![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
batsutousaiTitle: Abandoned: The Re-Write
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: M/R
Main Pairing: Harry/Tom, Harry/Voldemort
Side Pairings: Ginny/Theodore Nott, Seamus/Blaise Zabini, past-Ron/Hermione, Hermione/Luna, others
Warnings: SLASH, mentions of child abuse/rape/torture, language, character death, minor Dumbledore bashing, Grey-to-Dark!Harry
Summary: A complete re-write of Abandon: Before the start of his seventh year, Harry Potter is abandoned in London by his muggle family and finds himself befriending Lord Voldemort.
A/N: I know you'll all be absolutely ecstatic to know that we finally get some smut in this chapter.
Chapter Twenty: Holiday Cheer
-0-
Harry snuck out early on Monday morning, while Remus was still asleep, and apparated to Lyon to see if he could catch Fletch. He knew, from living with the Dursleys, that it was considered polite to bring something when you were to be a guest in someone's home, and he figured there was nothing wrong with getting something for the Malfoys as a sort of 'thanks for allowing a muggleborn and a couple Weasleys into your house so the Order doesn't freak out about me staying over'. Aunt Petunia had always insisted that good wine was the way to go, but Harry didn't know anything about wine.
Over the summer, he'd been treated to a debate between Fletch and Tom about a particular Portuguese wine that Fletch thought was quite flavourful, but which Tom had far less complimentary words for. They'd both mentioned plenty of other wines, but Harry couldn't pretend to know which ones were which. He could have asked Tom, certainly, but the Dark Lord was as likely to laugh as he was to help.
Anyway, there was a bakery not far from the bistro, which Harry knew, from Fletch, had some excellent breakfast sandwiches. He figured he could come back with them and use that as his excuse for sneaking out so early without a word.
Fletch hadn't opened yet when Harry got there, but he was in and more than happy to let the teen in while he went about his morning preparations. They traded the gossip for a bit first – Fletch about the local shops, Harry about Tom teaching at Hogwarts – and Fletch was completely honest when he congratulated Harry on dating Tom, which the teen flushed at.
Fletch had a couple of suggestions, when Harry finally got around to asking about wine, and pulled out a local map to show Harry which shop had the best options, as well as writing out a note he could hand to the proprietor to get around the fact that Harry knew only a handful of French, while the man in question knew about as much English.
"Are you and Tom intending to come by for lunch again while you are on holiday?" Fletch asked when Harry made to go.
Harry considered that for a moment before shrugging. "I honestly don't know. Though..." He scratched at his nose thoughtfully. "His birthday is the thirty-first, and I was trying to find some way to celebrate without making a big deal about it. I'll see if he's willing to come down here for it."
Fletch chuckled. "Good luck," he offered, completely honest. "And let me know if I should pick up a cake."
Harry laughed. "I'm sure that will go over fantastically." They traded knowing smiles and Harry waved the note for the wine shop owner. "Thank you for this. And hopefully I'll see you again before the new year."
"Enjoy your Christmas!" Fletch called after him before locking the door back up behind Harry.
Harry hurried to get the wine and breakfast sandwiches, then apparated back to Remus' flat.
"Do I want to know where you went?" Remus asked tiredly from where he was slumped against the worktop in the kitchen, clutching a mug of tea between his hands as though his life depended on it.
Harry held up the bag with the sandwiches. "I got us breakfast."
Remus eyed the French words scrawled across the face of the bag and shook his head. "Of course you did." He glanced towards the bag Harry was failing to keep out of sight. "And wine."
Harry flushed. "To take to the Malfoys'."
Remus shook his head and turned to pull out plates. "Politeness never hurts," he agreed and Harry let himself relax as he set the sandwich bag on the worktop and went to put the wine away.
Tuesday evening found Harry and Remus sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. (Which Harry was pretty sure was an addition to the flat and covered in muggle-focussed Notice-Me-Not charms, but figured the less he knew about the specifics, the better.) They'd agreed that, given that Remus was going to be out of the country on the twenty-fifth, they would be better served exchanging gifts that evening.
Remus handed over a gift bag that he held so gingerly, it put Harry on guard, especially when he found it to be surprisingly heavy. "I'd originally meant this for the general war effort, but now I'm worried you'll get use out of it far sooner," he admitted.
"Comforting, thank you," Harry offered drily, even as he carefully pulled out the tissue paper. Within were two small knives with dark leather sheaths. They didn't look like they would do much damage, but when Harry pulled one out, frowning, Remus flinched away. "Silver knives?" he asked as he put the weapon back in the bag, where Remus couldn't see it.
Remus offered a shaky smile. "Yes. Voldemort counts a number of werewolves among his allies, and you know we have some resistance to magic." Harry nodded, setting the bag down on the floor, where his godfather wouldn't be able to see it. "Keep those on you while you're in Malfoy Manor, for my peace of mind, if nothing else, please."
"Okay," Harry agreed. "Though, I don't actually know anything about using knives."
Remus grimaced. "Mad-Eye knows you're getting them."
"Ah." Harry nodded. "Suddenly, his insistence that I meet up with him on Monday makes more sense."
Remus chuckled. "I suspect you'll be quite proficient in their use by the next full moon."
"If Mad-Eye has his way, I'll be proficient with them by the time the holiday is over," Harry muttered before handing his gift for Remus over. "Here. Happy Christmas."
Remus pulled open the box and laughed as the small wardrobe's worth of new robes within. "Are you trying to tell me something, Harry?" he asked as he pulled out the light brown robe that had been on top of the pile.
"Perhaps," Harry agreed cheerfully. "They're charmed so they'll fit to you the first time you put each one on. And, yes, I know, most of the missions you go on are best served by your wearing ruined robes, but that doesn't mean you need to wear them to Diagon or Headquarters."
"Or picking you up at King's Cross?" Remus suggested, so very obviously amused.
Harry shrugged. "Look at it another way: Snape will probably faint to see you in nice robes for once."
Remus laughed.
Draco and Lucius were waiting for them in the receiving hall when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny portkeyed in.
"Welcome to Malfoy Manor," Lucius offered stiffly, eyes trailing over his guests and clearly finding them lacking.
Ron drew in a sharp breath and Harry stepped between his friend and the Death Eater before things could devolve too quickly. "Draco, Mr Malfoy," he offered politely before pulling out the wine he'd bought. "Thank you for having us." He held the wine out towards Lucius.
Surprise sparked in Lucius' eyes as he accepted the gift. He glanced the bottle over, then inclined his head towards Harry. "You have unexpectedly good taste, Potter."
Harry shrugged. "I can't take all the credit. A friend of mine was the one who suggested what to get." He let a faint smile show. "I suspect the Dark Lord won't enjoy it; he and Fletch have never agreed on wine."
Lucius snorted and Harry got the impression that their host was quite familiar with the Dark Lord's tastes. "Draco will show you to the rooms you will be staying in during your stay. They were all gone over this morning and any dangerous objects or spells were removed. I have been informed that you will be adding your own wards to them?"
"We will?" Hermione whispered.
"Yes," Harry agreed.
Lucius nodded. "Lunch is in two hours. A house-elf will be sent to collect you." Then he turned and left them with Draco.
"This way," Draco ordered before turning and leading them into the manor.
'Tom?' Harry called as he followed Draco.
"Harry, we don't know any wards," Hermione whispered.
'Are you here?' the Dark Lord returned, even as Harry told Hermione, "I do."
"You do?"
'Yeah,' Harry told the Dark Lord. 'Draco's showing us to our rooms right now.'
'I'll stop by as soon as I'm done with this meeting.'
Harry refocused on Hermione. "I know a few. And, no, I can't tell you how I learnt them, please don't ask."
Hermione frowned.
Harry glanced past his muggleborn friend to where Ron and Ginny were staring around at everything with wide eyes, then he looked back up at Draco. "Hey, Draco?"
The blond glanced back at him. "Potter."
"Do you have wards up to keep the Ministry from knowing what magic's cast on the grounds?" Mad-Eye had suggested it was very likely something the Malfoys would do.
Draco's steps slowed as he considered his response, likely trying to decide if it was worth it to admit to having an illegal ward covering the property when he was being followed by two children of a Ministry worker. After a long moment of silence, during which all four Gryffindors focussed on him, he finally admitted, "Yeah. Why?"
Harry motioned towards Ginny. "Gin's not of age yet; if you've got that ward up, she doesn't have to worry about any owls from the Ministry if she needs to cast a couple spells."
"Wait, really?" Ginny called, perking up.
Draco flashed a knowing smile over his shoulder towards the girl. "Yes, really. Happy Christmas. Don't tell your father."
Ginny and Harry both laughed, while Ron snorted and Hermione sighed.
Draco stopped them in the middle of a hallway on the first floor. There were doorways all along it, most of them closed. "These are the rooms set aside for you four," he offered, pointing to the four doors they were standing in between. "Each of them has only one bed right now, but they're big enough that we can fit two beds in each one, if you'd rather sleep two to a room."
Ron pushed one of the doors open. "Bloody hell."
Draco snorted. "Oh, that's right. They might be a bit big for you, Weasel."
"Stop it," Harry ordered as he walked over to take in the, admittedly, impressively large room. Harry suspected they could have got the entirety of Remus' flat into the one room. He cleared his throat and eyed the other three doors a bit helplessly. "Well. I should be able to ward all four rooms, if we want to spread out."
"What sort of wards?" Hermione asked.
Harry scratched the back of his neck. "Uhm, well, the basic alarm ward, and then a ward to keep anyone from entering the room if they're not already keyed in. Which reminds me." He turned to Draco. "If you could call whichever house-elf is most likely to be leading us around, I'm going to need them here while I cast the ward, or they'll have to knock on doors to collect us."
Draco frowned. "What are you doing, casting the Fidelius?"
"Not quite."
Draco sighed and called, "Noodles!"
A house-elf appeared next to him. It was wearing a tea towel that was a little cleaner than Dobby's had been, but there was a defeated air about it that had Hermione letting out a broken sound and stepping forward. Ginny grabbed her arm and shook her head when Hermione looked back at her.
"Noodles," Draco said and the house-elf looked up tiredly, "these are my guests: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron and Ginny Weasley. You'll be serving as their guide and answering to them while they're here over the holidays."
"Yes, Young Master," Noodles mumbled before looking towards the Gryffindors. "How can Noodles serve?"
Harry offered the house-elf a small smile. "I need to cast some wards and I need you in the rooms when I do so, or you won't be able to enter them after. Can you stay here for a bit, or were you in the middle of something?"
The only sign that Noodles was surprised at being given the option to leave was a slow blink of his eyes. "Noodles is free to serve Young Master's guests."
"Okay." Harry turned back to his friends, resisting the urge to thank the house-elf only because he remembered how Dobby had reacted the first time he'd thanked him. "So, how many rooms?"
"I'd like a room to myself," Ginny said. "No offence, Hermione."
Hermione sighed. "None taken. I'd rather appreciate a room all my own myself."
Harry nodded. "Ron?"
Ron grimaced. "Separate rooms is fine."
"Right. We'll start here, then. Everyone in. Noodles, you too."
"Potter," Draco called as the others filed into the room Ron had opened. When Harry looked back at him, one eyebrow raised, he asked, "Do you mind if I stay and watch?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't, no. You'll have to be inside, though, or there won't be much to see. I don't mind giving you access to my room, but the others might have something else to say."
Draco sniffed. "So this will be your room," he announced before stepping forward and following a laughing Harry inside.
Draco was standing out in the hallway, waiting for everyone to finish with Ron's room – he'd been the only one who'd refused to let the youngest Malfoy have access to his room, so they'd done him last – when he called, "Potter! You've got a guest!"
Harry – suspecting he knew who it was, especially given the undertone of fear in Draco's voice – just shook his head and helped Ron finish the alert ward, tying the alarm to his wand, so he'd know if someone tried getting into his room. "Good," he said, nodding to Ron. "We're done, then. Time to unpack."
"And see who's out there," Ginny added.
"I have a pretty good idea," Harry admitted before opening the door and smiling at where Voldemort was standing in the middle of the hallway, staring at the door that he'd just opened. Harry refused to let his boyfriend's form bother him, having already expected he'd be seeing more of Voldemort than he did of Tom, since he knew that was the form the Dark Lord preferred to wear around his Death Eaters. "Hi, Tom," he offered over the sounds of indrawn breath behind him as his friends caught sight of the Dark Lord.
Voldemort snorted. "Have you finished casting your illegal wards, then?" he asked, a hint of a hiss to his words drawing out any 's's.
"Harry!" Hermione complained, sounding more than a little strained.
"Restricted," Harry insisted, lightly smacking Voldemort's arm once he was within range and scowling up at him.
"Semantics," Voldemort returned, unbothered.
Harry sighed. "Come on, I want to see if you can get past the ward."
"Without tearing it down?"
"Please. I don't have the energy to cast it a fifth time."
Voldemort caught his shoulder and forced Harry to stop just outside the first room he'd warded. "Noodles," Voldemort called, looking back towards where the house-elf was half-hiding behind the huddle of Gryffindors and Draco outside Ron's room. "Go to my quarters and get the orange potion on the second shelf."
"Yes, Master Lord," Noodles squeaked before popping away.
Harry frowned, trying to figure out which potion Voldemort wanted. It wasn't until Noodles had returned with the requested potion that Harry recognised an energy revitaliser. "Tom, it's really not nec–"
Voldemort pinned him with a glare as he held up the potion. "You can either drink this under your own power, or I'll pour it down your throat myself."
Harry sighed and accepted the potion. "If I end up walking the halls all night, unable to sleep, it's your fault," he insisted before uncorking the bottle and drinking it as quickly as he could, knowing it would taste vile.
Voldemort snorted and waited until Harry had finished the potion before saying, "You can't blame your insomnia on me, Harry, I know better." He vanished the potion bottle and nodded towards the door to Harry's room.
"And when has that stopped me? Bastard."
"Imp," Voldemort returned fondly as Harry stepped past his ward and motioned the Dark Lord forward. He considered the ward for a moment, eyes glittering with magic to let him see the spellwork, then stepped past it without any hint of resistance. "Impressive."
"Is it counting you as a caster?" Harry had to ask, because that could mean the ward considered the Death Eaters servants and there would be a high likelihood they would be able to get past; he really needed to actually study up on runes some so he got more out of using the spell Voldemort was using than staring at the unfamiliar lettering and pretty colours.
Voldemort shook his head. "It doesn't seem to be. Or, at least, if it is, it's not giving my servants access." He looked back at Harry, red eyes no longer glittering. "You don't have to teach your friends how to cast the ward."
"I'm more worried about having to pull the wards down, personally," Harry muttered, because there were a few weaker wards he could cast instead that wouldn't leave the same weakness in regard to the Death Eaters. He shook his head and stepped closer to the Dark Lord. "Can I have you for a moment?"
Voldemort's lipless mouth twisted up with a fond smile before he shifted seamlessly into his Tom form. He reached up and gently carded one hand through Harry's hair. "Better?" he teased.
"Rather," Harry agreed as he reached up to pull the Dark Lord down for a kiss, which Tom allowed without complaint, his free arm wrapping around Harry's waist and holding him close. "Are you enjoying having free reign to torture people when they irritate you?" Harry joked when Tom drew away.
Tom's eyes glinted with something dark and cruel. "You have no idea."
Harry rolled his eyes.
Tom stepped away and turned towards toward the huddle of students that had formed in the doorway. They all flinched back, but Harry motioned them in, so they stepped gingerly forward. "I expect Lucius simply welcomed you and left?" Tom asked, glancing at Harry.
Harry shrugged. "He did say he would send a house-elf to lead us to lunch."
Tom nodded and looked between Harry and the other students. "Mr Malfoy is already aware, but for the rest of you: Marked Death Eaters eat separately from unmarked spouses and children, so you won't be seeing them during meals. The only exception is Christmas dinner, which will include everyone. It does have a pre-set seating arrangement, however, and you will all be placed near those of my followers who are least likely to cause trouble.
"As Dumbledore ordered, while you are here, I very much suggest you remain in groups of at least two, for your safety. If anyone gives you trouble, get word to me via a house-elf or Harry, and I will handle it. Do not try handling things yourself." He narrowed his eyes at Harry, who grimaced, then inclined his head in understanding. "Good. Anything else?"
"What...should we call you?" Hermione asked carefully.
Tom frowned in thought and glanced towards Harry, who shrugged. "Some variation on 'the Dark Lord' is preferred," Tom decided, looking back at the other Gryffindors and Draco. "Voldemort is fine, though it will likely receive unfavourable responses from many in the manor, and I will always accept 'sir'. If only those students in your group are in attendance, you may refer to me as you would at Hogwarts. If you absolutely must–" he looked at Harry, who grinned "–I will answer to my birth name in private." He looked at Hermione. "Does that answer your question, Miss Granger?"
"Yes, sir," Hermione whispered, ducking her head.
Tom nodded and morphed back into his Voldemort form, making everyone but Harry flinch. "Stay out of trouble, if at all possible," he requested of Harry as he made for the door, students hurrying out of his way.
"I'll try," Harry promised. "Oh, and Tom?"
Voldemort glanced back at him, one hairless eyebrow raised in inquiry.
"I told Fletch we might drop by on New Year's Eve."
Voldemort snorted. "Of course you did." He turned and left, mentally adding, 'I already told Lucius I would be unavailable for the day.'
Harry smiled to himself and glanced at his friends. "Right. Unpacking, then lunch, I suppose? And then 'Mione can take over the library while the rest of us find other amusements."
"You three can always help me," Hermione pointed out as the others turned to leave Harry's room.
"Come on, Hermione," Ron complained. "It's the holiday. Malfoy, you've got to have brooms and a place to fly around here."
"We don't have enough people for quidditch," Draco pointed out.
"So we'll toss a quaffle around," Ginny returned.
Harry smiled and shook his head at the group as they made their ways towards their own rooms, the discussion continuing.
Harry hadn't been lying about the energy revitaliser keeping him up, for all that the Dark Lord joked about it being because of his insomnia. (Which, to be fair, insomnia was certainly part of it, but any sort of potion that had a chance of waking the drinker up usually left him far too awake to get to sleep at anything approaching a normal time.)
He spent a couple of hours after the others had turned in reading the book on runes that he'd filched from the Malfoy library, then mentally reached towards his boyfriend. 'Are you still up?'
'I have some paperwork I'm going through,' Tom replied, 'but I'm effectively alone for the night, unless there's an emergency that someone thinks they should chance waking me for.'
Harry grimaced at the thought of what would happen to any idiot thinking disturbing the Dark Lord at night was a wise idea, even as he rose and went over to his bag for his Invisibility Cloak and the Dark Lord's present. 'Where are you?'
Tom chuckled warmly in his mind. 'Turn right, three doors down on the same side of the hall. You shouldn't need your Cloak.'
'Better safe than sorry,' Harry insisted as he threw it on.
'You have been spending far too much time with Moody.'
'Very likely.' Harry slipped out of his room and took care to close his door quietly behind him.
Tom was waiting with his door open. The wards of his room let Harry past without trouble, but he still shuddered at the feeling of the heavy magic tingling against his skin. "Slightly less legal than your wards," Tom murmured once the door was closed behind Harry and he'd pulled his Cloak off.
"But you're the Dark Lord," Harry insisted. "If you hadn't warded this place with as many illegal wards as you could find, people would think you were losing your touch."
Tom snorted and motioned Harry towards the plush couch set against one wall next to a desk covered in parchment and muggle notepads. "We mustn't have that. Merlin alone knows what sort of idiot would try taking my place." He settled on the couch next to Harry and smiled when the teen immediately leant against him. "Insomnia?"
"Mm." Harry closed his eyes and relaxed against the Dark Lord. "I brought your present, in case you wanted to open it early."
Tom chuckled, warm and familiar, and wrapped his arms around Harry. "Perhaps in a bit. I'm quite comfortable as I am."
They sat like that for a good ten minutes, before Harry caught himself starting to doze off and had to make himself pull away; as comfortable as he was, falling asleep in Tom's room would very likely end with panicking his friends if they woke first and found his room empty. "Present," he insisted, holding up the necklace box.
Tom accepted it with a smile and waved his wand in the direction of the large bed. A small box floated over and he handed it to Harry. "Open it," he ordered, setting the box Harry had given him in his lap.
Harry eyed him suspiciously for a moment before carefully pulling off the ribbon tying the velvet box closed. He opened it and blinked at the ring with the Slytherin crest nestled within.
"It's a portkey," Tom said in a rush, nervousness echoing through the bond. "Thought-activated. If you're ever in trouble, just think at it 'Take me home' and it will transport you to a cabin I own in Wales. It's unplottable, so no one can follow you. You'll be safe."
Harry swallowed and kneeled up so he could kiss the Dark Lord before he actually started babbling. It was the best gift anyone could have got him, and only Tom knew enough to know how very much he needed something like this. "I love you," he whispered against Tom's mouth.
Tom caught his gaze, one hand coming up to cradle the side of Harry's face. "You mean the world to me," he murmured, so honest it nearly took Harry's breath away. "Promise me, Harry, that you won't wait until it's too late to use the ring; I already know you're strong, but I need you safe."
Harry nodded, nose brushing against Tom's. "I promise," he whispered, determined to keep his word. "If I'm ever cornered again, if there's ever a chance that I might be in over my head, I'll use the portkey."
"That's all I can ask," Tom decided.
Harry pulled back enough that he could see as he pulled the ring from out of the velvet hold, then held it between them. "Put it on me?"
Tom's eyes glinted with amusement. "How much of a statement are you intending to make, Mr Potter?"
In answer, Harry wiggled his left ring finger at the Dark Lord.
Tom chuckled and gently slipped the ring on the requested finger, then turned Harry's hand over and kissed his palm as the ring magically resized itself. "Shall we see what you got me, then?" he murmured against Harry's palm.
Harry pulled his hand back, feeling strangely warm. "Bastard. It's nowhere near as perfect," he admitted, glancing down at his new ring.
Tom pulled the wrapping paper off and pulled the jewellery box open. "Yes, I'm seeing that," he remarked, staring down at the plain silver chain with a blank rectangle.
Harry rolled his eyes. "It's a Morphing Pendant."
Tom blinked. "I have no idea what that is," he admitted.
Harry bit his tongue to keep from laughing. "Will wonders never cease," he teased and Tom shot him a dirty look. He held his hand over his mouth, new ring already body-warm where it pressed against the smile he couldn't help. "Sorry. You need to put a drop of blood on the charm and let it sink in, then put it on."
Tom huffed and held out a hand. "Give me one of your knives."
Harry pulled up his sleeve and pulled the knife on his left forearm out of its sheath to hand over. Tom nicked his finger and handed the knife back as he held the wound over the charm. Once a drop of blood had fallen, he stuck his finger in his mouth, and Harry had to look away to hide another smile, helplessly in love with the absent little mannerisms that the Dark Lord was usually too controlled to let slip.
As soon as the blood had completely soaked in, Tom put the necklace on. Harry absently conjured a mirror, watching as the blank plate began to twist and reform, becoming the letters T.M.R. in the same very careful lettering that Harry remembered from Tom's diary. Tom raised his eyebrows at the necklace, then looked up at Harry.
"Change into Marcus," Harry directed.
Tom closed his eyes and did so, black hair fading away to light brown peppered with grey, his face filling out, and his whole body seeming to sink down into the couch. Even as he changed, the necklace began to shift, reforming into the letters M.D.B. – Marcus Dustof Brutús, Harry knew – in the lazy scrawl that the Dark Lord used when correcting assignments.
"I admit to being impressed," Marcus said, staring at the necklace's reflection. He reached up to touch it, fingers tracing over the silver letters. He glanced up at Harry, golden-brown eyes fond. "How illegal is this?"
"Restricted," Harry insisted and Marcus laughed. "The spells were in one of the books Mad-Eye gave me which need special dispensation to purchase. It's supposed to be a bracelet for aurors who have to go under cover with polyjuice, so they can keep track of who they are, but it works with the metamorphmagus gift, too, so long as the form you've changed into has a name it can use."
Marcus smiled at him. "Clever spellwork. Thank you, Harry."
Harry could tell the Dark Lord honestly liked the gift via their bond, so he vanished the mirror and relaxed. "You're welcome." He glanced towards the clock hung near the door, checking that it was after midnight. "Happy Christmas, Tom," he offered, looking back at where the other wizard had returned to his normal form.
Tom reached out and caught Harry's left hand in his, folding their fingers together comfortably. "Happy Christmas, Harry." His eyes glinted, mischief sparking against Harry's mind. "Now, what am I getting for my birthday?"
Harry laughed and stood, using their interlocked hands to pull Tom to his feet. "You'll see soon enough," he promised.
Tom snorted and tugged Harry into a hug. "Are you leaving me for bed?"
"Yeah. Ron's going to wake me up first thing, and I'd like to get at least a couple hours sleep first." He rolled his eyes and looked up at the Dark Lord. "Not all of us can keep people away all morning on account of our terrifying temper."
Tom smirked. "More's the pity for you," he teased before leaning down and brushing his lips gently against Harry's. "Pleasant dreams, Harry."
Harry reached up with his left hand to brush against Tom's cheek and found his eyes drawn to the gleam of his new ring. "I'm sure they will be," he offered and Tom's eyes danced. "Good night, Tom."
Tom pressed his lips to Harry's again, then led him to the door, waiting until Harry'd put his Cloak back on before opening the door to let him out.
Sleep came surprisingly easily to Harry once he got back to his room.
It wasn't Ron who woke Harry that morning, in fact, but Hermione, who came bursting into his room calling, "How did you even find this?!"
Harry groaned into his pillow and turned his head just enough to squint out at her. "Find what, 'Mione?" he mumbled.
Hermione kindly held out his glasses to him, then held up the journal he'd got her for him to see once he'd slipped them on. It had been written by one of Grindelwald's lieutenants, covering a period of four years before Grindelwald's defeat, as well as the year of his defeat.
Harry smiled and shook his head. "Knockturn Alley," he admitted. He'd actually seen it over the summer, during one of his trips with Tom, and bought it on a whim. When he'd found out Hermione had decided to focus on that period of time for History of Magic, he'd known he would be giving her the book for Christmas, whether he got around to reading it beforehand or not.
Hermione's expression twisted, trapped somewhere between disapproving and ecstatic.
"Say thank you, Hermione," Ginny called from the doorway, laughter in her voice.
Hermione huffed and gave in. "Thank you, Harry. This is...so unbelievably perfect."
"You're welcome," Harry promised as he sat up and looked towards the pile of brightly-wrapped gifts sitting at the foot of his bed. "Now go away so I can see what I got."
Hermione and Ginny both laughed and Harry's door was pulled closed as Hermione left.
Harry got the pretty much expected haul of sweets, pranks, and bookish items from his Gryffindor friends, as well as his yearly jumper from Mrs Weasley. From the Slytherins, however, he found a bracelet and four charms with a note written in Draco's neat scrawl:
'This is a magical charm bracelet from a shop Pansy frequents. As girlish as it might seem to wear a bracelet, these charms are very real and very good. We got together to purchase them for you, Granger, Weasel, and Weaslet because we figured you could all do with a bit of extra protection in the manor.
'The green vial protects against most poisons, and warns if one it doesn't protect against is nearby. The charm that looks like a blast will block the most low-level neutral spells learnt at Hogwarts, including Expelliarmus, Stupefy, and Petrificus Totalus (Pansy has a full list if you want to ask her for it). The silver ape allows you to look through most invisibility and disillusionment effects (there is an illegal invisibility spell that it can't see through, and it didn't work on you back in third year in Hogsmeade, for whatever reason). The question mark protects against the Obliviate spell (it's not hard to fake a vacant expression to convince the caster it worked).
'Happy Christmas'
Harry stared at the charm bracelet in surprise for a long moment before casting the spell to let him see magic. While he didn't understand most of the spells on the charms, he could tell for sure they were magical, and surprisingly powerful, by the shades of the spells' auras. He slipped the bracelet on as he ended the magical sight spell; he could test the bracelet by having his friends cast spells at him, or he could just wait until Tom woke up and have the Dark Lord verify it was what Draco'd said it was. (Not that he thought Draco would lead him false when he knew Harry was dating Voldemort, but he figured better safe than sorry. And Tom would almost certainly want to look it over, the protective bastard.)
With the last of his gifts opened, Harry climbed out of bed and pulled out his new dress robes. He changed into them quickly, made sure his knives and wand were all comfortably in place, then went out to remind his friends they needed to dress up for the day.
Ron and Ginny had forgotten they needed to change into their robes, but Hermione was dressed and fighting with her hair when she let Harry in. "I was having trouble getting Sleekeazy's Hair Potion," she admitted a bit helplessly.
"As amazing as you looked that night, you hardly need to mirror it," Harry told her, gently taking the brush out of her hands before she could make her hair any more frizzy. "I mean, you always look amazing, 'Mione."
"Oh," Hermione whispered before hugging Harry tight enough that he thought, for a moment, that she was channelling Hagrid. "You're always so wonderful, Harry," she whispered, pulling away and rubbing at her eyes.
Harry didn't know much about hair, admittedly, but he knew Hermione would want to get it out of her face in some manner, and the first thing to come to mind that he thought he could manage was a braid. "Would you like me to try braiding it for you?"
She considered that for a moment, then sighed and led the way over to her bed. "You can't do any worse than my usual attempts," she told him.
"Thanks for the support," Harry muttered and she let out a bright laugh.
She walked him through the steps, and while he had to start again twice before he was happy with the beginning, she deemed the finished product more than satisfactory. "I'll just make you do it every day until you can manage it with your eyes closed," she joked as Harry set her brush on the vanity.
"How about not," Harry replied a bit helplessly.
"Come in!" Hermione called when someone knocked on her door, then she caught Harry's left hand and held it still so she could look at his ring. "Oh, I don't suppose you'd get much use out of knowing how to braid hair, would you?"
"Not particularly," Harry agreed, waving at where Ron and Draco were peeking in, Pansy just behind them. "Hi. Is Gin ready?"
Ron made a face. "She's doing girl things."
"Oh, don't think I won't curse you just because you're hiding behind some wards, Weasley," Pansy threatened. "Assuming Granger doesn't get to it first."
"You'll have to tell me which spells I can use on him first," Hermione called back cheerfully, shaking her wrist and making the bracelet she wore jingle quietly.
"I have the list in my room. Remind me to get it after breakfast."
There was a beat of silence while Hermione got up, then Draco snarled, "Merlin, Weasel, must you keep a troll in your stomach?"
"Oh dear," Hermione whispered as Harry hurried forward to get between Ron and Draco before things could escalate.
It was looking to be a most interesting day.
If Mad-Eye had been even a little soothed by the charm bracelet, he didn't show it. He did, however, teach Harry the illegal invisibility spell Draco had mentioned to hide the bracelet, insisting that the fewer people who knew he had it and what the charms were, the better for him. Harry, in full agreement, had insisted on casting the spell on Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Draco, and Pansy's bracelets as well. (Hermione hadn't even had the heart to complain about him knowing and using an illegal spell, and Harry couldn't tell if she'd just given up, or if she agreed about the necessity.)
Harry had made a habit of going by Tom's room each night for at least an hour after most of the manor had turned in, so the Dark Lord suspected absolutely nothing when he let Harry in the evening of the thirtieth.
"So," Tom said as Harry dropped his Cloak onto the chair that was next to the door, "what all do you have planned for tomorrow? Other than going by Fletch's."
Harry shrugged as he dropped onto the couch next to Tom. "Sleeping in and going to Lyon was all I'd really planned," he admitted as Tom pulled him closer. "Was there anywhere you wanted to go, or anything you wanted to do?"
"I'm sure it won't surprise you," Tom murmured against Harry's hair, "but I don't tend to celebrate my birthday, so I don't really have a list of things I'd like to do." He snorted. "Well, okay, I have a couple of things, but I suspect you wouldn't approve."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sorry, Tom. I just can't condone muggle torture."
Tom didn't laugh like Harry had expected. Instead, he pulled back and stared at Harry until the teen had turned to meet his eyes, frowning. "What about the torture of your cousin and his accomplices?" the Dark Lord asked completely seriously.
Harry felt his mouth go dry. "I–"
Tom brushed his fingers over Harry's jaw. "I don't like knowing they're out there, happy and free, while you're living with their crime." His eyes darkened. "And I very much don't appreciate knowing they touched what is mine."
It was such a Dark Lord sort of thing to say that Harry found himself laughing, leaning sideways and hiding his face against Tom's chest. Tom didn't say anything further, just wrapped his arms around Harry and held him close.
"It's funny," Harry said once he felt a little calmer, "but I was thinking that I wanted to leave that whole thing behind me." He pulled back and reached up to touch the necklace he'd given Tom, which he'd caught the Dark Lord wearing even as Voldemort, the bold L.V. shining against his pale skin. "You said we need to learn to live, to stop surviving." He forced himself to look up and meet Tom's uncertain gaze. "Your birthday present is for me to stay the night, sleep in the same bed. And we could cuddle or, or whatever. I just–"
Tom pressed a finger against Harry's lips, silencing him. "The last thing I want," he murmured, "is you forcing yourself because you want me happy."
Harry shook his head. "That's not what this is." He stood, feeling too restless, too on edge. "I mean, it is, a bit. Because I do want you happy, and I know you want more, but this is for me, too. Because I'm tired of any mention of intimacy reminding me of– of Dudley. I'm tired of feeling sick every time Shay teases me. I'm so damn tired of waking up after dreaming of you and not being able to–" He cut himself off, face flushing with embarrassment as he realised what he'd been saying.
Tom slowly stood and stepped forward, catching one finger under Harry's chin and making him look up. "You've been dreaming of me?" he murmured, eyes bright.
Harry was pretty sure he was reaching Ron-levels of red. "Tom," he whispered, uncertain if he was complaining or pleading for the Dark Lord to take the lead, to show Harry how this was supposed to go.
Tom stared at him for a long moment, not even a hint of teasing in his eyes. "The minute you start feeling uncomfortable," he murmured, "we stop."
'And,' Tom didn't have to say, 'I'll know if you're uncomfortable.'
"Okay," Harry agreed quietly, reaching for the hand that wasn't pressed under his chin and wrapping his fingers around it.
Tom leant in and caught Harry's mouth in a kiss that was so overwhelming, Harry had to grab for the other's shoulder or chance falling. An arm wrapped around his waist and amusement curled through the bond. "Too much?" Tom murmured against Harry's lips.
"Bastard," Harry breathed in response.
Tom pulled back enough that Harry could see his eyes as two separate objects, rather than a single eye blurred around the edges. "I suppose we'll have to move to the bed, lest we chance you falling and cracking your head," he teased, even as he gently led Harry backwards, towards where he knew the bed was.
Harry huffed at him and very purposefully started tugging on the row of buttons that held the Dark Lord's robe closed, earning him a warm chuckle.
When they reached the bed, Tom stopped to pull off Harry's glasses and set them aside on a table in reach. When Harry frowned at the impairment of his sight, Tom brushed his fingers against the corner of one eye. "You're a metamorphmagus, Harry; you don't need glasses to see."
Which was true – he hardly needed glasses for the little eyes he grew to keep watch on Mad-Eye or his friends when he had to turn his back – but he was so used to needing glasses. And, anyway, Tom had fixed those frames for him.
Still, he sighed and focussed on easing his impairment until the Dark Lord was in focus again, smiling fondly down at him. "I like those glasses," he muttered.
"I know. You can change them to just be plain glass and continue wearing them; no one need know you've fixed your sight."
"And when I forget that I need to put them on because I'm pretending I can't see without them?" Harry asked.
Tom sighed and pressed their foreheads together. "I would think that the benefit of not needing to stop and fix your eyes if you're caught without your glasses when you need them, far outweighs your need to pretend you never went looking for a spell to fix your vision."
Which was...an excellent point.
"We'll fix your glasses in the morning," Tom decided, clearly aware that he'd won, before he caught his fingers under Harry's shirt and smoothly pulled it up and over his head, Harry moving his arms up to keep it from catching under his arms or against either his knife or wand sheaths. "For now, I believe I have a gift to unwrap."
Harry flushed. "That was terrible, Tom."
"But accurate," Tom insisted, pushing Harry back towards the bed. While the teen climbed on, Tom pulled off his own robe, revealing dark trousers and the same skin-and-bones torso that Harry had. Both being metamorphmagi, the appearance was deceptive, but it was also honest; not bothering with physical perfection was very like saying 'I know I don't need to impress you'.
Harry let Tom push him down against the pillows when the Dark Lord joined him on the bed, the whole experience so utterly different from Dudley's attack, he barely even recalled that he had a reason to be uncertain.
"Your knives are spelled to remain in the sheath unless you pull them out?" Tom asked as he folded his right hand with Harry's left.
"Yeah. Same as my wand," Harry agreed.
Tom nodded. "Then we won't bother fighting with them," he decided before nipping gently at Harry's collarbone.
Harry heard himself let out a surprised sound, but it hadn't hurt and he found, when Tom did it again, that he didn't mind the touch of teeth. In fact, as Tom's fingers played against his side and over his ribs and Harry started to feel arousal pool in his stomach, he found that he distinctly liked the sensation of teeth gently pinching his skin.
"Tom," he whispered, reaching up and curling his free hand around Tom's shoulder, feeling the play of motion as the Dark Lord's fingers moved lightly against his skin.
Tom's gaze, when it met Harry's, was heated, pupils widened with a sort of lustful want that left Harry torn between arousal and embarrassment. A corner of Tom's mouth quirked with a knowing sort of smile, and the Dark Lord leant up to brush his lips against Harry's. "You make the most beautiful noises," he whispered, and Harry couldn't help but let out a helpless moan. Tom chuckled and brushed another kiss against his lips even as the hand pressing along his side dropped down to the waist of Harry's trousers, the question silent between them.
"Please," Harry whispered.
Tom let go of Harry's hand and easily stripped them both before manoeuvring them so they were resting on their sides, facing one another. Before Harry could question the change in position, Tom's hand wrapped firmly around his cock and he let out a strangled sort of whine.
"Relax," Tom murmured, and Harry let his head fall forward to press against the Dark Lord's chest.
Tom's hand left for a moment before returning with something extra pressed against one side, fingers sliding firmly over Harry while the other object twitched against him. When Harry peeked down between them, he found Tom's hand wrapped around both of their cocks. "Merlin," Harry breathed, arousal spiking at the sight, and Tom let out a chuckle that was a little too breathy.
It was too much and just enough all at once, and Harry closed his eyes and bit his lip against the noise that wanted to break free as pleasure sparked through him.
When Harry opened his eyes again, he looked down to find a mess of white drying between them, Tom clearly having come too. He peeked up at the Dark Lord and found Tom smiling at him, eyelids half-mast. "I'll clean us off in a moment," he murmured. "Then I vote we get some sleep."
Harry nodded and watched his hand as he brought it up to press against Tom's chest. "Was it okay?" he asked before wincing at his own uncertainty.
Tom tapped a finger against the underside of Harry's chin to make him look up, then pressed a firm kiss against his mouth. "It was perfect," he promised, and Harry couldn't help but believe him.
Once Tom had cleaned them both and they were curled up together under the covers, Harry burrowed comfortably against Tom's chest, the Dark Lord asked, "So, your cousin. Was that a no?"
Harry lightly knocked his forehead against Tom's collarbone. "Let me sleep on it," he decided.
Tom breathed a quiet laugh into his hair. "I'll ask you again in the morning."
In the end, Tom got to kill a couple of muggles for his birthday after all.
-0-0-0-0-0-
A/N: Okay, given this is the last chapter I have written (and the last one I expect to write), did people want me to post what notes I've been able to find about future events? (It's mostly stuff that would come up in the next couple of chapters, tbh, since I can't seem to find wherever I hid my long-term ideas. :/ ) Given, most people should have a general idea of where things are going, but it's also pretty clear I've changed some fair bit, so... *shrugs a lot and leaves it to readers to decide*
As a reminder, please resist the urge to beg for more, as I may well get annoyed and just yank the whole thing down. *stare*
~Bats ^.^x
Spell Explanations:
Circum Periculum -- meaning 'in the vicinity of danger' in Latin.
The basis of all protective wards. The default for this spell is a simple warning alert generating from the wand that cast the ward, which makes this a light spell, but altering the ward by adding a dark or neutral spell at the end of the spell turns it neutral and will cause that spell to be cast on anyone who trips the ward. In that case, it's up to the caster whether or not they still wish the alert to be generated.- Nega introitum aliis -- meaning 'deny entrance (to) others' in Latin.
A protective ward that keeps anyone not within the ward upon the time it's cast from entering it afterward. House-elves and animal familiars of the caster are able to pass through the ward even if they weren't within during the casting, but those familiars and house-elves of people given access are barred. Restricted. - Viso infrenaverunt -- meaning 'see runes' in Latin. Magical Sight
A light spell allowing the caster to see the runic make-up of any spells in the vicinity.
Abandon the Prequel: Sixth Year
Abandon chapter 01
Reclaim chapter One
Abandoned Chapters:
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || Nineteen ||
INCOMPLETE
.
