He arrived in Seattle in just under five hours, and by the time he made his way through the hotel's busy lobby and up to the twentieth floor, he had mere seconds to spare. Mark had accompanied him but he'd told him to wait downstairs and not do anything.
He suspected it was one of the hardest things Mark had to do, and Harry understood. But this was his fight, and Andrew was already caught up in it. He couldn't let things escalate for the people he cared about.
In front of door number two on the twentieth floor, Harry paused, fist resting against the door. His belly was in knots. He'd felt like this only once before.
When he'd been trying to rescue Fenrir.
The truth of it made him grunt. No escaping this. He took a deep breath. Knocked once, and the door opened for him.
He stepped inside, and was immediately shoved into the wall. Quick hands patted him down, removing the gun in his waist, the knives strapped around his wrists and a dagger his boot. He didn't speak, and he kept still, eyes glued to the white wall.
He didn't hear Tom, but Harry felt him.
Close by. Tom had to be close because the hairs on Harry's body were already standing on end as though pulled by magnets. The men yanked him around, and Harry found himself facing the opulent hotel room.
Tom stood at the windows, his back to the room.
Harry stared at him, the dark hair brushing his collar, the black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms covered in dark hair. He was everything Harry remembered, and more. Tall and built, powerful standing there in the silence, against the sheer drapes at the windows.
"Lucius"
Tom spoke without turning around,
"Please accompany our visitor next door."
Before he finished speaking, a gun was at Harry's head. Lucius waved a hand, and Harry started walking. He bided his time, until he knew Andrew was safe, then he and Tom would talk.
He fisted his hands. All the things Tom did to get Harry here and now he wouldn't even turn around to look him in the eye? They definitely had to talk.
Luciusopened an adjoining room, and motioned Harry inside. He rolled his eyes and stepped over the threshold. He stopped short when he spotted the two figures, hands tied behind their backs, tapes over their mouth.
Damn it. He hadn't known that Tom had taken Andrew's mother as well.
Andrew spotted him first, and his eyes went wide. Harry reached him in two strides and ripped the tape off. Andrew winched.
"Are you okay?"
He turned to Lucius who just stood there, gun in hand,
"I kept up my end of the bargain. Untie them."
Lucius just stared at him.
"Untie them, Lucius,"
Tom's voice came from the other room,
"The man is right. He did keep up his end of the bargain."
He was cool. This Tom was the one Harry got to know first. The one he'd watched from the shadows.
He'd never dealt with this Tom before though.
He looked forward to it, but first…
With everybody untied, Andrew jumped to his feet, grimacing as he rubbed his chafed wrist,
"I'm sorry, Andrew."
He turned to Andrew's mother, taking both her hand in his,
"How are you?"
She slapped him, eyes flashing her familiar contempt as she snapped,
"You put my son in danger again."
Andrew spoke loudly,
"Mom."
Harry smiled, ignoring his stinging cheek,
"I'm glad you're safe."
He motioned to Andrew,
"Go."
Andrew narrowed his eyes,
"And you?"
"I have business with Mr. Voldemort."
Andrew argued,
"I don't think…"
Harry cut him off sharply,
"Take your mother and get out of here, Andrew. Let me handle this. It's an order."
Andrew's head fell in resignation, so Harry continued,
"Mark is downstairs. I had to threaten to shoot him to keep him from coming with me. He'll take you back to New York."
Andrew pursed his lips,
"I'm worried about you. What are you going to do?"
He had no clue, so Harry simply shrugged. Andrew watched him closely,
"He doesn't hate you, you know."
Harry didn't know anything anymore, not when it came to Tom.
"I don't think you hate him either."
"I don't know what I feel, Andrew."
"Don't you?"
Andrew's lips curved,
"I think you know how you both feel, and you're afraid."
He nodded toward the door,
"You and him."
He wasn't dignifying that with a response. Mostly because he didn't have one,
"Go. They won't touch you."
He hugged Andrew, pressed a kiss to his temple,
"I can handle him. Just take care of your mother."
Andrew searched his face before finally nodding. He left but with great reluctance. Harry stood in the middle of the room, hands at his sides, as Andrew and his mother exited the room. When the door closed behind him, he realized fully what he'd done.
He had weaknesses again.
He had somethings, so many somethings to lose again, and he hadn't even realized it until now. When silence greeted him, he made his way to the room next door. The one where Tom waited.
He remained at the window; arms spread wide as he gripped the railing. His bodyguards had all disappeared. No guns, nothing but them.
"Tom."
If he sounded unsure, if he sounded lost, if he sounded as unsettled as he felt, Harry didn't care.
Tom turned away from the window. His face was a smooth façade, devoid of anything resembling an expression. But just the sight of him sent Harry's senses reeling.
"You for them."
"Yes…"
If he'd doubted it before, there was no denying it this time. Heat pooled in his groin, and his belly tightened with each step Tom took toward him. He felt awake, after a long time asleep. Alive, after such a long time being dead with Fenrir.
Thinking of Fenrir cooled him down some, until Tom touched him. A palm to Harry's cheek. He trembled under that touch. So simple, yet so not. The prelude to more.
He wanted more, so he leaned into Tom's palm.
"Goddamn it."
As Harry watched, Tom' mask crumpled,
"It's still there."
He grabbed Harry by the throat, yanking him closer,
"It's still there. You're still there."
Harry didn't ask him what "it" was. He already knew.