shirt teasingly slowly, revealing the pale skin of his chest bit by bit. Harry's eyes on him were full of hunger and devotion, his love almost tangible in the stifling Ministry office. Harry's breath hitched when Tom dropped the robes and shirt from his shoulder and moved his fingers to his belt. His cock pulsed under the tight and unyielding fabric, making it almost painful.

Tom groaned when he got his trousers open and lowered them with his pants to his tights. Harry had still too many clothes and Tom was tempted to just spell them away. He moved Harry's legs and quickly undid his trousers and stripped him, leaving him completely bare minus his socks. His blood pounded in his veins when he looked down at Harry. He remembered the collar Harry had gifted him years ago to wrap around Harry's throat.

"I will buy you a new collar. Something that cannot be destroyed by magic or anything else and only I can take it off," he hissed and feeling bold, wrapped his fingers around Harry's throat. He didn't squeeze, but the touch alone got Harry to lift his hips, seeking some friction for his erection and hole that was probably aching from emptiness.

"Yes, yes, alpha," he moaned, his hand sneaking between his legs. Tom growled and grabbed the wrist, pinning it over Harry's head. It brought them closer together and Tom couldn't resist the temptation to lean down and kiss Harry, their moans mixing together when more of their skin touched. With a wave of his hand, Tom spelt his own pants and trousers off. He bit Harry's bottom lip before caressing it with his tongue, wanting to taste Harry's sweet blood.

"You're so wet for your alpha," he groaned when he touched Harry's hole. The slick was leaking out of him rapidly, wetting the fabric under him, but Tom didn't care about the mess. He wanted to get in, to give Harry what he wanted, to feel his omega's walls contracting around himself. He wanted to feel complete, to heal the wound Harry had made by closing his side of the bonds.

"Alpha," his omega begged, the one word telling everything. He was so good, so utterly perfect.

"Yes, my omega," Tom breathed, pushing his hard cock into the tight heat. His tights shook from the effort, the narrow couch slightly uncomfortable and for a second he was afraid that they would fall to the floor. Harry's mindless babbling dragged his mind back to his omega under him. Their eyes met up and Tom realised he was so close to coming already, his balls tight and ready to free his cum.

Tom shoved his hand between them, stroking Harry's cock while his rhythm got more erratic, the slap of their skins obscenely loud in the room. Harry's arousal pressed against his mind stronger, their noises changing more urgent with their approaching orgasms.

It rolled over Tom so surprisingly that his whole body shook with the force of his orgasm. He bit on Harry's mating gland on instincts, breaking the thin skin and feeling the swell of blood in his mouth. Harry's inner muscles tightened around him, milking his cock almost painfully right after his own orgasm. Harry's cock shot slick between them and onto Tom's fingers.

Harry's whole body went slack and Tom pulled out of him carefully. He caged Harry between his arms and rolled them around carefully so neither of them wouldn't fall to the floor. He felt finally good, content, with his omega in his hands. Harry stirred groaning, his body shaking slightly, and Tom rubbed his back slowly, easing him down.

"Relax, my love," he murmured and pressed a kiss onto Harry's hair. "I don't have more meetings today so you can take a nap if you want to." It sounded nice, but he knew he had too much work to rest just yet. His inner alpha purred at the thought of his omega spending his days in Tom's office, on his sight, but Tom had to admit it was even riskier than keeping Harry at home where only Death Eaters and their chosen people could reach him.

"Sleep with me," Harry mumbled. It was so tempting and Tom wanted to give in, to take an hour or two to be so close to Harry, to feel his heartbeat and breathing against himself.

"I — I have a lot of work," he whispered and brushed loose strands out of Harry's face.

"You can continue tomorrow," Harry countered, and he was right, Tom had to give him that.

"An hour," he gave up. He reached out for his wand and when it flew into his hand, he set up an alarm. Securing his arms around Harry's upper body, he turned them to the side, Harry's back against the back of the couch, without any chance of falling. Tom dropped a kiss on Harry's forehead before closing his eyes and following Harry to sleep.

"Carefully!" Tom yelled when he noticed Harry close to the stove.

"How did you even know I was there?" Harry muttered loud enough for Tom to hear it. He laughed in reply, twirling around with the knife in his hand as he pointed at Harry.

"I can feel exactly where you are," he said before turning back to the vegetables he was chopping. Usually, he did it with magic but as Harry wanted to do cooking with muggle ways and Tom was still worried about how the magic would affect their baby girl, he had resumed doing things by hand.

"You should let me do something too," Harry whined, and Tom had a hard time resisting his pleading, but the thought of sharps knives close to Harry's abdomen resolved the issue.

"You can… go to pick up the wine," Tom suggested, laughing at Harry's deep groan. He could give anything to keep Harry far away from the things that could hurt him or the baby and if he walked the stairs from the top floor to the wine cellar, chose the wine and came back up, it would take at least fifteen minutes from him. It would be enough time for Tom to get all the preparations ready.

"Varin!" Harry called out, a soft pop telling that the house elf appeared in front of Harry.

"What can Varin do for Master Harry?" Tom wasn't sure if he was more annoyed or amused how Harry had figured out the way around his instructions, though it wasn't wonder when they had been together so long.

"Bring us a wine that would be a good combination with this food," Harry asked, and Tom could imagine how he waved around the kitchen. Varin disappeared, returning a few minutes later when Tom was almost ready with the vegetables and he had had to shoo Harry away twice.

"Darling, would you be so nice and set the table?" Tom asked, when Harry came again to nuzzle his neck, sliding his hands in a really distracting way to Tom's front.

"I've done it already," came a murmured response. Tom sighed, ready to give up. He had wanted to have a nice and relaxing evening with his husband, with a food that they had done, well, together. Harry sucked his earlobe to his mouth, and Tom gasped, his resolve crumbling completely.

"Fine, fine! You can do what you want as long as you stay away from the stove and knives." Tom had no idea what could be something Harry was able to do but that gave him something to think about. He scowled at the cabbage, hitting the knife through it violently.

"Oh! I can make a dessert. If I do something that needs an oven, I can always ask you to do it," Harry chimed, detaching himself from Tom's back. Tom nodded. He wanted to hit his head on the wall for his oblivious stupidity.

"Tell me, why didn't I realise that as an option?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Harry who was lifting some bowls out of the cupboard. He had put an apron on, his hair suddenly in a messy bun on top of his head. He looked so… home. Tom didn't have any other word for it. He had stopped chopping to just look at Harry who hummed happily while dancing around the kitchen.

"Master Snakey," one of the house elves whispered from the doorway. Tom glanced at him, his eyebrows quirked up for a silent question. "Why are you cooking by yourself? A kitchen is not a place for a lord such as yourself." Tom leaned his head back, groaning aloud. They went through the same discussion at least twice a year. Tom always got it through the thick skull of original house elves that he and Harry loved to spend time in the kitchen when both of them were free. The kitchen in their private quarters was homey for a reason.

"We are enjoying ourselves, having fun. Report to Briar right at this moment for your punishment," Tom commanded tightly, ready to turn back to Harry's baking. The house elf squeaked before disappearing with a pop. Tom sighed, setting the knife down gently before massaging his temples.

"Headache?" Harry asked, glancing at him. Tom shook his head before ruffling his hair. Harry was already his hands on the bowl, kneading something.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked, inching closer. He told himself he just wanted to see the bowl, but well, if he wanted to touch Harry, no one would fault him. He brushed his fingers against Harry's side, getting him to squirm and giggle.

"Blueberry pie. I wanted to do something else but since I can't use any sharp utensils, thanks to Mister Mother Hen, this has to be enough." Harry had a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Tom groaned, pressing his forehead to Harry's shoulder.

"You're the one who's going to be a mother," he murmured. He stepped back with a yelp when Harry hit him with his elbow.

"We've talked about this. We won't use the M-word. I'm as much of a father as you are, despite me being pregnant, giving birth and having a womb," Harry growled, and Tom knew he had stepped over the line.

"I apologise, my dearest," he said, staring at Harry with widened eyes which he would call —

"Don't make puppy eyes on me. I know how to resist them," Harry laughed, and Tom accepted it. It was exactly what he had aimed for, to get Harry bright again. "Go on, you should be cooking if we want to get food anytime soon. I could be helping you, you know?"

"No!" Tom hurried and returned to his counter. He chopped the last of the vegetables before dropping them into a bowl. He seasoned them before checking the meat in the pot. It started to look good, so with a sigh, he picked up the bowl and emptied it into a pan he had pre-heated.

"Smells good," Harry complimented. Tom nodded, smiling down to their dinner which started to come slowly together. "Could you put this in the oven?" he asked. Tom lifted his head and realised that Harry had really managed to pull a pie together in ten minutes.

"You are magnificent," he told Harry, taking a dish to himself. It would be fine in the oven for the next twenty minutes while they finished the cooking.

"Thank you, dearest. You're not worse either," Harry laughed, the sound bright in the room. Tom couldn't help but smile softly at his husband. He couldn't believe that at the end of the year, they would have a baby with them, hopefully giggling in the kitchen while they joked and danced around, with the sparkles of magic surrounding them.

Harry drew a deep breath, his whole being concentrating to the moment, before he snapped his eyes open, looking at the three prisoners. They were in the deepest ritual chamber and Tom was drawing the ritual circle, his hands more stable than Harry's for carving the detailed runes that had to be exactly right.

Before they had reached the level of Dark Lords, they had dabbled mostly with tested Dark Arts and rituals, their self-preservation driving over the need for more knowledge. After that level… They had gotten so much more understanding about the Dark Arts through the ancient scrolls that were delivered somehow to everyone who filled the requirements — Tom was still frustrated that he hadn't been able to figure out how it happened. Was it magic or someone who was keeping their eyes on everything?

The scrolls had contained magic and rituals they hadn't been able to confirm but mostly because there were under five Dark Lords in the whole world, Harry and Tom being two of them.

So now, for years, they had performed rituals that only Dark Lords were able to do. For their surprise, their scrolls had included rituals also for pair of Dark Lords and after all the research it seemed like someone had created those rituals for them, because there weren't any mentions of other Dark Lord pairs in the history.

It was exhilarating and unsettling at the same time.

And since most of the rituals needed some conduit, they often used prisoners, either muggles they had abducted from the streets or even few muggleborns who had been sharing their secrets to the muggles, endangering the whole wizarding world.

Now, they had three prisoners in front of them, giving their life force to the ritual they had attempted once before. Of course, it only revealed its secret after Harry got pregnant so it was finally time to get it done. Two of the prisoners were weak muggles but the last one… Harry couldn't wait to get the ritual started. The last one was one of the Order, someone who had tried to stop them from starting the production of the Elixir of Rapture, foolishly thinking that he could do it by himself.

They had kept him for weeks already, interrogating him by them and Bellatrix, who was one of the most enthusiastic torturers from the Knights. Tom had attacked his mind relentlessly, trying to see who was the spy but they hadn't figured it out yet. They had seen a woman talking about the Knights, heard her name and voice but she wasn't any of their Knights, so she was most likely using either polyjuice or some kind of glamour.

It was impossible to step into the Slytherin Castle with polyjuice or glamour intact unless you were one of the residents, so she most likely used it for the Order. It was infuriating.

”I knew!” The Order member raged. Harry tried to remember his name, but couldn’t get it to the top of his mind, not caring about the nameless guy even a bit. He had dug his hole all by himself, and Lucius had made sure that he wasn’t missed for weeks.

”Shut up already. Don’t you see that your protests are futile,” Harry murmured, stepping closer to him. He couldn’t wait to slide his throat open, to see blood pouring out of the gaping wound. The guy lunged towards him, his shackles stopping him. Harry felt Tom glancing at him, his attention still firmly on the runes.

Harry let his power fill himself, knowing very well that it made his eyes shine like two bulbs. The guy cowered whimpering, trying to back away, but a flick of Harry’s hand tightened his bounds, sticking him in place.

”Don’t, please,” he begged, his eyes filled with tears. Harry laughed, the sound cold and cruel in the stone-walled chamber. He stepped closer and took hold of his chin, squeezing his fingers tightly. Tom’s excitement and anticipation radiated from the other side of the room, his eyes again on Harry.

”Darling, don’t kill him just yet,” Tom hissed, amusement echoing from his voice. The muggles shook violently. They had been silenced, their terror and pleas too annoying to avoid killing them at the wrong moment. But this, this Order bastard, was fun.

”Don’t be so cruel,” Harry pouted, looking at his husband over his shoulder. ”Wouldn’t it be delicious, to paint these walls with his blood?” The guy wailed, his tears hitting Harry’s fingers. Harry detached his hand, flicking his wet fingers with his tongue. ”Mm, salty, full of fear. How delicious.”

”Love,” Tom drawled, warning him from stepping over the line. ”We are almost ready. Make your preparations.”

Harry nodded and left the prisoners alone. He centered himself while walking towards the furthest corner where was a small desk, full of candles. He had a clear assignment as he grabbed seven candles and settled them around the circle with even gaps. He glanced at Tom who had shrugged his robes off and rolled his sleeves, showing his pale arms. It was a view that got Harry almost to stop with the candles. He loved how casual Tom looked like.

"Harry," Tom hissed, reminding him to continue, and Harry just grinned. He lit the candles with a wave of his wand. He stared at the prisoners, regretting that they had to be killed for the ritual. They were so much more fun alive, especially as Harry couldn't show his true nature in front of their Knights so they wouldn't fear him as much as Tom. He was supposed to be a soft leader, while Tom was cruel. His job was to cushion everything Tom did, to keep everyone loyal to them even when Tom cursed them with multiple Crucios.

But with the prisoners… With them Harry could release all of the anger and fury he felt so often, to really hurt them until Tom got tired of listening to their begging.

"Are you sure that we need that Order guy?" he asked for the last time. Tom huffed audibly, his shoes clicking against the floor when he came closer.

"Yes, I am sure. I'll get you another one soon, so you can have your fun," he promised. Harry laughed and turned to Tom who had stopped by his side.

"Thank you, my dearest," he said, taking a step closer and pulling Tom down for the all-consuming kiss. He would have wanted to continue, but Tom pushed him back, amusement flickering between them.

"That's enough. We have some work to do and we must concentrate on that," he told Harry and took his place in the circle. Harry hummed and followed his lead, taking his own place by his side. They were facing the prisoners who had their eyes wide open. They shivered from the terror and Harry enjoyed smelling it in the air.

Tom started with the incantation, his specialty being in this kind of rituals while Harry was better with death. Harry fed his magic to the ritual and a wind blew through the room, setting his hair flying around him. The power was intoxiating, flowing through his body without hitch. The muggles fell to the floor, their feet giving up under them, and Harry smiled when he saw the blood pooling to the stones that were under their heads.

"So mote it be," Tom ended his part. He stepped forward and crouched in front of the muggles with his ritual knife in his hand. Harry lifted the silencing charms, wanting to hear their last words, to hear their begging when Tom sliced through both of their throats, collecting the blood to the goblet. The Order guy was still standing, but his face was pale. Harry bit his tongue to taste his own blood before starting his own incantation.

He had memorised it again just some weeks ago when they had revised all of their rituals and noticed a new addition in the description of this ritual. It was meant to strengthen a fetus and parents and it had been an easy choice. They wanted to give everything they could to the girl growing in Harry's womb, so the chances of miscarriage would be lower — at least naturally. Harry didn't have any plans to get to the situation where their princess would be at risk, so it was good to have some other means to protect her from the initial stress that was sure to come now that they had started to properly get ready for the war.

"So mote it be," he said at last, his eyes locked on the Order guy who was barely standing up. He got closer to him, his own ritual knife glinting when the light hit it.

"Please, don't —", the guy tried to beg, but Harry didn't let him continue. He sank the knife into his neck, cutting through the soft muscle and hard tendons, breaking the artery easily. Tom handed him the same goblet that was already halfway full of blood. The guy gurgled, wet sounds abhorrent in the silence that followed. He swayed on his feet before falling down, the back of his head hitting the stone with a loud crack. Harry crouched down and lifted his head enough to get the blood flow to the goblet until its surface touched the rim.

Harry moved to the dedicated smaller circle inside of the big ritual circle before lifting the goblet onto his lips. The smell of blood, a strong iron and something unnamed filled his nose. Their eyes connected before Tom started to chant the next part of the ritual. Harry inhaled deeply and tipped the goblet back. The blood filled his senses, its taste always somewhat neutral but the full goblet was a lot of blood. More than Harry had drunk ever before during any ritual so he focused on keeping his stomach calm while swallowing more of the thick and still warm blood.

A warmth spread in Harry's body, starting from his toes and moving upwards, circling around his lower abdomen where his womb was before continuing to his head and arms. It stopped at the same time as the goblet got empty and Tom's voice faded to the silence. Harry lowered the goblet and closed his eyes, feeling his insides and body. He felt good, better than in a long time. His lips curved up when Tom sent a silent inquery at him.

"It worked," he whispered and opened his eyes. Tom's eyes were full of power, full of darkness, and Harry knew his own were the same. It was a familiar aftermath of every ritual they did as their power flew differently through them now that they were strongly connected to the Darkness. He stretched his fingers and tiny sparkles left them, hissing when they hit the floor. He laughed breathlessly, grinning like a fool when he touched his stomach. He could feel another power, a magical core there. "Bloody hell," he swore, pushing his hand tighter against his stomach. He could feel the pulse, her pulse. "Tom!"

Tom looked confused when he rushed to Harry's side. Harry just smiled, reaching out for his hand and settling it onto his stomach.

"What?" Tom asked, his eyes flickering between his own hand and Harry's eyes.

"Feel it. Feel the magic," Harry told him, covering Tom's fingers with his own. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of a steady pulse. He snapped his eyes open, staring at Tom's expression. He hoped it wasn't something only he could feel as the bearer. He wanted Tom to feel it by himself, not through their connection. It was a wonder, like a proof they had waited for.

Tom's eyes widened and swelled, telling Harry that he had felt it. The relief rushed through Harry.

"Our daughter, our darling," Tom whispered, staring at his hand.

"Our daughter," Harry repeated, pulling Tom to kiss.

Chapter Text

04 | The Masks We Wear

◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈

Harry was nervous. He knew he didn't have any reason to be because Lily Potter was his Mother, not just some stranger. But... he had decided to tell his Mother about his pregnancy. Now that he was ten weeks pregnant, hitting the three-month mark only in a few short weeks. He would be in his second trimester so soon that he had difficulties wrapping his mind around it.

The flames turned to green, and Harry straightened his back and brushed some invisible dust off from his robes. He had no idea how his Mother would react, but he knew James wouldn't be even remotely happy about it.

"Harry," Lily greeted him warmly, pulling him to hug. "I'm so glad you invited me. Usually, we meet outside of this place and we saw only some glimpses during your weddings."

"Mother, thank you for coming," Harry replied, returning the hug happily. It was safe, in its own way. Nothing like Tom's, but it was a privilege to have a mother who accepted eagerly every hug when he was in his thirties. You're only twenty-nine, Tom supplied to his mind and Harry almost cursed aloud. He hadn't known that Tom was following their discussion. "Do you want a proper tour?" he asked Lily while he was busy trying to mirror displease to Tom.

"It would be an honour to see the Castle," Lily accepted, his whole demeanour excited and Harry couldn't fault her for that. The guests had only seen one of the formal wings and courtyard during the weddings, rest of the Castle was locked from them but it was possible to see the size and atmosphere even from the courtyard.

This is a private discussion. You shouldn't be eavesdropping, Harry snarked at Tom when he gave his arm politely to Lily.

Fine. I'll come to find you later to say hi to her.

Harry rolled his eyes and led Lily to the first corridor. He tried to map out the place in his mind, thinking in what order to show everything. They hadn't decided which room would be the nursery but it didn't matter, it would be on the top floor anyway.

"How — how are you?" Lily asked, hesitation making her voice wavering slightly. Harry had decided early on that he would not lie to Lily about the fact that someone was spying on them for the Order. He trusted his Mother to keep things secret, but he wanted to make sure that she knew that they knew.

"Mother, you clearly need a lesson about subtlety. I know that you know about my illness," he sighed, acting more tired than he really was. He glanced at his side and saw that Lily had blushed. "I'm better. It's nothing serious and it's under... treatment." It would be so easy to just tell it now, he thought, fighting with himself what to do.

"What was it?" Lily asked, pulling them to stop. Harry stepped to look through the window, admiring the view of the lake. It was difficult to see the walls around the grounds on the other side of the lake this far, but he knew that they were there, giving some physical protection on top of the layered and ancient wards.

"Let's talk about it later. Shall we continue the round?" Harry asked, his mind made up. He turned to look at his Mother who studied him for a moment before nodding.

"Fine. I trust you will tell me today. I just wish you told me earlier on your own accord." Harry nodded, understanding the feeling. He didn't feel guilt about it, but he understood why Lily thought so.

Harry led Lily quickly through the first floor because it was definitely the most boring floor apart from the cellar, which had only a huge wine cellar, the main kitchen and house elves' and servants' living quarters. Dungeons, on the other hand, were one of Harry's favourite things in the castle, but they weren't something he could show to his Mother. The second floor was only slightly more interesting, with a better view and two big potion labs. Lily lingered at the table, brushing gently a cauldron that was probably as ancient as the castle itself.

"You have quite a selection here, despite that neither of you has an interest in brewing," Lily quipped, but she was smiling. Harry grunted from the back of his throat in protest because they did brew from time to time. Lily glanced at him, her eyebrows quirked in question.

"We do, believe me or not. Slughorn wasn't the most inspiring potions professor in Hogwarts but... well, Lord Prince has helped us a lot during the years. Tom is interested in everything he can grasp and he's natural in almost everything," Harry told her and shrugged, feeling slightly awkward about talking about his Mother's best friend at all.

"Yes, Sev is good with his things. I'm glad he's been helpful." Harry doubted it, but he kept his mouth shut and instead nodded. "Why do you even have two potions labs? I could understand one, but two." Harry laughed, remembering his own confusion from years ago.

"I'm not sure if both of these are built by Salazar Slytherin, but you have to remember that he's the one behind this building and these grounds. This place is huge. It could house three times as big a family as the Weasleys, but still has enough room to feel kind of empty."

"Hmm, yes, I remember. It's like Hogwarts wasn't enough for him."

"Probably not. We Slytherins are ambitious so he probably wanted more. Though, it's up to debate if this is built before or after Hogwarts. We, as every previous generation, want to keep this place private so we don't allow any researchers here and the... official documents only state the estimated building century which is the same as Hogwarts was built."

They retreated to the corridor, Lily's eyes taking everything in. Harry noticed one of the paintings had one extra face and he scowled.

"Corvinus, return back to your own painting," he commanded one of Salazar's great-great-great-great-grand child — or something like that. It was one of the worst sprouting prejudiced bullshit.

"No mudblood can order me around," Corvinus muttered just loud enough to make out the words. Lily gasped, but Harry couldn't think about her at the moment.

"Do you want me to get Salazar?" Harry asked, quirking his eyebrow. "He would pick you up from your neck and carry you back to your own painting."

"You wouldn't dare. Current Lord Slytherin wouldn't like that," the man protested, but his voice wavered slightly.

"Do you want to try? Current Lord Slytherin is my husband and even though I am his omega — I know you think lowly of me partly because of it — he listens to me. Haven't you seen proof enough already?"

"Fine. How Slytherins have fallen," Corvinus hissed, marching out of the frame. Harry sighed and turned back to his Mother who was gaping at him.

"Sorry," he muttered and rubbed his neck. "Not all the paintings are happy with me being Lord-Consort Slytherin but at the same time, they forget that Tom is a half-blood too. Salazar is usually on our side and most of the paintings are scared of him, making him a perfect threat."

"You have everyone clearly wrapped around your finger, haven't you?" Lily asked, her eyes mirroring strong fondness when she looked at Harry.

"It might be the case," Harry laughed before starting their walk again, leading them to the West Wing where they could take the stairs to the third floor. "So, the second floor is mostly still more formal rooms than not, with Tom's public office. Really boring, to be honest," Harry concluded, trying to make the castle more boring than it was. "But the third floor is more interesting with our huge library. It's probably five times bigger than Hogwarts Library."

"This is huge. How can you find around? How are you not tired of walking stairs up and down multiple times a day? At least, tell me that you can apparate inside of the grounds," Lily asked, almost pleading. Harry grimaced, shaking his head.

"We have a tight security. Tom can lighten the wards with a hand wave to allow us to apparate, but only in an emergency. We've just gotten used to it. But let me tell you when we moved in!" They got to the stairs and Harry showed Lily the balcony that was looking over the front garden. They stood there side by side while Harry told his Mother how they had familiaraised themselves to the floor plan by hiding from each other and then seeking out the other. Though he left out the part where they had sex in the room Harry had been hiding in...

Harry had a hard time getting Lily out of the library. She frowned at some of the books she saw, but they didn't drive her away from the room that oozed dark magic. Harry toyed with the thought of her, possibly, at least grey magical core since anyone with a purely light core would feel nausea when even stepping into the room shortly, but the whole notion felt ridiculous.

Not as ridiculous as you feel like, darling. Your dark core had to come somewhere and it couldn't have been only my influence, Tom murmured into his mind. Harry sighed, gathering his courage to ask something he had wanted to ask since he started in Hogwarts.

"Hey, Mom," he started, choosing to use the informal name to soften his question. He was scared of the answer, scared of how his Mother would react.

"What is it, darling?" Lily asked, ripping finally her eyes off the tall bookcases. She seemed to notice that Harry had something important on his mind.

"When you started in Hogwarts..." Harry stopped to hesitate, but an encouraging nudge from Tom got him to continue. "Did the Sorting Hat think of Slytherin for you?" He looked anywhere but at Lily. The silence was defeating before Lily breathed audibly in and out.

"Do you want to sit down for a moment?" she asked. Harry nodded, waving towards the couch at the opposite from the main door. He followed his Mother carefully, not wanting to draw any additional attention to himself. "So, well, do you know what is the... shall we say, requirement, to be and to be called as a hatstall?"

"They sit on the chair for more than two minutes and they have at least two Houses that are equally as good for them."

"That's right, although not a full explanation. It has a few other stipulations that are usually really difficult to point out, even after the sorting. And yes, I was a hatstall, I would've been perfect for both Gryffindor and Slytherin," Lily admitted close to the whisper. Harry closed his eyes, feeling the pain when he realised how much James's talks had been probably hurting her too.

"Why did it choose Gryffindor for you? You were sorted before —," Harry swallowed, his instincts wanting him to use correct titles but the personal discussion needing a softer approach, "— before Uncle Sev. Didn't you know that he would be a Slytherin?"

"We knew that he would be sorted most likely into Slytherin, so yes. Well, um, Sev had warned me beforehand how Slytherins weren't that nice to the muggle-borns. He said that if possible, it would be better if I went to any other House. However, we didn't realise that it would be Gryffindor, he had been sure that my other option would be Ravenclaw. So, technically I tried to keep the promise I had made but also tried to fight my way to the Ravenclaw, but the Hat was insistent that I wouldn't be good there. And I guess it was right, but... you know the fights between these two houses."

Woah, wait, what? Tom asked Harry who wanted to berate him for eavesdropping, but he was also shocked and couldn't concentrate enough to do that. His mind was reeling, his emotions whirling in his chest wildly.

"So... Merlin. If I had known that... James —"

"No, he can't know that," Lily interrupted him. Harry glanced at her and saw mixed emotions on her face. He frowned, confused over his Mother's reaction.

"But — if he loves you, he should accept it as part of yourself. It shouldn't matter." He pulled his braided hair in front of him, playing with the tip of it before taking the tie off and opening it.

"You're right, it shouldn't matter, but... I don't want to talk about this with you. You are our son, it's not your job to bear our personal problems. When has your hair grown so much?" Lily changed the topic and Harry let her, realising that more pushing would just do more bad than good.

"Oh, they are always tied so they don't seem so long most of the time," Harry laughed, threading his fingers through his long curls. "Tom didn't have enough time to braid them in the morning and I can't do it even remotely as well as him, so I guess I got tired of the messy braid I had."

"Can — Can I?" Lily asked. Harry glanced at her and saw her looking at his hair. He shrugged and climbed on the floor, settling against the front of the couch. Lily took a better position before conjuring a comb and starting to brush Harry's hair. "Do you think that I made a mistake by choosing Gryffindor over Slytherin?" she asked after a moment of silence.

Yes, Tom answered quickly, but Harry didn't agree with him, not in this.

"No. It shaped you into the person you are now," he told her, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"Did I make a mistake by choosing James?" The question was whispered, just loud enough for Harry to hear it. This time he agreed with Tom's yes, but he couldn't say that to his Mother who sounded scared, heartbroken.

"I don't know. And besides, no one could have foreseen how it would go, how he would turn out. He... he is not a good father, but it's not your fault." It was freeing to say it aloud. Lily was quiet for a long time, while she braided Harry's hair. Harry let her be, guessing that it was probably difficult to hear the facts so straight.

You're an idiot sometimes, Tom scoffed through their bond and Harry could feel his frustration. He almost growled around before remembering his company.

Come here in person if you do it better than I, he muttered and started to count seconds. Tom was visiting Lord Malfoy if Harry remembered correctly, so it should take at least ten minutes before Tom arrived. Just enough for Lily to get his hair sorted.

"Yes, I realise it now. I'm so sorry that I couldn't be a better support for you when you were growing up. For you and Tom both. He would have deserved better too."

"Mum, you realise that he had nothing before us? It didn't matter to him and it wasn't like we weren't used to the similar stuff in Hogwarts too," Harry pointed out, hoping to get the discussion over before Tom would be there. He obviously wasn't eavesdropping at the moment since he didn't comment on Lily's words in any way.

"I know but it doesn't mean that he had to be content with our messed-up family," Lily countered, her tone making Harry's chest ache for her. "Ah, your hair is ready. I haven't done braids in a long time but I'd say that I still did well."

Harry looked at his Mother over his shoulder before conjuring a mirror and looking over. She had done something that looked like a French braid but it was a bit different. He frowned and followed the braid with his fingers.

"I think it's really good, thank you," he said. He felt Tom appearing in the same location with him, meaning that he had just flooed back to the Castle. "Come, Tom will be joining us soon and we still have two and a half more floors to go through. You will be the first one outside of two of us to see our personal, private, quarters that are strictly behind the wards stopping anyone we want from entering." It was a small lie, but he couldn't just tell that Regulus had visited them before her.

"How nice of him! I thought he was too busy for that, but I'm happy he could make time for me," Lily laughed, her mood clearly rising back up after their depressing topics.

"How rude of you, Mrs Potter! Of course, I make time for my favourite in-law," Tom quipped, stepping through the doorway. Harry couldn't help but smile at him. "What are you doing on the floor, my darling?"

"Mother braided my hair and I didn't have time yet to get up," Harry laughed, reaching out for help that Tom gave him without objection, pulling him up from the floor. They ended up pressed against each other and Harry's breathless hi got almost lost when Tom bent to kiss him. Only Lily's cough got them apart, a bright blush decorating Harry's cheeks.

"Let's see," Tom said, without any outward signs of his possible embarrassment. Instead, he twirled Harry around before nodding his acceptance. "Very good, your Mother is a very talented witch."

"Maybe — maybe I should leave?" Lily said — or maybe suggested? Harry wasn't sure but he hurried to shake his head because he hadn't told yet. "We can always continue the round at a later date. This is so big place that it's not a surprise that it's difficult to do in one day."

"It's —," Tom started and Harry knew he would agree, but he couldn't let it happen.

"Wait! There is, um, actually something. I — I promised to tell you about that... illness, didn't I? Let's — let's sit down and talk about that for a moment," Harry cut in, hating his stammering over everything at that moment. Lily looked confused but took her place on the couch, crossing her leg over another. Tom led Harry to the other couch so they could face each other, his hand warm and soft, his fingers wrapped around Harry's.

"What is it, dear?" Lily asked when Harry just gnawed his bottom lip.

Can you say it or do I? Tom asked through their bond when Harry had tried to say something a few times but always closed his mouth without a voice.

I say. Or no, I don't know how to tell her. You can say it, he answered, still doubting his choice.

"I'm pregnant," he blurted out anyway before Tom could do anything to tell the news to Lily.

Harry heard his pulse in his ears when he waited for his Mother's response.

"Mum?" Harry asked, his mind thinking that this was a mistake until Tom squeezed his hand tightly.

"Congratulations, my dears. Honestly, I'm so happy for you," Lily replied finally, the weird emotions in her expression fading out and being replaced by a wide smile. "So, it was... morning nausea?"

"Oh, it was worse than that," Harry said, laughing from the pure relief. "I had it all the time. Only after I got a potion for it, it stopped." He glanced at Tom, thinking of Regulus, but Tom just shook his head. Harry sighed. He would've wanted to tell his Mother how Sirius's supposedly dead brother was very much alive, but Tom was right. Lily could keep this as a secret but something like that, especially as it was connected to Sirius, would be more difficult.

"That's good. I remember that my first symptom with you was constant nausea. It must be a family feature," Lily laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "When is the due date?"

"Last day of September," Tom told her. "She'll be one of the oldest students in her class when she starts in Hogwarts."

"She?" Lily asked, quirking her eyebrows. Harry's cheeks heated, despite that he knew Lily was more accepting than purebloods since she had grown up in the muggle world.

"Yes, we are having a princess," Harry admitted, pressing his hand against his stomach. It has been a habit of his for some time already, even though he couldn't feel the baby's movements yet.

"Oh... Oh my... I'm going to be a grandmother," Lily whispered suddenly, her eyes widening. Harry frowned at her in confusion.

"What?"

"I — I guess I just didn't realise it before now that I am really going to be a grandmother. At the end of September. Though, firstborns are usually late so maybe closer to the middle of October."

"It's a bit different with omega males," Harry said quietly, his blush darkening. He didn't want to particularly talk with her about his body, but... He had thought of it, the idea of having his Mother in the birth so Tom could be purely there for his support while his Mother would know technical parts of the birth — not that Tom wasn't going to research them — when Regulus focused to help the baby out of Harry.

"How does it affect?" Lily asked, the familiar glint of curiosity lightning in her eyes. Harry shuffled in his seat, thinking back to the book he had read about the pregnancies of omega males. His face was burning but he knew that he had to talk about it.

"I have all the needed... parts for giving birth naturally, but it's more delicate. There are more risks for both the baby and myself."

"Who is your maternity healer? Or does it have another name since you're not exactly a mother," Lily asked. She squinted her eyes, looking at Harry with a thoughtful expression.

Don't tell her, Tom commanded in his mind. Harry glanced at his husband, asking for a reason. We can't take any risks that the Order gets to know Regulus is alive and well after his brother convinced everyone he's dead. It's better this way. I will explain later. Tom's words aroused suspicion in Harry, but it wasn't the place to ask more questions. He glared at him, giving a clear warning of the upcoming interrogation. Tom sighed and rolled his eyes and only after that Harry turned back to his Mother.

"You know how archaic our world is relating omegas, meaning that I will be officially a mother of our daughter since I delivered her. I have an excellent maternity healer who knows his stuff from all around the world," he told Lily.

"What? But — how? You are a man, you should be the father, not a mother!" she ranted. It warmed Harry's insides, even though he had a somewhat neutral stance on this topic. He wouldn't be a mother, that they had agreed soon after Regulus had confirmed his pregnancy and it was all that mattered to him. There were so many other things wrong with the way how the wizarding world saw the omegas, so this topic wasn't even near the top of his list.

"Mother, I just told you. Our world is archaic with its views of omegas," Harry repeated, glad that the topic had distracted Lily from the name of his maternity healer.

"God, that's — no. I'm sad you have to be an omega and meet all of this," she muttered. Harry glanced at Tom who just shrugged before wrapping his hand around Harry's middle better.

"I'm not sad about that at all," he said firmly, not wanting to hear about how he would be better being a beta. He wouldn't be standing by Tom's side — despite all of Tom's objections — if he wasn't an omega. And anyway, it wasn't worth regret. They couldn't do anything about it, even if Harry wanted to change it. Which he did not want.

"But —," Lily started, but her eyes caught how Harry leaned against Tom's side, Tom's hand possessively on Harry's stomach. Her eyes widened before she averted her gaze, nodding with her lips in a firm line. "All right. I understand."  Her words were quiet. "I — if you have nothing else, I think I'm better to leave. Or...?"

"Oh, well, you could always stay for dinner if you wanted to, but you are also free to leave," Tom told her. Harry almost groaned, thinking of how Tom was trying to avoid his interrogation. Just trying to delay it, darling, Tom said through their bond. Harry shook his head. His husband was impossible.

"Oh, no, not at all, I won't interrupt your dinner. I'm sure James has cooked something for me." Lily's words were shallow, like she didn't believe them at all. Harry wanted to say something, but he didn't want to give an empty apology. He was at a loss for words. She stood up and smiled at Harry before nodding her head. "Yes, I will take my leave. I'm sure I can find my way to the receiving room, we're not that far."

Lily was out of the room faster than Harry could blink. He was confused. She didn't usually leave so fast. He turned to look at Tom, suspicion rolling in his mind. Tom's smile looked innocent, but Harry prodded deeper, finding that he had tried to use wordless Imperio.

"You — she's my Mother! You have a nerve," Harry growled, sneaking his hand into Tom's hair and tugging it harshly. Tom's smile widened, the innocence leaving it and replaced by smugness.

"Darling, you have to admit that it was clever. I suspected already that it wouldn't catch, because she's just as fierce as you are," he said. Harry rolled his eyes, giving up on that fight, at least for now. He had another interrogation on his hands already and he wanted to get through it first. Tom was, after all, right. It hadn't hurt Lily.

"Darling, calm down," Tom urged, his own patience wearing thin when he felt Harry's annoyance and anger through their bonds. He was sure that the blame lay partly in Harry's pregnancy hormones that had made him feel a lot.

"No!" Harry hissed viciously, continuing to pace in front of the fireplace. Tom swallowed, following Harry's steps and fearing for his stress. Regulus has recommended strongly avoiding it as much as possible, especially during the first trimester when miscarriages were common with male omegas. "You have no right to keep any secrets from me!"

Tom had to admit that Harry was right about that. He had been trying to protect everyone and not every secret was his to tell. But he should've told the things he could.

"I'm sorry, my dearest," he murmured, stepping in front of Harry who tried to circle him, but Tom didn't have that. He wrapped his hands tightly around Harry's middle, forcing him to effectively stop and stay there. "Breath. I can't tell you everything but I will say as much as I can." He grumbled, stroking Harry's back and hoping it to calm him down. When Harry slumped against him, Tom couldn't help but smile. He nuzzled Harry's hair before scooping him up — Harry let out a shriek —  and lowering them both to the armchair, Harry on his lap.

"Okay. Tell me then," Harry muttered, but his emotions had calmed significantly so it was mostly just an act. Tom pulled him to his chest, checking quickly the wards and where everyone present was in the Castle. For the sake of privacy, he activated their own privacy wards too, feeling the slight vibration around them from his magic.

"We have a surprising spy in the Order," he started. He stopped to think about his words. Could he tell the identity of said spy? He wanted to tell it, but there were multiple things in play. Harry was expecting more information, he knew that much. "I — I'm not sure it's the right time to tell you just yet who is the spy. But... They are married with Regulus." He held his breath, waiting for any reaction, but it didn't come. He let the air out of his lungs, trying to relax.

"What?" Harry asked suddenly. Tom pushed him back enough so he could look at his face. There was a shock in his expression, but thankfully he didn't look angry anymore. "How — what — why?"

"They are... inside. It's not that I wouldn't trust you, not at all, but they have expressed their wish to remain in the shadows. I will send them a request to meet you because you are right. I shouldn't keep this big thing in secret from you, especially as you are my equal, my partner, my companion in leading our Knights. You are their Lord. You are their Dark Lord Slytherin."

"As you are their Dark Lord Voldemort," Harry responded, their traditional change playing out without an effort. Tom grinned and brushed Harry's cheekbones with his thumbs before diving forward, claiming his lips. Merlin, how much he loved their titles, fooling everyone whenever they would step forward and publicly claim to be... real and not just a story to tell to the small children.

Tom pulled back gasping for breath and pulled Harry back to his chest, so his face was lying on Tom's neck.

"I am truly sorry. Do you believe me?" Tom asked after a while. Harry had taught him to apologise, but he felt insecure every time, fearing that Harry wouldn't believe him.

"Of course. You're forgiven. I hope you won't keep similar secrets anymore. You know, if you hadn't been there, I might've told my Mother about Regulus," Harry murmured, his lips brushing against the skin on his neck. Tom shivered before pulling himself back together.

"You know that I don't think she would spy on us. She will keep her mouth shut, hopefully, about your pregnancy too because she knows Dumbledore has been planning something for you now that you've been ill. She wouldn't take any risks for her granddaughter, I'm sure of that. We still have to be cautious."

"Oh. That spy. They are the reason you know about every meeting the Order has, right? I thought Severus was your spy," Harry admitted. Tom smiled softly and kissed the top of Harry's head.

"Technically, he is, but he's not on the inside. Dumbledore knows we have spies so he has compartmentalised, same as us. I didn't think it fair that we would make him spy on them when there's his best friend, your Mother. I don't want to jeopardise his loyalty for some mundane things we can get from other spies."

"I must admit, that's clever thinking from you," Harry complimented, and Tom laughed and kissed Harry quickly before leaning back.

"Darling, don't tell me you thought me stupid." He grinned when Harry just rolled his eyes. "Are we clear now?" he asked after a moment of silence, wanting to be sure that this topic wouldn't come between them in the future.

"Oh, how about my Mother? You tried to control her," Harry asked, and Tom wanted to groan. He had known beforehand that it wouldn't take, Lily being so strong-willed that she would never listen to any orders. It was the main reason Tom hadn't thought about luring Lily to their side. She had a strong sense of justice and it would become a problem sooner rather than later.

"I am sorry for that," he murmured, cradling Harry's face in his hands. Harry bit his bottom lip, his silence stretching until Tom wanted to squirm if not for Harry perched on his lap and stopping that effectively. It was like he was waiting for a sentence.

"I'm not the one you should apologise to," he said finally, and Tom squeezed his eyes closed, an uncomfortable feeling starting to coil in his stomach. Harry had taught him to apologise but only to him. Tom had never needed to say it to anyone else while meaning it, but he knew that Harry wouldn't accept a half-hearted apology. No, he required a full and honest one, the kind that Tom was scared of every time he had to say it to Harry.

"I don't know how," he whispered, lowering his eyes on Harry's lap. He was embarrassed and it wasn't an emotion he was used to. Harry's fingers grabbed his chin and forced him to lift his head.

"I will help you. I'll be there, for you. You can do it, but you must learn to apologise to others too. Yes, it's rare but it happens. I'll be with you in every step," Harry said, his tone so soft that Tom's heart ached. He didn't know for what, and he massaged his chest while looking at Harry's eyes and feeling the free flow of emotions between them. He nodded, not really knowing what else to say. "I believe in you. She's the only one I will require you to apologise when you've done something."

Tom swallowed around the lump in his throat and leaned his forehead against Harry's, their eyes glued to each other. He hated to feel so much.

"Should I make another horcrux?" he blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth after the words had left him. He knew Harry's opinion of the matter and looking at his expression to darken just made him feel bad. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came to me," he admitted, casting his eyes down in shame.

"We had a deal," Harry reminded him. And Tom remembered, he knew it without saying. He felt the pulse of their deal on Harry's left ring finger where his third horcrux was sitting, under the wedding band.

"I know," he murmured when Harry seemed to be waiting for a reply, "I know it. No more horcruxes until you have done your second."

"And I will never do a second horcrux," Harry said, making Tom squirm under him. Tom knew Harry's opinion, but he couldn't stop thinking of it. It was a constant nagging in the back of his head, how Harry would lose his horcrux if Tom died. What if someone killed Tom first and then Harry? Harry would be dead. There wouldn't be saving him after that. It wasn't even about how Tom wanted to do one more. In truth, he couldn't care about it less. They just gave some benefits, especially with handling emotions.

"I know, though I'd be ready to vow not to make more horcruxes even if you made a second one," Tom told him, honesty making his voice sound vulnerable.

"Come here, silly," Harry said, pulling him to meet his lips. Tom breathed easier, knowing that Harry hadn't really angered over the topic.

Tom massaged his temples, staring at the papers before him. He wanted to get home, to wrap his hands around Harry and feel the warmth seeping from him, but no, he had still one more meeting with both of the Malfoy men related to the elections that were coming up fast.

He checked the numbers one more time before there was a knock.

"Come in!" he called out, knowing that there wouldn't be anyone else than Draco and Lucius. No one would be able to get past his secretary without him knowing it well before they were knocking on the door. Lucius stepped in first as an older of them, despite Draco being higher in the ranks. Tom frowned. It wasn't usual and rank was more important than age. He didn't care about Lucius being Draco's father or Lord Malfoy. Draco had proved himself more trustful than his father ever. Tom kept him around mostly for his political skills, though he was planning on getting rid of him as soon as Britain was finally theirs. He couldn't wait for that.

The door closed with a soft thud, and both of them bowed deep, murmured my lord echoing in the room. Tom waved to the doors, impatient to get the meeting out of his way so he would be able to return home.

"Draco, how was Harry before you left?" he checked first. He didn't like that he had to pull Draco out of his guard duty, but he didn't want to deal with Lucius alone. In any other situation, Harry would have been in the meeting with them, but Tom had denied firmly his attendance to any of the election business, especially before he reached the second trimester. It was only a few weeks away, but Tom kept himself firm with the decision.

"He tried to sneak to the Ministry after me, but Theo and Daphne were quick to realise it and stopped him in time," Draco reported. Tom closed his eyes for a few seconds, wanting to massage his temples again, but he couldn't show any form of weakness, especially in front of Lucius. Draco had seen a lot, and sometimes Tom thought he had seen too much, but it was kind of a relief that there was someone who knew more than just a facade Tom and Harry kept on while in public or in front of their Knights.

"Did he hurt them?" he asked, worried that Harry had blown his caring act in his pregnancy hormones.

"No, my Lord," Draco replied curtly, and Tom nodded. He knew he would have a lot to fix when he got home, but at least he wouldn't need to Obliviate them. He glanced at Lucius who looked between them, confusion etched onto his face.

"You will not talk about this change to anyone outside of this room," Tom ordered, not taking even the smallest chance that Lucius would realise the innuendos within the discussion and gossip about them.

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius agreed, his voice wavering with something. Tom wasn't interested enough to figure it out, so he turned to his papers.

"So, the surveys are slightly for Crouch Sr at the moment, but we have still time to change that. Barty hasn't yet done anything for his father as he has been waiting for our final plans for him, so we will erase him from the elections next week. How is Fudge feeling?" he asked, focusing on his work. He could feel Harry tapping their connection and he wanted to let him in, but his Occlumency kept, making sure that Harry wouldn't be able to see even a glimpse of the meeting. Harry's annoyance thrummed onto him, but Tom ignored it.

"He has a good feeling about elections. And no, he doesn't suspect anything weird," Lucius told him, and Tom nodded. He was glad about it as their plans could backfire the worst way if Fudge started to doubt something.

"What are you —," Draco started, but a knock interrupted him. Tom glanced at the clock and smirked, knowing exactly who was behind the door. He hadn't been happy about the plan, wanting to avoid all the possible meetings between the two men, but Harry had talked him over it, as a plan to terrify Lucius even more.

"Come in," Tom invited, opening the door with a wave of his hands. Barty was standing behind it, a mad grin almost matching Tom's smirk. The man stepped in, closing the door behind him softly before bowing.

"My Lord! I'm overjoyed to be here," Barty sang, his voice as boyish as ever, despite him being almost twenty years older than Tom and Harry. He even looked younger than his age, his golden locks and soft cheeks giving him an almost innocent look.

"Yes, Barty. Sit down, so we can get on," Tom commanded, not wanting to use additional time for some praises. "Draco, you were asking something." Draco swallowed, his eyes flickering to Barty before turning to look at his father who had paled considerably.

"Yes. I wanted to know what you have planned for Crouch Sr," Draco continued like nothing had happened. He had a knowing glint in his eyes, like he had realised what Tom had planned. Barty sat down next to Draco but his whole body was vibrating like he couldn't stay in place.

"After our latest ritual, Harry's last... toy got killed. I promised him to get a new one soon. Who would be better than Crouch Sr?" Tom's smile got a cruel turn, Barty's and Draco's expressions matching his when they realised what he implied.

"Oh, do you think he would allow me to join him for one of his sessions?" Barty asked, his eyes lightened with glee. Tom thought for a moment. Harry had allowed Barty to follow a few of his torture sessions, but to join? It would be a privilege, something over Barty's rank. Draco was barely high enough to join and he wanted to do that rarely, his blood-thirst considerably smaller than Tom's or Harry's.

"I'm afraid that I can't answer for him," Tom admitted finally, grimacing when Barty's face fell. He didn't like to disappoint Barty who was like an excited puppy most of the time. "You can ask him later today when you return to the Castle," he offered, to soften the impact at least somewhat. Barty nodded, not offering anything more.

"What do you mean by that?" Lucius cut in, his usually emotionless pureblood mask cracked for once with his frown. Tom quirked his eyebrows when he prodded his connection to Harry.

Do you want to follow as we tell Lucius about your torture sessions? he asked as soon as he got Harry's attention. Harry's quiet annoyance turned to interest and Tom felt his presence to settle on his mind.

"While almost everyone believes that your Lord-Consort Slytherin is a soft and caring Dark Lord, forgetting that it needs cruelty to be a Dark Lord, behind his soft cover is even a worse torturer than myself. While I give mercy by killing my prisoner, he heals them over and over again — if they got to that bad shape that they wouldn't survive through the night — and starts the torture again." Tom enjoyed Lucius's scandalised expression, his evident nausea over Harry's actions.

"N-no," Lucius stuttered, squeezing his eyes close.

"Oh? Your son has proven it, even attended a few times. Barty has seen it. If you want proof, step into the dungeons where we have always some prisoners ready to be Harry's playthings. Unfortunately, most of them are just muggles, their body betraying faster than wizards', but with the speed Harry goes through the prisoners, it would arouse suspicion fast in the wizarding world. No, he has to settle for muggles most of the time, but it might be... an interesting visit."

I can't wait to see him here, Harry laughed in his mind when Lucius turned greener.

"I — I think —," Lucius couldn't get the words out before he retched. Tom conjured a bowl under him quickly.

"You are embarrassing," Draco hissed at his father whose forehead glistened with sweat.

"Now, now, Draco," Tom chided, Harry's amusement adding his own emotions so much that it was difficult to keep a straight face. "Your father just heard it for the first time. I allow him to be sick over it for this one time, it is completely normal. However, we still had things to speak about. Lucius, are you able to continue? You can leave if you want to." Tom hoped that Lucius would just take his leave, not wanting to order that but of course luck wasn't on his side when Lucius pulled himself together and nodded, his lips pressed tightly together.

"Can I get my father, can I?" Barty asked, almost jumping on his chair with excitement. Tom caught himself in time to not sigh, Barty's childish eagerness slightly too much for his tightening nerves. He realised that Harry was still present in his mind, so he started pushing him out before turning his attention to his companions.

"Yes, Barty, you will catch him with Draco and — no, do not interrupt me. You will not be able to get him without additional help. He is a powerful wizard with a lot of experience from his department. I will not allow you to go after him alone, so you won't get killed or worse." Tom stared at Barty's eyes, keeping him captive in his gaze while he checked with Legilimency if he had plans to do exactly that.

"Yes, my Lord," Barty replied when Tom let him free. He hadn't seen any plans to do against his words which he was thankful for but he was still cautious.

"Good. Lucius, what are the risks that someone else will step up to run for the Minister against Fudge?" Tom asked, turning his focus on Lucius. It was easy to see how he had to shake himself out of his earlier thoughts.

"There's always a chance that for example, Madame Bones will step up, but it is so close to the elections — only three months — so no one would have enough time to campaign." Tom was pleased about the news, though he had guessed that much.

"I believe that this is all for now. We will see later this week in our regular team meetings, but be ready if I call you earlier," Tom said, dismissing others. "Draco, I will go home, so your presence is not required there for the rest of the evening."

Draco nodded and stood up, Lucius and Barty following his lead. They all bowed before leaving the room, and Tom sighed, finally lowering his Occlumency completely, letting Harry's emotions fill his mind. He missed his husband terribly, his inner alpha wanting to be by his omega's side all the time during his pregnancy, but Tom didn't have time for it when the elections were coming. Lucius had reminded him that three months was a short time and it would go faster than he guessed. He levitated all the papers to the right drawers, shuffling some of them to his case before standing up. He stretched, his back popping when it straightened properly.

Come home, old man. I can massage your back, Harry promised, his words a nice surprise. Tom didn't miss the teasing tone of them, his mind already steering to the naked skin.

Chapter Text

05 | Tell You a Secret

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Tom stepped into the meeting room, his eyes focusing on Harry right away. He sat on Tom's throne sideways, his legs over the armrest, twirling his wand between his fingers. Tom let a smile creep onto his lips for a blink before forcing it down. Some of their Knights were already sitting around the table, but most were still coming.

Seriously, darling? Tom sighed through their bond, walking slowly by the table. Harry lifted his face and winked at him, the teasing bastard clearly in a playful mood. If his husband wanted to play, he would get it. Tom knew just a way to get him embarrassed — and aroused, both being a huge bonus when they were in front of people. The decorum they required from their Knights didn't touch them, Tom could very well bend Harry over the table and fuck him right there and then without care of other people if he wanted to. It wasn't something he was interested in, but he was happy to blow the decorum out of their face while they forced others to walk by the rules.

Tom stopped in front of his throne and looked down at Harry, their eyes meeting up. There was heat in Harry's gaze while Tom could feel also boredom from his side of the bond.

"If you want to sit in my chair, so be it but you can't complain how you get to be there," he hissed, his lips turning to a wicked grin now that he was his back to the table.

"You know I won't say anything," Harry responded, his expression smug. Tom quirked his eyebrows. "I — I just feel the need to be as close to you as possible, but I didn't want to cancel the meeting we truly need at the moment." His tone was more serious, and Tom nodded, understanding why Harry acted as he did.

"Well then. Up you get so I can get you on my lap," he murmured, his chest warming from the way Harry's face lightened up. He complied quickly, and Tom sat in his place, cushioning his seat more than usual so he would be able to keep Harry's weight on top of him for the next few hours. He had barely time to settle comfortably before Harry flopped down, hitting the air out of his lungs for once. "Carefully, my dearest," Tom chided him. Harry turned his face to him, and they looked at each other for a moment before Harry relaxed, nuzzling closer to Tom's chest.

Tom lifted his eyes to others, his gaze sweeping over everyone. Most of them turned away from them hastily, their cheeks tinted with colour. It was so ridiculous and Tom couldn't understand how they still felt embarrassed over the public display of endearments and tenderness. They had had years to get used to it. Though he had to admit that Harry didn't usually spend the meetings on his lap like this, so maybe it was a reason for that. Tom trailed his fingers in Harry's back up and down, thrilled over the shivers it gave Harry.

The last of the Knights trickled in one after another, their eyes sweeping over the room before stopping at their Lords. Tom hid his smile in Harry's hair, realising only now that he was missing his hood.

"Where's your hood?" he asked when he didn't see it on the back of Harry's robes. It wasn't that he had to wear it, but Tom felt more comfortable when his omega was hidden from view.

"Felt… restrictive," Harry murmured. He sounded almost like he was going to fall asleep, and Tom rolled his eyes.

"Try to stay awake for the meeting, darling," he said, cradling Harry closer to his chest.

"Too comfortable." Tom shook his head before turning his attention to the table. The ones arriving last were staring at them openly until Tom met their eyes. Only Draco didn't lower his gaze right away, his face saying clearly are you serious. Tom nodded, keeping the movement minimal before addressing the whole table.

"Welcome, our Knights! It has been again a week full of work and meetings and many of our plans are moving swiftly forward. Our win is not far unless we get some serious distractions. We will not allow those to happen without punishment. Remember this." He let his gaze sweep one more time around the table before choosing one to start. "Julian Avery, a report."

"Yes, my Lord. Our business has started really well. We have currently seven places that have ordered either weekly or monthly deliveries for the Elixir of Rapture. Our cursebreaker is doing excellent work with the grates. They have caught several that were cursed before their return. Without the saferoom and their work our warehouse would have been revealed. We've done some actions to move the saferoom to another location, so even if some of the spells haven't been blocked, the location wouldn't lead anyone to our warehouse, as it would be a huge hit to the business," Julian Avery told clearly. Tom nodded, satisfied that they had chosen him to lead that project. Julian Avery had clearly some talent and passion for a thriving business, making him perfect to start their new branch from zero.

"Valeria Avery, your report." Tom didn't wait for a miracle from her as usually she just said something along the lines of no news.

"No news," she said, again. Tom regarded her for a moment before continuing. He noted down that he should keep an eye on her. It was suspicious how she never had anything to tell.

"Barty, a report," Tom asked, knowing full well what the report would contain. He wanted the Order spy to deliver the news of Crouch Sr's imprisonment to them. It had taken longer — and more than one try — than he had anticipated, but finally the old man was in their dungeons, waiting for the first torture session.

"My Lords!" Barty squealed, and Tom pinched Harry's hand to get him to suffer through Barty's excitement that was so overflowing that it hurt. Harry grunted on his lap and shot him a dirty glare before schooling his expression and turning to look at Barty. "We got my father and he's in the dungeons. I can't wait to torture him."

"Everything in its own time. Thank you, Barty," Harry said, finally starting to attend the meeting. Draco's smirk, thankfully aimed at them and therefore only Theodore was able to see it, told how Harry's airy words hit the goal. Tom sighed and dropped a kiss to Harry's hair, not caring even the slightest how some of the Knights gaped at them, before turning his attention to the next one.

"Bellatrix, your report."

"My Lords. The mission was a success and we will have a delivery in a few days. I made sure the safe house is ready for their arrival and I will be receiving them," she responded, following Tom's instructions to tell only the bare minimum and keeping the names and details out.

What was the mission? Harry asked in his mind, his displeasure for secrets echoing clearly.

It is related to Regulus and his husband. That's the only reason I kept it a secret. Bellatrix was the only one able to do this mission as Regulus's cousin, Tom told him patiently, hoping that it was enough. They had fought more within the last two months than within the last two years together and it was starting to annoy him.

All right. I will talk with Regulus. I don't like this secret-keeping at all, Harry murmured, and Tom breathed in relief. He had dodged the bullet. He should have mentioned the mission to Harry, he realised it now, but it was too late to regret it.

"Thank you, Bellatrix," Tom responded finally, their silence stretched slightly too long, even though their Knights were used to their inner discussions when they might be somewhat absent. Tom skipped over Bellatrix's husband and his brother, their mission so important and secretive — and not even talking about the fact that it was still going on — that they couldn't utter even a word about it. "Severus, if you will."

"My Lords. I've followed your instructions and I'm down to two of the biggest orders you have made, the smaller ones ready and shipped to the instructed locations. I will catch up within a week with the rest of the orders, so my strain isn't that bad," Severus responded curtly, and Tom respected him for that. He was pleased that the financial matters between them had been finally settled, although Severus had required them to call him Severus in public instead of Lord Prince.

"Good. Lucius."

"Everything is going well in the Ministry. Now that Crouch Sr is out of the way, we can be sure Fudge is the next Minister for Magic and therefore you, my Lords, will be that too as he's your puppet."

"Perfect. Fenrir, could you give a report?" Fenrir Greyback was a rare addition to their table, opting to visit them from time to time in private meetings, but it was a nice surprise to have him here now. As difficult as he was to work with, Tom knew that they would have zero chances to have the werewolves on their side without him. Fenrir had accepted to call them his Lords in public settings as long as they acknowledged his title as an alpha of his pack, making him essentially the lord of the werewolves. Fenrir had accepted that, but every time he brought someone else with him, Tom had come to realise how none of the other werewolves were interested even the slightest in giving their respects to the two Dark Lords.

It was always fascinating how different Fenrir and Remus were from each other. One of them welcomed his wolf with love and warmth while the other was embarrassed about that side of him. One of them lived in the forest with a pack full of werewolves while the other lived in a house with an omega partner. One of them was rough and straight-up rude, while the other was kind and loving. They were so opposite from each other that it was difficult to grasp that they were both werewolves.

"Yes, my Lords. Nine of the ten biggest packs in England are under my power, making them your allies. They know about the alliance and have promised to come for aid if called. The rules are the same as with the original pack you allied with," Fenrir told them, his voice hoarse. Tom nodded, remembering only then that they hadn't cast their scent blockers, Harry's scent giving away that he was pregnant to any omega and alpha. And werewolf.

Tom cursed under his breath.

"Darling, the scent blockers," he hissed urgently, spelling it first on himself and then on Harry.

"Alpha, n-no," Harry stuttered suddenly, his body starting to tremble against Tom. His distress radiated from the bond, and Tom wanted to curse again.

"Love, we're not ready yet. Can you keep up for another… half an hour?" Tom asked, glancing around the table.

"Fine. I can." Tom relaxed, his mind going through every one of their options.

"We need to leave all the alphas and omegas to the room, just to make sure who they are. All of them probably know," Tom told Harry nervously, completely out of his field with that kind of thing. "I am sorry for the interruption," he continued smoothly while massaging Harry's back and trying to get him to calm down. "Draco, your turn."

"Everything is going as planned. We have added more power to the wards around all the safe houses and I've personally made two more safe houses and shared portkeys for them for predefined people," Draco responded quickly. Tom looked at him and noticed his lingering eyes on Harry, but at least he didn't draw any attention to that.

"Well done. Augustus, your report," Tom continued, giving the turn to one of the older members who worked in the Department of Mysteries.

"Yes, my Lord. Our research of Time has taken a step forward and as I'm the one leading it, I'm always informed of any progress. I wish to talk about that in a private meeting," Augustus Rookwood told him. Tom hid his smile behind Harry's head and nodded.

"Very well. We will invite you in during the next week," he accepted. The emotions coming from Harry got stronger, and Tom sighed. "I am sorry to cut the meeting short as there have been some… surprising events tonight. Everyone else is free to go but every alpha and omega. Draco, Theodore, stay in place too."

Tom looked around the table as their Knights glanced at each other in confusion before all the betas — thankfully most of them — stood up and moved to leave. Tom glanced around the table one more time before lifting a wall of privacy that separated the head of the table with Draco and Theodore from the rest of the table.

"We forgot the scent blockers before the meeting and every omega and alpha knows about Harry's pregnancy by now. Your work is to write down everyone here and follow how they react to what I am going to say. It is of utmost importance that the Order will not get the information about the pregnancy yet so I will meet everyone here, starting tonight and continuing tomorrow, to check their minds," he told the two of their most trusted members. He noticed Theodore's surprise over the news and glanced at Draco who shook his head. "I will talk about this more with you, Theodore, but not now. I will arrange a meeting on Tuesday."

"Yes, my Lord," Theodore said, bowing his head. Tom nodded, his satisfaction over their chosen second hands more than enough. He lowered the wall and glanced around the room. He noticed the curious looks in the private corner but ignored them for now in favour of addressing their Knights first.

"You might be confused as to why I left you here. How many of you noticed our missing scent blockers during the meeting?" he asked at first. The silence spread and people glanced at each other until the first one lifted his hand, followed by rest of the people at the table. He nodded and gathered his thoughts before ending the scent blockers. Harry perked up immediately, a smile slowly coming to his face.

"My alpha," he purred, his eyes locked on Tom.

"Darling, you need to focus for a moment longer. Because of the missing scent blockers, I dismissed all the betas and I have to talk with alphas and omegas," Tom reminded with a soft hiss and brushed Harry's cheek with his thumb.

"After that?"

"I have to go through every one of them before I can let them out of the Castle so I can make sure no one is a spy for Order. It'd be the worst thing ever if they got to know about your pregnancy now while the baby is the most vulnerable," Tom repeated his earlier words, not that it mattered. He didn't understand fully how territorial Harry was at the moment, but he knew enough. He couldn't fault him for not being able to listen to the discussion when one of his biggest senses was cut out almost completely.

"Fine. You owe me for this," Harry accepted, his tone telling clearly how he would be pouting if they weren't in front of the Knights.

"I understand." Tom lifted his eyes to the table, enjoying the increased unease. "So, as you can smell, your Dark Lord Slytherin, Lord-Consort Slytherin, is with child. Why did I leave only you and not the betas?" Tom let his eyes go around the table, noting down everyone who didn't show any positive emotions for the news. "No beta can smell omega's pregnancy. The news will have to stay strictly secret. You are not allowed to talk about it to anyone outside of this room. Better yet: you are not allowed to talk about with each other. The less people know, the better. We will tell the news in our own schedule and without this accident, you would have not known before the third trimester. Blaise, do you have something to say?"

"My Lords, may I congratulate you?" Blaise asked. Tom huffed quietly. Play nice, Harry warned him, and Tom tried to calm down and relax against the back of his throne.

"Yes, you may but only in private," he responded, hoping to make it clear that only meetings with their Lords were the places to do so. Few of the Knights nodded, Blaise included and Tom gave one of his cold smiles. "Good. Now that that is settled, I have some… bad news. As you know, we have Order spies, at least one, in our midst. Because of that and the fact that this information is strictly confidential and can not fall into their hands, you are not allowed to leave the grounds before I have personally checked you. You cannot contact anyone except one message to a family member you live with. I take your Lord to rest and start then."

Tom brushed a few strands out of Harry's face, their eyes meeting each other.

"M-my Lords?" one of them, Corban Yaxley, interrupted him. Tom fastened his eyes on him, nodding tightly and giving him permission to talk. "I was wondering about our possible partners. What about them?"

Tom glanced at the secluded corner, remembering that Corban was an alpha with a younger omega partner, their relationship one of the textbook examples of abusive relationships between alpha and omega. Harry had ranted about it a few times, hating that one of his fellow omegas sat in the same room, clearly abused, while Harry sat on the throne and had power over everyone else but Tom — and most of the time even over him if Tom was truthful.

"They are free to leave as long as you talk with them only with one of us, Draco or Theodore next to you. They can also stay and in case you communicate with them more than I have told you, I will search for them too. We have more than enough guest rooms to have your own rooms for every one of you," Tom told him, hoping to give one free night to Corban's partner.

"Thank you, my Lord," Corban said, bowing down. "My omega will stay here with me. She will not need to be investigated as I have all the control of her."

Tom wanted to curse Corban right there and there, his words so degrading that he couldn't stomach it. He knew that Corban's partner, sweet Grim Fawley, was a male. He bit his tongue to keep quiet while he tried to breathe through his fury, which was only fuelled by Harry's bloodlust. He wanted to throw the man to their dungeons. Unfortunately, he had still too much power in the Ministry and therefore would be noticed if he disappeared. Maybe we could save Grim Fawley? Harry suggested, but Tom shook his head mentally. He couldn't turn Corban against them just yet.

"The rules are the same for everyone. It is not a matter of what kind of relationship you have or if your partner is an omega," Tom said, filling his voice with a powerful command everyone had to listen and obey. Corban flushed but he nodded anyway.

"Yes, my Lord. I understand," he murmured. Would you talk with Mr Fawley, dearest? Tom asked Harry. The strong approval was everything he got before Harry jumped to his feet, leaving Tom to stare after him in confusion.

"Come on, love, you told them you'd take me to rest before starting with them, right? Make sure to leave Corban for last. I'm sure I can lure Mr Fawley for a talk at some point," Harry hissed, a wicked grin aimed at him while no one else could see it.

"What are you playing at?" Tom asked, barely refraining from rolling his eyes.

"If you take me to sleep, it can very well take an hour or two." Harry's scent, powered by his distress, spread to the room, making a few of the alphas fidget uncomfortably. Tom shot them a glare before getting up from his chair and going to Harry.

"Oh, my omega, it is fine, I will take care of you," he murmured, for the sake of the act. He hadn't had any idea that Harry could add something to his scent with a pure will as he didn't seem to be so distressed if Tom believed their bonds. At least, it made sure that Tom was justified to spend longer with Harry before his return. "Draco, Theodore, keep an eye on everyone and send a Patronus if you need me before I return," he commanded before scooping Harry into his arms and carrying him out of the room.

Harry stalked through the corridors in the East Guest Wing where Corban Yaxley and Grim Fawley had slept. He had tried to keep them apart, to have his own room for Grim who was four years younger than Harry while Corban was a few decades older, but he hadn't succeeded. He felt pity for Grim who he remembered distantly from Hogwarts. He had been a bright and talkative boy as a first-year but now, as an adult, he was shy and wary of everything.

Harry smelled the pillowcase one of the house elves had brought to him. He had made sure that Corban was downstairs and Tom had promised to warn him if he moved, so he was following the trail of Grim's scent that was usually hidden under the blocker. He frowned, analysing the scent. It wasn't a scent of content omega. It was full of distress and anxiety, even fear. No one should need to fear so much that it radiated even from the pillow.

Stepping around the corner, Harry saw a hunched figure in one of the alcoves, leaning to the window. He coughed, warning them about his presence. They turned and Harry realised he had found Grim. He had dark circles around his eyes and a collar made of bruises around his throat. He could see exactly where Corban had pressed with his thumb, feeling the pain in his own throat like he was the victim.

"Mr Fawley, it is nice to see you," he greeted, making sure that his voice stayed soft and friendly. Grim's eyes widened before he hurried to bow.

"M-my Lord," he murmured, his voice hoarse. Harry wanted to heal him but he could just guess what Corban would do if he didn't see the bruises around Grim's throat after his meeting.

"Please, join me for a walk," Harry invited, knowing full well that Corban wouldn't be able to say anything when Grim followed, even if he broke some of the rules the alpha might've given him before his leave. He stepped slowly past Grim, his fingers crossed on his stomach. He wanted to look safe. He felt Grim's eyes on himself and how he hesitated before stepping behind him. "Oh no, dear, come by my side. I have no hopes to discuss with me if you walk a few steps behind," he said, stopping to look over his shoulder. Grim flushed and lowered his eyes to the floor but obeyed his command.

The silence stretched while Harry waited for his companion to open his mouth. He could just imagine how many questions Grim probably had about the sudden encounter. He fidgeted already with the hems of his sleeves. Harry glanced at his side and let himself check Grim's clothing. They were fine but feminine, and Grim didn't look comfortable in them.

"You are allowed to ask questions from me," Harry said, breaking the silence. His heels snapped against the hard wood but there were no other noises.

"My Lord, why — why are you here?" Grim whispered. Harry's heart ached for the fear in his voice and he wanted to erase it before it could really affect the way Grim talked to him.

"You have not done anything wrong, do not worry," Harry said calmly, stopping their walk to one of the more secluded window stills. He turned to look at Grim who looked so much younger than he was. He felt gross when he thought what it told about Corban. "I wanted to talk with you, personally, alone. Mr Fawley, how are you feeling?"

"Not Mr Fawley, Mrs Yaxley," Grim muttered, flushing dark red when Harry cleared his throat.

"Are you married?" Harry asked. He hadn't known Grim's last name had changed.

"Err, no, not that I know." Grim grimaced, his eyes still firmly on the floor.

"Well then, first of all, you are male, despite your secondary gender being an omega. And secondly, you can take your partner's last name only when you get married. As you are not married, you are officially Fawley. It does not matter what your alpha says. He cannot change the law with the snap of his fingers," Harry stated. Grim finally looked up with wide eyes, his bottom lip trembling. "I am on your side," Harry added quietly, painfully aware how he might've been the first person to care about the boy in front of him — as he was still a boy, despite being closer to thirty than twenty.

"I'm fine," Grim said, but his voice betrayed him. Harry cast scent blockers on both of them before stepping forward and spreading his arms open. Grim glanced at both of his hands before looking around. His shoulders shook. Harry crooned to comfort the boy, thankful that he had learnt something from Tom's way of making noises and could copy some of them plausibly.

Grim sagged and gave up, stepping into Harry's hug. Harry didn't wrap his hands as tightly as he wanted to, guessing that it was a new situation for Grim. He rubbed Grim's back when he started sobbing, his tears quickly wetting the front of Harry's robes. Harry knew that he couldn't step in front of Corban without changing his clothes but it was totally worth it.

"There you go. Being an omega does not mean that you are lower than anyone else. It does not make you a bloody breeding mare who is worth only his womb. Being an omega does not permit an alpha to abuse their — or anyone else's — omega. We will make it illegal, I will vow that to you," he said carefully. He knew that it would take more than a few words for Grim to start believing what he said after years of abuse, but it would have to be enough for now. "I — we will protect you and all the other omegas who are in the same situation as you. We might seem ignorant, we might seem like we do not care. We might not be able to do anything right at this moment, but we will do everything we can whenever we have that power."

"W-was it you who tried to give us separated rooms?" Grim sobbed. Harry sighed, pushing Grim's face tighter against his chest to give some warmth, some comfort he truly lacked.

"Yes. We did our best so you could have been safe last night. I understand that your alpha has right now too much power over you but he will get sanctions for his actions. Do not worry, he will not be able to link it to you, he will not torture you for snitching him." Grim nodded, his sobs calming down slowly.

"Thank you, my Lord," he whispered before stepping back. Harry let him go, his heart breaking over his sad expression.

"You have not vowed your loyalty to us. Therefore I am not your Lord. Not in the private setting." Harry smiled at Grim. He waved his hand, cleaning Grim's face and the front of his shirt before turning around and beckoning Grim to follow. "As my husband stated last night, since you two slept in the same rooms, he has to check on you too. Do not be scared, he knows of your situation and will be careful and delicate. He might pry some information you are not comfortable to tell but we will handle it with utmost care, making sure that it will not spread. I will take you now back to your rooms where you can freshen before Lord Slytherin sends someone to fetch you. Mr Yaxley will not be coming back to your rooms this morning, he will wait for you downstairs, so do not worry."

Grim nodded but kept his silence to Harry's frustration. He wanted to know more about the younger omega who was in the place he couldn't help him just yet.

"Excuse me if I am too bold, but do you have children?" Harry asked when the silence started to stretch. He felt Grim's hesitation which was… confusing.

"Will you tell my alpha about our talk?" Grim asked. Harry stopped and turned to look at him, seeing the quiet rebellion behind his eyes. Harry shook his head. "I gave birth to a daughter last autumn. My alpha was not happy at all, he had wished for a boy. I loved her so much. Alpha threatened to take her away, to kill her so it could trigger my next heat earlier. I — I couldn't let him do that. I sent her to my brother and haven't seen her since. My alpha was not happy, not at all." Grim's words were emotionless, like he was reciting a text from the book he had read a while ago. Trauma. Harry swallowed, his mind seeking some comfort from Tom through their bond. He could feel Tom's fury from the news and hear his silent promise to make Corban hurt. Harry shuddered, thinking of every way to torture that man.

"Merlin," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "Lord Slytherin and I will keep our mouths closed, do not worry. We will make sure that you can see your daughter before this year is over." It would be an easy promise to keep. Harry was sure that Tom would imprison Corban within a few weeks, as soon as he could just make the plans to keep his disappearance out of the public eye.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much your words mean," Grim whispered before turning and walking away. Harry wanted to follow him, to escort him back to his room but he was rooted in the place. He wanted to get his hands on the man that was even worse than he had been able to imagine.

I feel you, my love, Tom murmured, his mind brushing softly against Harry, warming his insides. We will make him pay. When you get tired of your new plaything in the dungeons, I will get him to you. Harry almost laughed, feeling giddy about that. He almost, almost, wanted to say he was tired of Crouch Sr, but it wasn't true. The old man was still full of belief that someone would save him and Harry wanted him begging for death before killing him.

We will, he promised Tom, a cruel smirk spreading on his lips.

Severus bottled the potion to the flasks he had waiting on the table. Lily would be coming in a few minutes, and he didn't want to have any work to interrupt them while he recounted everything that had happened last night. He had — too often — a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that the man he saw every week in an unsettling situation was the same boy he had seen quite often when growing up. Harry was so different in the meetings that it was almost scary. He didn't have even an ounce left from the boy he had been before starting in Hogwarts.

Before getting to know Tom Riddle, Lord Slytherin, Dark Lord Voldemort.

Severus hated that his vowes kept him from talking about their Dark Lord identities. He had heard from Lily that Dumbledore was almost sure they hadn't achieved that just yet, and Severus wanted nothing as much as to tell Lily that they had, indeed, gotten there. And it wasn't even a fresh change. They had been Dark Lords for years, achieving it quite soon after their wedding in 1983, ten years younger than Grindelwald had.

The fireplace chimed, alarming Severus from the incoming visitor and he cast a stasis charm over everything before spelling his hands clean and climbing out of his potion cellar. He was just in time to see Lily stumbling out of the fireplace, and a fond smile tugged his lips. She had never been good at landing from flooing, her son following his lead and only after a lot of training learning it. Severus had been one of his test subjects while giving also some tips and tricks. It was years ago, but it felt more like a forever.

"Sev, it's lovely to see you," Lily greeted him with a wide smile, spreading her arms open. Severus accepted the hug, his want to stay there almost overcoming his senses. Lily had chosen James over three decades ago, and Severus had learnt to accept it, but at times it was still difficult.

"You too," he said, walking to the kitchen to put water boil. He wanted some tea before telling Lily how he had seen her son almost having sex in front of a big group of people. He hated to tell about the meeting anyway, the information he could give often breaking Lily's heart. He had comforted her too often over the things Harry and Lord Slytherin did. If he was truthful, he couldn't understand why Lily wanted to torture herself with the knowledge.

"I can hopefully protect them better if I know these things beforehand," Lily had once said when Severus asked about it. He just had to swallow his own grief and shame and get the words out.

"How's your work going?" she asked, and Severus glanced at her over his shoulder, thankful that he didn't have to jump to the meeting at first.

"Busy, as always. The summer is almost around the corner, so I have to get ready for that. And… well, you know how they want me to stock their potion storage, so it really fills all of my free time." Severus got the cups for them and filled them with hot water. He levitated the cups on the table with an assortment of teas.

"Can I help you with something? You know, it's been boring lately, with James going around only Merlin knows where," Lily told him. Severus sat down in the chair opposite her, his eyes glued on Lily. He wasn't sure what to say, but it seemed that Lily was having some problems with her relationship. It wasn't really his place to comment, but…

"How is it going between you two?" he asked quietly, wrapping his hands around his cup. Lily was silent so long that he was sure she wouldn't reply. He was ready the open his mouth and say something else when Lily lifted her face, a rare vulnerability showing from her face.

"I — I can't say it's good. He's been going on and off about Harry and Tom. When Dumbledore wanted to do something when Harry was sick, James would've been on board without a thought. I'm… scared of what he might do one day." The admission cost clearly a lot, and Severus tried to find anything else to talk about.

"Harry has been better now," he said, hoping it to brighten her. To his surprise, Lily's expression turned instantly bright. "You know something," Severus said aloud. He tried to stifle his curiosity that wanted to break his self-restraint.

"I — well, I think they haven't told the news yet to your group. If I tell you this, you must promise that you won't tell about it to anyone," Lily reminded, and Severus nodded quickly. He kept always Lily's secrets with him, not betraying them to anyone. She could trust him. Lily took a deep breath. "I will become a grandmother in October."

Severus's mind was cut short, his shock covering everything. He tried to repeat her words in his mind, trying to piece the puzzle together.

It made sense with how Harry had been behaving. And the new potions Lord Slytherin had asked from him… Severus wanted to smack himself for not realising earlier. He should've known since the potions were meant for pregnant people.

"Do you mean that Harry is pregnant?" he asked, wanting to make sure that he had made the right interpretation. Lily nodded without a word, her smile full of happiness. Severus's heart beat fast on his chest. For once it was difficult to ignore the love he felt for the woman in front of him.

"Bloody hell," he cursed aloud. He couldn't really believe that Harry, his pseudo-godson, was pregnant. He was with a child while he was leading the war that would start any moment now. "Who knows?"

"I don't think anyone but me, James and his maternity healer. Do you know who he is?" Lily responded, and Severus wanted to curse again. He hoped that Potter wouldn't do anything rash and would take the news with the same happiness as Lily. He realised Lily had asked something and he cleared his throat before taking a sip from his mug.

"No, I don't know," he said slowly, wishing that he knew. He wanted to make sure that the healer knew what they were doing because he didn't want anything to happen to Harry. "I will try to figure it out," he murmured, mostly for himself.

"Thank you. That's all I ask." Lily smiled at him before lifting her mug to her lips. "I… I talked with Harry a few weeks ago about James. I've started to think something, but — ah, it doesn't matter. Forget that I said anything." Severus quirked his eyebrows, curious what Lily had wanted to say. He smothered the silly hope that had once again reared on his chest, making his heart beat faster.

"Tell me," he asked, moving his hand to the other side of the table for Lily to grasp. She glanced between it and Severus's eyes before taking it, her slender fingers brushing against his palm. Lily shifted under his gaze nervously. The silence stretched before Lily sighed, clearly making her decision finally.

"I've been thinking of divorce," she whispered. Severus opened his mouth but couldn't say anything, his mind halting to a stop for the news. He had wondered often about their relationship. They were so different, Potter's attitude towards Harry so negative that it was a surprise how Lily had stood for it that long. "I have realised that I made a mistake. Years ago. When I chose him."

The confession was quiet, but something that whipped Severus's world completely around. He didn't know what he wanted to do. Should he congratulate her? Tell her his condolences? Admit his feelings? Nothing felt right, fitting for the moment. Lily lifted her face, her brilliant eyes shining from unleashed tears. Severus swallowed tightly.

"I — do you — what —," he stuttered, snapping his mouth closed when he couldn't form a full sentence, embarrassment warming his face. Lily smiled. It wasn't quite as sad as Severus had expected, but it wasn't happy either. It was something between unbearable pain and excessive happiness.

"You don't have to say anything, Sev. I've always been aware of your feelings but… I was between two equally good choices. I mean, they felt equally good back then. I can't but wonder how I missed all the warning signs. Why did I let so much slide through my fingers without grabbing it?"

Severus gaped. He could do nothing else at that moment. Lily — Lily had known? He wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. The silence stretched but Severus felt the tension between them.

"You changed after the incident. You started to ignore his bad side, bullying, everything which had made you resent him previously." Severus heard his heartbeat in his ears, steady but fast thrumming. He hoped his words weren't accusatory. They had never truly talked about that day, the day he had ruined almost everything. Lily lowered her eyes to their hands.

"I guess we have to talk about it sooner rather than later. It's been… 35 years already. And I — we — there will be no more if we don't talk," she said, staring at their joined hands before lifting her gaze to Severus. He flinched and almost winced aloud from the pain he saw in her eyes. "You hurt me. Betrayed me."

Severus closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. He felt Lily's pain as his own. He had known he made a mistake when that cursed word had left his mouth but when Potter, Black and Pettigrew, with Lupin in the background, had been laughing and taunting, he hadn't been able to say anything else before Lily had left.

Obviously, they had reconciled after graduation and Severus had attended their wedding and been an honorary godfather to Harry. Severus had apologised. But they hadn't talked about their feelings.

"I was disappointed for myself," he whispered an admission. "I was ready to give up, to let them torture me as much as they liked when I saw your expression." He could still bring the memory to the front of his mind, from the place where he had buried it as deep as he could. "When Black tricked me to the Shrieking Shack and I realised it was a trap, I was ready to die." And he hated the fact that Potter of all had saved him. He kept his eyes closed but he felt Lily looking at him. He couldn't open them, to meet Lily's eyes that stared at him every time when he saw Harry. Not now that he had revealed his deepest secret to his oldest friend.

 "I'm glad you didn't die. I would've gone to Azkaban for four murders if you did," Lily said suddenly, her voice fierce and strong. It alone got Severus snapping his eyes open and he saw her scowl. "I hated you so much after the incident, but I loved you as well." She bit her bottom lip, pulling it to her mouth, and Severus had to rip his gaze off from that. He hated how much Lily made him feel, how, even after decades, he still couldn't stop feeling. "And I still love you."

Severus froze, his cup halfway to his mouth and he just stared. Yes, Lily had told him countless times how she loved him. He had always known it was platonic love, something she felt for her best friends, but she said it so differently this time. He wanted to say something, do something, but before he got his hand down and the cup onto the table, Lily had left with a whispered apology.

And Severus knew without doubt that Lily loved him more than she should love her best friend. He just hoped it wouldn't break their precious friendship. He knew himself. He knew that even though he thought he wouldn't be a secret lover, he was ready to do anything, be anything to have Lily, even for a short while. It just had to come from her.

Chapter Text

06 | You've Always Been Mine

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Harry trailed between two rooms. He had decided one of them would be the nursery, but both were so perfect he had no idea how to decide between them. One had a view to the courtyard and over the roof of the opposite side of the castle, while another had a view to the lake and far over it to the forest that was currently under thick snow.

"What are you thinking of?" Tom hissed close to his ear, jolting him out of his thoughts. Harry turned around and smiled at Tom before turning back to the doorway.

"I'm trying to decide which one will be the nursery for our princess. This one or the one down the corridor, next to the small office." He shivered when Tom's breath brushed against his neck, bringing a blush to his skin.

"This one is closer to our bedroom, so of course it will be this one," Tom murmured, his lips touching Harry's mating gland. Harry tilted his head to the side, giving free access while he tried to think about Tom's reasoning.

"Fuck, I can't concentrate," Harry giggled, forcing himself to step forward out of Tom's reach. He twirled around and saw a flush on Tom's face. "How are you feeling?" he asked, frowning. He knew that the symptoms were familiar, but… and it hit him. It was at the start of April, and Tom hadn't had his spring rut yet. "Your rut is coming." It was a statement, but Tom nodded anyway.

"Yes. I don't know how it's supposed to work while you're pregnant and can't go to heat. How — how am I getting through it?" There was something different in Tom's voice, in his expression, in his emotions. Harry frowned more, delving into their bond and examining it closer.

"What is it, darling?" he asked when he realised Tom felt insecure. They stared at each other for a moment, and Harry let Tom think over what to say. He didn't want to force him to do anything, not now and not ever, and with the feelings… well, neither of them was good with them. Tom cleared his throat, and Harry focused back on him, making sure that he would be listening closely to what Tom had to say.

"What if I… force you to do something? What if I make you take my knot while in a rut? What if —"

"Tom, stop," Harry commanded firmly, cutting Tom out of his rambling. He relaxed, stepping to Tom and wrapping his hands around his middle. Tom returned the gesture, and Harry purred quietly. "I don't think your rut is the same as usual while I'm pregnant. It wouldn't make any sense. Have you read or asked someone about it? Regulus?"

"No, I don't want to ask him," Tom groaned, pressing his cheek against Harry's hair. Tom smelled better than usual — like it was needed — with his rut so close, and Harry couldn't do other than sniff his scent through his shirt.

"You've had usually pretty good restrain, so I trust you'll keep it this time too. We don't know, it might be something entirely else," Harry hummed and rubbed the scent glands in his chin to the fabric.

"Not always. Remember my ruts before we mated?" Tom asked him, and Harry wanted to laugh but stopped himself in time. It wouldn't do good, not right now, as Tom's alpha was probably on edge, especially regarding his omega.

"It was before we became mates. After that, everything has been good and well. Love, I truly believe that your rut will be different because I'm pregnant. You have your instincts, but they shouldn't be telling you to breed me because I'm already filled. I would guess that you want to spoil me during that time," Harry objected, feeling right about his words. What if it was his role as Tom's omega while he was indeed pregnant: to offer peace and calm? "However, we are supposed to think about the nursery! We've chosen the room now, but what about all the furniture and colours?"

"Something green," came from Tom without need to think, and Harry chuckled. He had somehow guessed that much. "How are you going to get the furnitures?" Harry looked up, making his eyes wide and glistening. He knew the effects on Tom, a smug smile appearing on his lips when Tom groaned. "Fine. We'll go shopping then. When do you want to do that?" Harry made sure to push his lips slightly outwards and flutter his lashes while tilting his head to the side. He wanted to get the nursery started sooner rather than later, and since Tom's rut would begin within a few days, it would be a perfect time to do the shopping now. "I —," Tom hesitated and bit his lip.

"Please, my darling," Harry pleaded in parseltongue, tilting his head to the other side to put his mating gland on full display. Tom's eyes snapped on it, his pupils dilating slightly. "I will reward you after that," he added, sending a teasing ghost sensation of arousal through their bond. He followed Tom's reaction in delight, how he shivered and gasped, his eyes glued to the side of Harry's neck. He had fun teasing Tom.

"All right! I'll take you shopping today," Tom gave up, and Harry grinned, ready to jump from excitement. "As long as you keep it calm," Tom continued, and Harry had to really work to keep himself in place. "And I will choose where we will go."

That was easy to accept as neither of them wanted to go to any of the British wizarding alleys where anyone could recognise them.

"What do you have in mind then?" Harry asked, lifting his hands to Tom's neck. Tom quirked his eyebrows, seeming to think it, but Harry was sure he knew already their destination.

"What do you say about Norway? I've heard Oslo has a nice area protected from the muggles, but Bergen has even bigger one. It's up to you which one; I can get a portkey for both of them in two hours," Tom suggested, and Harry's eyes widened from surprise. He had thought Tom would take him to a country like France or Germany, so big that it was easy to get lost there, to hide there, but what he remembered from Norway, it wasn't that big.

"Thank you, my love, my alpha," Harry purred and pulled Tom down for an all-consuming kiss, his body shivering from satisfaction. He nipped Tom's bottom lip, sucking it to his mouth before pulling back, leaving Tom stare at him with his pupils blown wide. Harry grinned, feeding some of his emotions to his husband, whose eyes just widened, his gaze moving to Harry's lips.

"Fucking tease, my dear omega. Who gave you permission for that?" he hissed, but instead of being full of fire, his voice was affectionate.

"Learnt from the best," Harry quipped and winked before he slipped under Tom's arm, stopping at the front of the kitchen doorway. "You have something to do, don't you? Go get that portkey to Bergen, and I'll make some lunch so we don't get hungry before even getting to the first store," he added and laughed, when Tom just growled before stomping towards his office.

Harry leaned against the doorway, a smug grin playing on his lips as he listened to Tom's retreating footsteps. Mission accomplished. Now all he had to do was make lunch and pretend he hadn't just manipulated the Dark Lord and his alpha himself into a shopping trip. Chuckling, he made his way into the kitchen, already planning his next move. If all went well, maybe they wouldn't just be picking out furnitures for their baby girl. Maybe, just maybe, he could get Tom to agree to spend a night in Norway, too, somewhere north where they would hopefully be able to see the northern lights.

Harry woke up feeling hot all over. Tom was wrapped around him worse than usual, and a prominent bulge on his front — and a quick reminder of the date — told Harry that Tom's rut had started. Only after the realisation did he notice Tom's scent that confirmed his guess. He checked their bonds and noticed them blocked, probably by Tom's instincts to keep his omega safe, but Harry hated it. He would have given almost anything to feel Tom's rut and all of his emotions.

Even without the extra knowledge from bonds, the difference from all the previous ruts was clear. While Tom usually woke up immediately when his rut hit and was teasing Harry before he got himself together, now he was still sleeping, warm air hitting Harry's neck every time Tom exhaled. Harry smiled to himself, remembering Tom's stress about his rut. There hadn't been need for that as Tom didn't seem to be overwhelmed by his instincts this time.

Harry moved slowly and carefully, making sure that he didn't jolt Tom awake when he turned around in Tom's embrace. His eyes moved under his eyelids, tipping Harry that Tom was close to waking up. He wanted to surprise his husband somehow, and he knew the perfect way to do it. He grinned, feeling his blood flow down.

Harry pushed himself under the blanket until he was face to face with Tom's crotch. He vanished Tom's pants and conjured a small light because working blindly just sucked. He wanted to see what he was doing, especially if he had any hopes to keep Tom asleep until he had something nice, warm and hard on his mouth. Tom's cock was angry red and leaking precum, his knot at the base already slightly swollen. Harry laid to his side and carefully inched closer, his mouth watering. He had to stretch his still sleep-rigid jaw to get the tip to his mouth, but he got it and had to swallow a moan down. He lapped the slit, tasting the precum, and he purred. He was sure he could spend hours keeping Tom's cock warm. The omega in him enjoyed the mark of submission and ownership, but warming wasn't what Harry was after at the moment. He worked the cock slowly deeper, knowing his limits perfectly well. The cock grew in his mouth, and when new spurt of precum hit Harry's tongue, he moaned, his eyes slipping close.

The body next to him tensed, and before Harry could do anything, the blanket was thrown away, and his head was ripped away. He keened, his eyes snapping open and a scowl forming on his face.

"Omega," Tom hissed warningly, and Harry leaned his head back as much as he could while Tom was gripping his hair, showing him submission clearly. He didn't have heat, and his Alpha would want to protect his pregnant mate during the rut too, even more fiercely than normally, but there were still some ground rules he couldn't cross without a punishment.

Harry knew he had to get Tom to knot before he would be more lucid, but the question was how. He had asked about it from Regulus behind Tom's back, and he knew knotting was perfectly safe for him and the baby, even good, since his Alpha's cum would strengthen his womb, but Tom could very well hit his cervix and it didn't sound safe.

Tom pulled him to his face, nuzzling and scenting his neck before biting down at his mating gland. Harry cried out, the pain blossoming from his neck. Tom rumbled, lapping the gland until it was numb, and Harry relaxed fully, his head tipping back. The pain had turned to pleasure, and he could feel the slick leaking out of him.

"Mine," Tom murmured against his skin, his sharp canines gracing it, and Harry shuddered, purring his content out loud. He was just happy they could spend the next two or three days in the bed, having all kinds of sex, while Harry would make sure Tom also rested and ate something. Regulus had produced him a few potions to help him keep up with Tom, so in the worst-case scenario, he wouldn't need to sleep more than Tom.

Tom growled, and Harry found himself naked. His stomach had grown somewhat, but he knew he wouldn't look properly pregnant until about two months later. So far, it was easy to hide, but in a few months, he would be confined to the Castle. Tom caressed his belly, his nails scratching it lightly.

"Good omega," he hissed, his voice full of pride that Harry was afraid he would cry soon.

"Alpha," he whined, arching closer to his Alpha, wanting more contact. His skin was more sensitive than usual, but it was one of the side effects of pregnancy.

"Love, stay in place," Tom told him, his voice clearer — and English something Harry wasn't used to hearing from Tom during his ruts. Harry froze, his one hand growing numb under him, the other hovering over Tom's hand. He looked at Tom, examining his pinched face. "I — I feel good. It's definitely a rut, but it's different. I don't have that… need."

"Alpha, you've already bred me, so of course you don't have it," Harry said, making sure his amusement was hidden behind his Occlumency walls tightly.

"I still need to knot," Tom groaned, and his hips twitched forward. Harry moved closer to him, nuzzling his chest and inhaling Tom's scent to his lungs.

"Regulus said it's fine and safe. You can knot me," he confessed, afraid that it was a wrong thing to say. Tom's hand came to his arse cheek, massaging and rubbing it. The heat pooled to Harry's stomach and groin, making his small cock finally harden — another side effects of his pregnancy, one of the most annoying ones.

"You're a sneaky omega," Tom praised, and Harry laughed, feeling confident it was the right thing to do. Tom was never violent towards him, no, but his possessivity was the worst during the rut and he had fucked Harry sore so many times during his ruts that Harry didn't want to take any risks.

"Only for you, my alpha," he purred, leaning his head back to look at Tom's face. His eyes glowed with the power, and Harry whined, the need between his legs growing with the wetness. He had chosen his alpha so well.

"Omega, don't try me," Tom grunted, his hold from Harry's arse tightening almost painfully. "I might be somewhat myself, but I don't trust it to keep if you try to tempt me."

"Alpha," Harry whimpered, his hips thrusting forward uselessly. Tom was strong enough to stop him from rutting, but Harry wanted desperately more. He wanted to feel his alpha's cock piercing him, dividing his insides to two and reorganising his organs — as long as he didn't hurt the baby, that was.

"Your arse would be safer and it's been some time since I last used it," Tom hissed before pressing his lips to Harry's forehead. His finger traced Harry's cleft until he found Harry's rim, the finger circling it teasingly. It was maddening. Harry knew anal sex during the rut wasn't really the most comfortable, because the knot would stretch him so much but it wouldn't be their first time trying it.

Harry shuddered when he felt lube filling his anal and fingertip pushing in. He bit his tongue, trying to keep all the noises in, but Tom's other hand found his face, and he pushed his index finger between Harry's lips.

"If you want to keep quiet, you're only allowed to use my fingers to help you," Tom ordered, his voice full of his alpha tone, and Harry —

He came. Hard. His translucent cum — slick — spurted to Tom's stomach while he felt his muscles constracting around Tom's fingertip. His mind blacked out for a few seconds, and when he came back to himself, he tasted blood, and only then did he realise he had bitten Tom's finger, breaking the skin. He was torn between sucking more blood to his mouth and pushing his magic to the wound, closing it, but Tom's encouraging hum kept him licking it.

"Good boy, good omega," his alpha said after a moment, his tone softer. His middle finger traced Harry's lips, and Harry obeyed and opened his mouth, inviting the second finger in without complaint. "Merlin, you should know what you do to me," Tom growled, when Harry started to suck with his earnest, popping his head up and down to mimic blowjob. "I wish I could one day knot your mouth, keep it stretched and sealed, coming deep to your throat."

Harry moaned around the fingers, his hole leaking more slick to his thigh. It was one of the things they had agreed they wouldn't want to do — ever — even if they talked about it during sex, during dirty talk. It didn't mean it wasn't an arousing thought. Tom pulled his fingertip from Harry's arse, and a gentle wave of magic confirmed Harry he was going to move to lower and finally give his slick-leaking hole something it had craved since before Tom was even awake, because one thing Harry didn't allow was moving between his holes without cleaning between them.

True to his guess, Tom caressed between his legs, smearing slick everywhere and especially to his hand before he wrapped his fingers around Harry's half-hard cock, tugging it gently. Harry moaned around the fingers, Tom's nails scraping his tongue lightly, but he wanted to get something in him, soon.

"Alpha," he begged, his voice muffled around the fingers, his hips rocking forward against the hand around him, but it wasn't satisfying. "More, please." He braved to move his hand from under him and gripped Tom's wrist with his numb fingers, his other hand going to Tom's cock. He hoped he wasn't stepping over any lines, that Tom was lucid enough to take any initiatives from him without an overly possessive reaction.

"Omega!" his alpha hissed, and he would've been spitting venom, had he had venom sacks on his mouth. Harry dropped his whole body loose and pliant, his hands dropping to the mattress and head leaning back enough to show his bare throat to his alpha. The hand around his cock left, wrapping tightly around Harry's wrist just seconds later. It was still within their boundaries, so Harry wasn't too worried. Sure, he would be sprouting bruises around his wrist afterward, but it wasn't bad.

His alpha pulled his fingers away, and Harry whined, his mouth feeling too empty after he had kept something there for some time. His alpha gripped it and squeezed, forcing Harry's mouth open, and his only option was to gasp for air, his whole body buzzing with arousal and Tom's heady scent that had rocketed up fast after Harry had moved his hands.

"Can you stay in place? No moving at all without my permission? Can you do that?" his alpha snarled, leaving Harry's chin finally alone and gripping his hair instead, pulling Harry upwards roughly. The sharp pain blossomed from Harry's scalp, and he melted to the mattress. His cock had hardened fully, and his insides were aching for something to fill him.

"I can try," he whined, when he felt his alpha nuzzling his throat before he bit his mating gland again, breaking just healed skin again. The pain and pleasure mixed in him, making him arch against his alpha just to be pulled harshly away with magic. Before he could blink, he was lying on his back in the middle of the bed, his hands and feet tied to the bedposts with silky ribbons.  He withered, trying the knots, but they didn't give up, the magic in them clearly more powerful than what Harry was capable of doing at the moment.

"There you go, my omega," Tom crooned, sitting on his knees between Harry's legs. He petted Harry's thigh, and his eyes were burning on Harry's body. Harry mewled, hoping to make his displeasure clear, but his alpha didn't budge. "Looking so good, sinfully editable, right there, spread out for me and my pleasure. I could just leavy you there or fuck you as much as I want." Harry moaned, his eyes closing when they started to burn. He was overwhelmed, the latest orgasm already forgotten.

"Please, alpha, I'm yours, please, take me," he pleaded, the tears spilling to his cheeks. He jolted when Tom brushed them away, drying his cheeks. The mattress moved under him, and he opened his eyes and saw his alpha hovering over him, their lips having only a breath of space between them.

"Begging so prettily. Aren't you a perfect omega for your alpha?" Tom crooned softly, and when Harry opened his mouth to answer, closed the distance and claimed Harry's lips. His alpha finally touched Harry like he had wanted, pressing his finger to his slick hole and stabbing deep without giving time to get used to it — not that Harry really needed it. Harry's blood rushed in his veins, his heart pounding in his ears.

Harry was ready to beg more when his alpha pushed his second finger in, making him moan and gasp instead. He was already getting close to his second orgasm, his walls fluttering around Tom's fingers that were pumping in and out, sometimes staying in for longer to just curl and press against his prostate.

"Alpha," he cried out, his plan to warn out, but he was thrown over the edge so fast and suddenly that he didn't have time for that. His whole body convulsed, his stomach brushing against Tom when his back arched from the bed.

"Good omega. You can take more, can't you? Even outside of your heat, you can take whatever your alpha wants to give you," his alpha murmured close to his ear. Harry mewled, his oversensitive hole fluttering weakly around Tom's fingers, but he was still craving. He wanted to feel Tom's knot stretching him, to remember what it was like because he didn't know how he could go without it for so long. In the best case, Tom would go to rut right after the birth of their daughter, but it wasn't likely, so Harry would have to wait until next Christmas. He definitely did not want to wait that long.

The fingers left him, leaving him empty and aching for more. His alpha purred softly, and Harry wished he could see past Tom's face. When something blunt, a lot bigger than two fingers, touched his hole, Harry keened before forcing himself to relax. His alpha seemed to be over his words, mostly switching between rumbling and crooning, sometimes purring, when he teased Harry's hole with his tip. Harry opened his legs wider, bringing his hole to even easier to access and to his relief, his alpha finally pushed in, inching deeper slowly. Had Harry been free from his bindings, he would have forced his alpha deeper, the stretch burning him so well he could just moan, staring blindly at Tom's face.

"Omega," Tom grunted when his knot hit the rim, and Harry moaned. He was sure he was closest to heat it was possible while pregnant, his only thought to be fucked to the mattress. He wanted it so much that his heart was bursting from its seams. Harry was afraid his alpha would settle for a slow pace, but he felt the immerse relief when Tom pulled back quickly, just to slam his hips down fast, their skins slapping together in the otherwise silent room.

Tom's knot started to swell more, and Tom forced it in. It was more painful than Harry remembered, but the pleasure he felt when it pressed against the gland close to his rim made every other thought vanish from his mind. Tom pulled back, ripping it free and making Harry cry out again, just to repeat the whole back and forth again and again, until it was impossible to free the knot without ripping Harry's hole, something they both wanted to avoid.

To Harry's surprise, the tip of his alpha's cock that usually pushed snugly against his cervix while the knot was in, didn't get quite as long, and he wasn't sure if the reason was on his or his alpha's body. It was a relief after every doubt he had had after his talk with Regulus.

Tom pressed his face against Harry's neck, inhaling it greedily while rocking slowly back and forth, his knot rubbing Harry's gland so perfectly that he knew it wouldn't take long until he came, probably just seconds before his alpha.

It rushed over him like a tidal wave, making him afraid he would drown to the ecstasy he felt. His whole body seized, and he was almost sure he had melted to his alpha when he felt both of their bodies like his own. Tom's knot swelled a bit more, just before Harry felt his cum hitting the back of his canal and against his cervix, drawing a deep moan from him. Tom's emotions rushed suddenly to Harry's mind, blinding him with everything his alpha was feeling at the moment. In that blind pleasure, Harry's only thought was Merlin, how did he keep his Occlumency up that long during his rut? before his mind went black.

When Harry came back to it, it was to the feeling of Tom nibbing his neck. He groaned and stretched, his hands and feet freed at some point.

"Was I too rough?" Tom asked, his voice hoarse and full of something akin to remorse, something he felt only if he thought he had done something wrong to Harry.

"Merlin, no, love, don't worry. I loved it," Harry murmured, finally cracking his eyes open. Tom was staring down at him, his hand on Harry's stomach, caressing it.

"That's good. You were so good to me." Tom grinned and nuzzled Harry's cheek, making Harry giggle.

"How's your rut?" Harry looked at Tom when he closed his eyes and hummed, clearly feeling something. His Occlumency walls were once again up, annoyingly so, and Harry decided to talk about it with him soon because he hated the emptiness and how he couldn't get through the walls when he wanted to talk with Tom while they were apart. He hated how alone it made him feel, especially as it had started properly only after he had gotten pregnant.

"I think it's actually over," Tom announced, jolting Harry out of his thoughts. "Yeah, I didn't think it would be this easy, but apparently my alpha feels sated enough now and just… wants to rest."

"Fuck," Harry breathed. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad news, but he definitely knew it wasn't normal. There was a reason someone had created pregnancy-safe potions for omegas to go through their alphas' ruts without a need for separations — something that might make the alpha sick. "That's — that's good then," he added finally, smiling at Tom before rolling to his side and hiding his face to Tom's chest. "Let's sleep a moment longer because we've spent the whole morning in the bed," he mumbled like an afterthought, his limbs already heavy and ready for a nap. He was happy when Tom indulged him and pulled him under his arm, his breathing and heartbeat putting Harry to sleep quickly.

February 1975

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Tom knew that his rut was creeping closer, slowly but surely. He had already locked himself in his room, unable to be so close to Harry while his instincts were telling him to own him. He stared at the pile of homework he had organised on his desk, annoyed that he would miss classes for the next few days.

Tom looked around the room, checking out everything to see if something was amiss. He had set his bed ready for the rut, with more than enough blankets and pillows on the sides. And his best gift so far, the scented blanket from Harry, was in the middle of the bed. His fingers found the pendant he had worn since his twelfth birthday, feeling the protective charms woven into it. Almost unbearable yearning, longing, filled his chest.

He wanted to spend his rut with Harry so desperately that it hurt. He wanted to have his best friend next to him, to see him every waking moment, to be able to touch and scent him anytime he wanted to. He had spent so many ruts alone, and it was against everything his instincts told him. He had started to ask Slughorn lock his door, just so he wouldn't accidentally get it open while on high. The least he wanted was to hurt Harry, even if he almost begged it, hanging on Tom's arms most of the time and sleeping by his side almost every night.

His body heat rose, in time with his dick hardening. It was still something he didn't know how to handle. He didn't… want to touch it by himself, but he wasn't sure what he wanted. Flopping down to the bed, he wrapped the scented blanket around himself, making it a soft cocoon for him. He shut his eyes and forced himself to relax. He wouldn't be sleeping too much during the next few days, so now that he was still able to do that, he wanted to use it for his benefit. His homework could wait for a moment.

Tom didn't know how long he had slept when he woke up next, but the shadows in his room told him it was late. His classmates, Harry — his Harry — were most likely asleep already, but it didn't matter. His room was soundproof as far as he knew, and it was just a good thing when he rumbled loudly.

Something good was in the next room, and he wanted desperately to get there. As soon as he pulled the blanket away, his instincts told him the blanket smelled the same, and huffing, he sank to it, pressing his nose against the fabric. It was — it was his mate. No, not his marked, that much he could tell from the scent. No, the scent told him that the owner was unmarked, but also unpresented, his secondary gender either beta or omega, but if they were the same age, his mate wouldn't present for a year or two at least.

Tom laid carefully to the blanket, his front rubbing nicely to it. I have too many clothes, his mind told him, and he stripped hastily, wiggling until he got the last of the items away. He sighed, a grumbling rising from his throat, when his mate's scent was so close to him. He could get closer only by being physically next to him, and it was impossible.

Why were they keeping them apart? Tom knew there had to be a good reason, that his alpha was keeping some of his memories and thoughts away, the same as he didn't remember everything from his rut after it had ended. Something about letting the alpha grow to his role with his natural age or something else like that.

His skin itched, and he rubbed himself on the blanket, the feeling spreading until it disappeared completely. A content sigh left him when he smelt himself and how strongly his mate's scent had stuck to him. He had a funny feeling on his lower stomach, something akin to hunger, but he didn't feel like he wanted to eat.

He wanted to have his mate next to him, to — to do something he didn't know how to name. To… get his mate with a child. The lucid part of his mind recoiled back, the whole thought gross and embarrassing, but his instincts drove over that part, making him rub himself against the blanket again. It felt good, in a way he had felt never before.

"Harry," he hissed, his humping getting faster while the longing on his soul got harder to ignore. It physically hurt to be apart from his mate when his whole core was screaming at him for leaving his mate alone. It made breathing difficult, threatened to close his throat and made his heart ache, but this — the scented blanket — was a huge relief. It didn't replace his mate, but it helped, easing the pain to a dull ache.

A particularly harsh thrust against the blanket made his body seize, his whole being focusing on the pleasure that thrummed through his body, making his mind nice and fuzzy. His mouth was open, and he knew he was making some noise, but his ears heard only silence, when he had to squeeze his eyes closed, his body trembling.

Tom gasped, when something bursted through his body, starting from his toes and ending to his — his dick. It wasn't enough to shock him out of the ecstasy he was feeling, and he slumped to the blanket, his stomach hitting something wet. His instincts were finally quiet, but he didn't trust it to continue for long. Groaning, he rolled over and glanced at the blanket, the heat rising to his cheeks when he realised what had happened.

He had — he had orgasmed while humping the scented blanket he had gotten from Harry.

"Fuck, I can't let him see that," he muttered before rolling back to the blanket, avoiding carefully the wet stain. He fell asleep immediately after he closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

07 | It Has Begun

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"Draco, what do you think of this?" Harry asked, turning towards Draco, who was trailing behind him, his hands full of things Harry had already picked for the baby. He was holding a light green romper with a picture of a snake on it and showing it to Draco, who had a pinched expression on his face, and Theo, who was standing behind Draco.

"I think it's great, my Lord," Draco murmured, and Harry laughed.

"You should be more attentive. Your wife is pregnant with your child. This is coming to you too soon," Harry pointed out and grinned when Draco paled.

"How do you know about that?" he whispered, and Harry quirked his eyebrows before flicking his nose.

"You know, I'm quite sensitive to pregnancy hormones currently. I can smell it from her, even from the other side of the room," he revealed. "But I haven't told anyone about it, not even my husband," he added, enjoying how Draco's eyes widened.

"I — thank you, my Lord," Draco said after a moment of silence, casting his eyes to the clothes on his arms. "Yes, I guess I will try to pay more attention, as long as it doesn't threaten your safety." It was the best he could get, so Harry nodded, turning back to the shelf where he had seen a cute dress with moving nifflers. It was adorable, and Harry didn't even stop to ask for the opinion before grabbing it. He glanced at the nightwear section, where his eyes caught overalls covered with baby therstals. Baby therstals! Harry couldn't stop the squeal escaping his mouth when he hurried to the wall and grabbed a bigger size for around a six-month-old — not that it really mattered when they had magic — to his arms.

Harry turned to Draco, lowering his two newest finds to his arms, when he saw from the corner of his eye a set of onesies and trousers with a dark blue night sky with blinking stars.

"Merlin, I love buying stuff for a baby," he told Draco and Theo, a huge grin on his lips. The trip to Bergen had been too quick for him to really look at the clothes, and now he was sad about it.

"How about this?" Draco asked him, and he turned to see the tiniest robes he had ever seen. When he took a closer look, he noticed the Slytherin crest on the chest, like they were Hogwarts robes in a miniature size. "Make her Slytherin from the start."

"Like she isn't already," Harry said, scowling and eyeing the robes. Sighing, he nodded, and Draco moved them to his pile with a smile on his face.

"How many clothes do you need? She grows so fast that you don't even have time to use everything you've bought," Theo asked, and Harry schooled his expression to his… more Dark Lord face, satisfied with how that already made Theo pale. "I apologise, my Lord," he murmured, bowing his head as much as was proper while they were in public.

"May I help you?" the shop assistant asked, coming to them. Harry wanted to rub his temples, annoyed by the interruption.

"No," Draco snarled, and the assistant left them alone, looking scared.

"Don't scare poor employees," Harry chided, but he knew Draco could hear he wasn't serious. It was mostly for the show, for their public image. Harry's stomach rumbled, and he rubbed it absently, feeling his small bump through his flowing robes. Regulus had visited him just two days earlier to check the situation and warned him that he might feel her movements within the next few weeks, and he couldn't wait for it.

"We should grab something to eat and rest our feet," Draco suggested, and Harry nodded. He knew what Draco was doing; helping him so he wouldn't need to ask anything, and it was kind of sweet. "What do you want?"

"Butterknife has the best Shepherd's Pie," Harry decided after he had listened to his body for a moment. His nausea had almost entirely passed, but some of the foods still affected him roughly.

Harry hummed, sorting through the pile of baby clothes in Draco's arms. He knew it was a lot, but their baby girl deserved the best.

"You know, I think I need to see if they have a matching hat for the Slytherin robes. Maybe with a little snake embroidery —"

"My Lord, with all due respect, Theo was saying the truth earlier. Your child will not be able to wear half of these before she outgrows them," Draco interrupted him, letting out a long-suffering sigh.

"Then I'll just have another," Harry said, smirking at Draco's visible horror. Theo actually choked, saying something under his breath, sounding suspiciously Merlin help us. Harry laughed, walking to the counter where he levitated everything from Draco's arms. When he asked, the employee produced a small hat that truly had a little snake embroidery. He knew Tom would smirk when he saw them. He always did when Harry indulged in these little things, pretending not to find it endearing.

Harry gave the bag to Theo and headed towards Butterknife, his stomach growling slowly more and more. He kept his back straight and ignored all the glances thrown at them. He couldn't wait to get his hands on Shepherd's Pie, his mouth watering from the thought alone. The street was busy, though not as busy as during the summer when the children were on holiday.

Draco kept the door open for him while Theo went in first, checking the surroundings. Harry huffed. He knew they had a lot of enemies, Tom, even more, but no one would dare to attack him in the middle of Diagon Alley in bright daylight.

"Lord Slytherin would have our hides if we didn't," Draco murmured, and Harry nodded, acknowledging the situation. He understood Tom's protectiveness, especially now that their child was growing inside of him.

After lunch, Harry let out a satisfied sigh, patting his stomach lightly as they stepped back on the cobbled street, where the air was thick with the smell of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery.

"That was exactly what I needed," he said, smiling happily at his two companions.

"You say that like I don't know your favourite foods by now, after sitting at the same table for seven years in Hogwarts and then often in the Castle," Draco huffed, crossing his arms on his chest. Harry snickered, enjoying the familiar company. Theo snorted, his hands in his pockets, probably holding his wand, but Harry tried his best to forget it. He just wanted to spend one day when he could forget, just for a moment, that he was Lord-Consort Slytherin, the Dark Lord Slytherin, the leader of their Knights. Just one day of freedom.

Harry rolled his shoulders, feeling the bright sun warming the back of his dark robes. The spring had come so quickly. One day, the snow was still melting, and the next, there were green buds on most of the trees. Diagon Alley had woken up from the winter, the shops setting small racks to the sides of the roads to show their best products. It was so… freeing to walk around, touching and feeling everything without the stress of the future. Tom was taking care of everything so he could just focus on building a home for their daughter, his nesting instincts driving in full force.

He heard some commotion from the other side of the road, but a glance over his shoulder showed nothing wrong. Draco and Theo were standing on guard behind his back, facing the other direction. It was… fine. Harry couldn't deny that he missed Tom, but there was nothing he could do. The shopkeeper of the shop next door glanced at him quickly before pulling a display stand closer to the door. Harry frowned, shivering lightly when the fine hairs on his arms rose. A hush travelled around the street, and then —

"Down!"

"Harry, down!"

Harry whirled around, his knees bending under him automatically because he had never heard similar fear in Theo's or Draco's voice. He saw a spell coming towards him, something purple and even when he tried to throw it aside, it followed him. That shouldn't be possible, was his last thought before the pain erupted in his core, and he knew nothing more.

Draco glanced at the commotion other side of the road, but there was nothing interesting. An employee threw someone out of the shop while the customer was yelling obscenes at him. Draco glanced over his shoulder, but his Lord was still going through the fabrics on the rack. He sighed, running his eyes through the crowd again, his wand in his holster, ready to shoot out if someone tried to threaten them or their Lord.

Draco had barely finished scanning the crowd when a figure suddenly stepped into their path. James Potter.

Draco stiffened, his wand shooting out of his holster as he took in Potter's grim expression. His gut twisted — this wasn't good. They had been warned about him. Lord Slytherin had told them Potter might try something if he ever learned the truth of his son's pregnancy. Before Draco could react, Potter's wand was already raised.

"Dolor Partus Damnatus Inescapabilis." The curse shot forward in a streak of sickly purple light.

"Down!" Theo shouted, but Draco knew it was too late. Their Lord's back was turned.

"Harry, down!" Draco barked, breaking the protocol, but there was no time for formality. Their Lord was already moving — spinning, trying to shield himself — but the curse curved unnaturally, following him like a predator locked onto its prey.

Time slowed around them, and he tried to move, jump to the front of it, but his legs didn't move. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, but he was sure it stopped for a few beats when an ear-splitting scream cut the air.

His Lord was on the ground, screaming like nothing Draco had ever heard before.

"I'll take care of Potter," Theo yelled at him over the noise, and Draco could just nod, his eyes glued to his Lord. The blood was slowly pooling somewhere from his legs or back, and he didn't care about his robes — or anything — when he dropped to the ground and gripped his Lord's hand. Damn it, if Lord Slytherin wanted to curse him for that, he could, but Draco wasn't going to leave his Lord alone, not now.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts, and he lifted his eyes to an older wizard he didn't recognise.

"My son, do you need something? Anything? We — we know he's Lord-Consort Slytherin. Someone sent a Patronus to the Ministry and St. Mungo, but do you need something else?"

Draco swallowed, looking down at his… bloody hands.

"Lord Slytherin," he gasped. "Send a Patronus to him. He might not know his husband is hurt," he explained. He knew his Lords had an unnatural connection, but he didn't know how far it stretched.

Draco reached out and touched his Lord's neck, searching for the pulse with his fingers. When he found it, he counted the beats, blocking his Lord's terrifying scream out of his mind. What the hell took so long? He looked around and saw Potter in Theo's hold, the ropes around his body and a satisfied smile on his lips. His fingers twitched with the want to curse the man to oblivion. He couldn't understand how someone, especially a father, could do something so cruel as to curse their own child. It didn't make any sense, but it showed that Dumbledore was ready to do anything. Draco memorised the thought, vowing to take it to his Lords so they could spin it in the paper.

But his first priority was to make sure his Lord was fine and that the baby was alright. Pulling his Occlumency walls as high as he could, he started talking, telling stories from his childhood with a calm voice, hoping that his Lord heard him and got some comfort from his voice.

Tom’s hand spasmed, the quill he had held breaking from the middle. He groaned, his hand finding his abdomen.

”M-my Lord?” Lucius asked, but Tom didn’t have time for him. The bond between him and Harry was radiating pain and terror, and he had to get to him. He shot up, his thighs knocking against the table, but it was a minor pain.

”Do you know where Draco is?”

”He should be by Lord-Consort’s side,” Lucius responded, his voice filling with urgency. Tom cursed and tugged the bond, annoyed that he couldn’t apparate from his office. He hurried out of the room, Lucius only half a step behind him.

I’m coming, love, Tom shouted through the bond, not at all sure that his words could push through the wall of pain and emotions. He impatiently tapped his wand against his thigh the whole lift ride, his patience wearing thin. A hushed discussion caught his ear.

”— attack in Diagon Alley.”

”Do you know who did it?”

”I heard it was James Potter.”

Tom tuned the discussion out, his mind slowing from the fear. He knew Harry had plans to visit Diagon Alley today, to do some shopping for their princess, and uncertainty was nagging in the back of his head. He couldn’t see where Harry was, he was only able to apparate to him.

The Atrium was busy as always, and Tom hurried towards the apparition area, pushing people out of his way, not stopping to listen to people’s yells after him. He got over the border and grabbed Lucius’s arm. With his mind and soul following the tugging sensation, he turned on his heels, apparating to Harry, his hand still on Lucius's arm.

The landing was hard. Tom's feet hit the ground, getting his teeth to click together, but he couldn't spare any thought for that.

Harry was in front of him.

Harry was at his feet, screaming, his pain so intense that Tom staggered. Only Lucius's hand on his back stopped him from falling, but he didn't notice it. He just knew that something had happened, and Harry was in so much pain that he would go crazy soon enough if no one was able to stop it.

"Draco, what happened?" Lucius's voice penetrated through the fog in Tom's mind. He glanced quickly at father and son, the latter looking shaken and pale, before returning to look at Harry. His hands shook, but he didn't even know what he could do.

"Potter attacked. I don't know what the curse was. Theo Stunned him and took him to the dungeons in the Castle."

Tom cursed under his breath, his legs finally giving up. He grabbed Harry's hand, his mouth moving on its own.

"Harry, darling, my love. Please, you're safe. I'm here. I'm here with you. You're safe. Nothing can hurt you anymore."

Someone touched his shoulder. Tom flinched, his magic lashing out. His sight blurred, and before he realised it, he was sobbing.

"Lord Slytherin! We are taking him to St Mungo, but you need to let his hand off for a moment so we can apparate him. We cannot apparate you with us."

A wind blew over Tom, and he shivered.

"Tom," Draco said, his use of his first name jolting Tom out of his shock — at least somewhat. He didn't have the energy to scold him, he had more important things to think about. "Let his hand go, so the healers can apparate him to the hospital. I will take you there, don't worry. You will see him in five minutes."

Tom's fingers flexed, his breath stuttering when he thought about it. The bond had calmed down, and for a second, he was terrified that Harry had died.

"He is just unconscious, so he doesn't need to feel the pain at the moment," Draco murmured close to his ear, like he understood Tom's thinking. He probably is, Tom realised; we spent our teenage years together. He saw us together, he has always seen us.

Draco touched the back of Tom's hand, sliding slowly closer to his fingers. Tom let him, his eyes following closely as Draco pried his fingers open.

"Come, let's go. Just a few minutes, not longer. They won't hurt him."

Something in Draco's voice finally got Tom to look at him from head to toe. His face was pale, and there was blood on his hands. He let go of Harry, hearing a quiet pop when the healers apparated with him. He glanced at the place where Harry had been lying and saw a puddle of blood in the place. A dread filled him, making him shiver from the coldness that seeped into his bones.

He turned fully to their most trusted, wrapping his fingers around his forearms. He knew that he might've squeezed too tightly, but Draco didn't show any pain.

"What happened? Why didn't you stop him?" he growled from somewhere deep.

"James Potter attacked. We protected our Lord the best we could. I don't know if Potter knew how to get past us because he is — was — an auror or if the Order taught him," Draco told him quickly. Tom inhaled, trying to make some sense of everything. He was getting ready to apparate, but before he could twist on place, Draco apparated them both out of the alley, getting them straight to St Mungo.

"What — You — It shouldn't be possible to apparate inside the hospital," Tom gasped. He hated the side-along apparation, but it had probably been for the best in his state of mind.

"It isn't, but we followed so closely to the healers that we were able to get to the same slot," Draco answered him quietly. Tom glanced around and realised that they were in the waiting room. Without stopping, he strode to the reception. There were two young women behind the counter, both of them talking to other patients or family members, but Tom's mind didn't allow him to wait. He was ready to do anything to get to Harry as soon as possible.

Pushing a couple aside, he leaned over the counter. He heard some shouts but couldn't make out the words.

"My — my husband was attacked and brought here. Just a few minutes ago. Where is he?" he growled. He barely stopped his wand from shooting at his hand. It would destroy everything if the security removed him from the hospital.

"Sir, please, wait for your —"

"No, I will not wait for anything. Where is my husband?" he hissed, his words just on the right side of English.

"Who — who is your husband?" the woman asked, her voice wavering. Someone was tugging his robes, but he couldn't turn. He had to know.

"Don't you know who I am? I am Lord Slytherin, and my husband is Lord-Consort Slytherin. Harry Slytherin." The tugging got more forceful, and Tom was ready to turn around and curse whoever was disturbing him.

"Calm down," Draco hissed close to his ear. Tom snapped out of the emotional mess he had no idea how to handle and glanced over his shoulder at Draco. "I know where they are."

"Why didn't you say earlier?" Tom demanded, his voice rising. He was light-headed, the feeling he despised more than he ever thought possible.

"I found out during your… whatever this is. Come on, the healers are waiting for you. They have stabilised Harry, but they need some additional information from you." Tom twirled around, ignoring the squeal from the woman behind the counter. Draco led him to the elevator and pushed the button to go to the fourth floor.

"Why — why did they take him to the fourth floor?" Tom asked, recalling the floor plan of St Mungo. They should've taken Harry to the ward for pregnant people, but to his shame, Tom had to admit that he didn't know if they took people there with everything when they were pregnant. Draco shrugged, and Tom was ready to say more when the pain shot through his body, leaving him gasping for breath.

"My lord?" Draco asked quickly, his voice shaking. Tom waved him away, pressing his hand against his stomach where the pain was the strongest. The doors opened, letting them into the bright corridor.

"Lord Slytherin?" a healer in lime-green robes asked. Tom nodded, unable to say anything through his gritted teeth. "I'm healer Lyndon. We have no papers about Lord-Consort Slytherin, so we need a quick recap of his health."

"Don't you have scans?" Tom gritted out, his patience wearing thin. He could feel the pain Harry was feeling strongly, so it had to be unbearable for him.

"We do. However, this curse — whatever it is — is blocking some of the scans. Follow me, I will take you to his room so we can discuss this in private. Lord-Consort is sedated and can't feel anything at the moment," healer Lyndon said, turning around and walking briskly through the corridor. Tom followed him, Draco close behind.

"Where is your father?" he asked when the silence became impossible to stand.

"He checked the situation in the alley and apparated to the Castle. He's helping Theo to get him settled," Draco told him. Tom nodded, his whole being almost vibrating with wanting to torture James Potter slowly to insanity. For once, he didn't want to kill someone but keep them forever.

Harry lay on the bed inside a blue bubble. Tom walked slowly closer, ignoring every healer in the room and healer Lyndon's questions if Draco was allowed to come in. His fingers twitched with wanting to touch Harry, to make sure that he was truly alive.

"Does Lord-Consort have any immediate illnesses or conditions we would need to know?" one of the healers asked. Tom shook his head, trying to make sense of the question. Why was he so slow? So confused? Had someone cursed him?

"He's pregnant," he said quietly, but he was sure that the healers knew about that already. "Nothing else."

"Pregnant? Marshall, do a new scan."

"Yes, healer Lyndon," one of the healers responded and waved his hand. Tom realised the problem: the curse was blocking everything aimed at Harry's abdomen.

"No results. Bring me the muggle devices!" Lyndon yelled, new urgency coming to his voice. Chaos erupted around Tom, but he couldn't look away from Harry. When he stared long enough, he was able to see his chest rising in time with breathing, but nothing else gave away him being alive.

"Who is his maternity healer? Surely he has seen one?"

"Regulus Black," Tom told them without hesitation. He tried to tug their bonds, but they were quiet, only the pain radiating through them.

"But — bloody hell! Someone, find me Regulus Black! Call him in immediately, we need him."

Tom took a step forward, ignoring the shouts he got when he passed the bubble. He sat on the bed and took Harry's hand. His skin was cool when it was usually so warm. Tom swallowed around the lump in his throat. He brushed some strands out of Harry's face and bent down to kiss his forehead. He was so beautiful, in a twisted way, when lying on the hospital bed.

Someone came closer with a flask in their hands. When they lifted it to Harry's lips, Tom reacted on insticts, his magic lashing out and pushing the flask to the floor.

"I accept only potions brewed by Severus Snape," he murmured, his hand coming to cradle Harry's cheek. He slid it lower to his throat, feeling finally his pulse against his fingertips. Someone commanded people to get Severus there.

Tom didn't know how much time had gone by when he became aware of the events around him. He finally took his eyes off Harry and glanced around. Regulus was standing by his side, a grave expression on his face. Tom opened his mouth and closed it when he didn't know what to say.

"We have identified the curse," Regulus murmured to him. Tom blinked. "I have sent some inquiries to my colleagues, but it will take some time to get any replies. And I'm afraid that we don't have that time."

"What is it?" Tom croaked, his voice unfamiliar and straight up weird in his own ear.

"It's, ah, a miscarriage curse."

Tom's mind blanked. I have failed him. How can I ever forgive myself? How can he ever forgive me?

December 1980

Tom checked his pocket for about a millionth time, a rare nervousness clenching his gut. He had gone to the restaurant straight from work, ensuring their private room would be set as he wished. Harry would be coming at any moment, and Tom was afraid that his emotions would reveal him before it was time, even though he had his Occlumency walls as high and tight as he could get them. He wanted everything to be perfect. He felt a steady pulse of his horcrux against his chest, where a small box was hidden from prying eyes.

The door opened, and Tom stood up hastily. He straightened his robes before looking at Harry properly. His heart sped up. Harry looked so damn good in his fitted dress robes, their dark red colour complimenting and deepening his eyes now that he had dropped the glamour.

”Harry, darling,” Tom breathed and wetted his lips. His mouth felt dry, and it was difficult to speak.

”Tom,” Harry greeted him, his bright smile lighting the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving only the soft flicker of candlelight between them. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Tom drank in the sight of him — the way the deep red of Harry's robes reflected the warmth in his eyes, the way he moved with effortless grace, his steps silent while usually his heels clicked against the floor, announcing his presence to everyone. There was an air of something unspoken between them, a hum of magic that had always connected them, but tonight, it was heavier.

"You're nervous," Harry said, tilting his head to the side slightly, his smile easing into something softer.

"I am not," Tom lied, forcing himself to step forward. His Occlumency walls were the only things keeping his emotions from spilling over completely, and he knew that Harry felt it too. Harry hummed, the bond flowing between them told Tom he was unconvinced, but he let it slide.

"Then kiss me," Harry told him. Tom hesitated for only a fraction of a second before reaching for him, his fingers brushing Harry's wrist as he leaned in. The kiss was brief, deliberate, nothing like their usual intensity. It was controlled, restrained. Harry pulled away just enough to study his face.

"Whatever this is, whatever you're planning… I already know it's going to be perfect," he murmured softly, and Tom swallowed, his grip tightening ever so slightly before he forced himself to let go. Not yet. He inhaled through his nose, his nostrils filling with Harry's perfect scent.

"We should eat," he said, his voice lower than usual. Harry arched his eyebrow but let himself be led to the table, where Tom pulled a seat for him before sitting down on the other side of the table. He felt the steady pulse of the ring in his pocket like it was a second heartbeat.

He just had to make it through the next hour.

"You've really outdone yourself," Harry said when their wine glasses filled and plates popped onto the table in front of them. "Private room and candlelight. Like you needed to seduce me, my love."

"I don't need such theatrics," Tom defended himself, but his lips had already turned to a wide smile only Harry ever saw. Harry's laugh was warm, and for a moment, Tom nearly lost his resolve to wait over the dinner. To get something to do with his hands, he cut a piece of meat and settled it on top of his tongue, savouring the perfect balance of spices.

"Why have we never visited this place before?" Harry asked, taking a sip of wine after his own piece. Tom shrugged. He had known since he was seventeen that he wanted to propose to Harry here, and he hadn't wanted to show it to him beforehand.

"We can start coming here regularly after tonight," he suggested, and Harry grinned. He cut into his food again, his movements easy and unhurried.

"You know, I was thinking about our first year at Hogwarts the other day," he stated, and Tom quirked his eyebrow. Harry nodded, amusement clear in his eyes. "I remember you being this impossibly smug eleven-year-old, completely enthralled with me."

"You're the one talking, missing Christmas with your parents in favour of spending the holiday with me," Tom scoffed, twirling the wine in his glass.

"Well, it meant something, didn't it? Because we are here now."

"You wouldn't have survived without me," Tom said and leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand.

"And neither would you," Harry laughed, and Tom loved the voice. "Admit it, my darling, you knew from the moment we met that we were meant to be."

"Like I haven't admitted it already," Tom huffed, shaking his head. He studied Harry for a moment, the warm glow of the candlelight reflecting in his eyes. "Before I came to Hogwarts… Before I met you on the train, I had decided that I would need no one. That I would take the power and hold it, lead this new world alone. I thought that love was nothing but a weakness, a liability.

"And now?" Harry asked, his expression softening. Tom reached into his pocket, fingers brushing the velvet box hidden there. His heart gave a single, deep thud.

"Now," he said slowly, putting everything in him to the next words, "I know that you are the only thing that has ever truly mattered." Harry's breath hitched, and his lips opened slightly, his eyes glazed when he stared at Tom. Tom had to force himself to wait just a little longer. "We should finish dinner," he purred, pulling his hand out of his pocket before Harry noticed he was holding something there.

"You're really making me wait?" Harry asked, arching his eyebrow. Tom just smirked.

"Anticipation is half the pleasure, my soul."

Tom wiped his mouth on the napkin, his hunger disappearing under the stress. He didn’t know how anyone would be able to sit through dinner before starting the action, but he wasn’t going to do that, not anymore. Their plates were almost empty, but his plan to wait until dessert was going to the trash, immediately.

”What is it?” Harry asked, lowering his utensils to his plate. He frowned, and Tom got an urge to smooth it out with his fingers.

”I —,” he stopped to clear his throat when his voice came out raspier than he had thought. ”I love you, my dearest.” He lifted his hand when Harry was going to open his mouth, not wanting any distractions. He shuffled out of his chair, dripping to his knees on Harry’s feet.

He stopped to think about his words. He had thought through what he wanted to say, but now that they were there, his mind went blank. He focused on Harry’s eyes, those wonderful eyes that were almost fully developed to the redness that was a mark for a Dark Lord.

”I — I love you so, so much. I have no idea where I would be without you, how my life would’ve turned out without your constant companionship. I thought for so long that I would be able to pull this out without a partner, without love. I thought that love was a weakness. Maybe — maybe I still believe that. Maybe I still think that love is a weakness, but you make it worth everything. With you, it doesn’t feel that way. You are the strongest person I know, the most powerful.” He breathed deeply, his legs aching in his position. He would be kneeling for no one else. Harry’s eyes shone suspiciously.

”We’ve been mated since we were sixteen. We were so young, but I haven’t regretted it even for a second. It could be enough. It should probably be enough, but I want to share everything with you. I want to protect you from everything. So…” Tom inhaled, his mind racing and hands shaking when he took the box and opened it. ”Harry James Potter, will you marry me?”

”Oh, Tom,” Harry gasped. He pulled his chair back and dropped onto his knees in front of Tom. Tom opened his mouth, but nothing came out when Harry brought his hand to his neck. ”Yes, I will marry you, you — you idiotic, silly, the most important boy,” Harry answered and drew Tom to a kiss.

Tom’s hands were awkwardly pressed between them, but it didn’t matter because bloody hell, Harry said yes. His heartbeat was erratic when Harry filled all of his senses. His blood soared in his ears, his only thought being Harry, in their bed, pretty much naked.

Tom pulled back carefully, his fingers tightly wrapped around the ring box. He had one last surprise, something he didn’t know what Harry would say about.

”Will you accept this ring?” he murmured, opening the box. His golden family ring glistened in the soft light, its black stone shining. He lifted his eyes to Harry, who looked at the ring in wonder.

”Your — are you sure?” he whispered, his voice hoarse. Harry’s emotions were rolling between them strongly.

”Yes. You are my family, my only family. You deserve to have this,” Tom told him. And I want you to have something of mine, something that will tell everyone you are mine. Harry laughed at his silent words, his eyes looking suspiciously damp. He nodded to Tom’s relief. Tom took the ring out of the box and gripped Harry's left hand. He lifted it to his lips, kissing his knuckles and ring finger before finally putting the ring on him.

When the metal touched Harry's skin, he gasped, his eyes widening when he turned to look at Tom's face. Tom got the message clearly through their bonds, how Harry hadn't wanted him to make more horcruxes, but he had done it anyway.

"This is my last one," he whispered, "I promise."

"You're an idiot, but you will be my idiot," Harry murmured, pulling Tom to a kiss that was all-consuming. Tom was almost ready to apparate them straight to their bedroom, no matter how he would curse it afterwards when he had to fix the wards. "How much?"

"What?" Tom asked with no idea what Harry meant.

"How much of a soul you still have?" Harry asked again, and Tom frowned, counting in his mind.

"Twelve and a half percent of my own, fifty of yours," he answered, grimacing at the numbers.

"No more. No more horcruxes until I have done my second, and I might never do it," Harry said, and Tom knew it was the best he could get. He nodded quickly and leaned down for another kiss, planning to make Harry forget the last bit of their discussion.

"What if we both die?" he whispered. "You'd lost your horcrux with my death. Probably," he explained quickly when Harry opened his mouth.

"You promised to protect me from everything, and I trust you on that," Harry replied cheekily, his smile the widest Tom had seen since they were children. Tom's heart fluttered from the sight, and he wrapped his arms properly around Harry, apparating out of the restaurant and straight to their bedroom. He had hoped they could move to the Slytherin Castle before his proposal, but it hadn't been possible, and the date was more important than where they would spend their first night as fiancés.

Chapter Text

08 | Push Through Hell

◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈

"It's, ah, a miscarriage curse."

Regulus's words played again and again in Tom's head. They had done everything they could so that wouldn't happen to Harry. They had done everything for their princess so she could see daylight. And now Regulus was telling him that she would never breathe the same air as Harry and Tom, that she would never be able to see them.

"Lord Slytherin? Tom? Bloody hell, bring me a bed! I have to get him to lie down."

Someone grabbed Tom's arm and pulled him away from Harry. He tried to fight against it, but he felt weak. He had failed Harry and their princess. He had never felt self-hatred, but it was now swallowing him down. Someone pushed him to a bed and dragged a sheet to his chin.

"Did he get cursed, too?"

"No, he wasn't there."

"Ah. It's a shock."

Tom dived deeper to his mind, into their bonds, hoping to get more connection to Harry while he heard snippets of discussion around him. He wanted to get closer to Harry, to wrap his arms around him and cradle him against his chest. He wanted to tell Harry how sorry he was for failing their family.

"This doesn't work. Bring me a more potent pain potion."

"Lord Prince is brewing one at the moment. He will be ready in a few minutes."

Tom gasped when a new wave of pain went through his body. Someone came to him in an instant, and a familiar magic washed over him.

"Tom, are you hurting? The scans show nothing," Regulus murmured somewhere close. Tom tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't.

"N-no," he stuttered. "We — we have a soul bond."

"I see. Can you stand the pain?"

"Yes. He probably feels it a million times worse," Tom responded, his words slightly clearer.

"Good. We're doing our best," Regulus said, but it didn't comfort Tom at all.

"Will he die?" he whispered, his deepest fear lodged in his heart. He didn't want Harry to die, he didn't want to lose their two-way soul bond when he would use Harry's horcurx in him to resurrect him. He has to create a second horcrux.

"No. I can promise that he will not die. This doesn't usually kill adults, only makes them feel a terrible pain."

Tom curled into himself, pulling the sheet over his head. He — he wanted to cry. He tried to send some comfort and love through the bond, but they didn't reach Harry. He swallowed, trying to get the burning behind his eyes to stop.

"How about we wake him up?"

"You can try, but I don't think it's a good idea. The pain is so much, and as long as we don't have anything to lessen it..."

"Have you tried muggles' pain medicine?"

Severus. Lord Prince was there, and Tom almost wanted to get out of bed. He realised that he wanted a father. His mind went to Remus, but he couldn't call him in. He had no idea what his mentor would do when hearing that James had cursed his own son. He couldn't just blurt it out at him like that. It had to be careful, and only after they had decided what to do with James.

Fury, burning with a desire to torture that man, washed over him. He was the reason why they had to lower their firstborn to the grave before she could see her fathers. They would never know if she had Harry's eye colour.

Would Severus understand? Tom realised with terror that he would tell Lily. He lowered the sheet from his face, his heart beating fast. Severus stood at the foot of Tom's bed like a statue, but his eyes revealed his emotions.

"Severus," Tom croaked. He waited until Severus had turned to him fully. "You can't tell her. Not before Harry is fine, and we've talked with her by ourselves. You can't. Promise me that you won't." In any other situation, it would've been comical how he managed to break through Severus's Occlumency, his emotions crashing to his face with a clear fear and anger. Severus regarded him a moment before nodding tightly.

"I understand. I won't. You will tell her that you denied me," he murmured before turning back to Harry's bed. Tom realised that Severus was more than just Lily's best friend to Harry. That — that Harry was more than just his best friend's child. They were basically family if Tom understood anything about the way people, especially lonely people, regarded relationships.

Tom swallowed, turning finally to look at Harry. He didn't look good, not at all. His skin shone with the layers of sweat, and his face was almost white. His lips were pale and looked chapped painfully.

"Why is he still sleeping?" he whispered, not knowing who he was asking.

"The pain has subsided slightly. Thank Merlin for the muggles' pain medication. Lord Prince is a genius," Regulus told him, appearing so close that Tom couldn't stop himself from flinching. "St Mungo knows a few healers who are working in the muggle hospitals. We — we will need more than just general pain medication. We need something that they use in the hospitals because Lord-Consort will be in even more pain when..." Regulus trailed off, his expression closing off.

"When?" Tom prompted, scared to hear the answer but needing to know it.

"When he will give birth to your daughter," Regulus whispered so quietly that Tom had to strain his ears to make out the words. He swallowed, something burning behind his eyes again. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, forcing the pressure out of him.

"W-Why muggle medicine?" he asked. He had to get something else to think about. He couldn't just think about what Harry would have to do soon enough.

"The curse stops any potions or spells from affecting Harry," Severus responded, his eyes firmly on Harry's unmoving body. "There's only so much you can do when you can't do anything magical. I thought that it wouldn't be for nothing to at least try, so I made a quick run to the pharmacy and bought a few different medicines to try. They helped quickly, so it was clear to me that even though the curse is stopping every try to help Harry, the creator didn't count in the muggle ways." Tom nodded, trying to grasp the fact that they had to heal his husband with muggle ways. He was so scared, and the only thing he wanted was to feel their bond in its full power.

"Do they have anyone capable of using muggle things here?" he asked, desperate for anything else. He wanted to kick the analytical part of his brain to move, to think.

"Yes, they have a few healers who have studied muggle medicine since some of the curses might go worse when trying to heal with magic," the healer who had come to the room without Tom's notice answered. "We also have a few on-call healers who usually work in the muggle hospitals, and one of them is a midwife — their maternity nurse. I've called her in as soon as we get all we need because the sooner we get the baby out of Lord-Consort, the faster he will recover."

Tom nodded, his eyes glued to Harry's unmoving body. His baby bump was barely visible, and it was one of the multiple things Tom would mourn. He hated himself for not being there when Harry needed it most.

"Tom, you should rest," Regulus suggested, breaking the heavy silence. Tom glanced at the man, not believing he could truly sleep, but he knew Regulus had his best interests in mind. He shrugged his robes off and climbed onto Harry's bed, pulling his husband against his chest and breathing in the scent that was weaker than usual, with a hint of blood and hospital in it. He rumbled, trying to get some peace from it.

Someone touched his shoulder, and he jumped up, almost falling from the bed.

"Carefully, it's just me," Regulus told him quickly, lifting his hands, and Tom realised only then that his wand had shot from his pocket to his hand without a thought. "We have all we need, so we are ready to move to the room where magic doesn't disturb electronics and then wake up Harry. We could have rolled you into the same bed, but I thought you wouldn't appreciate waking in a different place." Tom had to admit Regulus was right. He would have killed someone if he woke up in an unfamiliar place without knowledge of how he got there. He glanced at Harry, who still looked like he was just sleeping.

"Very well," he forced out, his throat dry. "Lead the way." He waited for the moment Harry would wake up, how their bonds would blossom alive in an instant, but he was scared. He knew from the way his own pain had eased down that the new pain medication had helped a lot, but it couldn't stop everything. And the pain was the last thing he wanted Harry to feel. He couldn't even imagine how Harry would feel after hearing their daughter had —

No, he definitely didn't want to think about that unless he had to.

Harry woke up slowly. He felt fuzzy, and the scent of an unfamiliar place made it worse. His heart beat in his throat, but it was almost impossible for him to open his eyes.

”Alpha,” he whined, hoping to get some comfort. His alpha’s scent filled his nose, and his fingers brushed his hair back.

”How do you feel?” Tom asked. Harry tried to frown, his mind stumbling over the question. He was confused about Tom’s tone, which was... something he didn’t know how to identify. He turned his concentration inwards, going through his body part by part. He had some aching in his stomach, but that was —

The events came crashing back. He keened, his terror rising. He remembered the purple light, an unfamiliar spell that had gotten past the shield Theodore had cast. He remembered the worst pain he had ever felt. And then... just empty?

”What happened?” he asked, cracking his eyes open. He didn't see past Tom, but he didn't care about that. He saw the expression on Tom's face seconds before their bonds bloomed alive, and Harry was sure that if something was able to stop his heart, it was that. The fear, the terror in Tom's face, in everything he felt. It was difficult to breathe, Harry realised when he was gasping for some air.

"Harry! Take a deep breath," Regulus shouted somewhere close, his voice still muffled under something. It was almost like he was underwater. Tom's scent washed over him, so suddenly that he inhaled deeply, like a man after suffocating for a good time. He felt a sharp pain in his neck, a flood of pleasure filling his mind.

"What?" he croaked. Tom's face came into his view, his teeth glistening with redness.

"'m sorry, my love, I had to bite your mating gland so you would calm down," he murmured, brushing some strands out of Harry's face. Harry sighed, finally able to breath while he tried to build some resemblance of Occlumency walls around his mind to protect it from the emotions that were too strong for him at the moment.

"I — what happened?" Harry whispered, finally turning to look at Regulus, who was wearing lime green robes, showing clearly that he was a healer. He hoped that Regulus was there only because Tom wanted him to take care of all of their needs, but some part of his mind whispered to him how Regulus would be there only if their baby girl was hurt.

"You got hit by a curse," Regulus started, his throat moving when he swallowed. A silence, with only a clock ticking on the wall, followed. Harry waited. He glanced at Tom, who was staring at Regulus, something odd flicking behind his eyes. An exhaustion hit Harry, weighing his limbs to the bed.

"What curse?" Harry snapped when no one continued. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't without someone telling him everything first.

"It's a curse that's meant to force the victim to have a miscarriage. It is painful, and no magic or potions can get through the curse until — until the fetus is out of the bearer." Harry's heart skipped a beat when the understanding came to him.

An ear-splitting scream. It wasn't until Tom's hand closed his mouth forcefully that he realised it had come from him.

"W-what do you —? Our — our baby —?" he stuttered. The door banged open, and Harry tried to leap out of bed, but his legs didn't move.

"Out," Tom growled, his fingers wrapped tightly around Harry's wrist. Harry didn't see who he was talking to but he could hear a quick apology before the door closed again. Tom's magic washed over him when — Harry supposed — he wrapped the room with silencing charms.

"Your baby did not survive the attack," Regulus murmured slowly. Before Harry realised it, his magic exploded and only Tom's quick reflexes saved Regulus's life. He knew that he was flailing around, his legs still rooted on the bed, while Tom almost sat on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around Harry's upper body. He knew that Tom was saying something but he couldn't feel, his own mind full of cries.

Cries of a broken omega, his mind told him out of nowhere, and it made sense.

"Get it out, get it out, get it out, getitout," Harry repeated, his eyes blind from — from tears? He didn't know, and he didn't care. His stomach convulsed, his chest heaving, and he threw up, a gastric acid burning his throat. A hand massaged his back. Harry wanted to get away. He had destroyed everything, failed his alpha and their precious child by getting her killed while he had been responsible for protecting her. How could his alpha look at him ever again?

His alpha would leave him because he wasn't strong enough. His alpha deserved a better omega, someone who was able to keep his child alive until birth.

A finger pushed to his mouth, forcing it open before something was promptly dropped on his tongue. It was something dry, almost... floury, basically tasteless. He wanted to spit it out, but someone forced his lips together. When it started to melt on his tongue, the taste changed for the worse, making Harry swallow it, whatever it was.

"Good," Tom hissed, that one word penetrating through the thick wall that surrounded Harry. He wanted to answer, to protest, maybe to tell how sorry he was, maybe to beg for forgiveness. How would he survive without his alpha? He knew it was impossible. They were too tightly wrapped together, their souls and minds. Would his alpha regret their soul bond after this?

Harry wanted to cry his despair out of him, but his body didn't listen to him. He couldn't get a word out of his mouth, he couldn't see anything, he couldn't even move.

"What are we going to do?" he sobbed, his voice hoarse and throat aching. How much had he screamed? Tom's arms wrapped around him, pressing him against Tom's hard and warm chest. His tears flew faster, and he couldn't stop. Tom was rocking with him back and forth, their bodies slotted together like a puzzle. He pressed his ear against Tom's chest, listening to the steady thump thump thump.

"You have to push her out," Regulus broke the heavy silence. Harry shook, his whole being shocked to the core. He couldn't understand how someone was able to cast the curse. Who created it and why?

"I — who?" he demanded. He didn't remember seeing anyone in Diagon Alley. The pain wracked through his abdomen, and he curled into himself, forcing Tom back. He tasted blood and realised he had bitten his tongue while keeping his mouth shut.

"Darling, I don't think —"

"I have the right to know," Harry growled, lifting his face from his knees. Tom flinched, and Harry backed up until his back hit the headboard of the bed.

"James Potter." A vase exploded on the windowsill, but Harry couldn't look away from his husband, his alpha, the love of his life. It couldn't be true.

"Mom?" he croaked, terrified from the thought of his mother being responsible as well.

"She doesn't know," Tom said softly, reaching out with his hand, and Harry crossed their fingers together, trying to calm his breathing. "It's already in the papers that he's on the run."

"Where is he?" Harry asked, the fury and hurt rising inside of him. He wanted to torture his biological father for a long time, never killing him, just to make him suffer as much as possible. Tom glanced at him with a crooked smile that promised horror to their enemies. "In a Castle? Good. Make sure he is locked into the coldest cell," he growled. A new wave of pain washed over him, and he couldn't stop the scream from escaping him.

"Black, I will fucking kill you if you don't help him immediately!" Tom yelled to Regulus, and Harry covered his ears, tears streaming out of his eyes.

"Tom, love, alpha, please," he begged, hearing himself from far away. He squeezed his eyes closed and pushed his face to his knees, trying to get the practical side of his mind stronger than his omega.

"What do you need? My dearest, tell me," Tom murmured, appearing so close to Harry that it was hard to miss the words. Harry locked his eyes with Tom's, a silent plea in them for the specific help he knew he needed in order to lock his omega away until everything was over.

Until he got home.

Tom understood, and Harry sobbed when he felt Tom's mind brushing his, helping him to push his omega aside for a moment. I will take care of you, Tom whispered, but he couldn't hide the pain he was feeling, and it just made Harry feel worse.

"Can I call in a few healers to help me with the — well, you know?" Regulus asked, and Harry broke eye contact.

"I guess," Harry whispered. It was the last thing he wanted, to let anyone else but his alpha see him in that state, but he didn't have any options. He knew he needed help, and the hate towards James just got stronger. It had to be Dumbledore.

"I know. The old man probably gave the curse to him," Tom said, and Harry glanced at him in confusion, sure that he had only thought about it and with the walls he had currently around his mind, it was supposed to be impossible for Tom to get any echoes of his thoughts. "You said it aloud," Tom explained and lifted Harry's hand to his lips. "I love you, remember that. More than anything and nothing could drive me away from you." Harry sighed, leaning back into the pillows and slowly settling down properly. He had needed to hear that, he couldn't deny that.

"Harry, push your shirt up," Regulus told Harry, stepping closer to the bed with a weird device in his hand. Harry eyed it warily, his mind making all kinds of explanations to the device that looked so out of place. "This is an ultrasound device. It will... mirror the picture of your womb to this screen," he said, pointing at the cart behind him. Harry swallowed and nodded, not truly ready to see proof of — of that, but the healers probably needed it.

Regulus spurted something cool to his skin, pressing the weird thing against his stomach. He moved it slowly around, and Harry turned to look at Tom, who was already staring at his face intently.

"We will get through this, my love," Tom assured him, and Harry tried to smile at him. A new wave of pain rolled over him, making his whole body convulse.

"That was a contraction," someone said, but Harry didn't want to hear. He didn't want to hear how his body was failing him.

"Make them stop," Harry whispered and swallowed, trying to get the lump in his throat moving.

"Oh, my dearest, they have to talk about it, and we can't use magic as long as there are any muggle devices in the same room." It made sense, but it didn't make it easier to stand. "Do you want to talk about something?" Tom asked after a moment of silence, the healers' conversation in the background.

"Like what?" Harry asked. The thing Regulus was holding moved on his skin, and he shuddered when it went over his navel.

"Anything that isn't confidential." Harry's mind flashed to their dungeons, but Tom was right. Even though the healers had a confidentiality obligation, it didn't mean they wouldn't gossip or worse, snitch on them to the aurors. It would have been the last thing they needed; aurors banging their front door. He toyed with the idea of opening his barriers, just enough for them to talk through their bond, but it didn't feel good.

"Can you..." Harry stopped and hesitated. He wasn't sure if he was in a place to ask anything from Tom. His alpha hummed, encouraging him, so Harry sighed, gathering himself together. "Can you tell me a story? Or a daydream?" Tom quirked his eyebrows, but nodded, accepting Harry's request.

"One day, in a far future, we will sit on the beach, enjoying the sun. We are somewhere abroad, maybe in Italy or Spain, but I guess some of the coastal countries in Africa could do too. We are there studying the kind of magic we can't find here, but also enjoying the warmth." Tom weaved a daydream of travelling, and Harry closed his eyes, trying to forget the prodding and other voices, concentrating on Tom's voice.

"Lord and Lord-Consort Slytherin," one of the healers interrupted them, and Harry opened his eyes and glared at the woman standing at the foot of his bed. Harry noticed her lips tightening. "We should move to the next part."

"Meaning that we will start with the birth," Regulus continued before Harry could ask what she meant. Harry tensed, his grip on Tom's hand tightening. "We have two healers who have worked in the muggle hospitals for years and who come as assistants when we need them in a situation like this, where we cannot use any magic. The next part isn't... comfortable, but it will offer more pain relief, and we want to try something before inducing the natural birth."

"What is it?" Tom demanded, and Harry was thankful for that. He didn't have energy to ask more information, but he didn't trust anyone else but Tom and Regulus in the room.

"There is a thing called C-section, which means that the abdomen is cut open and the baby is taken out through the cut. We are not sure if the curse allows that with a manual knife, but we have to try it. It would make the process easier for Lord-Consort," one of the other healers explained. "I have worked in the labour ward for years as a doctor — equivalent to the healers here — so I know how to do it."

Harry didn't realise he was whimpering until Tom caressed his cheek. Their eyes locked together, and Harry wanted to say something, anything, but the fear was too much. He wasn't sure if he could let anyone cut his body without trust.

"No. Healer Black is the only one who can touch my husband with anything sharp," Tom told them, leaving no space for objections. The relief washed over Harry, making him sag against the bed.

"I can't — fine, I believe I can teach him quickly how to cut through the layers," the same healer said, and Harry closed his eyes, too tired to think of the whole thing. "But first of all, we have to give a medicine to Lord-Consort Slytherin." Harry closed his eyes until Tom grabbed his arms.

"You should sit. The medicine will be put in you through your back, so they have to have access to it," Tom murmured, and Harry swallowed. Tom hoisted him up and helped him to turn towards him, his legs over the side of the bed. Tom handled him to the right position, and Harry flinched when someone touched his back.

"It's just me," Regulus murmured behind him. "I'm opening your gown. I will keep my hands on your back, but I cannot put the medicine on you; another healer will do that. It will hurt a bit, but it helps quickly." Harry tried to breathe, to remember that the sooner he got out of St Mungo, the better it would be. The omega whined and trashed in the makeshift cage in Harry's mind, wanting to hide in the darkest hole in the whole world. Harry just hoped Tom wouldn't let him run too far.

The needle only pinched, and Harry bit his lip to keep all the noises in. He could almost imagine how the medication flew in. The healer secured something to his skin before Regulus's hands moved away.

"You can lie back down," Tom murmured, helping Harry to do just that. Harry kept his eyes closed and squeezed Tom's arm tightly, a new wave of pain pushing through him.

"Hurts," he whimpered, the soft hisses of Parseltongue more comfortable to his throat than English. His whole body shook with the contraction.

"Breathe, my darling," Tom murmured, his lips pressed against Harry's shoulder. "The pain will ease soon."

Harry tried to follow Tom's voice, but it was difficult. The tears leaked out of his eyes freely, and he rubbed his cheeks angrily. The time lost its meaning when he fought through the pain again and again.

When breathing became easier, he realised the medication truly worked. He hadn't believed it after one of the healers had shown him how the magic didn't do anything. It was... a nice surprise. It left him gasping for air, feeling that he hadn't breathed in a long time. Tom rubbed his shoulders, ran his fingers through his hair and was just there for him through everything. Harry reminded himself of that all the time, but the omega didn't accept it, claiming that his alpha hated him.

"It's time," someone said, penetrating through the fog in Harry's brain. "Healer Black, it's your turn." Harry tensed, remembering their words about cutting through his stomach. His lower half was completely numb, and when he tried to move his feet, he wasn't sure if it worked.

"No," he whimpered, squeezing his eyes closed. His hand went to his abdomen. He — he couldn't believe it. His daughter had to be alive under the skin. She had to.

"Lord Slytherin, can you keep him in place, and most importantly, his hands out of the way?" someone said, and Harry twitched when someone grabbed his wrists.

"Darling, stop," Tom hissed, and Harry forced himself to relax. Thumbs rubbed the point where his pulse was the clearest under his skin. "We have to do this, otherwise you'll be in pain for a long time." Harry sobbed, knowing that Tom was telling the truth, but it didn't make it any easier. "Don't be scared, I will help Regulus move your gown out of the way, so your stomach is bare."

Despite the warning, Harry still flinched when someone lifted his gown, rolling the fabric to his chest. He looked down, his view blurry, but he could see the slight swell of his stomach. It will be away when I leave the hospital. He whimpered, turning his eyes on his husband.

"You're safe, my love," Tom told him, brushing his cheek so tenderly Harry's chest ached. He wanted to show the same care and love to his alpha, but after the attack, how could he? He was weak.

"I will put a screen so you don't see what I'm doing," Regulus said, and Harry swallowed, glancing at his stomach one last time before the dark blue screen was lifted on top of him, stopping him from seeing anything and keeping his hands away. Tom appeared to his view, his expression too soft.

"We'll be fine," he said, cupping Harry's face. "Believe me, we will be fine." Harry blinked, unable to say anything. He felt a ghost of a touch on his stomach, but it disappeared as soon as it had come. "We have the attacker. He will be punished, and you have free rein on him. You can have him as long as you want, to torture him to the brink of death as many times as you want. We can have him for decades if you so decide."

Harry's heartbeat slowed when he thought about it. He wanted to kill James for what he did, but it wouldn't be right for his mother. But to keep him imprisoned forever, to torture him again and again until he begged for death... It sounded so good. He wanted that.

"Is everything good?" a red-haired healer asked, peeking behind the screen. Harry couldn't say anything, but he saw Tom nodding. The healer disappeared, leaving them to their own bubble. If he forgot that they were in St Mungo and what had happened, it was almost nice to spend some time together and plot their future.

"Tell me what you want to do to him," Tom asked. Before Harry realised it, he was telling it all, staring at Tom's blood-red eyes intently the whole time. He talked about how he wanted to break every bone in James's body and let them heal naturally, how he wanted to starve him, how he wanted to castrate him. He wanted the man to feel every bit of pain he had felt.

He told Tom how he wanted to talk with his mother, to tell him everything and ask what he thought. He told Tom how he wanted to send a piece of James to the old coot, who must have been behind the attack, too.

"The fetus is out!"

The words pierced through their bubble. Harry saw how Tom's eyes widened, felt how he grabbed his hands more intently. The light increased around them, and Harry just watched, watched, watched until he couldn't see anything but Tom's eyes. The explosion shook the whole room, but all Harry could see was Tom's eyes, how they glanced around before coming back to him. The whole world was so silent, like the explosion had ripped all the noise out of it. Harry smiled, tried to, his lips stretching into something else, but he didn't know what. He just saw the fear in Tom's eyes. Not towards him, no, never. Harry didn't have time to think about it more, the voices snapping back to place so suddenly that he was sure he was becoming deaf from the screams.

"It was an accident. We will be fine," Tom murmured, but Harry didn't understand his words. Someone grabbed his wrist, jumping back with a yell, but Harry couldn't turn away from his alpha.

"Lord Slytherin, chain him to the bed," someone said, but Harry didn't understand the words. Chain him? Why? What had he done?

"I will keep him restrained," Tom said calmly, his tone betraying how nervous he felt through their bonds. "Is he healed?"

"Yes, but no thanks to your husband," the same person snapped, and Harry frowned. He was confused. "You should thank healer Black for his quick reflexes with both the Shield Charm and his healing spells." Harry tugged Tom's sleeve, trying to get his attention back to him.

"Is he fine?" Tom asked instead, still looking intently over Harry's head.

"Yes. Some small wounds, not more than that. But two of our healers are dead and two in the brink of death. You should be thankful if they survive. The hospital will sue you and ban you from ever coming in again anyway for two deaths, but four... It would be the end of your career, Lord Slytherin."

Both Harry and Tom growled at the same time, Harry because someone threatened his alpha, Tom because, Harry guessed, he was threatened. The rest of the words clicked in his mind, filling him in finally with what had happened.

Had he killed those healers? He didn't believe it for a second. How could he have done it?

"It was an accident. Your magic escaped you, manifesting your pain to everyone," Tom hissed, and Harry breathed in, thankful that someone had seen some sense to explain what had happened. It was an accident, he knew that much. He hadn't meant to kill anyone.

The... emptiness was odd. Harry pushed his magic to his stomach, to his womb, like he had done so many times during the pregnancy, but he couldn't feel another life, another human being, there. They — they didn't have a daughter. Harry's eyes blurred when he thought about that, only feeling Tom's hands on his face.

Chapter Text

09 | Beg you to stay

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Harry stared at the ceiling, his emotions making his magic whirl around him wildly. He had resorted to the consort's chamber when his magic had hurt Tom when he had tried to get Harry out of his nightmares. He felt so… empty. He had closed off all the emotions from their bonds so Tom could concentrate on his work. Harry couldn't understand how he could do something like that, but he tried to be fine with it. People had different ways of handling grief; maybe Tom's thing was to dive into the work so deeply that he barely returned to sleep.

"Master Harry, what do you want to eat?" one of the house elves asked, jolting Harry out of his thoughts. He just shook his head, mumbling something close to "I'm not hungry" before returning to stare at the ceiling.

Why did it hurt so fucking much? They hadn't known their daughter. She hadn't even been big enough to keep in hand when she had been born. Harry had been waiting for the ear-piercing cry so much, and when it hadn't come, instead of hearing words, the fetus is out, his inner omega had wailed, exploding his magic into the room. Harry pushed the memory aside, not wanting to remember how he had killed three of the healers, one of them dying from the damage he had caused. It had been quick work to clear him out. The aurors had visited his room quickly, but they had told him almost immediately that he wasn't criminally responsible for that. He had heard that if they ever found James Potter, he would get the blame for that.

James Potter was in their dungeons, in a small cell. Harry knew that he was fed irregularly, making him truly suffer in there, but he hadn't been able to see him yet.

Harry rubbed his face, closing his eyes tiredly. He was so tired. He knew that his magic wanted to get something to do. He wanted to get to their dungeons, to drive James crazy with torture, but he couldn't face him. His breathing grew erratic when he even thought about facing his Father face to face.

Who could do something like that to someone's child?

Harry had asked himself the question so many times. It still laid in his mind unanswered. He couldn't understand.

If he was honest with himself, he missed Tom terribly. He missed the warmth and safety, his strong arms around his middle. Tom had told him they would be fine, but where was he? The tears were hot on his cheeks, and he hated them. He had cried so much. He was so fucking tired.

A tray appeared next to him, the steaming bowl of soup with some bread and a glass of pumpkin juice, but Harry turned his face away. His stomach turned around, and he didn't know if it was hunger or nausea, but he didn't care enough. If Tom wanted him to eat, he could come to feed him by himself.

A silver Patronus, in the form of Tom's basilisk, flew through the wall, stopping at the end of the bed.

"My love, please, eat something."

It disappeared as soon as it had come, and Harry ignored the words. His body had failed him. He had the right to fail his body in turn. He didn't deserve food, didn't deserve to be full and content. The silence of their quarters was heavy, weighing him down. He missed some company, kind of, but he knew no one but Tom could get in.

A knock on the door shocked him to the core. He touched the bond carefully not to alarm Tom, but when it felt like it always felt when they were away from each other, he didn't have other options to get out of bed and grab his wand.

"Harry?" a familiar voice called through the door, and Harry breathed in relief. He had forgotten that Regulus had been admitted to their wards after he became Harry's healer.

"Come in," Harry told him, dragging himself to the armchair. The tray disappeared from the bed, appearing seconds later on the small table next to him. He didn't have time to be annoyed about it when the door opened, and Regulus stepped in.

"Hi. I wanted to check on you," the man explained before coming properly to the room and taking an armchair from the other side of the table. "I went to check on Lord Slytherin, and he expressed his worry about you."

"That asshole. He could have come to check me by himself," Harry muttered, fingering the hems of his sleeves. His shirt was way too big, and he had stolen it from Tom when his omega needed some comfort in the middle of everything.

"Maybe, but I'm also responsible for the well-being of you both, so I was planning on coming anyway," Regulus countered, and Harry swallowed. He nodded, his eyes cast on the floor. "You know, you should eat. You have lost way too much weight since the discharge from St Mungo."

"Not you too," Harry groaned, hitting his head back. The ceiling was different from his seat, he noticed. It had different whirls, the colour slightly darker.

"I can always give you nutrient potions and in the worst case, spell them into your body, but it's not comfortable even the slightest," Regulus threatened, and Harry grumbled. He knew Regulus was telling the truth, but it didn't make it easier.

"Fine. Will you talk to me while I try to eat something?" he asked. He remembered how Tom hadn't been able to tell about Regulus because of his mysterious partner. "Tom told me something about you being married, and that was one of the reasons he couldn't tell me about you earlier," he added, hoping to get more details straight from Regulus. The man chuckled, turning his chair towards the table.

"Very well. Could we also get the cups of tea? But Harry, you have to start eating now, if you want to get any information." Harry groaned, copying Regulus's move to turn his chair to a better angle. He called in a house elf and ordered tea.

"I'm eating," he said, grabbing the spoon. He blew air into the soup, waiting for it to cool down slightly before taking it to his mouth.

The taste of the soup, just a simple vegetable soup, was heaven. Harry's stomach grumbled, clearly getting the message about food, and the newly awoken hunger nearly choked Harry.

"Good. Well, you know how I was abroad for years, first studying and then working?" Regulus started, pouring himself some tea and adding milk and sugar. Harry nodded, eating more soup before turning his attention to the bread. "After my studies, I worked in Egypt for years. The Gringotts had a lot of curse-breakers there constantly, checking the finds and all that jazz. One of them came to me one day after he had triggered a tricky curse. We had to spend a week together to get it healed. And, well…" To Harry's utter astonishment, Regulus blushed. He swallowed the bread and drank some juice, thinking about Regulus's words.

"But who is your partner?" he asked.

"Bill Weasley," Regulus revealed. Harry gaped, staring at the man with wide eyes.

"But — what — how?" He knew Tom didn't invite his spy in person to the Knight meetings to not revealing his identity, but he was still amazed. He would have never believed Regulus's mysterious partner was a Weasley.

"He's not Light," Regulus defended. "Being a good curse-breaker needs a lot of Dark Arts. He had a good sense of them. He's a genius. He understands how wrong the Light side is doing to anyone else. Of course, it took some time for us to meet eye to eye, but when you are forced to spend a week together in a small place without breaks, you quickly start to open up. You can't start fighting about your different opinions."

"I… know the Weasleys enough to know that they like to push their noses on everything. How have you kept it a secret?" Harry asked. He hadn't asked his mother about the Weasleys in years, but he realised he probably should do that. It was good to know the enemy.

"I have this alter ego. We thought about it for a long time, and after Bill's mother tried to push him to marry almost any woman on sight, we had to get something. I have almost infinite storage of a hair of a muggle woman who resembles the Rowles. My alter ego is a woman named Esther Rowle, something that the Rowle family supports with the pressure from Lord Slytherin. Every time we are invited somewhere, I go there polyjuiced as Esther," Regulus explained, shrugging like it was nothing. Harry could just stare at him. The heights Regulus went for his partner…

"Wait!" he started, a realisation hitting him like lightning. "Are you an omega?" he blurted out, slamming his hand against his mouth immediately afterwards. It wasn't polite to ask about anyone's secondary gender.

"What gave me out?" Regulus asked, crossing his arms in front of him, his lips in a pout. Harry rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"You, apparently, pretend to be a woman without a problem — something I haven't heard any male do gladly if they don't have… what is it? Hmm, shall we say, want to be a woman. But also, your brother is an omega, and it's often something you get from your parents," Harry explained, doing his best to use the correct words. He had to admit he didn't know everything, but he did his best, and it had to be enough.

"Okay, yes, that is true," Regulus laughed, relaxing in his seat. Harry smiled at him tentatively. "Bill is an alpha." Harry frowned.

"How did they let you spend a week alone in a small room?"

"They don't care about that when it's a life or death situation. Our secondary genders are literally the last thing on our minds," Regulus explained and emptied his cup. Harry looked down, surprised to see his bowl empty and all the bread eaten.

"Right, that makes sense. How long have you been together?" He tried to think when Bill Weasley had been in Egypt, but it had been a long time. He remembered faintly how Ronald Weasley had spoken about him being there when they had been only eleven, so it was a long time ago.

And he actually enjoyed having company and talking about other things.

"Almost twenty years, married for fifteen," Regulus told him, looking something far away with a smile on his face. Harry hummed, looking down at his hands. His heart ached with how much he missed his husband.

"Have you thought about children?" Harry blurted, his eyes widening. He felt like being choked, the air suddenly having disappeared from him. He tried to breathe, but it was impossible. He reached for his throat, clawing it, his eyes filling with tears, blurring them. He could make out Regulus in front of him, his lips moving, but he didn't hear anything.

Why had he asked that? Their daughter —

His stomach cramped. He realised Regulus was holding his shoulders. Would he die? Would Tom resurrect him? Even after what had happened? Maybe he was happy to get rid of Harry so easily…

"Breathe, Harry. You will be fine. I gave you Dreamless Sleep, and when you wake up, everything will be better," he heard suddenly. Oh. He wouldn't die. Harry wasn't sure if it was a relief or disappointment, but he welcomed the darkness of Dremless Sleep, trusting that Regulus would lift him to the bed. Maybe Regulus was right, maybe everything would be better when he woke up.

Tom stared at the parchment, ignoring the persistent headache at the back of his head. He knew where it had come from, but he could not spare any attention to it. Not until Harry was ready to face his emotions, a traitorous voice that sounded almost like Remus's, whispered in his mind. Tom scowled, focusing back on the words.

The report shows clearly how BW has done a good work. He is a man of his word, truly caring about the safety of our main facility. I could not be happier to have him. How did you manage to talk him to our side? I was sure that none of them would want to have anything to do with us.

Like it was something Avery should know about. Tom wanted to throw the letter into the flames. Of course, he knew that their Weasley could do the job, but let them suspect. They didn't know about the marriage, about anything between him and Regulus — not that they knew about Regulus either, his existence still something akin to a secret, although he knew the news would break down as soon as St Mungo could get their bearings together.

Tom waved his hand, and the report disappeared. He knew it would appear on his desk in the Castle, and to have it in the Ministry… it was a larger risk than he had given permission to take, so he noted down to punish Avery for his mistake. They didn't afford to make those kinds of mistakes, even with the names shortened to their initials.

The bond calmed down between him and Harry, telling him that Harry had fallen asleep, despite it being only lunchtime. He hoped his Patronus had made a difference, and Harry ate, at least something, but he didn't have high expectations. His mind went back to the Day, to the day that started their new reality.

The new parchment in front of him blurred, and he did his best to clear his eyes. He would have a Wizengamot session later that afternoon, and he had to prepare for it. He couldn't ignore his work.

Tom had thought nothing could make him feel what he was feeling right now. He had been so sure that he was more than his emotions. The pain… it was unbearable. He wanted to forget everything that had happened during the last week, to make it disappear. He wanted to go back home, to kiss Harry's stomach, to look at everything they had bought for their child with nervous anticipation for their daughter to arrive.

He pressed his eyes to his face, surprised to feel the wetness. Did he cry? Scowling, he wiped his cheeks dry and pushed his Occlumency walls as high as he could. It didn't stop the pain that was carving his chest.

Was it a mistake to return to work so soon? The Minister had promised him a leave if he needed it, but he had brushed her aside, telling her that he was fine.

The truth was that he was not fine, but he couldn't let his emotions fill him. The best way to avoid that was to do something. While Harry was grieving in his own way, it was easier to be in the Ministry than at home, where he could even smell Harry's emotions.

A knock on the door made him clean himself quickly. He stood up and made sure his clothes were straight, and a glance at the mirror confirmed he had managed to reduce the reddness in his eyes. He got ready to scold his secretary for interrupting him, but to his surprise, he came face to face with Regulus.

"My Lord," he murmured quietly, bowing his head in respect. Tom looked over his shoulder at the desk in front of his door, but it was empty. Annoyed, he waved Regulus in, closing the door quickly after them.

"Why are you here?"

"I went to check on Harry," Regulus revealed, and Tom nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He had known it. He had asked for it. "I got him to eat some lunch." Tom breathed with relief. It was one of the most difficult things, and if — and when — the house elves were right, Harry barely ate a few berries every day, when one of them threatened to feed him.

"That's… good," he said, but he couldn't force a smile on his face. Regulus's grey eyes were piercing when he looked at Tom, almost like he was searching for something. Tom refined from fidgeting, wrapping his fingers around the arms of his chair.

"But it is not all," Regulus continued finally. Tom sighed, closing his eyes. He was almost sure what he would hear next. "I told him about my husband. He asked a question, and he went into panic after it. I had to give him a Dreamless Sleep." Tom snapped his eyes open. That he hadn't expected.

"You were supposed to keep him calm," he accused, feeling vindictive glee when Regulus scowled. "But that doesn't explain why you are here."

"No, it does not. He knows I'm an omega, by the way, and he guessed it by himself. I didn't give any hints. I don't exactly understand why you wanted to keep quiet about that, but it is done now." Tom didn't know it either, not anymore. He was sure he had had a good reason for it, but he didn't remember it anymore. "But I'm here because Harry needs you."

"I — I can't," Tom blurted out before he could stop himself. He slammed his hand over his mouth, gulping when Regulus levelled him with a glare that could have been scary for someone weaker.

"The only reason you can't be there for him is your own weakness," Regulus told him. And fuck, it hurt. Tom had known it, but he hadn't wanted to acknowledge it. He wanted to blame Harry for driving him away, for keeping them apart.

Maybe Harry could have stayed in their bedroom if Tom had just told him clearly enough that nothing had happened, that he hadn't been hurt.

Maybe Harry would be eating if Tom had stayed home to feed him by himself.

Maybe he hadn't needed his work if they had just talked.

It didn't mean he would admit his mistakes to Regulus, who might have been basically Harry's uncle, Harry's family, but only a healer to Tom. He could wrap up his work and inform the Minister that he'd take up the offer of leave for as long as they needed to get through it together.

"Do you understand? Harry needs you. His omega is messed up because his alpha is away, all the fucking time. As a healer, I order you to stay together for the next two weeks. I will write all the necessary papers so you can have that time away. You have a prisoner in your dungeons; make him pay for the pain. Do not destroy yourself and your relationship over this." Regulus leaned forward, and Tom thought he imagined the flames in his eyes.

"I —" Tom stopped to clear his throat. "I understand." Regulus smiled for that and leaned back.

"Good. I will spend time with you as long as it takes for you to leave. Harry will be awake probably in two hours, and you will be there when he wakes up, preferably having him close to your body," Regulus said, his tone threatening. Tom knew he didn't make idle threats. He also knew there was nothing Regulus could do for real, but he didn't want to take any risks. He had, after all, an excellent curse-breaker on his side. Tom shook himself, glancing at the pile of parchment on his desk.

"Fine. I'll write a letter to the Minister and pack up things and go home," he muttered, annoyed that he had to abandon his plan about proper wrapup. He didn't want to do anything while Regulus was with him, some of the things under secrecy he wasn't ready to break. Regulus hummed, and Tom started the letter.

Dear Madame Bagnold,

I would want to take your offer of leave to get through the grief and crisis. It seems that my husband is worse than I thought, and he needs me through all of this. My personal healer, Healer Black, is ready to fill out the paperwork as long as I need.

Yours sincerely,
Lord Tom Slytherin

He folded the letter and dropped it into the box on his desk. He watched it disappear, the soft shimmer of its departure doing nothing to ease the weight pressing his chest. The silence that followed wasn't peaceful. It was expectant, coiled like a held breath. Regulus stood by the fake window, giving Tom the illusion of privacy, but Tom knew he was being watched. He stood stiffly, shuffling the papers on his desk and packing some of them into his briefcase.

He would go. He would be there when Harry woke, and maybe — just maybe — it would be enough for now. There would be time later to make changes in the wizarding world, to take care of his work. But first, he had to go home. Where Harry was. Where he belonged.

Harry woke up with a familiar hand in his hair. He blinked a few times, trying to remember where he was.

"Tom?" he murmured, his voice raspy. He wanted to burrow into that hand, to feel it on him the rest of his life. His alpha's scent got stronger, and Harry realised their bonds were, for once, open. He could feel the flow of Tom's emotions, of his grief and… fear? "What are you scared of?" he blurted, the filter between his brain and mouth temporarily off. Shaking his head carefully to not dislodge the hand, he opened his eyes fully and looked up. Tom's face was scrunched, his eyes vacant.

"Hmm? Oh, you're awake," Tom said after a pause, looking properly at Harry. "What did you ask?" Harry repeated his question. "Ah, that. Regulus came to kick me out of the office, threatened me to spend time with you instead, but I wasn't sure you'd want that." Harry's heart ached from the admission.

"Love, I missed you," he hissed. His eyes burned, but he didn't want to cry, not anymore. He had done it enough.

"Good. I missed you, too. Will you return to our bedroom?" Harry wanted to laugh, but he was too tired. He nodded, but when Tom made a move, he just relaxed back to bed. "You need to move too."

"Carry me?" Harry asked, reaching out for Tom. He tried to smile when Tom complied, coming to his side of the bed and lifting him to his arms. He pressed his ear against Tom's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"Do you want to just lie in bed the whole day?" Tom asked, his body vibrating under Harry. The slight wave of his steps was comforting, calming.

"Maybe," Harry slurred, close to sleep. "Do you have any other suggestions?"

"Would you be up for some torture?" Tom said, and Harry cracked his eyes open, looking up at Tom's face. His chin was always so nice, but he didn't really notice it often enough. Harry, for the love of Merlin, focus! He listened to his body and realised that he could do something else than lie on the bed for a change. How long had he been there? He wasn't sure. He felt like it was only days, but it could have been even weeks. Maybe torturing someone could really give him some sense of peace or at least an outlet for his emotions.

"Crouch is still alive, isn't he?" He was sure he had left the man alive last time he had tortured him, but he couldn't be sure. What if someone had forgotten to feed him?

"Yes, but are you sure you want to go down there?" Harry frowned, confused why Tom suspected he didn't want — oh, James is there.

"Yes. He is in the farthest corner, I think, so there's no risk of seeing him unless I really want to. If I see him right now, I believe I might not be able to keep him alive. I can't — I can't do that to my Mother," he whispered. He wanted to trust in himself, but his emotions were too wild. Tom rubbed his back, and Harry sighed, smelling Tom's scent with every inhale. He wanted to bathe in that smell, to feel it in every cell of his body so deeply that he couldn't just wash it away.

He wanted to scent Tom so thoroughly. He wanted anyone stepping into their home to know immediately, without a doubt, that Tom was his.

Had they ever been as long without seeing or touching each other? Maybe during the first few summer holidays when they were still in Hogwarts, but not as an adult.

Tom set him down on the bed, and Harry rolled over to his stomach, feeling his cheeks flushing. When he thought about it, he was pretty sure they should first have the torture session, just to get some of the negative pressure out of their systems.

"What is it, darling?" Tom asked, quirking his eyebrows, but Harry just shook his head.

"Nothing. I guess it's best to change our clothes so these don't get dirty in the dungeons. Then we are better to take off there," he lied, knowing very well that Tom could feel the start of want in their bond. He just hoped Tom didn't mistake it for arousal. "Do you know where Barty is?" he asked. He was almost ready to let Tom kill Crouch, but it would be a nice thing to let his son talk with him one last time — if Barty wanted that.

"No, but I can call him in. Our home has been… quiet lately. Draco has visited from time to time, asking after you, but since you have been cooped up in our rooms, I couldn't let him up here. Theodore visited a few times, Blaise too, both of them asking after you. Should I be jealous, my love? Other men asking after you, instead of me? We both went through the same events, after all," Tom said. His tone suggested that he wasn't completely serious, but Harry saw red.

"Do you say you had to carry your dead child in your womb?" he asked coldly, his voice rising louder with every word. His hair stood up from the ends, and he knew his eyes were glowing with fire. It was a surprise he didn't have flames in his hands already, probably the only reason he didn't was him lying in bed.

"What? No, Harry, my love, my dearest, I would never dare to say I went through exactly the same! I know what you went through, and I know I only felt a small piece of the pain — both physical and mental — you were forced to go through," Tom said, lifting his hands in a calming gesture, but Harry couldn't have it. Now that his fury was finally out of its confines, he couldn't push it back there.

"Why did you say that then?" he demanded, but before Tom could answer, he continued, "Maybe they check on me because I went through a trauma! Maybe they think you will survive! You're emotionally much more stilted than I am; you don't need help to handle them. My emotions have been fucking crushing me! I'm barely alive, as it is. You were at work!" He was breathing hard, and he had gotten out of bed at some point during his speech. Tom stood in place opposite him, his face paler than usual, but Harry didn't care about that.

"Harry —"

"Maybe they came to check on me if they knew you kicked me out of our bedroom!" Harry interrupted. He didn't want to hear any excuses, not now that he was finally letting his emotions fly freely.

"I didn't kick you out of our bedroom!" Tom yelled back, and Harry felt satisfaction for that. Tom rarely yelled. He snapped, grumbled, growled and cursed, but never yelled. He had made him lose his control enough to raise his voice. Tom took a breath in and out deeply, his shoulders rising almost to his ears. "I wanted to keep you there, despite being almost hurt during your nightmare," he murmured, and Harry pushed his Occlumency walls quickly up. He didn't want to feel bad, not yet, at least. "When you realised I had a small bleeding wound, that I had cast a Shield, and what kind of havoc our bedroom had become, you wanted to separate by yourself. I tried to beg you to stay here."

Harry didn't remember it, but he could smell the truth in Tom's words. He pushed his embarrassment aside. He had time for it later.

"Oh, well, whatever. But you abandoned your omega, who had just lost a fucking child!" It was the thing that hurt him the most. He couldn't understand how Tom had just gone off to work instead of staying at home with him. They were supposed to be a unit, something that put each other first always. For the first time ever, he had some real doubts about their relationship, about their marriage and mating bond, about their partnership. They had thought they were ready for everything, but this was clearly one of the things they hadn't been ready to face together.

"I — I have no good reasons," Tom choked out, and Harry squinted his eyes until he saw the glistening on his cheeks. Tom was crying. "And I regret it more than anything ever before. I — I wish I had known better, but I can't go back in time and kick my own arse." He was sobbing now, and Harry just wanted to burrow his head into Tom's chest, to keep him close, but he wasn't ready just yet.

"Why?" he hissed. He wanted to know all the reasons, even the bad ones. He wanted to be sure there wasn't anything else between them.

"I couldn't stand your grief. I knew I'd go to take care of James by myself if I had to feel them all the time. I couldn't have done that to you."

Harry crumbled. He had waited for something else, something colder and more selfish, but the basis of Tom's actions was on Harry. He didn't want to hurt Harry more by acting on his own.

Harry didn't know how he ended up in Tom's arms and how they fell to the bed in one pile, Tom's tears wetting Harry's shirt, and Harry rubbing Tom's back while he was crying too.

"I'm so fucking sorry," Tom sobbed, and Harry tried to say something, but he could get only a small whine from his mouth. He knew Tom was sorry; he could feel it between them. He could feel it as a pain in the back corner of his soul, and it wasn't comfortable.

"Me too," Harry said, recalling all of his words. "I didn't really… Or no, I did mean a lot of them, but I should've said them more kindly than I did," he murmured. He started to like the idea of skipping the torture and moving to the scenting. He wanted to be able to smell himself on his alpha.

It was like Tom sensed his thoughts and feelings — of course, he did, that bastard — because he lifted his head and dried his tears.

"A kiss?" he asked, and Harry… he couldn't do other than laugh when he pulled Tom up and claimed his lips to the first kiss in Merlin knows how long. It had to be forever. It felt like forever.

Harry gasped when Tom bit his lip, opening his mouth gladly. It was so good to be kissing again, better than anything else. When Tom pulled back, Harry stopped him from moving with his hands.

"I — I don't want to have sex," he murmured when Tom looked at him questioningly. "I want to just smell you, scent you. I just — I can't —" he couldn't end his sentence, but Tom copped his cheek like he understood.

"Don't worry. I don't want to do anything you're not ready yet, my darling. I love you. We've both gone through a lot, we need something more akin to a comfort than anything else," Tom told him, and Harry almost sobbed when relief washed over him. "I love you," Tom hissed softly, and Harry pulled him back down to the kiss. He wanted to get Tom inside his ribcage, just below his heart. He wanted to carry Tom around every day, everywhere.

"No more closing down our bonds?" Harry said. He had wanted it to be a request, maybe even a demand, but it was definitely a question.

"I can try," Tom promised, but it was more than Harry had gotten from him before when he had talked about it. Harry kissed him again, and it was healing. It felt like something filled him, healing him from the inside out. He wanted to have more of that. Had they wounded their souls by being separated? He didn't believe it, but there was clearly something weird happening.

Harry rolled them over, and Tom laughed breathlessly when Harry sat up, his legs on both sides of his hips. Tom's hands stilled him with a tight hold on his hips.

"I am hard, but do not feel obligated to do anything for it," he told, and Harry nodded. He knew that, but it was good to hear. He sat properly down, and flushed, when he felt Tom's erection against his croch, but he ignored it. He had made up his mind, and he wouldn't change it. He pressed his face against Tom's neck, scenting him as good as he could.

"Oh, how I've missed this," Tom gasped when Harry ripped his shirt open to continue his scenting. Harry stopped to flick his tongue against Tom's nipple, smiling against his bare skin when he shuddered. He knew he was teasing, and it would kick back to him one day, but he couldn't resist the temptation.

"No, stay down," he growled when Tom tried to prop on his elbows. Tom just smiled softly, leaning back down, and Harry vanished his shirt without a thought, continuing his scenting on his arms.

He loved Tom's fingers especially. They were long and slim, and his nails were groomed all the time. They were just perfect for anything Tom set out to do. He rubbed his chin against them, stopping to smell them sometimes. The hands were always visible, so he had to be sure.

"Fucking tease," Tom murmured when Harry slid two of Tom's fingers to his mouth. They curled against his tongue perfectly, scratching it slightly before Harry could wrap his tongue around them properly and suck. The look on Tom's face was priceless: he was staring at him with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open.

Harry continued the ministrations to every finger, making sure they were wet from his saliva before continuing. He knew it was almost torturous to Tom, his erections straining against his front, but his alpha seemed content without attention on it.

When Harry got up, planning to move lower so he could take care of Tom's legs, his alpha wrapped his hands around Harry and rolled them over.

"No more. We've had a lot today. Let's just cuddle," Tom murmured, kissing Harry's temple before pulling Harry against his side. Harry laid his head over Tom's heart, closing his eyes. He was… surprised how the day turned out in the end. He had been… so sure this would be the end of them.

Maybe everything will sort out in the end. It will not cure the ache and grief, nor make me forget our princess, but we are stronger together.

Chapter Text

10 | With you, I am whole

∞

Thursday, 7 July 1983 — 11:00 a.m.
Ballroom Corridor, East Wing, Slytherin Castle
Aberdeenshire, Scotland, United Kingdom

∞

Tom wasn't the type of person who was nervous, but now that he was standing in front of the door of his temporary bedroom, his clothes and hair perfect, he could feel nothing but that. He pried his teeth away from his bottom lip again, not wanting its swell to ruin the pictures.

His wand vibrated in his holster, telling him that it was time. Why had they decided to sleep the last night on opposite sides of the Castle, blocking their connection? It wasn't like the marriage was that important to them after being mated for years. It was only to help them with legalities, like Harry's official title in the front of the wizarding world. They could have just gotten married in the Ministry without any witnesses.

"You wanted to have a wedding to make it a huge event," he murmured to himself when he walked down the long corridor. He had to remember that. Their wedding would be a public spectacle, something to start the new era of the Slytherin family — something they had kept secret even from Harry's mother.

He could already imagine the titles in the papers tomorrow.

The stairs down, and one of Tom's ancestors — one who didn't look at them like dirt for them both being half-bloods — bid him congratulations with a wink. Tom almost wanted to stop and demand to know more, but this had been one of Harry's few wishes for the day. He didn't want to spoil it.

Getting to his destination, Tom clasped his hands behind his back, keeping his chin high. There was a curtain in the middle of the hall, and Lily was standing on Tom's side of it. He knew that Astoria Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were on the other side, either keeping company for Harry or waiting for him. Tom walked slowly closer and glanced at the photographer, who struggled with her camera on the side.

"How do you feel?" Lily whispered, smiling softly at him. Tom almost rolled his eyes. She had seen him only fifteen minutes earlier before she had left his room, where she had been helping him to get ready.

"Good," he said, looking intently at the curtain. He tried to imagine what Harry was wearing. He only knew that their colours matched each other, from how Blaise had been shopping for their clothes with both of them, but nothing else.

"We are ready," Lily announced, and Tom could hear some whispers behind the curtain. He felt the soul bond pulsing with how close to each other they were, but he didn't feel anything else from Harry.

"Mr Potter and Mr Riddle, close your eyes!" Astoria called out, and Tom sighed, following the order. He didn't want to guess what Lily thought about the formalities Tom required from everyone in their presence.

The wind blew through the corridor, and the curtain disappeared. Tom hesitated for a second before opening his eyes.

Harry was a sight. Tom drank him in like a thirsty man, but every small detail was lost next to Harry's face and hair. Tom stepped forward, letting his eyes roam Harry's body up and down.

Harry was wearing Slytherin colours, and they fit. He had robes, or more like a gown, with long, flowing sleeves. It came together right between Harry's collarbones like a pendant, opening down and showing the dark green trousers and white vest full of embroidery. But the thing that really pulled Tom in was the tiara on top of Harry's hair. He had thought he borrowed it for Astoria's and Draco's portrait, but the former truly showed some cunning with how she had planned it.

And the tiara was perfect. Somehow, it highlighted Harry's petite build, made him look like a prince. And all of him is mine. He wanted to devour Harry and with the way he was looking at Tom, the feeling was mutual.

"You look perfect, my love," he hissed, not wanting to share his first words with the audience. Harry's cheeks darkened, but his smile didn't waver.

"As do you, too, my soul," Harry answered. Tom's heart was beating fast, almost like it was trying to get out of his chest.

"Shall we open our connection?" Tom asked, craving to know exactly how Harry was feeling. The answer came with the way Harry's emotions filled Tom's whole body, warming him from head to toes. Tom walked closer, his steps measured. He smirked when Harry flushed further, biting his bottom lip. He was so incredibly beautiful, looking at him from under his lashes like that. "Spin for me, my darling," he murmured, eyeing greedily Harry's body. Harry complied, and Tom gasped when he saw the bare back. "You alluring, impossible omega," he hissed, finally grabbing Harry's hands and pulling him closer.

"I knew you would like it," Harry admitted, fluttering his eyes. Tom growled so low that he hoped others didn't hear it. He lifted Harry's other hand to his lips, keeping their eye contact steady as he kissed the back of it.

Tom pulled Harry against him, pressing his other hand against Harry's back — bare part of it — and leaning down, claiming Harry's lips. He tried to convey everything he was feeling through the kiss while pushing even more through their bonds.

"You will turn everyone's head tonight, love. They won't even notice me when you are next to me," he whispered against Harry's mouth. To his surprise, he didn't mind. Let the world look at Harry — as long as he got to call him husband by the end of the day.

∞

Thursday, 7 July 1983 — 2:00 p.m.
The Sunward Clearing, Southern Grounds, Slytherin Castle
Aberdeenshire, Scotland, United Kingdom

∞

Harry wanted to pace in front of the closed doors, but Tom's steady presence next to him kept him in place. He wanted to turn around and look at him, but he knew that once he would finally allow it for himself again, he wouldn't be able to rip his eyes away from the man. Tom looked so perfect, handsome, his colours the opposite of Harry's clothes. Harry could still feel the flush returning back to his face when he thought about how Tom had looked at him during their first looks, something he was now eternally thankful he had wanted them.

Honestly, he couldn't wait to get the pictures from the photographer. It was easy to imagine one sitting on Tom's desk in the Ministry, catching his eye every so often. Maybe distracting him from work at times…

"You're thinking loudly," Tom chuckled, and Harry finally gave in and turned to look at him. It wasn't like Tom hadn't been able to rip his eyes away for hours. They had even changed the way the ceremony would start at the last minute, just to be able to spend the time together instead of Tom on the other side of the door.

"You — Merlin, I would give anything if we just skipped the whole day," Harry murmured, licking his lips when he imagined it. He looked back up and saw the flash of red — no, not full red, not yet — behind the glamour. He dropped his own, just for a moment, before they would need to hide their eyes for the rest of the day from the public.

"Tempting, but we have the guests to entertain," Tom responded, his tone full of regret. "Show me your back one more time," he demanded then, and Harry turned. He knew. He adored his back the most, the oval-shaped gap in the middle of his back starting close to the collar and ending in the middle, showing the sides of his shoulder blades and skin. The colour was just perfect, making his skin look golden like it was from another world.

Tom's fingers brushed against his skin, carefully like fearing it wasn't true, but it was. It wasn't just an illusion, making it look like there was a hole. Harry didn't know what the tailor had done with it, but it was seamless, despite the layers he was wearing. He made a mental note to thank Blaise for taking him to Italy to see Mr Filatori.

A knock on the door jolted them out of their bubble, and Harry cast quickly his glamour back before turning back to Tom, accepting his hand.

"Are you ready?" Tom asked, and Harry swallowed. He didn't want to imagine how many people were behind the door, wanting to witness the beginning of their marriage bond.

"As much as I can," he murmured. Tom leaned down to kiss him quickly before straightening and pulling him towards the door. The knock came again, a little more insistent this time, and the music on the other side had changed — swelling in a quiet, wordless signal they had agreed on.

Harry squeezed Tom's hand.

This was it.

The doors opened slowly, the light of the sun spilling through the gap. Tom tugged Harry's hand, like saying let's go, before they stepped out together into the light wind.

It was afternoon, and the sun hit in right angle to the side of the Castle, making the hill swim in gold light. Below them, the lake shimmered at the bottom of the hill, still and impossibly vast.

Ahead, the guests were gathered in neat rows of conjured stone benches, their backs to the castle. A natural aisle had been carved by footfalls and wandwork in the past centuries. It was lined faintly with floating lights and silver ivy.

At the end of the aisle was a clearing, open to the sky and wind, to the cliff underneath and the generations of magic that had watched over this place.

Harry let his eyes travel from side to side, noticing familiar faces here and there. His Mother was sitting in the front row with Draco and Astoria, but the few empty places next to her were a painful reminder that James, Remus and Sirius were missing. He swallowed, focusing on the clearing, where the officiant was waiting for them in the dark blue robes of the Ministry of Magic.

Tom radiated calmness next to him, and Harry gripped him tighter, making his best to push the uncomfortable emotions away. Their walk was slow, and Harry breathed in and out, falling deeper into the bonds they already shared. They stopped in front of the officiant, and Harry was almost surprised when he started speaking.

"In the eyes of magic and those gathered here, we witness the forging of a bond — not only of hearts or lives, but of magic, spirit and will. The marriage is an old rite, one that predates the Ministry, predates the spoken law. It is a bond made not by decree, but by choice, and sustained only through the same choice, made again each day.

"It is not a light vow, nor one taken in haste. For this joining, your magics entwine. Your futures are written into each other. Your strength becomes shared, your burdens halved, your lives inseparable."

He paused and looked between them.

"If either heart holds doubt, it must be spoken now before the binding begins." Harry glanced at Tom while only wind and the faint rustle of leaves broke the silence. "Then step forward together and offer your hands."

Harry and Tom moved as one, turning to face each other and joining their left hands. The officiant showed them a length of silk, silver-threaded and enchanted with soft green runes that pulsed like breath. With care, he began to wrap it around their joined hands — one loop, then another — until their hands were bound palm to palm, the fabric resting cool and alive against their skin. The magic rose around them, and the air shimmered faintly, as though the land itself was listening.

"Speak now your promises," the officiant said. Harry swallowed, knowing that he would be the first to do it. He was nervous, sure that he would forget something important. He lifted his eyes to Tom's, and it almost took his breath away.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, there are so many things I would have wanted to say, but there is not an amount of time that would be enough for that," he started, stopping to clear his throat. "You have been with me always, from the moment we sat down in the train. You were there every moment, helping me, supporting me, protecting me. Loving me. With me. Never flinching, never turning away. You have seen me at my worst, and you are still here. I don't know what kind of future we will build together, but I know it will be good. I know it because we are stronger together.

"And I choose you. Every day. Every version of you, every version of us. I vow to be by your side every moment. Fight with you. Laugh with you. To listen when it's hard, to speak when I would rather hide and to love you — even when the world feels too heavy. Because without you, there is no me. You are my heart and soul, my body and mind. With you, I am whole."

When Harry finished, he gasped, his mouth dry. The bond between him and Tom pulsed with something Harry wasn't sure Tom had felt ever before, something akin to touched affection, something really vulnerable. Tom brushed his thumb over Harry's knuckles slowly. When he looked at Harry, he didn't smile, but his eyes, Merlin, held everything. Harry braced himself, knowing that Tom would say his own vow next.

"Harry James Potter," Tom started, and even the way he spoke his name made something twist in Harry's chest. Like it was sacred, like it was the only thing that mattered. "You were meant to be mine. Not by fate or prophecy, no. I have chosen you, again and again, in every world, in every war, in every breath I take beside you." His voice was low and calm, but each word landed like stone — firm and irrevocable.

"You taught me love by showing me your pain. You taught me strength by never giving up. You taught me peace by letting me stand beside you, even when I didn't deserve it." Harry swallowed hard, feeling the burn behind his eyes. "You are not a weakness I once thought. You are not a risk. You are not a temptation to overcome." His voice dropped slightly. "You are my bond, my other half, my equal." Harry's breath caught, sharp and helpless, because even though Tom had said the same things before, never like this.

"I vow to protect you, to build with you, to carry your name in my soul and your scent in my skin. To lead beside you, to stand before you when needed, and to never turn away, no matter the fire or the silence or the dark." There was a flicker in Tom's eyes — not tears, not quite, but something. A glint of something Harry had only ever seen in the quietest moments.

"We are stronger together, and I would tear the world apart to keep it that way."

Harry gasped, feeling the tears on his cheeks. His chest was full of warmth. He was so happy that he was sure he would float without Tom's hands on his. Tom's lips turned upwards to a small, private smile.

I love you, he whispered through the soul bond, and Harry had to exhale deeply to not sob aloud. He was surprised when he noticed the officiant moving in the corner of his eye before the silk around their hands glowed softly, the runes pulsing brighter with each heartbeat. The magic thrummed between them, warm and deep, like the vibration of ancient strings.

"With words freely spoken, intent openly shared and agic willing, the bond nears its sealing," he said, raising his wand. His voice carried without force, like the magic itself was amplifying him. He turned his gaze first to Harry, then to Tom. "Do you enter this bond freely, with full heart and full will, full understanding of what it demands?"

"I do," Harry said, his voice steadier than he would have thought.

"I do," Tom followed without hesitation.

The silk flared suddenly. It wasn't blinding, but bright enough to make the floating lights flicker and the guests lean forward. It sank into their skin like water, leaving behind only warmth where it had touched. The shimmer in the air around them stilled, settling like a cloak over their shoulders.

"Then let the bond be sealed." The officiant lowered his wand, and the final pulse of magic passed through the clearing. He smiled then. "You may kiss if you wish."

Harry let out a breath that cracked with emotion, and Tom was already leaning in, his hand coming to cradle Harry's nape. The kiss wasn't hungry like before, in the corridor, but it was grounding. Tom's fingers pressed gently into Harry's skin like a promise, a claim. Harry pushed forward, his free hand curling in Tom's robes when his eyes slipped closed.

When they broke apart, it wasn't to the cheers — not exactly. It was to a wave of warm sound, polite but genuine, touched with something Harry didn't know how to name. The officiant stepped back, and they turned slowly, still hand in hand, to face the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the officiant announced, his voice ringing clear through the air, "may I present to you: Lord Tom Marvolo Slytherin and Lord-Consort Harry James Slytherin." That was when the sound truly rose.

And that was also when it hit Harry in full. That they had done it. That they were married, one more bond connecting them to each other. Now, even in front of the public, they were them, not just Lord Slytherin and Heir Potter. Finally, Harry was the Lord-Consort, the title falling into him naturally, like it had always belonged to him.

"Ready to greet half the wizarding world?" Tom murmured beside him, leaning just close enough.

"Not even a little," Harry whispered back, attempting a smile as cameras flashed and the selected journalists leaned forward, quills already moving. Tom pulled him gently into motion, and together they walked down the aisle.

Harry's eyes flickered toward his Mother. Lily's eyes were glassy with emotion, one hand over her mouth. Draco gave them a sharp nod, eyes suspiciously damp, and Astoria had her hand tucked discreetly into his arm. When they reached the steps leading to the back door of the Castle, Blaise was waiting, holding a chilled bottle of champagne.

Harry knew Draco would take care of the guests. The castle was properly warded; no one would stray where they weren't meant to be. The reception would follow — toasts and politics, food and obligation, and a dance or two under enchanted lights. But for now, as they stepped inside where the cool air of the foyer wrapped around them like a balm, Harry let himself pause.

Let himself feel it; the quiet joy, the certainty, the warmth of magic between them. Tom squeezed his hand.

"You are mine now," he whispered. Harry turned to him, sliding a hand up along Tom's chest to his shoulder.

"Wasn't I always?" he asked, remembering the first time Tom had called him his when they had been only twelve. The memory was clear as day, and he couldn't help but giggle. Only if they had known ten years earlier where they would be now…

Tom didn't answer, only smiled at him, his eyebrow quirked up for a silent question. Harry shook his head, letting a wide grin take over his face when he leaned closer. The music started somewhere, muffled through the thick walls, but he didn't care about it.

He was here, with Tom, feeling whole. He was exactly where he was meant to be.

∞

Friday, 8 July 1983 — 10:00 a.m.
Ch âteau du Cygne Blanc, Malfoy Family Estate
Provence-Alpes-C ôte d’Azur, France

∞

Tom woke up slowly, feeling the pleasant bliss of the previous day under his skin. Harry was still sleeping, the air hitting his neck on every exhale. Tom couldn't believe it was true. That, finally, after two and a half years of planning, they were married. It had been a longer engagement than purebloods usually accepted, one that had aroused a lot of questions about the state of their relationship, but Tom hadn't wanted to rush it. He had wanted to make the day perfect, something they would still reminisce about a few centuries later.

He was pretty sure they had been successful.

Turning to his side and dislodging Harry's head from his shoulder in the process, he looked at Harry's face. Really looked at it. Of course, he knew Harry inside and out better than himself, every hair and small imperfection, loving him all the way more. Tom moved his hand to Harry's cheek, caressing it carefully so he wouldn't wake Harry up. The stirring in his stomach brought an idea, something they rarely were able to do, but they now had the time, as much as they wanted.

Tom noted down to thank Draco for his thoughtful wedding gift. He wouldn't admit even to Harry that he was all for going back to work after the weekend, only the gifted holiday stopping him as they were sent to their honeymoon the previous evening after most of the guests had left.

He trailed his finger lower, following Harry's chin and the line of his neck, keeping the touch light so Harry wouldn't stir. His cock hardened more, and the scent of arousal filled the room. It was heady, the way Harry's body responded to him even when asleep, knowing exactly what he was craving.

Harry's light sleeping gown had slipped from his shoulder, showing part of his chest, his nipple peaking under it like a tease. Tom wanted to go down, to lick and pinch the small bud until it hardened under his ministrations, but he didn't dare to do it, lest to spoil his plan for the morning.

Prying the sheet away, Tom eased Harry to his back slowly. He freed his arm under Harry's head and untied the gown, parting it to reveal Harry's smooth skin. His mouth watered from only thinking about what he was going to do, precum leaking into his pants when he imagined how it would feel to sink into the pliant body, the muscles around him relaxed and so warm they almost bordered hot, the slick helping him to move without difficulty.

Tom slid his hand lower, teasing the nipples for a moment before continuing. Harry's breath hitched when Tom reached his navel, and he had to glance at Harry's face to make sure he was still asleep. It was almost ridiculous how he wanted to get in Harry before he woke up, just to feel how the muscles tensed upon realising something was in him; something that wasn't supposed to be. He wanted to see exactly when Harry realised it was Tom's cock, how his eyes blinked open slowly, how his mouth would curve to a loving smile before he sighed and relaxed back into bed, letting Tom do whatever he wanted to.

Harry's pants disappeared with a flick, and the scent of Harry's slick rose to new heights. Tom salivated, wanting to get there sooner rather than later, but he controlled himself, slowing his hand even more. Harry's cute omega dick stood proudly, flushed and the tip shining from the arousal. Tom brushed his finger against it, swiping the slick away and looking at how the dick jerked under the touch. Harry's breathing turned faster, but he didn't show any signs of waking up.

Tom wrapped his other hand around his own cock, hoping to help the aching need pulsing in him. He had been half-hard since he had seen Harry for the first time yesterday, from the moment he had realised half of Harry's back was bare. The wait had been torturous, like someone had denied food from the starving man but still kept the plates full, right under his nose. But like everyone had warned them, the wedding day was surprisingly tiring, and sex had been the last thing they had wanted last night upon arrival.

But now. Tom had slept a solid eight hours, and his body thrummed with energy. He couldn't ignore his want anymore, and despite wanting to punish Harry for teasing him so much during the reception, he wanted to satisfy both of them first. They had, after all, three full weeks alone in the middle of the private estate where the house elves took care of the vineyard.

Tom rolled out of bed and went to the end of it, smirking at the way Harry's legs had spread on their own, like knowing how he wanted them. Wrapping his fingers lightly around the ankles and prying the thighs even more open, he lowered onto his knees between Harry's legs, drinking in the sight of him. His white gown was almost sinful, looking like something a virginal bride would wear for the wedding night. Tom couldn't wait to see his cum leaking out of Harry to the silk, destroying it with the stains that wouldn't be easy to clean even with magic.

The slick glistened between Harry's legs, his hole visible, and Tom stared at it in fascination. He crawled closer, inhaling deeply when he got closer to the source of the scent that made him want to possess his omega — his husband.

He stopped so close that the tip of his cock almost brushed against the hole. Keeping his touch still a feather light, he brushed Harry's hips before braving his hand closer to his crotch, teasing the rim of his hole with his finger. He knew from experience how easily his omega let him in and didn't hesitate to brace himself on his elbows and press in.

It was too good, and Tom couldn't stop the groan escaping him, coming somewhere deep and low. He froze, gazing at Harry's face, but his omega didn't stir. The muscles around his cock yielded, opening up like never before, and he had to strain his control not to sink in with one, quick press. His heart was pounding fast behind his ribcage, the arousal heavy in his mind, and Harry was still asleep.

When his whole length was buried in his omega, Tom leaned down to nuzzle Harry's shoulder, close to the mating gland that was pulsing underneath his skin. He mouthed the curve between the neck and the shoulder, careful with his teeth while they throbbed, wanting to tease the gland before biting down and breaking the skin.

Tom eased out slowly, biting his lip when his omega's insides tried to grip his cock like wanting to keep him in. He closed his eyes, listening to how Harry's breath hitched. Lifting himself up and looking down at Harry's face, he noticed the telltale signs of waking up: the fluttering of eyelids, a small pout forming on his lips, the brows furrowing.

Tom snapped his hips down faster, drawing a gasp from Harry. Harry's hole fluttered around him, almost milking him. Tom stared, drinking in every detail as Harry's eyes opened slowly, unfocused for a few seconds before the attention snapped on him. The bonds bloomed awake from the previous lull of unconsciousness.

"A-alpha," Harry moaned, his voice raspy. Tom growled, pressing his lips to Harry's. His omega didn't respond fully, still in the middle of the process to understand what was happening, only his omega part of the brain already active. Tom nipped Harry's bottom lip, feeling content to take care of his omega, to take care of everything and let his omega just lie and take everything.

"Omega," Tom hissed, setting a steady pace. He moaned when Harry tightened around him. Groaning, he gathered Harry into his arms, pressing their chests together and burying his face in Harry's hair. His omega's scent intensified, together with his movements. The arms wrapped around Tom, keeping him close.

It was perfect. Tom's heart swelled with everything he felt for his omega. He wanted to keep him close, under him the rest of their lives. He would die happy if he died right then and there, not regretting anything.

The rush of blood made Tom's body tingle, his muscles tightening with every thrust. His omega opened for him so perfectly, so willingly, the bonds between them blazing like gold behind his eyes. He quickened his pace, hips snapping harder as he pressed deep, grounding himself into the feel, the scent, the rightness of it all. He praised his omega with wordless sounds — growls, soft croons, low purrs that vibrated between them.

Harry clung to him, fully awake, legs wrapped around his waist, mouth open with gasps.

"Tom," Harry breathed, his voice thick with unfiltered want. "Tom, I —"

"I know," Tom murmured, grazing his teeth against Harry's neck. "I've got you." His omega spasmed around his cock, his whole body convulsing, the stickiness spreading between their stomachs. Tom followed seconds later, spilling deep inside his omega and growling Harry's name into his shoulder. His heart pounded as he tightened his arms around Harry, wanting to keep them in that moment forever.

They didn't speak while they calmed their breathing. Tom felt Harry's heartbeat against his chest, still too fast, but slowing down. Tom relaxed his hold, still buried inside his omega, unwilling to leave just yet. Harry hummed, nuzzling into the crook of Tom's neck.

"Good morning," Harry murmured, his voice rough. Tom heard the smile in it and chuckled softly.

"A bit better than usual, I hope," he said, and Harry mumbled something unintelligible. They listened to the birds singing outside, the sound floating in through the crack of open window. The vineyard had come alive under the morning sun, and the air smelled of lavender and honeysuckle, warm and sweet.

Tom finally eased out, a shiver running down his spine as he felt his cum and Harry's slick trickle out. He flopped to his side and looked at Harry.

Harry — flushed, sated and glowing — looked like something sacred. His dark hair spilled across the pillow like a halo, and the white silk gown still clung to his skin, rumpled and stained. Tom pressed a kiss to Harry's temple before slinging his arm and leg over Harry, pulling him close. His body wrapped around the only thing that had ever made sense.

And now, this too was woven into them — not a beginning, not an ending, just another thread in the endless tapestry they had already begun to weave, years ago.

∞

Chapter Text

11 | Welcome to the War

◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈

"Are you sure you are ready for this?" Tom asked again, and Harry groaned. He was annoyed by the constant checks. The trauma would never heal; it would never be easy to see James, but he had to. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like if he didn't try to hear his side of the story.

"I'm sure. Stop asking," he muttered and rolled his eyes, reaching for his wand for a familiar warmth, only then remembering that Tom had taken it away so he wouldn't accidentally kill James before he was ready to do it. And yes, Tom had definitely left his wand upstairs too, so Harry couldn't even steal his.

"Remember that we have to keep him alive, even if only for your Mother," Tom reminded, and Harry shot him a look of annoyance. Like he didn't know it! "I'm sorry, my love, I just want to make sure that everything goes as planned," he murmured, wrapping his arm around Harry's middle and pulling him to his chest. Harry sighed, letting himself relax against the firm muscles.

"I know. I'm sorry. I… guess that I'm nervous. Could we just go?" he said, a start of embarrassing whine already heard in his voice. Tom didn't answer, instead scenting his neck before licking a long stripe over Harry's mating gland. Harry shivered, a new wave of calmness washing over him with his alpha's relaxing scent.

"Yes. Let's go, so we can get over it sooner rather than later. We can't respond to your Mother's calls before we know everything." Tom was right as always. Harry had hated keeping his mother in the dark for a few weeks already, but he couldn't trust anyone, not after what had happened. They hadn't organised any Knights meeting either because Harry hadn't been able to stand anyone in the whole Castle. He went rigid even when Draco came to check on them, and he was one of his best friends.

Tom opened the door to the first cellar level, leading Harry through the dark corridors. The first level wasn't that bad, with the main kitchen and servants' living quarters. The second cellar level wasn't much worse. Harry shuddered when they stepped onto the stairs to the dungeons, the air turning damp and stifling.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked, his voice low. He had stopped and turned to look at Harry, concern shining from his eyes.

"Yeah. Trust me, I will tell you if I'm not," Harry whispered, his gaze zeroing in on the bottom of the stairs. For some reason, he felt nauseous at the thought of the torture and interrogation chambers, but he knew that if James didn't start talking, he would be taken there. Harry wished he could be the one to do the interrogation, but Tom had been scared of what he would do and agreed with Draco that he would come to do it — supervised by Harry and Tom.

"Will we show our eyes or not?" Tom murmured, and Harry stopped in his tracks. He hadn't thought about it beforehand, but now that he did, it made sense not to hide them anymore. James wouldn't leave the Castle, never. It didn't matter if he knew. It would be just more… fun — if Harry dared to go that far — to show him that they were worse than Dumbledore had thought.

"Yes. No hiding anymore," Harry told him, meaning his words. If he got his way, he would never want to hide it again. Maybe it would have protected him better if —

"Don't," Tom told him, his hands coming to cradle Harry's face. "Don't think about ifs and buts. We are here now, and we can't know for sure." Harry swallowed before nodding. Tom was right.

The door to the prison section of the dungeons opened with a clang, and Harry heard a few people begging for mercy, for death. He wasn't interested in them, although his wand hand twitched, wanting to curse anyone on sight. Tom took his hand, holding it so tight it almost hurt, but Harry didn't care about it. It was grounding more than anything else. He gripped Tom's hand just as tightly.

The cells were cold and damp rooms, so small that it was possible to reach every wall when standing straight and spreading arms. James's cell was the last one, and Harry shivered when the magic-dampening wards brushed his core when he walked past the doors. He stopped at the last one and looked in.

James sat on the floor, curled into a tight ball. Harry felt… oddly empty. He had expected rage. He had expected to shake from the memory of the curse, pain and loss. But instead, there was nothing. Just a blank slate, a windless void. Even hate would have been something.

"Are you blocking me?" Tom hissed, and Harry shook his head before he even thought about the answer. He ran his hand through his hair — for once keeping them open. He sensed doubt from Tom's end of their bond.

"Really, I don't feel anything," he murmured, his eyes fastened to the man who had moved slightly.

"Are you here to kill me?" James asked, his voice hoarse after the disuse and the lack of a sufficient amount of water. Something flickered behind his eyes, but Harry didn't trust himself to identify it. It could have been fear or disgust, but it could have been love or pride, too.

"No," Tom growled, stepping forward, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"What then?" James demanded. Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, building some kind of control over himself. James was still stubborn. He didn't clearly understand when to give up.

"To get some information," Tom answered, when it became clear that Harry still wasn't saying anything.

"Can't my son talk for himself?" A mocking chuckle followed him, and it snapped something in Harry's mind. The fury flooded him, making him see red. James's eyes widened. "For a son of a bitch," he whispered, something else filling his voice. He is scared of me, Harry thought, smiling almost viciously, though he was confused about the reaction.

"Your eyes glow red, my darling," Tom explained.

"You — you can't be my son. My son is not a dark lord."

"Isn't he? How sure are you? Doesn't Dumbledore think that we are, indeed, getting there?" Harry asked, colder than he had intended. He crouched down to get to the same eye level as James. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I do not have a father, and through your disappearance, I will gain the Potter seat in the Wizengamot. Nothing will be on my way anymore." Not that he was going to use the seat by himself, the omegas mostly looked down in the Wizengamot. No, Tom would get to control it, to get more power. Their win would be closer and closer.

"I — please, Harry. Don't do this. This isn't you," James said, changing to begging, and Harry lifted his eyebrows. It was curious how someone could do a complete turn in another direction under stress.

"No. You will see one day that this is very much me, has always been," he murmured, brushing the bars like they were something to caress.

"You will lose," James spat out, turning again, and Harry almost laughed.

"Oh, no, my dear father. We have never lost and never will lose. We will win and you will watch as we burn your world to ashes," he said. He felt almost detached from himself, and when their eyes connected, he was almost tempted to use Legilimency.

But he couldn't. Not at the moment. He wasn't stable enough, and his magic could react violently. It was like a compulsion how much he wanted to hurt the man in front of him, but he retained, standing up and retreating behind Tom.

"Get the truth out of him," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. He watched Tom taking his previous place and casting a wandless Imperio on James, forcing him to meet his eyes. The silence fell around them, hiding the whimpers of other prisoners while Harry waited. He tapped his foot to the ground, impatient to hear anything while still fearing that his mother had something to do with the attack. He wouldn't be able to take it, his heart crushing even from the thought alone.

The time slowed down, and Harry started to imagine everything he could do to the man as soon as he knew if he had to keep him well enough for Lily. He imagined all the tools in the torture chamber, everything he could use while making sure that James's biggest dream would be death, but never achieving it. Maybe he could force all the possible vows on him and let him roam the Castle almost free, making him a slave to their whims and amusement for their meetings. Maybe he could —

"Lily had nothing to do with it," Tom said, interrupting the line of thought, and Harry flashed a quick smile.

"Of course, she wouldn't, you idiot!" James snarled, a trickle of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. "She would probably be your servant more than hurt you." The words were full of bitterness, but Harry ignored them. The relief was so much.

"Black and Dumbledore were also on it, but apparently no one else," Tom added, sliding to Harry's side, his hand coming to his hip like a warm anchor.

"Dumbledore was already on our kill list, but…" Harry trailed off, thinking of Remus.

"I know. We will figure it out." Harry trusted Tom's words on that, leaning his head on his shoulder. Harry closed his eyes, letting Tom's scent fill his lungs. The cold air pressed against his skin. "Let's go. We can come back on a later date," Tom murmured when Harry shivered against him.

The door to the prison section groaned closed behind them, swallowing the whimpers. Harry walked without speaking, trying to warm his insides. He wasn't sure it was something he could fill because it was from the emptiness inside him. He had always — albeit foolishly — hoped that James would change his mind, would see his ways one day, but it was now over. He would never do that voluntarily, and it was something Harry had to accept.

"You did well," Tom said softly, guiding him through the corridors with a hand on his lower back.

"I didn't do anything," Harry muttered, keeping his eyes on the ground when they got to the stairs.

"Exactly. You didn't lose control." Harry glanced at him and sighed.

"I wanted to," he admitted. He was so tired. He was so tired of making sure he was in control, that he wasn't led by his emotions like a foolish omega, proving the point that everyone tried to make. He had to be always strong, always in control, so no one would be able to use his secondary gender against him. "More than ever before, and that's what scares me the most."

"That's why I'm here," Tom said, stopping him with a touch. "To hold you when you want to burn the world." Harry leaned into him, seeking comfort but also to remember he was still human.

Lily paced around the sitting room, glancing at the clock as if it might give her answers. She had sent another letter to James that morning — her fifth since the attack — and still nothing. There was no reply or trace. It wasn't like him to disappear, but then again, she wasn't sure she knew what like him meant anymore.

The Prophet was having a field day, practically convicting James in the headlines. And while Lily wanted to scream at the injustice, a gnawing certainty was beginning to take root in her chest. She had known he was angry, maybe even furious about the pregnancy, but to attack their son in broad daylight… The thought was unbearable.

The aurors had stormed the Manor the day it happened. They did it again the next day, day after that, continuing their surprise visit almost every day. Their questions were invasive while they searched the manor from floor to ceiling, but there were no signs of James. They said James had fled, but they didn't know where.

But the worst thing was that the victim was their own son. Lily didn't know what had happened, even if Harry was fine, and all of her attempts to get hold of someone in Slytherin Manor had been futile. She had visited even the Malfoy Manor, had talked to both Mr and Mrs Malfoy, the former looking shaken, but both of them tight-lipped about the events. They just said that Harry would contact Lily as soon as he was feeling well enough. And it had been days already!

Gathering her frustration, she threw floo powder into the fire and flooed to Hogwarts, hoping to get hold of Albus if nothing else. She stumbled out of the fireplace and saw Albus sitting behind his desk, like nothing was wrong. Lily saw red. She couldn't understand why the headmaster would be so calm after an attack against her son, her husband disappearing right after it.

"Lily, welcome," Albus greeted him. Lily looked at him closely and noticed that the usual twinkling in his eyes was gone, so something was troubling him.

"Thank you. Do you happen to know where James is?" she demanded, without spearing any platitudes. She was sure she had a right to be shaken and emotional.

"I —" Albus started, but Lily saw through him. She coughed, interrupting him. "No, I don't. I have my… suspicions, but you won't like them," he corrected himself, and Lily sighed, taking a seat in the armchair. She had an option in mind, knowing well how Harry and Tom weren't just a normal young couple. She had seen enough to know better than that, but she had chosen to look away. She just hoped, all the time, that they were safe and wouldn't do anything too bad.

But… the implication that they might have James, imprisoned, maybe under harsh torture… It was too much to bear. She couldn't even bring herself to blame them — not after what James had done. She would have been furious if someone had attacked her, but as long as she didn't know more, she couldn't make a justified decision.

"Do you know what happened?" she asked, hearing the exhaustion from her voice so clearly that she had to grimace.

"Yes, but I will not tell you," Albus said. Lily wanted to stand up and go to him, to shake some sense into him, but she knew it wouldn't be taken kindly. She had to be wise about how to continue. I have to be the Slytherin I was supposed to be from the start.

"Did you force him to do it?" she asked, hoping against the odds that he had.

"No. He… volunteered." She swallowed. Her mind repeated why over and over again, but she couldn't understand how James' mind worked. Had she known her husband at all? When did James turn this bad? It wasn't like she didn't know how badly he had bullied Severus during their Hogwarts years, but she had honestly believed he had changed. He had been adamant that he wasn't the same person anymore, but here they were, after a son sorted into Slytherin and married to Lord Slytherin.

"Why?" she whispered, finally saying the question aloud. Albus studied her for a long time, his fingers crossed in front of him. Lily waited, gripping her knees so she didn't fidget under the scrutiny.

"Harry and Tom need to be stopped," Albus finally said. The cold spread through Lily's body, making her shiver. She couldn't believe she was sitting there and listening to Albus's justifications when she was supposed to be next to her son.

She had sat in the Order meetings enough to know what Albus thought about the couple. He seemed to believe that they were on their way to become dark lords, but Lily was pretty sure she knew better. She knew Harry thought he had hidden all the signs well enough, but Lily had seen the red flashes in his eyes often enough to know that they couldn't mean anything else but that Harry was a dark lord — same as Tom. The names, the whispers that travelled through their community from time to time about Dark Lord Voldemort and Dark Lord Slytherin made sense, but she didn't understand how Albus hadn't heard them.

Lily was glad she had learnt Occlumency when Harry had been only seventeen, long before he had ventured to the dangerous waters. She had been able to keep all of her thoughts and knowledge as a secret from Albus, but she was scared of the day when everything would turn around. She would need to show her true loyalties soon, but she wasn't sure at all that she was ready for it.

But she knew that she would stay by his son's side, no matter what. She would be ready to betray every person in her life for it, but she was glad she had Severus. She would survive it, she knew it. It wouldn't be easy, not when one of the most powerful wizards was against the pair she wanted to support.

Would she need to call them her Lords? The thought almost startled a laugh out of her.

"— with me?" Albus asked, only the last words penetrating to the fog in her mind. She shook her head, willing it to clear enough.

"Excuse me? Sorry, I lost myself," she murmured, staring at her hands. Her knuckles were white from how tightly she was clasping her knees, but she couldn't relax them.

"I was asking if you were able to stand against them. I know your love for Harry runs deep, but it can't stop us from defeating them before it is too late. You know the horrors of a dark lord, and not even talking about two of them, and what they could do. You were rather interested in history back in school, and the war with Grindelwald was still fresh in everyone's mind."

"Yes, I know," Lily said, keeping her face straight. "I don't know, but I will think about it. I'm not obviously happy with James because this isn't the way to fight against anyone, but I will think about it." It was the best she could say when she hadn't been able to think it through.

"Good. Let me know when you have decided. I hope it is the right one," Albus said, the familiar twinkling returning in his eyes. "Do you have more questions?" Lily thought about it before shaking her head. It was obvious Albus wouldn't tell her anything else, and her next best bet would be the Black Manor. She was sure Remus didn't have anything to do with the attack, but Sirius could know something, with the way he always joined James in everything. Maybe she could get something out of him.

Lily took her leave, returning first to the Potter Manor to avoid suspicion. Albus had made one thing clear: she would have to choose and soon. When the time came, she knew whose side she would take, there were no questions about that. She just had to hope everything would work out for the best.

Lily brushed ashes out of her dress, glancing around in the grand receiving room. The Black Manor had always appeared gloomy to her, and she couldn't understand why Remus and Sirius lived there voluntarily, especially when Sirius was so against his family. It was just ridiculous when Sirius's inheritance could have bought multiple nice houses anywhere in the world without really making a dent in the vaults.

"Who — Lily!" Remus greeted her, sweeping into the room with the sleeves of his sweater rolled up. Lily smiled at him fondly, accepting a warm hug before looking around again.

"Do you know where Sirius is?" she asked, keeping her mind on the task.

"Somewhere here, but I don't know more. He's been brooding since… James," Remus told him, shrugging his shoulders. It struck interesting to Lily that Remus didn't seem to be that worried.

"Do you know something?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. Remus looked at her for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.

"Not really. Sirius seems to know something, but he hasn't said anything. He has bitten his nails almost completely gone, something he hasn't done since… seventh year, I think. And…" Remus trailed away, looking somewhere behind Lily. He shook himself before turning to the fireplace. "It was around two months ago. I remember James coming here completely wasted, locking me out of the room and putting up the silencing wards. He didn't realise they weren't that good with all the alcohol in his blood, so I could hear some… bits and pieces."

"What did you hear?" Lily whispered when the silence stretched. She was scared, and her heart was beating so loudly she could hear it.

"Something about… a pregnancy," Remus admitted, his throat moving when he swallowed. The blood froze in Lily's veins. "I didn't think about it more. They left soon afterwards, but I don't know where. I had some guesses later on, but not then. Sirius came back in, distraught, repeating how he hated to be an omega. I met with Tom maybe a month or so ago. He had this particular scent on him that I rarely smell, but I knew immediately that Harry was pregnant." He eyed Lily, who had hidden her mouth behind her hand.

"No. Please, say that you don't mean what I think you do," she begged in horror, hoping against hope. She wanted to hit her head against the wall for her stupidity, thinking that a thought of a grandchild would turn James's head.

Another thought came into his mind, filling her with terror. She felt her breakfast turning in her stomach when she tried to stop her brain from continuing the line, but it was impossible. Remus's grim expression all but confirmed it.

That — that James had killed their grandchild on purpose. That he had known what he was doing, and the curse, whatever it was, was designed especially for that.

The betrayal settled into her chest. It was deep and ugly, setting her up against James. She wanted to see James — but only to kill him by herself.

"Whatever it was, Sirius was planning the attack, at least somewhat. He wanted to join James in it, maybe even do it by himself, but his omega side stopped him. There is only one reason that could be strong enough to do it, even for someone as hotheaded and strongwilled as Sirius."

Lily was sure she was white as a sheet when the room tilted around her. She felt strong arms around her shoulders, pulling her to a chest. Remus's sweater under her cheek was scratchy.

"Lily, I — I can't say everything is alright, but… as long as we don't know for sure, it's not wise to speculate," Remus murmured, and Lily tried to swallow around the lump in her throat.

"Sirius couldn't do it because his parental instincts kicked in," she said, her voice hoarse.

"That's — yeah," Remus admitted. Lily squeezed her eyes closed, willing her tears away.

"I need to talk with Sirius."

"No, he won't let you see him. Even I can barely see him." He sounded bitter, and Lily leaned back, looking at his face.

"What — what if it's true? How would your —" She couldn't end her question, but Remus seemed to understand it.

"I don't know. The bond between an alpha and an omega is technically unbreakable, but I…" The silence was heavy, oppressive around them. "You know, I remember when Tom presented. It's been, what, a bit less than twenty years. I've been his mentor for so long, watching from the side as he grew up to be this excellent and powerful young man. I've seen things I wish I hadn't, but the mentorship — the bond — between two alphas can be as strong as between a parent and a child. Tom didn't have parents, I didn't have children."

Lily understood what he meant. What he tried to say. He was technically in the same situation as her, but Remus would suffer so much more if he made the decision.

"I remember one time when they were barely out of Hogwarts, and Tom came to me, asking for recommendations. He didn't know anything about our dating and courting culture. He wanted me to show him all the best places where he could take Harry. He asked about the traditions Harry might wait for. And I taught him everything I knew. He soaked all of it like he had been dry for all of his life." Remus smiled softly.

"He has always looked at you like a son would look at his father," Lily whispered, the tears rolling down her cheeks despite trying to stop them.

"I know. This… is not something I would have wished for my worst enemy. This… tearing pain between two bonds, but I feel less and less sympathy for Sirius day by day."

"Albus suspects something," Lily admitted, and Remus chuckled, the sound cold with a lack of humour.

"Of course, he suspects. He doesn't trust easily, and your bond with Harry is something that he knows is impossible to break. We don't have much time before we have to… turn." Lily gaped at Remus, unable to believe what he was telling her.

"You — but what? Would you —"

"Yes. I can't see it any other way," Remus interrupted, his mouth turned downwards. "Yes, I've loved him since we were sixteen, but I don't even know if I can speak to him anymore."

"But maybe… maybe it won't come to that," Lily said, her voice thin with false hope. Remus didn't answer immediately. He just looked at her, searching for something.

"It is war," he finally said.

Lily's heart skipped a beat. It was like a declaration. She knew that the war wasn't officially there yet, but their families — their two small families — were in the middle of it already. She had never thought that they would be broken, separated by the war. A lot of other things, probably, maybe, yes, but not the war. She had always thought she would be fighting beside James if a war came within her lifetime. She had thought they would be fighting beside Remus and Sirius. That Harry and Tom would be there too. That they would be against a faceless enemy, a foreign force coming from abroad, like Grindelwald had done.

"Are we together in this?" Lily whispered so quietly it was only a breath, but Remus understood. He always did. He smiled sadly, wistfully, like he didn't want to say anything, but he was forced to. Remus took her hand, lacing their fingers together. He squeezed.

"Together," he promised. Lily didn't have a lot of hope for the war, but that was one if anything. She wouldn't need to betray and abandon everyone she knew because Remus would be by her side.

"Together."

Chapter Text

12 | Spear the Sympathy

◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈

March 1990

James swallowed heavily, Lily’s words ringing in his mind.

Harry is pregnant. We ’re going to be grandparents! Can you imagine? Oh, I have to learn knitting from Molly so I can make cute clothes for the princess.

He opened the firewhiskey bottle, planning on filling his glass again, but he knocked the bottle back, pouring the liquid straight into his mouth. It didn’t matter; his whole life had turned around. It had done that probably a long time ago, but now… now that his precious son, whom he had held as a baby in his arms, was pregnant with a child of a devil, it was so much more true.

James glanced at the door, mourning Lily’s absence. Where had they gone so wrong? They had been a small, happy family until Harry had started at Hogwarts. What had happened?

When Harry started at Hogwarts, James had been so sure that he would be sorted into Gryffindor. He had taught his son better. The Sorting Hat allowed a student to make their choice if it fitted even a little to them. Why hadn’t Harry chosen Gryffindor? Or how he was so far from Gryffindor that the Hat had genuinely put him to Slytherin?

The questions and doubts circled his head. What — what if he had made a mistake by judging Harry by his house? He shook his head, reminding himself of the horrors during the wizarding war with Grindelwald. Not all the Slytherins attended the war on Grindelwald's side, but all the British wizards had been Slytherins. James’s father had died at the hands of one of them, leaving him and his mother alone when James was only a few years old.

Had Lily told Harry that it didn’t matter where he was sorted? Was it her fault that Harry was a dark wizard? Riddle. Riddle, the devil himself, had to be the reason. They had met up on the train, hadn’t they? Yes, he had to be the reason. Or that bastard Snivellius. James should’ve been strict with his order not to let them meet up. At least he had succeeded in banning him from being Harry’s godfather.

James drank more firewhiskey. It burned his throat on its way to his stomach, warming him pleasantly. He was lost, his emotions jumbling around. He was ashamed to admit he was scared. He was scared for his son, for his marriage, for the future of the wizarding world. He was sure that if a divorce were viewed better in their world, Lily would have left him already. He loved her, had done so since the first moment his eyes fell on her. Riddle. James was sure of it. Riddle had poisoned Lily against him. It had to be that. There weren't any other plausible explanations.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, getting to his feet. He wanted to see Sirius, the only one of his best friends who hadn’t fallen under Riddle’s charm. He went to the fireplace, the bottle still in hand, and flooed to the Black Manor.

The sitting room was empty, but James didn't have to wait long until Sirius came running in. He took in the bottle in James's hand and the state of his clothing before enveloping James in a hug.

"What has he done now?" Sirius asked, stepping back. James grimaced, taking a new gulp from the bottle and enjoying the burning in his throat. He claimed his favourite armchair in the room, flopping down without a care for the bottle, its contents sloshing but staying in.

"Gotten Harry pregnant," James growled when the silence stretched, becoming heavier.

"What? How? Shouldn't he be unable to —"

"Exactly! I don't understand. Where did I fail with this?" James interrupted, tousling his hair with his free hand. "The plot was perfect, but something must have happened."

"Have you asked the house elf?" Sirius asked, his tone careful. James shot him a glance, shaking his head.

"You know that I can't. I've given him clear instructions that even if I asked about it, he can't tell me anything." He very much wanted to do just that because the pregnancy should have been impossible. He had taken care of it, filling the potion storage regularly so the contraception potion didn't run out for any chance.

"Did Lily find out?" James opened his mouth to answer, but stopped to think about it.

"I… guess it's possible, but she wouldn't be that calm if she knew," he decided. Lily's reaction to the news didn't match up either.

"Fuck," Sirius swore, summoning the bottle from James.

"Hey! Give it back," James shouted, getting to his feet.

"No. We need to see Albus. He can figure this out and fix everything," Sirius told him, and he was right, James had to admit that much. Albus Dumbledore was often watching from the side, not doing anything, but this was something he didn't want either. Albus had helped him make a plan to prevent the pregnancy, so he had to have something to exterminate it.

"Okay, yes. You're right. Let's go," he murmured. Sirius gave him a hand, and James got back up, his legs slightly shaking from everything. "I have no child," he said almost absentmindedly. He wouldn't disown Harry just yet. He wanted to hope that losing an unborn child would break him and Riddle apart.

Sirius went and flooed to Albus's office first, James following only seconds behind. He almost fell into Sirius on his way out of the fireplace, and only after lifting his eyes, he saw Albus's surprised expression.

"James, Sirius, good afternoon. What can I do for you, my boys?" he asked, studying both of them. James was ashamed of his dishevelled state and ruffled his hair more. At least, he had left the bottle at the Black Manor, though he craved it back into his hand.

"Harry's pregnant," James blurted out after a short moment of tense silence. He turned to look at the paintings, not wanting to see the disappointment in Albus's eyes, the heavy determination and resignation.

"Thank you for telling me," Albus sighed. "Please, take a seat. I have a backup plan for this, in case it happens, but it will take a moment." The relief filling James was overwhelming. He knew Albus had a solution; he always had. James took the seat and tried to wait patiently, his leg bouncing up and down. He wanted to get over it as quickly as possible, but knowing the Headmaster, it wouldn't be that easy.

"So, what's the plan?" Sirius asked, saving James from it. He turned his hopeful eyes on Albus, begging him to have a failproof solution.

"You're not going to like this."

"I've done much worse to him than this," James growled, not wanting to hear that. He had already listed many curses on his mind, but none of them really fit the purpose he wanted — he didn't want to hurt Harry if he could avoid it.

"And I'm with James in this," Sirius piped in, lifting the first genuine smile to James's lips since getting the news.

"Very well. I have searched for a curse that would be useful in this particular situation," Albus started, pausing for a long moment until James began to lose his patience again. "It is a miscarriage curse, highly illegal. It forces the target to have a miscarriage immediately."

"That's — that's perfect!" James announced, clapping his hands together. Sirius nodded next to him enthusiastically until he winced, his hands flying to his hair. "Padfoot? What is it?"

"I — I'm sorry, I truly wanted to help, but… my fucking omega instincts won't allow anything to do with this," he groaned, looking like he was fighting with himself. Which was fair enough, if James knew anything about being an omega.

"I was afraid that that could happen," Albus murmured, looking like he was regretting it. James frowned. He didn't want to force Sirius to participate in it. He hated that his best friend was in pain for even knowing about the plan, but he could do it alone.

"I can do it alone, don't worry," he said aloud. He knew it was something barbaric; something that would land him in Azkaban for the rest of his life if he got caught, but he didn't believe it would happen. He could plan it so well that no one knew it was happening until Harry had the miscarriage.

Albus began to prepare the curse, the scroll open in front of him. James watched the wand movements with cold eyes, his fingers curled tight on the armrest. He knew it was necessary, and he would do it. There was no room for doubt.

"Can you do it?" Albus asked when he had shown the curse, his wand hand dropping by his side.

"Yes." James swallowed, gathering his thoughts. "He will thank me one day. He'll see I saved him."

Harry glanced nervously at Tom, who was sitting in the armchair and reading a book. They were waiting for Lily, who should be flooing in any moment, but Harry wasn't sure he was ready to meet her. It had been two weeks since that day, and… there were things he needed to talk to his mother about before he could get his grief out properly.

Mainly: what to do with James.

Harry wanted to torture the man, but Tom had reminded him that Lily deserved to know the truth, deserved to say her last farewell to her husband if nothing else. He was right, but Harry hated it.

The flames turned green, and only a few seconds later, Lily stepped out of the fireplace, her robes slightly wrinkled like she had been in a hurry.

"My son!" she cried, crossing the room quickly and stopping only when she got to Harry and wrapped her hands behind his shoulders. "I'm so sorry, so so sorry," she sobbed, and Harry glanced at Tom over her shoulder, confused about the behaviour. "Had I known, I would have done anything to stop them."

"Mother," Harry interjected, carefully peeling her hands away. Lily collapsed on her knees at his feet, holding his hands tightly. "Mother!" It didn't help, and Harry sighed, desperately looking for anything to help. "Mom, what the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, hoping that the use of 'mom' and cursing finally snapped her out of her stupor.

"I — they — you don't know?" Harry frowned, thinking about anything Lily could mean, but he got nothing in his mind. He shook his head, once again making eye contact with Tom, who looked as confused as he was. "Fuck. Yes, so, um." That was uncharacteristic for Lily, but Harry tried to understand.

"Mother, take a deep breath," he commanded, getting up from the chair and hauling Lily from the floor and seating her on it instead. "We can wait for a moment until you can tell it." They had to, but now that it was clear that James and whoever belonged to 'them' — probably Sirius and Dumbledore, at least — the curiosity burned in his veins like never before. He watched as his mother took deep gulps of air, calming down slowly but surely. He conjured a glass of water and gave it to her.

"Okay, okay, I'm better, I'm sorry," she sighed, drowning the glass immediately. "After I realised what James had done, I started digging. I confronted Albus, talked with Remus and started to search the Potter Manor throughout. I found a stash of contraceptive potions I haven't needed for years. I — I started to think about your problems of conceiving since you shouldn't have any problems in your genes. I realised that they were never for me, but that James had had to find a way to give them to you without anyone knowing it."

Harry balled his hands and looked at Tom, who looked calm, but he could see the crack behind his mask, and the fury bleeding through it.

"Harry, come here," Tom commanded, his tone leaving no option to deny — not that Harry wanted to. He followed his words gladly, seeking refuge from his husband's arms when everything felt like crumpling around him. "We have him already. We can do whatever we want with him." Harry sucked a breath and nodded, his heartbeat slowing down from the scent of his alpha.

"I'm sorry I never saw it before," Lily whispered, her voice breaking in the middle of the words, but Harry couldn't spare a thought for her. He stared at Tom's eyes, the redness of them bleeding through the glamour. He basked in the warmth of their bonds. They stroked his soul, made him remember who he was.

He was a Dark Lord, the one named after Tom's family. He was the Dark Lord Voldemort's husband and consort, and they formed a strong wall that was impossible to breach. They got through anything and everything because they had each other.

He was a strong man, an omega who valued loyalty and hated betrayal. And most of all, he was Tom's equal.

Harry nodded, the silent discussion between them something he had laughed at years ago. They didn't change any words or images, but they knew each other so well that only the look in the eye was enough to tell what the other was thinking.

"Mother, it was not your fault," Harry said, dropping the glamour in his eyes before turning to look at his mother. He was scared that he would lose his last tie to his biological family, but if they wanted to continue their plans, she had to know.

"Oh, my darling," Lily whispered, staring at Harry's red eyes. Harry narrowed them, not knowing what she meant. "I've known for years. It's not new information for me."

"I knew it," Tom said in English, pressing his face against Harry's neck where he could feel the wide smirk. He felt… conflicted. And Lily hadn't told what she thought.

"And I'm fine with it," she continued, like reading what Harry was thinking. "I… can't say I understand, but I — we, with Remus — are with you. On your side." Harry gaped at her, and Tom squeezed his hand, pulling his attention back to himself.

"If Remus is on our side, it means that —"

"Yes, it does," Harry interrupted, the warmth radiating from Tom melting the ice in his chest. He turned to look at his mother, who smiled sadly. "Are you sure?" He needed to know. He didn't want to draw lines.

"I — we — something's happened." Lily took a deep breath, and Harry quirked his eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "I talked with Sev." Harry could feel his hands sweating as he expected more, but she said nothing.

"What did you talk about?" he asked, his voice low as he thought about what to do with it. His hand twitched, wanting to call for Severus, but he wanted it to be Lily's decision.

"Can you call him?" she whispered, like she had seen the twitch.

"How would we call for him?" Tom asked, saying something finally. Harry pressed himself firmer against his chest, sending his love to Tom when his hands tightened around him.

"Like I wouldn't know that he carries your mark," Lily muttered, and Harry laughed. He had truly forgotten how attentive his mother was, how she noticed everything.

"Very well," he said, following the threads in his mind to where the magic connecting him to their marks started. Finding Severus was easy; his magic had a specific feeling, and Harry was used to it after spending a lot of time with him as a kid. He tugged the right thread, knowing that Severus would appear in front of them soon.

"Are you sure about this?" Tom hissed against his ear, his breath tickling him.

"Yes. She's always been on our side, and I can't sense any kind of lies from her. She was never particularly happy with Dumbledore." Tom nodded, his chin brushing Harry's cheek.

The wards flickered around them, telling about the visitor, and Harry let Severus through. He appeared in front of them, dropping to his knees immediately.

"My Lords, you called," he murmured, his head lowered.

"Please, Severus, rise. My Mother is here with us, and she asked me to call for you," Harry told him, keeping his tone calm, so he wouldn't embarrass the man unnecessarily. Severus lifted his face and grimaced before nodding and wiping the expression away. He stood up, clasping his hands behind his back before twirling around, facing Lily.

Harry gave them a sense of privacy and focused inwards, to the bonds he shared with Tom. They pulsed with warmth and love, and combined with Tom's scent, the sweetness and strength of it, it was like bathing in a dream.

"Be careful," Tom whispered close to his ear, one of his hands sliding to Harry's thigh. The warmth seeping through the trousers was enough to make Harry… want. Tom chuckled lowly, his chest vibrating with it, and Harry felt the blush rising on his cheeks. He slammed the Occlumency shields up, hoping that it would stop his arousal seeping into his scent — not that Lily or Severus would really smell it. Once again, Harry was thankful that the betas didn't have the same sense of smell as omegas and alphas, lest he would have embarrassed himself badly.

He glanced at their visitors, both of them sitting on the same couch, their heads bent together.

"What do you think they are talking about?" he couldn't help but ask, his curiosity getting the better of him. Lily had said that something had happened, and if Harry had to guess, he would say it was related to her relationship with James. It would be a good thing, but something he didn't dare to hope until Lily said it aloud.

"I don't know, but we will get to know soon." Harry looked at Tom, who nodded towards Lily and Severus. Both of them had straightened their backs, looking like they had made a huge decision. Harry moved to his own chair reluctantly, but moved it close enough to clasp Tom's hand.

"So…" Lily started, but didn't continue. Harry sighed, wanting to get over it, but he couldn't push his mother to tell it faster — whatever it was. He noticed Severus taking Lily's hand and squeezing it, and his eyebrows knitted together. That was something new. He had always known that Lily and Severus were best friends and had been since their childhood, but he wouldn't have guessed that. He knew Severus had always loved his mother, probably more than he wanted to, and he truly tried to hide it, but when you knew where to look, it was easy to spot.

"Mother, just say it," he commanded, his voice laced with the authority he had never shown in front of her. He saved it for the Knights meeting, but he didn't want to lose precious time waiting for her to admit.

"Okay, fine, Merlin. I — you're not what I expected." Harry felt a tinge of hurt in his chest, and Tom's thumb brushed the back of his hand.

"What did you expect? That I'd be a weak omega?" he all but growled, disappointed that even his mother thought like that.

"What? No, no, my dear, you understood it wrong. I — it's hard to explain. It's not about you being an omega or that you're clearly submissive in your relationship. Can we — can we just move on?" Harry stared hard at Lily's pleading expression, taking in her soft eyes and guild etched on the corners of her mouth.

"Fine," he said, nodding sharply before leaning back in his chair. He called a house elf and ordered tea for them, the silence hanging heavy over them while they waited. He relaxed when he got the cup in his hand, the tea made just like he loved it — with a splash of milk and two cubes of sugar. The smell of coffee came from Tom's cup, and Harry almost smiled, reminded of their quiet mornings in the greenhouse where they liked to take breakfast during the summer.

"I've been thinking for a long time that the relationship with your — James wasn't meant to be. I made sure to get through it until you're an adult, but now that you are, I started truly thinking… And now, with the latest events, I have made my decision to leave James. Because — because I want to be with Sev." Harry quirked his eyebrow when Lily blushed almost as red as her hair. Severus sat by her side, his whole body stiff like he wanted to escape the situation.

"Yes, continue. I want to hear about what Remus said," he said, not wanting to really hear about Lily's relationships. It was her own thing, and he had nothing against her decisions — whatever it was.

Unless she was in league with James, Tom murmured through their bond, earning a glare from Harry.

"Um, really?" she asked, and Harry just nodded, not wanting to explain anything yet. "Well, I was trying to figure out what happened to James, though I… guessed where he truly is, but I went to confront Albus, and when he couldn't offer anything tangible, I went to the Black Manor, planning to talk with Sirius. He… wasn't there, but I talked with Remus." Tom squeezed his hand tighter, and it was Harry's turn to soothe him with his thumb. He sent him his assurance and let his scent spread stronger in the air, forcing Tom to relax.

"What did he say?"

"He reminded me that his bond with Tom isn't unlike my bond with you." Tom inhaled sharply next to him, his fingers tightening around Harry's hand almost painfully. She recounted their meeting, leaving Harry's mind reeling from the revelation.

And from the painful reminder that he had ripped the two families apart.

"No! You are not the fault," Tom hissed furiously, making Severus and Lily flinch. Harry turned to look at him, staring at the red flames in his eyes. Tom showed him their lives, pointed out where James and Sirius had gone wrong and how it wasn't Harry's fault at all. How he had done his best to keep them on their side, even though they had known it near impossible. Harry swallowed and nodded, his eyes burning, but he pushed the feeling aside, dipping his whole soul into the dimmer pool of Tom's emotions.

"So, what are you saying? That you and Remus would be ready to turn? Possibly acting as our spies?" Tom asked, and Harry was thankful. He didn't know if he was able to say anything just yet.

"Yes," Lily answered, the one word stronger than anything else she had said.

"Are you truly ready to face the truth of our… lives? Of our darkness? You know what being a Dark Lord entitles, don't you?" Lily's eyes flickered between Tom and Harry before she repeated with a firm resolve:

"Yes, I am. You are my son and my son-in-law. Whatever it is, nothing can change that."

"Even if we have him in our dungeons, waiting to be tortured near death before bringing him back to health and repeating it again and again?" Harry had to hide his smile from his mother when Tom said it. He couldn't wait to get his hand on James again, to drive him to the brink of madness.

"Y-yes," Lily said, but her voice wavered, and Harry's gaze snapped at her. He narrowed his eyes, trying to gauge her emotions.

"What is it, Mother?" he demanded, not really trusting in his our senses at the moment.

"You have every right to keep him here. I don't think he would've been sentenced under the Ministry, despite how awfully he did. To — to attack his own son! I just… I don't want him to die." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper by the end, and Harry tilted his head, thinking about it.

He could understand it. He didn't want James to die either, not yet, not until Harry had healed all the hurt he had given him. He wanted to break the man as badly as he had broken Harry. He wanted to rebuild him into something useless, something that would suffer through his pain.

"Then he won't die," Harry said simply, his voice emotionless. "But he will suffer." It wasn't something he would give up. Lily closed her eyes and nodded, her hands trembling where they rested on her lap.

Tom squeezed his hand, grounding him. For the first time in… days, Harry could breathe without strain. He didn't feel he was alone, not anymore. He had Tom. He had his mother. He had Severus and Remus. He had their Knights.

He wasn't alone in this.

Tom was at the Ministry and visiting Regulus and Bill, finally, after nearly two suffocating weeks of him shadowing Harry's every move. It wasn't that Harry didn't love him or want his company. He did, fiercely so, more than he needed air in his lungs. But ever since Tom had taken the sick leave from the Ministry, he had treated Harry like he was glass.

And Harry… He needed to break something. He wanted to feel something, to bleed, so he could know he was still able to fight. That he could still protect Tom. He had to be stronger, more powerful, faster, better. He didn't want to feel the all-crushing helplessness that threatened to swallow him every night after Tom's breathing had evened out.

He knew a perfect person to get the emotions out of him. He hadn't told Tom, lest he would've joined him for the visit and therefore stopped him from getting what he wanted. Tom would be furious when he learnt, but it was worth it. Harry was sure of it.

"Spinner's End," he called to the green flames before stepping in. He pulled his arms in and waited until the movement stopped, stepping out of the fireplace gracefully.

He would have laughed if it were like him to the way Severus jolted and spilt tea on his lap.

"Harry!" he shouted, his mouth set to a firm scowl, but Harry knew he wasn't truly angry at him.

"Hello, Uncle Sev — or should I say stepfather?" he asked, laughing when Severus spluttered.

"Please, never say that again," he pleaded, leaning forward to lower his cup on the table.

"Fine. I was just joking, you know? I came here for a reason." Severus's eyes snapped on him, and Harry smiled sweetly, pushing all of his charm on the surface.

"What is it?" he asked, sounding exhausted, and Harry's grin widened.

"Duel with me."

"Absolutely not," Severus denied vehemently, and Harry crossed his arms, his smile fading.

"This isn't a request," he murmured, his tone firm and on the edge of turning threatening. He could feel his magic vibrating just beneath his skin, waiting to be used.

"Does Lord Slytherin know you are here?"

"No," Harry scoffed, reminding himself that Severus was basically family. Someone not to kill. "He wouldn't approve."

"Then I definitely won't —"

"Severus," Harry almost hissed, his voice dropping cold. He liked, even loved Severus. He was important to him and their cause, but he wouldn't stand his defiance forever. "You might be my honorary uncle and godfather, but I am still your Lord. You will do as I say or I will punish you." He stared at Severus impatiently, waiting for his two sides to come to an agreement about what to do. He wouldn't hesitate to torture him — just a little — if he didn't do as he asked, but he trusted him to know better.

"Very well, my Lord," Severus said at last, bowing his head deeply. Harry smirked smugly, feeling satisfied and like he hadn't lost his touch while being sick. "But if he kills me for this, I'm haunting you."

Severus's training room in the Spinner's End was even smaller than Harry remembered. The ceiling was too low for anyone taller than him. It was too narrow, more suited for brewing than duelling, but it had been Severus's training room since Harry had been a kid.

Severus moved to the opposite wall, his robes rustling as he readied himself. Harry threw his robes to the corner, stretching his legs and arms before falling into a stance. His wand was strapped to his forearm while Severus had his in his hand, his posture guarded.

"Ready?" Harry asked, his eyes gleaming from excitement. He couldn't wait to get to work. He had grown restless, and now that he was on the brink of getting that energy out, he couldn't stop himself from shaking.

"No," Severus muttered. "But it doesn't seem to matter." Harry laughed, a wide grin on his lips. Merlin, he had missed duelling.

"Three. Two. One. Expelliarmus!" The first wave of spells exploded between them in a tangle of light. Harry attacked aggressively, but Severus just shielded and dodged. Harry narrowed his eyes, pushing harder. He wanted Severus to snap, to give his best. The fury, started by the easy opponent, who didn't push back, got hotter and hotter, licking his insides as the sweat made his nape damp.

"Fuck you, stop holding back!" he shouted, the embarrassment about cursing staying only for a few seconds.

"I'm not going to hurt you!"

"Then you're wasting my time!" Harry growled, baring his teeth. He gripped his wand better, preparing to cast Crucio. Severus gritted his teeth, his chin tensing visibly, and he finally stuck back. His strong Stinging Hex landed square on Harry's collarbone, a red welt flaring across his skin. Harry hissed from pain before laughing, finally feeling truly alive.

"Good. Again!" he commanded, casting Flipendo at Severus, who dodged it easily.

They moved quickly, dancing around each other as the air thickened with magical pressure. The room trembled under the weight of it, a candle sconce bursting from the wall with a crash. They came close to each other before stepping quickly away, casting everything and anything coming into their minds. Harry didn't save with the Crucio, but Severus didn't dare to go that far — something Harry loathed.

Harry could feel how his magic was leaping out of him, covering the floor and walls. Sweat trickled down his spine, and his heartbeat was like thunder in his ears, but he couldn't stop. He still had so much more to prove, and he couldn't give up. Severus's shield cracked, and he stumbled.

Harry saw his opening and fired a hex he barely registered casting. Severus slammed backwards into the wall, his breathing laboured, but clearly unhurt. His wand clattered to the floor, and Harry realised he couldn't continue, not against Severus, but there was still a training dummy in the corner. He had to — he had to —

He spun, sent a curse into the ceiling, making the whole room tremble, and another to the dummy, destroying it. His limbs felt light, like he was floating. His vision blurred as he called his magic back to him, his mind looking for something.

It is too much. He tried to steady himself and breathe, but the oxygen wouldn't come fast enough. His knees buckled.

"Harry — !" The training room spun in his eyes, and the air rang with pressure. He could hear the wards screaming.

Tom!

It was like an explosion, making Harry's ears ring, but when the silence finally returned, he was there. He was dressed in the black suit he favoured sometimes, his wand drawn and his eyes blazing with fury.

"What—have—you—done?" he snarled, somewhere between Parseltongue and English. Harry couldn't stop the sob escaping him before his legs gave up. Tom caught him mid-fall, cradling his body like something fragile, and Harry wanted to hiss and growl, to be anything else but breakable, but he understood the seriousness of the situation. He could feel it in a way his magic was escaping him in wild sparks, unstable and bright. It probably hurt everyone around him, but Tom looked like he didn't care.

"Severus," Tom snapped, not looking away from Harry. "Get out." Harry sighed in relief, knowing that he had almost managed to get Severus tortured, maybe even killed. Severus bowed and vanished without a sound.

Tom laid Harry on the floor gently, one hand already at his chest. Harry breathed, almost purred, his magic finally calming under Tom's domineering presence. Tom gripped his wrist and checked his pulse, making Harry almost smile. It was so… muggle to do it by hand, without the help of magic. His other hand brushed Harry's hair back, eyes scanning for injuries.

"You absolute fool," he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. "What were you thinking?" Harry managed to blink up at him before closing his eyes. Now that Tom was with him, he started to feel embarrassed about how he had goaded Severus into a duel.

"I needed to… to feel strong again," he mumbled, his words barely audible. "To protect you." He lifted his hand to Tom's cheek, cradling it.

"You already do," Tom answered after a moment of silence, his voice low and dangerous. "Just by existing and being mine. You give me the hunger to live." Harry tried to smile, but he was sure it faltered before it got to his lips.

"You're angry."

"I'm furious," Tom snapped, the hiss making Harry flinch on his arms. The hand brushing Harry's cheek softened his words before he said more. "But not with you, remember it. I'm never furious with you. I left you alone. I let you forget that you don't have to prove yourself to anyone." He stood up, Harry in his arms. "I'll take care of it now. We're going home."

"And Severus?" Harry whispered. He knew that he would fall asleep as soon as they got home, and he was scared that Tom would come back for revenge.

"I saw what you did. Your emotions were so strong that they almost pulled me in," Tom murmured, his nose brushing Harry's cheek like a whisper. He hummed, relieved about that, relaxing against Tom's chest. His eyes closed on their own accord. "We will talk about this later, find a solution," Tom promised just before the darkness claimed him.