Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but neither do you. Now we're even!
A/N: WARNING: This chapter is all drama and romance. I'm sorry, but it had to happen. Just grin and bear it. It'll all be over soon. Oh, and P.S: This may contain … content … that is disturbing to some viewers. Viewer discretion is advised.
Pound. Pound. "Alohamora! Curses, that doesn't open it. You know what?" Bang!
Tom stumbled into the room, laughing and carrying a giggling Bobbi. "You didn't have to break the door," he teased.
"That's not the only thing I'll break," she said insinuatingly as the luggage hulled itself into the bedroom.
"Feisty, aren't you. I'm not sure I should allow such talk unless you can back it up."
"What do you propose we do, then? It is, after all, your choice," she reminded him.
"I want you to go to bed. You've had enough excitement for today."
She rolled her eyes at him, "Are you going to make me beg?"
"I would like that, yes. Beg for your forgiveness and perhaps I shall be merciful with you."
"You really want me to? Alright, but you brought this upon yourself." Still in his arms, she phased into a werewolf. Much too heavy for him, Tom dropped her, and she landed on her haunches. She sat up on her hind legs, straight-backed, and put her curved paws to her chest, more of a meerkat's stance than a dog's. She whimpered pitifully, tilting her head slightly, and dropped her forepaws to the floor. She gave him the most heartbreaking look until he finally caved.
"Alright," he laughed, "You don't have to go to sleep. Now change back."
Bobbi stuck out her tongue and licked his entire face.
"Gross, Bobbi!" Tom exclaimed, pulling his face away and wiping it on his sleeve.
She laid on her back and yipped. She stuck out her tongue and panted, wagging her tail. She yipped at him again.
"What do you want?" Tom asked. He wasn't really a dog person, and having his wife turn into one on their first night together as a married couple was not very appealing.
'Belly,' she said telepathically.
Tom chuckled, "You're not a real dog."
'Belly,' Bobbi repeated.
"No. You're supposed to obey me. That was the deal," Tom reminded her.
Bobbi raised her eyebrows, then rolled over and stood up, changing as she did so. "Oh, fine," she sighed, defeated. "So what are your orders, Master?"
"Don't call me Master tonight. I am your husband, not your slave driver."
"Ay, Captain Tom," she saluted him. Then she giggled and repeated, "What are your orders?"
"Drop and give me twenty," he ordered.
Bobbi began to do pushups, but Tom shook his head and said, "I meant twenty kisses."
"Oh, did you?" Bobbi rolled onto her back and joked, "Werewolf kisses, you mean?"
Tom laughed and shook his head.
"Well, I don't see how I can kiss you if you remain standing," Bobbi hinted. She patted the floor beside her, "Come on down. The wood is nice and warm. Not dirty at all."
"What if I want something a little more cushioned?" Tom hinted, glancing at the bedroom.
Bobbi patted her stomach. "Belly," she repeated.
Tom raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"
"Sit," she explained, patting her stomach.
Tom snorted a laugh, then shrugged and knelt beside her. "To bed I said."
Bobbi giggled. "Cheater. You know I'm a softy for rhymes." She stood and pulled him up beside her.
He swept her off her feet, cradling her in his arms against his chest like on those hokey old romances. "It is our first night together as a married couple. We are going to use the bed."
"As you wish," she surrender.
…
The next morning, they woke up together, wrapped in each other's arms.
Bobbi breathed in deeply, then snuggled into him. Tom laughed quietly, holding her closer. "Good morning, Bobbi," he whispered.
"Good morning, Tom," she cooed.
Simultaneously, their tummies rumbled. Bobbi groaned. "I guess we better get up and eat."
But as she was pushing herself up, Tom pulled her back down on top of himself. "Just one minute," and he began kissing her.
But as their lips met, both of their stomachs roared loudly. Bobbi sniggered, "What a mood killer."
Tom sighed, "Alright. We'll get up."
"I don't think I'll allow it now," Bobbi confided as she began to kiss him. But again they were interrupted immediately. "Oh, fine," she huffed, lifting herself up and out of the bed. Tom followed her lead. They made their way into the kitchen. Tom wrapped his forearms around Bobbi's waist and rested his chin atop her head as they walked.
"What's for breakfast?" he asked.
"You," she replied, turning and knocking him to the floor, but managing to land him softly on a displaced couch cushion. She pinned him under her pixie-like body and brought her face mere inches from his. Smiling, she joked, "You're so cute, I could just eat you up."
"I don't taste nearly as good as I look," he joked, then added, "However, I'm sure you are delicious." His stomach growled.
They laughed together, then Bobbi got up and helped him to his feet. "Alright, let's eat," she said, "I'll make bacon and eggs. Would that be good for you?"
"Sounds delish," he answered in a valley-girl voice. They laughed again. "It feels so great to be able to joke around without anyone judging me for it," Tom gushed, "You know, I've never had this much fun before, not even when I was a kid. I was so miserable all my life. That is, until you came along."
"Oh, stop it," Bobbi blushed.
"But it's true," Tom continued, "I grew up as an orphan. All the other kids hated me and teased me. They called me Halfie and other mean things."
"Why 'Halfie'?" Bobbi asked, stopping her preparation to look at him.
"Well," Tom bit his lip and scratched his shoulder embarrassedly, "My father was… a… Muggle."
Bobbi gaped at him, slack-jawed for a moment, then gathered herself and commented, "That makes no sense. If you are half-blood, then why are you so severe against Muggles and Muggle-borns?"
"Because I hated my father," he answered with venom, "He made my mother go crazy when he left her."
Bobbi pulled out a chair for him, "Tell me all about it."
So Tom told Bobbi the story of his heritage, how he was the last descendant of Salazar Slitherin still alive, how he became an orphan, everything.
When he finished, Bobbi embraced him comfortingly. "How terrible! I am so sorry; I didn't know how bad you'd had it. If there is anything I can do -"
"Please don't tell anyone," he whispered past the emotional lump in his throat.
"Of course not," she swore, "I wouldn't do that to you."
"Thank you, Bobbi. You truly are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Without you I am nothing. I lived in darkness until I met you, but now I see the light."
Restrain yourself, Bobbi! she commanded her mind, You cannot start singing 'You Light Up My Life.' This is a very serious moment. Restrain yourself! Aloud, she whispered, "That's so sweet, Tom. I love you."
"I love you, too, so much more than I could ever show you. But I don't deserve you one bit. I'm not good enough for you. I've done terrible things to innocent people, and yet I end up marrying an angel. I was so consumed by hate, I almost didn't realize what I had when you joined the Death Eaters. Did you know I used to hate you? When you first arrived at the Lair, I couldn't stand that you were so annoyingly chipper. I loathed and envied you. But when I started to spend time with you, I realized I needed you in more ways than one. Not only are you my best fighter, but you are my best friend. You are my soul mate. You are my other half, my better half, everything I'm not, and I feel complete when I'm with you, like nothing bad can happen as long as you are in my arms. I love you, Bobbi."
"Oh, you're making me cry," she admitted, hugging him tighter. She cleared her throat. "Tom. I don't care what you've done or what you do. I'm here forever because I love you. You don't think much of yourself, but know this. You mean the world to me, you are my bliss. I was blind, but now I see; eres todo para mi."
Tom chuckled, "Did you think that all up just now?"
"Yeah," Bobbi chuckled guiltily, "I'm such a freak, I think in rhymes."
"You're not a freak, Bobbi," Tom scolded softly, "Don't you ever think that."
They hugged in silence for a long moment. Bobbi broke it, "Tom? Can I tell you a secret?"
"Of course, Bobbi. Tell me anything."
"Promise you won't freak out or tell anyone else?" she whimpered the question.
"I promised, Bobbi. What is it?"
"I, um, kinda lied to you about my age. When I told you I was born in '58 and that I'm 50 years old, I left out a few digits."
"What do you mean?" He pulled back to look her in the face. Tears were swimming in her eyes.
She looked away and half-grinned guiltily, "It's kind of dumb, really, but," she looked the other way, avoiding his eyes, "I'm not just 50."
She paused. Tom gently took her chin and brought her eyes to him, "Continue."
"Well… I'm 350. I was born in 1658. My mom died shortly after I was born because I-" she took a deep breath, "I broke her spine. I didn't do it on purpose, but carrying a half-vampire fetus is dangerous because we can't control our own strength at such a young age. Still, when my mother died after having me, her tribe chased my father and me out of their territory. My mother was the Alfa female and pack leader. She was the strongest werewolf in the region and surrounding regions, too. She was also pureblood witch, which increased her power.
"Since I was also half werewolf, I could grow and mature. But when I reached 18, my point of maturity, I stopped growing, as vampires are prone to do. Yet for some odd reason, I can still reproduce. I guess that's the werewolf warrior in me, fighting for fertility.
"A couple years after I reached maturity, we returned to Italy. Swam all the way there. We stayed there for a long time before we returned to America. I knew the English language because Dad thought it would be a good idea for me to know it, too. When they established a wizard boarding school in America, we decided to set up more permanent residence nearby, and he sent me to school. We had done a lot of traveling before we settled in America. After school, Dad decided he wanted to stay where he was because he was tired of moving all the time. But I was still pretty young and restless and I wanted to go exploring more. So I did that for awhile. Then I returned, did the thing with Ryan, and set off again. You know the rest."
Tom gazed at her, not sure what to say. Millions of questions swam in his mind. Where else have you been? Did you ever go to Hogwarts? How many languages do you speak? But two in particular nagged at him. He started with the easiest one, "How are you immortal?"
Bobbi smirked, "Well, I'm not entirely sure. I think it's mostly the vampire-thing, but there are some things that I have survived that other normal vampires can't, so it might be that I was born a vampire so I'm more powerful. One vampire-scientist-friend of my dad thought that my extremely rare gene of being half vampire, half werewolf, and 200% witch is the reason, and that absolute immortality is just another perk. Of course, there are certain drawbacks of my gene. I can never die, which could become a pain in the distant future. I'm also infertile with other vampires and werewolves."
That really provoked the second question. "So you've tried to get pregnant by other men before?" Tom inquired.
Bobbi sighed and looked away, "You're not my first or second husband, Tom. My marriages never lasted long. Most of my husband only wanted one thing, and when we got tired of each other, I just left. I didn't marry for love back then. I married for convenience, but when it was no longer convenient, our relationship was over. Oh, and if you're wondering, Stella is my only child."
"What I'm wondering is," Tom took a deep, unsteady breath, "Why did you marry me?"
Bobbi's jaw dropped in shock, then trembled from hurt, "Tom, I - when I say I love you, I mean it. I told you I didn't used to marry for love. And our marriage isn't convenient at all. I only married you because I love you. Why would you think-?"
"Well, you told that boy - oh, what's his name? The one who is Goyle's son."
"Gregory," Bobbi supplied.
"Yes, Gregory. You told Gregory that you prey on men who have no hope for happiness, and with what you've just told me, I thought I might be just another one of your charity cases."
"Did Gregory tell you I said that?"
"No. Snape told me that you told Gregory that."
"How did Snape know?"
"Gregory told him. Apparently everyone trusts Snape with personal information. He could be the downfall of us all. But that's not important right now. Back to my question."
"Tom, I only told Gregory that so he would stop pestering me. I was trying to make him feel like he deserved better than me so that he would move on. You are NOT my charity case. You are my soul mate and I love you. Do you know why I kept my utter immortality a secret from you? Because I don't want you to feel like I'm a threat to your throne. I want you to feel good about your powers, about yourself. And I didn't want you to feel stupid for -" she cut off abruptly.
"For what?" he pushed.
"No, I don't want to say it. It's mean."
"I can handle it. Continue."
"No, I'll feel guilty for saying it because it is cruel."
"Bobbi, just say it. I need to know why you lied."
Bobbi sighed, "Fine. But you're gonna hate me afterward."
"Quit stalling and tell me," he insisted.
She sighed again, "I didn't want you to feel stupid for being suicidal over my death when I couldn't have died anyway."
"No, actually I should be mad at you for not telling me sooner because we could have avoided all of this."
"I did tell you I was immortal. Everyone knew I was immortal. I explained to everyone as soon as I joined the Death Eaters that I was a vampire and therefore immortal. But no one believed me, as usual. You all doubted my powers even after I proved them. You didn't even believe me until I got hit by the Killing Curse and lived. So, I did inform you that I was immortal, though I didn't tell you the full extent of my immortality. But nonetheless, I did tell you, so you can't get mad at me, and I'm really hungry." Bobbi ended her rant and stared at her stomach. It growled furiously several times. She hopped off of Tom's lap and picked up her cooking from where she left off. "The glasses are in that cabinet, I think; be a dear and make us both drinks."
"Aren't we going to continue our discussion?" he asked after a minute of silence.
"I really like this stove. It cooks the food faster than my dad's stove. His takes forever to heat up," she commented, ignoring his question and continuing her cooking.
Irritated, Tom made drinks for the two of them in silence, thinking that maybe she would respond if he did his part. After another minute of silence, Tom began, "I said-" but he was cut off by Bobbi's cackling. Angrily, he yelled, "This isn't funny! This is serious!"
Still laughing, Bobbi turned off the stove and placed the hot eggs and bacon on the table. She sat down in her seat, smiling and shaking her head. When he did not sit back down, she looked up at him with a smile, "Tom, sit down and enjoy breakfast with me. This is our honeymoon; we are not an old married couple and therefore should not fight as such. If you feel we have more to discuss, we can discuss it later when we're not cranky from hunger."
Tom cracked a smile and shook his head. Calmly, he sat back down. "I remember when I could get whatever I wanted with words," he chuckled, then added, "And yet I wasn't nearly as talented as you."
"Oh, you're making me blush," she giggled.
They enjoyed breakfast together. When they had finished, they sat down on the couch. "So, what did you want to say?" Bobbi prompted when they were situated.
"I'm not gonna say it. It was stupid and irrational, and I overreacted. I broke my promise; I did freak out. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too, Tom. I'm not a very good person, and I should have warned you, but I love you so much, I was afraid that I would scare you off. I'm sorry. I should have trusted you. Let's enjoy the rest of our honeymoon."
"What would you like to do?" he asked.
"Oh, I know who I wanna do," she giggled.
A/N: This is the end of Chapter 11. Please feel free to leave a comment. I love them.
