Chapter 59

The Order of the Phoenix

"Huh, a ministry official was killed by her house-elf," Tom commented as he read the morning paper. "Did you see this?" he asked Harry. They were sitting at their kitchen table having breakfast that Harry made.

"No, what happened?" Harry asked curiously.

"A woman named Delores Umbridge was found dead in her cottage," Tom said, looking back at the newspaper. "They found her in her cottage dead on the floor and her house-elf holding a wand. The door wasn't broken into and the house-elf all but confessed. Such a shame, she must have been treating her house-elf especially horribly."

Harry hummed and nodded, "Oh! I forgot to tell you, Cedric and George sent me a letter. They came out to their parents!"

"Good for them, how did they take it?" Tom asked.

"George told me that Mrs. Weasley cried but then tried to smother him and Cedric in a hug, so I think it went well," Harry said. "But it also was in the letter telling me that I couldn't go to the Burrow this summer. Apparently, Dumbledore moved them to someplace… more secure but they also said something about seeing me soon."

"Odd," Tom said, looking concerned. "What is the old fool planning?"

"I don't know," Harry sighed. "All I know is that they're someplace, but Dumbledore told them specifically that they're not allowed to tell me where they are. From the sounds of it, all the Weasleys are there along with Granger."

"Sounds completely horrible," Tom drawled.

Harry nodded and gave a yawn. For all of July, he and Tom have spent every waking moment together. He loved it. From when they woke up to when they fell asleep, they were together. Going on dates, listening to reports from the Knights about their allies, and even just relaxing together as they explore their grounds and the town. The Knights of Walpurgis have been busy. They had diplomats sent to the various creatures to talk about possible alliances. Their more brutal Knights were sent to envoy with the Giants while they had a Knight called Yaxley to go talk with the Vampires. The werewolves were already their allies thanks to a man called Fenrir Greyback.

Harry remembered the first time he met the man, he thought that the man was dreadfully violent and someone that they shouldn't associate with. Especially when the man, not realizing that Harry was there, kept going on weirdly enough about children. It made Harry feel horrible and he spent the rest of the night talking with another werewolf that Fenrir brought with him.

This werewolf was a man who looked alright, handsome even, named Orion Moonstone. Weird name in Harry's opinion, but he was a nice guy and someone he much preferred over Fenrir. He told Tom as much as soon as the two left. "I just think that Orion is a better align with our views," Harry said as they relaxed in their bed. "Greyback just seems like a crazed killer to me, no offense."

"I understand that Harry, however, we need to consider that Fenrir holds great sway and influence with the werewolves, mostly because he was the one who turned them, while that other person, Moonstone, is a greenhorn by comparison," Tom said.

"Yeah but if we have Moonstone it'll be easier to work with the group and we can show the others that werewolves are just people," Harry argued. "Fenrir does unspeakable things to children."

"Yes he does have certain qualities that are rather… unforgivable, however until we see a better way to get the werewolves' trust, he is needed," Tom explained. "But don't worry Harry, the second we have their trust, we will kill Greyback. He is our only connection to the werewolves, for now, so we must use him until we make more friends, which I have our knights doing. Relax my love, he will not live past July."

"I'm holding you to it," Harry warned, and Tom kept his word. The Knights and the werewolves had multiple meetings throughout the month, some of which Harry attended. He always looked for Orion and spent most of it with him, even introducing Orion to a nosed-Dark Lord, who glamoured himself to look like he was an older man. The two got along, and Harry was pleased to hear that their Knights were getting along with the werewolves as well. Things were progressing so well that, when Fenrir Greyback mysteriously died on the day before his birthday, the werewolves and Knights got together to "mourn" his death and pick a new leader after they talked about the Knights' goals and aspirations.

The day after was Harry's birthday, and Harry and Tom spent most of it in bed exploring each other's bodies, and Tom doting on Harry as he taught him many techniques. It was a good and very satisfying day for both boys.

Which led to today, the day after his birthday, where he and Tom were sitting at their breakfast table. Harry was feeling a little fem and ambitious, also he did not feel like wearing pants on that hot, hot day, so he was wearing one of the skirts that Pansy made for him along with a matching shirt. "So what do you want to do today, love?" Tom asked.

"Not much," Harry groaned. "All my friends are busy, so it's just us again, not that I don't mind. So maybe just tending to the garden for a bit before lounging with you? I can be a dog," Harry chuckled.

"Dog, owl, or boy, you know I'll always dote on you," Tom purred, and he kissed Harry's neck for emphasis. Harry giggled and rolled his eyes as he turned so they could kiss properly.

"Yeah but when I'm a dog your scratches just feel so much better," he teased and winked at Tom. They laughed and finished their breakfast with Harry leaning against Tom, Tom's hand idly scratching the top of his head.

"Well it's a good thing that you're always such a good boy," Tom chuckled. He gave Harry one final scratch before pulling him up to kiss him properly. "I have something real quick to finish," he said, "I'm just going over the list of our followers in Azkaban."

"Alright, sounds boring," Harry said. He stood up and stretched. "I'll be in the garden then." He left the kitchen and made his way outside where there were two huge gardens. One was colorful, filled with different species of flowers of various colors that all blended together in waves of uniformity, making it look like a spiraling rainbow from an owl's eye view, while the other was filled with herbs and potion ingredients that the house-elves mainly take care of. Harry took his time to survey both, walking through the herb garden to check on the progress and harvest anything that was ready. He had a house-elf help him hold the baskets for the herbs, telling it to store them in jars.

Harry and the house-elf were halfway done gathering the herbs and ingredients from the garden when another house-elf appeared looking extremely panicky. "Master Harry, Master Harry!"

"What is it Zanpy?" Harry asked.

"There's a man Master Harry! A man is screaming at Master Tom!" the house-elf said. "Zanpy tried to turn the man away but he walked in anyway, he wants you!"

Harry frowned as he stood up and dusted his pants. "Where are they?"

"In the foyer."

"Okay, I'll deal with it, can you two finish harvesting and jarring? I want the parsley especially for dinner tonight. Thank you," Harry said already walking back into the house. As soon as he stepped in, he didn't need to wait long until he heard two voices arguing.

"MR. ADLER I WILL NOT ARGUE WITH YOU OVER THIS!" an unfortunately familiar voice roared. "THIS IS FOR HARRY'S SAFETY!"

Harry ran towards the voices and ended up in the foyer as the house-elf said and stopped almost immediately. In front of him was Professor Dumbledore wearing light blue robes and his eyes looking very crossed at Tom, or at least at the glamour of Tom that made him look like he was in his forties. They were both glaring at each other and had not noticed Harry yet.

"I am not letting you take my son from me, Dumbledore, I do not care how many times you say this. This is Harry's home. He belongs here!" Tom argued.

"He is not safe here, Mr. Adler," Dumbledore threw back, "As I keep telling you time and time again in ignored letters—"

"I do not ignore your letters, they make for excellent kindling, my good man," Tom said, chuckling darkly. "There is no problem in the world that my home's enchantments cannot protect my boys from."

"Yes, there is," Dumbledore said. "Lord Voldemort is back."

"You're barking."

"No, sir, I am not," Dumbledore said gravely. "Harry is not safe here. He would not even be safe with his family—"

"I am his family," Tom said shortly.

"No, you are not. Harry needs to come back with me, I can bring him somewhere safe—"

"Where?" Tom demanded. "Where is this place that is so magically safer than his home with his family?"

"I cannot tell you," Dumbledore said, standing a little bit taller.

"Cannot or will not?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Both."

"Why?"

"Because the place is the headquarters of a group of like-minded individuals like myself who have sworn to fight Voldemort," Dumbledore said.

"Who is not back," Tom said, "Listen, you are welcome to turn yourself blue going on about this insanity that You-Know-Who is back, however you will not drag my son's name through the mud with you! I have already spent countless days and nights with both the Daily Prophet and Ministry clearing my son's name."

"So you do not believe him then? Your own son when he says that Voldemort is back," Dumbledore argued, smirking smugly.

"He told me that he did not want to talk about that night and I am respecting his request for privacy, headmaster. Something that Britain has seem to forget," Tom said.

"Then we will ask him ourselves. Harry, what happened that night of the third task?" Dumbledore asked, turning to Harry. Tom turned as well and Harry's face immediately went red. He stood awkwardly for a moment before moving towards them. Tom immediately lifted an arm and Harry went to him so that Tom could wrap an arm around his shoulders protectively.

"Harry," he said gently, "what happened on the night you didn't want to tell us about?" Harry looked between the two of them.

"It's alright Harry, you can tell us," Dumbledore said.

Harry stared down at his feet and he felt the hand on his shoulder tighten. He looked up at Tom who nodded shortly. "I saw him," Harry whispered. "Voldemort. I was scared because I didn't want to scare you or Tom, daddy."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow for just a moment but it disappeared quickly. "You see, Mr. Adler. Harry is not safe here, Voldemort is back. He will be much safer with me and my organization's headquarters."

"A headquarters you refuse to tell me," Tom argued. "And would refuse to bring me."

"I must for security reasons," Dumbledore said roughly. "Harry must come alone."

"I will not allow it," Tom said shortly.

"You fool! You endanger Harry! Is that what you want?" Dumbledore yelled. "Every second he spends he is another second that Voldemort and his Death Eaters have a chance to kill him! This madman wants Harry dead, sir, dead! If you have any iota of love and sense for him you would let me take him away to someplace safe. As long as he is here, this house will have a target and all of its occupants are in mortal danger."

"All of its occupants, you say?" Tom said.

"Yes sir. All, including you and your son."

Tom looked thoughtful for a moment. His arm curled tighter around Harry as he did so and Harry had to do his best to keep their position platonic between him and his 'father.' "You will bring my son as well," he said.

"Absolutely not, your son is of age—"

"And he and Harry are bonded," Tom said shortly. "They are to be wed when Harry is old enough."

Dumbledore's calm expression turned almost murderous. "What are you saying?" he demanded. "Harry is only fifteen! You forced your son upon him?"

"No, their relationship was of their own making," Tom said calmly. "Harry will be my son both through adoption and marriage. And so I will not allow him to leave this house! If you are insistent on taking my boy away from me, you will take my son and his betrothed as well."

"No," Dumbledore said.

"Then Harry is staying here. He and Tom have spent ten months separated because of your school. I will not allow you to cut into their precious time anymore," Tom said stubbornly. "They have their lives together, but right now their time together is precious as well. Besides, my son would want to protect Harry with all his might."

"Then where is he?" Dumbledore asked.

"In town buying groceries," Tom answered simply. "Or do you think we actually have our house-elves do everything for us?"

Dumbledore stared at Tom for a moment, as if he did not believe him. Tom met his stare and kept a solid grip on Harry. Harry's face returned to its normal color, and his heated embarrassment turned into a cold dread. Would he recognize Tom? Read his memories? What if they fight? Would he figure out Tom's true identity that way? The two men kept staring for a long moment until, after what felt like an eternity, Dumbledore sighed. "Very well," he muttered. "Someone will be here around night to collect both Harry and your son."

"Good," Tom said, giving Dumbledore a polite smile but Harry could just hear the smugness in his voice. "They will be greeted as guests. Have a good day, Professor Dumbledore."

"Mr. Adler," Dumbledore said shortly, giving him a short nod before turning to Harry. "I will see you later, Harry."

Harry just nodded and the two watched the old man walk away. They waited until they were sure he was gone before Tom spun Harry around and kissed him hard and needing, both moaning as their hands started exploring the others' bodies. Tom felt so hard, so strong, his body engulfing his. "Tom," he moaned.

"I think you're looking for 'Daddy,'" Tom chuckled. "Come on love, we have plenty of time before we have to go, why don't you give Daddy a special goodbye." They both grinned and in a swirl, they were transported back to their bed, their clothes gone. Harry was in heaven under the large mass of muscles as he and Tom embraced, their bodies coming together his "Daddy" bred him until Harry was sure his brain was turning into mush with each spurt of cum and thrust of Tom's thick cock.

When they were done, the two cuddled as they waved their hands, two trunks packing themselves.

After dinner, there was a knock on their door and both Harry and Tom opened the door to reveal a young woman around Tom's age. She had a pale heart-shaped face with dark twinkling eyes and short spiky hair that was bubblegum pink. Next to her was a stony-faced dark-skinned man wearing Auror Robes.

"Wotcher Harry," the girl grinned, "I'm Tonks, and this is Kingsley." She thrust her hand in front of him and Harry shook it slowly. "We're here to escort you two to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

"I'm Tom," Tom said, stepping forward, "Harry's boyfriend."

Tonks turned and smiled at him, they shook hands.

"Do you have everything packed?" Kingsley asked, his voice deep and slow.

"Yes," Tom answered.

"Good."

"How are we getting there?" Tom asked. He looked up at the sky and wondered idly how it has gotten dark so quickly. "I suppose Apparation is out of the question."

"Nah, wouldn't want to chance it," Tonks said, "I heard you're a good flyer, Harry? Hope you're good as well Tom." She moved to the side and pointed to two brooms that were hovering just outside. There were also a few other people, all holding brooms.

"I'm decent," Tom said, staring at the broom with ire. "However it is my love who is the flyer."

"Don't worry, we'll go slow for you," Tonks said. "Help me get the trunks attached to the brooms and we'll be off."

The boys nodded and helped Tonks and Kingsley attach his and Tom's trunks between four brooms, two each, and Harry got his own Nimbus 2001. He looked at Tom, wondering what he would ride, and held in a gasp to see that he was holding a sleek broom with black wood and thistles. Tom smirked and winked at Harry as he swung a leg over.

It was a dark and clear night. They all mounted their brooms and waited. Far, far above, a shower of bright red sparks had flared among the stars. Harry recognized them as wand sparks. Green sparks shot up a moment later and they all pushed off. The cool night air rushed through his hair as the large expanse of his home fell away, shrinking rapidly along with Little Hangleton until they all looked like little patchworks in a quilt. Harry looked over his shoulder to see Tom flying steadily with a neutral face, though he couldn't help but laugh when he noticed how tightly Tom was holding onto his broom. They flew higher above the clouds, he could see nothing below now but tiny pinpricks of light that were car headlights and streetlamps. They soar around, avoiding passing over towns directly with Kingsley shouting the orders. Harry's hands were getting numb and they were moving too fast and too frequently for him to summon fire to warm himself and Tom up.

"Start descending! Harry, follow Tonks!" Kingsley shouted.

Harry followed Tonks into a dive. They were heading for the largest collection of lights he had yet seen, a huge, sprawling crisscrossing mass, glittering in lines and grids, interspersed with patches of deepest black. Lower and lower they flew until Harry could see individual headlights and streetlamps, chimneys, and television aerials. He wanted to reach the ground very much, though he felt sure that someone would have to unfreeze him from his broom.

"Here we go!" Tonks called, and a few seconds later she had landed. Harry touched down right behind her and dismounted on a patch of unkempt grass in the middle of a small square. Tonks was already unbuckling Harry's trunk. Shivering, Harry looked around. The grimy fronts of the surrounding houses were not welcoming; some of them had broken windows, glimmering dully in the light from the streetlamps, paint was peeling from many of the doors, and heaps of rubbish lay outside several sets of front steps.

"How disgusting," Tom commented as he landed next to Harry. "I hope that this headquarters is better managed."

"Not here," Kingsley whispered. He took Harry by the arm and pulled him from the patch of grass, across the road, and onto the pavement. Tonks and the others followed, carrying Harry and Tom's trunks. He pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to Harry and Tom. "Read it and burn it," he instructed.

Harry looked down at the piece of paper. The narrow handwriting was vaguely familiar. It said:

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

Tom took the slip of paper and read it. He pulled out his wand quickly and lit the paper with the tip of his wand. "Think about what we just read," Tom muttered and Harry nodded. He looked up at the houses, they were outside numbers eleven and thirteen, but then a second later a battered door emerged out of nowhere between the two, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of the way. Tom grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him towards the home. Kingsley unlocked the door with a tap of his wand and it swung open silently.

They all filed in. Harry could smell the damp, dust, and a sweetish, rotting smell; the place had the feeling of a derelict building. He looked over his shoulder and saw the others filing in behind him. Tonks helped the others carry his trunk. They were all talking in hushed voices and it made Harry feel on edge with an odd feeling of foreboding; it was as though they had just entered the house of a dying person. He heard a soft hissing noise and then old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls. Harry heard something scuttling behind the baseboard.

There were hushed footsteps and the twins' mother, Mrs. Weasley, emerged from a door at the far end of the hall. She was beaming in welcome as she hurried toward them, though Harry noticed that she was rather thinner and paler than she had been last time he had seen her.

"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!" she whispered, pulling him into a rib-cracking hug before holding him at arm's length and examining him critically. "You're looking peaky, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid…" she noticed Tom and said, "Sorry, proper introductions have to wait, you are?"

"Harry's boyfriend, ma'am," Tom answered. Mrs. Weasley smiled at him before turning to the others. "He's just arrived, the meeting's started…"

The wizards behind Harry and Tom all made noises of interest and excitement and began filing past Harry toward the door through which Mrs. Weasley had just come; Harry made to follow but Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "I'm sorry dearie, but the meeting is for members of the Order only. Fred and George are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over and then we'll have dinner. And keep your voice down in the hall," she added in an urgent whisper.

"Why?"

"I don't want to wake anything up."

"What d'you—?"

"I'll explain later. I've got the hurry. I'm supposed to be at the meeting—I'll just show you where you're sleeping."

Pressing her finger to her lips, she led them on tiptoes past a pair of long, moth-eaten curtains, behind which Harry supposed there must be another door, and after skirting a large umbrella stand that looked as though it had been made from a severed troll's leg, they started up the dark staircase, passing a row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall. A closer look showed Harry that the heads belonged to house-elves.

He looked over at Tom, wondering where exactly they were.

They reached the second landing and Mrs. Weasley pointed, "There, you're the door on the right. I'll call you when it's over." And she hurried off downstairs again.

Tom sighed and continued on, holding the door open for Harry. They entered a gloomy high-ceiling twin-bedded room and sat down. "So," Harry said after a moment. "Where are we?"

"Black's home," Tom said, his face breaking into a grin. His body convulsed as laughs escaped his lips, becoming louder and powerful. "We're at the Headquarters of Dumbledore's band of fighters!" he laughed. "The stupid fool, leading me directly towards them!" Tom jumped up and turned to stare at a mirror. "I wonder… will he remember me, Harry? Will he look into my eyes and remember me as his enemy or has his old age dulled his senses?" He spun back around to Harry, "What do you think, my love?"

"I think I want to go home," Harry said, sounding a little sad. "I mean, I'm happy to be with Fred and George but I'm scared. We're surrounded by enemies, aren't we?"

"We are my love, my sweet Harry, but here we can monitor them, far better than letting Snape do it. Besides," Tom waved his hand and a black purplish mist appeared around it, pulsing as though it was alive, "Dark Magic thrives in this house. We can return home whenever we want, all we need to do is ask."

Harry smiled gently at that and sighed, "Yeah, that makes me feel a little better," he muttered. He turned to look at the beds and frowned, "Want to help me push the beds together at least? Even if we return to our own home every night, I will not have our room have separate beds." Tom chuckled at that and together they moved the furniture with magic, fusing the two beds together and having the end tables lay on either side. As they finished, the two decided to "test" the bed with heavy kissing and touch. The door opened with none of them noticing, and an angry voice screamed.

"What the hell are you doing here!?"

A/N: The final year, we're finally here. The entire story is outlined and we will be at a grand total of 75 chapters. Could be less, could be a little more, but that's it. It all ends now.