Chapter 2: Shock and Delight

Harry burst through the sitting room door in a state of distress and disarray. His cheeks were flushed and ruddy, his hair more wind-tossed than usual. As Harry shut the door with a quiet click, Tom's eyes caught on the pretty pastel bouquet clenched in Harry's left hand.

Tom rose to his feet with haste, his heart thudding awfully in his chest as he stared at the pink, white, and orange flowers. "Harry?"

"I was—" Harry came to a breathless halt in front of the settee where Tom had been seated. He set the flowers down on the side table and wiped his palms on his trousers. "I was at the Lovegood house just now."

Tom stifled his disappointment, reminding himself of his end goal, and smiled instead. "Quite the crowd, I presume?"

"You would not believe it." Harry blew out a frustrated gust of air and ran a hand through the mop of his hair. "Lord V's latest paper has caused a damned uproar. Their entrance hall reeks of alpha pheromones. I considered leaving these there with a note," he added with a nod at the flowers, "but I decided I can wait out the rest and deliver them in person." His mouth fell flat into a grimace. "Surely there will be a lull at some point during the day."

Tom hoped not. If there was any justice in this godless land, now that Tom had set all of London's eyes upon the Prewett wench, she would take up with a wealthier, more assertive alpha than Harry. If she chose another, or better yet, got herself marked, Harry would desist with his foolish courtship of this girl.

"I suppose you'll simply have to keep an eye out then," Tom said, nodding with faux sympathy.

Harry sighed for the second time and collapsed on the seat to Tom's left. "And you, Tom?" He cast his gaze about, taking in the various floral arrangements dotted around the room. "I see you've a lovely collection for yourself."

"Respect cannot be bought with flowers," Tom remarked with disdain. The flowers Tom received were picked for beauty rather than meaning. Boring, unimaginative gifts. As if any alpha chose their bouquets with anything other than the promise of a mind-blowing rut in mind.

Harry's jovial expression faltered. "As you say."

Tom grimaced. He had not meant to slight Harry's honest, if misguided, attempt at courtship. Flowers were suitable for Miss Prewett, certainly. She heralded from an upper-middle class family to whom the Lovegoods were indebted to. Her manners were rough and unfettered, the loveliness of her face the only saving grace she possessed. Her youth and beauty would see her matched this season, but not to Harry so long as Tom drew breath.

"On that note, I've not met with an alpha all day," Tom said in a bored tone, hoping to change the subject. He tapped his fingers on the armrest to indicate his displeasure. "Ill-bred wretches, the lot of them. Unfortunately, there is little I can do about the gifts. The dowager insists I permit them."

"The flowers add to the decor, at least," Harry joked. His shoulders relaxed for a moment, then straightened as he levelled Tom with a critical look. "You left early last night," he said, his eyes now alight with concern. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

Tom felt a curl of bitterness in the back of his throat as he was reminded of Harry's abrupt departure. Harry was the exception, the only alpha worthy of Tom's time and attention, yet he had abandoned Tom for that red-haired harlot.

"Nothing," Tom said. "Once you were occupied, there was no reason for me to stay."

Harry shook his head, smiling. "This may be your first season, but you must keep up appearances if you ever hope to make a match. You don't even let them through the door! I'd hate to see you branded as unapproachable."

"An alpha who cares for the number of seasons I put behind me is not an alpha I want for myself," Tom said tightly.

Harry hesitantly placed a hand on Tom's shoulder, close to the neck gland. "I understand. Or I'm trying to. I promise you, not all of us are as terrible as you think. I want every opportunity to be available to you. This—" He nodded at the closed door. "This will close the door on some of those opportunities, Tom."

Tom shifted forward, wishing Harry would scent him. "There will be other doors."

Harry smiled again, this time with melancholy. "Of course. I have immense faith in you'll find an equal someday. I want to see you happy with an alpha who will respect your independence and ambitions." Then Harry trailed his fingers up, clearly intending to comfort, against the sensitive skin of Tom's neck.

For a heart-stopping second, Tom struggled to breathe. The omega in him was shrieking at the top of its lungs. If Harry continued down this path of utter delusion, Tom was going to snap and do something absurd.

Tom let a few seconds pass so his panic would not be obvious, then stood so he could turn his face away. "Someday," he said evasively, stepping to the window to put some distance between them. The window was open, the cold air on his heated skin more than enough to shock him out of any rash actions.

"I think you ought to go," Tom said at last. He could barely think straight when Harry was in the room, his presence intoxicating and stifling in the best and worst of ways. The urge to present his neck and beg to be claimed was insufferable. "See if the fervor at the Lovegood's has lessened any." He spun about to face the settee couch. "I shall see you at tonight's party?"

"Yes," Harry said, slowly, perhaps confused by the abrupt request for his absence, "yes, I'll see you tonight, Tom."

Tom shut the door once Harry was gone. His hands were numb as he collapsed on the couch and buried his face in his palms. After a minute of this, he had to stand and leave the room because Harry's scent, buried into the cushions and burning against his neck, was driving him mad.

Could Harry not see that they were compatible? What was holding him back? Tom needed to know so he could dismantle the misconception and tear it to shreds.

Perhaps Harry failed to view Tom as a romantic candidate because Tom had isolated himself from other alphas at last night's ball. There had been no opportunity for Harry to play the role of protective alpha. That was the only sensible explanation.

What Tom needed was a prospective suitor who would trigger those instincts, and tonight would offer that opportunity. Tom would make sure of it. The next alpha who came calling and was not wholly repulsive would be given the chance to court him.

Later that evening, Tom was seated at his vanity table when Minerva rapped smartly on the door.

"Come in."

Her stern face appeared over the shoulder of his reflection. "Do you care to explain to me why, out of all the suitors in Britain, you have seen fit to let Lord Grindelwald into my house?" she demanded.

"He is wealthy," Tom remarked. He applied a touch of rouge to his cheeks, then adjusted the angle of his head to examine the effect of the colour. "He has titles and land aplenty. Any other parent or guardian would be thrilled with such a prestigious match for their precious omega child, Auntie."

"You," she said loudly as she smacked the back of his head, "are a fool. And far too young to be playing games with alphas far older than you!"

Tom scowled at her. Now he would have to brush his hair again. "Do you truly believe I plan to marry him?" he asked in disgust. "Lord Grindelwald is a means to an end. His favour is a tool that will aid me with larger goals." He snatched his brush up from the table and set about fixing the damage she'd done to his head.

"A fool," she repeated, swatting him again.

"Stop that!" he hissed at her, twisting his torso so that he could fix her with a scalding glare. "I do not have the time for your meddling." Tom ducked his head to avoid a third smacking and added, "Trust that I know what I'm doing and leave me be!"

"You will come to regret those words," Minerva told him with a haughty sniff. "I've half a mind to hit you with my cane. Perhaps that is what it takes to knock some sense into your thick skull!"

"I know what I'm doing," Tom repeated firmly.

After a moment of staring at him, she shook her head. The severe expression did not fade from her face as she said, "On your head, so be it."

She left without further scolding. Tom re-tidied his hair and dabbled with the pots of makeup on his vanity. When the arduous affair of accentuating his aristocratic features was done, he settled downstairs to wait for the Potter carriage. James Potter was occupied on business elsewhere tonight, which meant the duty of escorting Tom had fallen to Harry.

When the doorman announced Harry's arrival, Tom checked his appearance before he made his way to the door.

"You look quite handsome," Harry said in greeting as he guided Tom into the carriage. "Is that rouge I see? How unlike you."

"I took your words under consideration," Tom said briskly. Harry's hand on his arm was wonderfully warm and felt protective. He wished it would stay. "Lord Grindelwald came calling shortly after you left. I entertained him for a spell, just to see what he had to offer."

"Oh?" Harry's brows tugged together. "And it went well?"

"Well enough."

"If I'm to be honest with you," Harry said carefully, "he is the last caller I expected you to accept. His reputation is hardly spotless."

"He can be reasoned with, which is more than I can say for most alphas. His experience lends him a measure of control over his instincts."

Harry frowned. "I never meant to pressure you to accept an alpha this season, Tom. You should not have to settle for less than what you deserve."

"I know. I stand to gain a great deal from this arrangement," Tom said in a reasonable tone. "As a young omega of excellent health, I doubt it would take more than a few pregnancies to produce a male heir. In exchange, I would have access to the wealth of a marquess and the freedom to otherwise do as I wished."

"You have never wanted a life like that," Harry protested. "You said you never wanted children."

"They wouldn't be my children," Tom said coldly. "Not really."

Harry fell silent, but there was thinly-veiled concern in his gaze as it lingered on the colour smudged across Tom's face.

When the carriage arrived at Lady Augusta Longbottom's estate, Harry cleared his throat.

"Yes?" Tom asked. His voice was steady, but his stomach churned with contemptible nerves. A great deal of his plan relied on Harry's noble nature rising above all else.

"I don't presume to make demands of you," Harry said quietly, "but I would feel more comfortable if, were he to approach you, you did not wander off on your own as you often do. Just for now, you understand. I don't trust him to protect your honour."

Success. Tom wanted to preen. "Of course," he demurred. "I understand. It is your duty, after all... Doubly so, as an alpha of high social standing."

"As your friend," Harry added firmly.

Tom smiled, but it was not a smile he truly felt. The fierce affection in Harry's voice soothed Tom's inner agitated omega somewhat, but Harry's intentions remained platonic, not romantic.

"Shall we?" Tom asked, inclining his head to the carriage door.

"Yes." Harry bobbed his head. "Yes, let's."

As they approached the manor, Harry expounded in a hushed voice on what he would say and do if—and here Harry was careful to not mention Grindelwald by name, which Tom felt was a satisfyingly transparent attempt to pretend the man did not exist—an alpha tried to take advantage of him.

Tom listened attentively to every single word. Harry's intentions were not wholly aligned with Tom's desired outcome of them as bonded mates, but Tom found comfort in Harry's desire to protect him, an omega, from the other alphas in attendance.

From there, the evening melted into introductions and pandering. Harry steered Tom around the room, talking up a storm. It was an obvious ploy to keep Tom far away from Lord Grindelwald until the hour grew late enough for them to leave. Harry was not the social kind, but tonight he was making the extra effort.

After perhaps fifteen minutes of dull conversation, Tom decided Harry's preoccupation with socializing was nearly as irritating as his preoccupation with Miss Prewett. While Harry was focused on others, he was not focused on Tom. At least, not in a way that was conducive to falling madly in love.

"This is boring," Tom said in an undertone when they had a moment's respite from the meaningless chatter. "I'd like to find Lord Grindelwald."

Harry's face did a funny thing where it twisted but tried not to. "I have yet to see him. Perhaps he decided not to come."

"I told him I would be here," Tom said in a voice dripping with self importance. "So I'm sure he'll arrive sooner or later."

Reluctance flashed across Harry's face, but it was quickly replaced by a mixture of surprise and interest as murmurs came floating from the direction of the doorway.

Harry nudged Tom gently in the ribs and muttered, "My father told me the Prince of Hangleton would be here tonight. His father is a friend of Lady Augusta's."

Tom glanced at the entrance. "Is that so?"

A gaggle of tittering, simpering omegas had formed an embarrassing circle around the new arrival. The prince himself was tall, curly-haired, and handsome in the sweet, wholesome way that Tom felt was more appropriate for an omega than an alpha prince.

"I've heard he's quite the charmer," Harry said in a dry voice.

Tom stifled a snort. "Is that so?" he repeated, a smile curling the corner of his mouth.

The two of them watched with amusement as Miss Brown forced her way to the front of the group and curtsied so deeply that her knees must have been in danger of touching the floor.

"Let's see..." Harry eyed the proceeding introductions. "He'll compliment her dress since that's the easiest mark. Then, once she's suitably flustered, he'll lay a hand on her forearm and pay her a ridiculous compliment. How her eyes sparkle like diamonds or some rot."

Tom hummed in agreement. From a distance, the scene continued to unfold as Harry had predicted until Miss Brown's seduction attempt was derailed by Lady Augusta Longbottom's polite interjection.

She took the prince by the arm and—to the shock of everyone, no less—guided him to where Harry and Tom were standing some paces away.

At that moment, Tom was reminded that Lady Augusta and Lady McGonagall were also friends.

Introductions were made by Lady Augusta. Tom was presented as the diamond of the season, favoured by the Queen herself. Out of everyone present, Harry was the most affected; he bristled, the set of his shoulders stiff in a way that only Tom noticed.

Prince Cedric had a smile that dimpled on one side. "A pleasure to meet you, Mister Riddle." He took Tom's hand and placed a modest kiss to the back of it. As he straightened, he added, "If I may be bold for a moment, might I mention how lovely your suit is? The colour, it brings out your eyes. They seem to, ah, sparkle under the chandeliers. It's quite dazzling."

Harry coughed.

Tom dropped his gaze, allowing a smile to settle on his lips. "How kind of you to say, Prince Cedric."

Cedric inclined his head politely. "If your escort permits, may I have the honour of a dance?"

"Of course, your highness. It would be my pleasure." Tom extended his hand, beaming, and did not spare Harry a single glance.

The prince swept them away. Cedric was, admittedly, an excellent dancer, and smelled rather nice. A hint of spice and pine, strong but not overwhelmingly so. Tom was extremely pleased. This turn of events was far better than anything Grindelwald could have accomplished. Who could compare to a prince? Harry would be mad with jealousy before the night was over.

"Your escort," Cedric said, his hand resting on the small of Tom's back as they circled the room, "a cousin of yours? I was not quite clear on the relation, but I can smell him on you. You must be quite close."

"A dear friend," Tom said pleasantly. "Lady McGonagall is his great aunt, as you know. She took me in as a child, and so we grew up together."

Cedric smiled. "I've tried in vain to imagine a childhood with siblings, but alas I shall never truly know."

"It is unfortunate," Tom agreed.

"I do hope to have children someday," Cedric said hopefully. "A few to fill a happy household."

It was not unusual to hear that an alpha wished for heirs, but the prince's tone—bright and starry-eyed—was unexpected. "An admirable desire," Tom said with affected warmth.

"Someday," Cedric repeated. He shook his head slightly. "But please, do feel free to tell me more about yourself."

Tom's smile strained. "My father was an artist. An alpha. He married my mother at a young age. You may have known her as Lady Merope Gaunt, daughter to Viscount Gaunt. She passed away when she gave birth to me, and my father followed some years after."

Quite the scandal, back in those days. A man of no means or title running off with the only daughter of a viscount. Merope had been disowned for her disobedience, and even now, Tom was estranged from his uncle and grandfather.

If Morfin Gaunt failed to produce an heir, Tom stood a decent chance of inheriting the viscount title. He would be one of very few omegas to hold such a high rank. His odds would improve were he to be married, but then the title would go to his spouse. The only alpha in Tom's eyes who was worthy of such an honour would be Harry.

Cedric's eyes softened. "I'm very sorry to hear that. You have my condolences, Mister Riddle. I cannot imagine that made for an easy childhood."

Tom would have shrugged were they not engaged in dance. "It lies in the past."

"And now?"

"And now I work as a copy editor for Lord Malfoy," Tom said pointedly, bracing himself for a negative reaction.

"Oh." A fine crease appeared on the prince's forehead. In his worldview, omegas would not have jobs. They would exist to please their alphas and bear children.

"Do you enjoy your work?" Cedric pressed after a pause.

"I do."

"Then that is what matters," Cedric said with a nod, and Tom found himself reluctantly placated by the answer.

A second song started. Tom permitted himself a glance at his surroundings. The jealousy of his peers pleased him, but there was only one set of jealous eyes he truly cared for.

"You are quite the dancer, your highness," Tom said to occupy the silence while his gaze roamed the ballroom.

Cedric chuckled, low and cheerful. "I have plenty of practice. And tutors."

From across the floor, Harry watched Tom dance with the prince, glass of drink in hand. Tom hardly had time to take in Harry's expression before Prince Cedric swung him wide, to the faster pace of the new song.

"Will we dance for the third time?" Tom asked eventually, genuine curiosity colouring his voice.

Prince Cedric grinned, sheepish. "I suppose I should not overstep. Many alphas have their eye on you tonight, rendered helpless by your charms."

The compliment was so heavy-handed that Tom could choke on it, yet there was no aspect of the prince's demeanour that implied dishonesty. "I'm flattered," Tom said, feeling quite bemused. "You are too kind to me, your majesty."

Lesser omegas would have swooned at such words from a prince. Tom considered pretending to do so, but decided against it. His pride set him apart from other omegas; he would be foolish to discard that advantage now.

"Hardly. I only speak the truth." Cedric tightened his hold on Tom's waist as the song momentarily slowed. "If we are to part ways for the evening," he continued, his serious grey eyes intent on Tom's reaction, "then might I secure the promise of a future dance?"

Tom felt an unwanted heat wash over his face. The attention of a prince was a weighty, heavy thing to possess. It was not to be taken lightly. If Tom continued to encourage Cedric, they would engage in a more serious dance—the dance of courtship. With the proper submissive attitude, Tom could become royalty.

"Of course," Tom murmured sweetly to the prince, shyly dropping his gaze to the marble floors beneath their feet. Then he craned his neck to the side, just enough to tempt. "Nothing would please me more."

"Excellent," Cedric said. "I look forward to it." His voice was slightly unsteady compared to before. Were his pupils dilated? Tom was tempted to look.

"As do I," Tom said. Then, to secure the deal, he lifted his gaze and added, "You are unlike other alphas I have met."

Cedric's smile slid into a smirk that looked out of place on his handsome, picturesque face. "And you are unlike other omegas, Mister Riddle."

The sudden switch to banter caught Tom off guard. "Because I want to work?"

"Because when I do this—" Cedric raised a hand to tuck a lock of Tom's hair behind his ear. "Your reaction is delightfully unremarkable." He smiled. "Pretty, vacuous omegas are two a penny, Mister Riddle. I require an omega who is clever as well as devoted."

"As a spouse?" Of course, Prince Cedric wished for an agreeable, loving partner and multiple children to cherish and spoil.

"As a partner. Contrary to what you may believe of me, I've no interest in the masses that hound me at these events. Whilst we are occupied with each other, I can promise you my full attention."

Tom was intrigued. "You wish for a respite?"

"I wish for an opportunity to get to know you better," Cedric said softly. "I agreed to dance as a favour to Lady Augusta, but I now find myself interested in courting you."

Courtship. Satisfaction bloomed within Tom's chest. The prince found him appealing. This alpha found him appealing, worthy of mating and bearing children.

The delusion lasted but a second before reality reinstated itself, reminding Tom of his true goals. "You wish to court me?" he asked carefully.

Cedric nodded. "If we are not compatible, then we will part ways with no time wasted for either of us. The attention of Britain would ensure you had your pick of suitors, and I will have enjoyed a season free from the frivolous attentions of the matchmaking mothers and tittering omegas."

This offer was beyond even Tom's wildest imaginings. Here was an alpha who had shown him respect, kindness, and patience. Here was an alpha willing to accept his independence and desire to work. The prince satisfied every requirement for Tom's perfect alpha except for one.

He was not Harry.

Tom had been in love with Harry for what was beginning to feel like his entire life. The way he felt could not be changed. The affections of this prince were nothing but a stepping stone that would carry Tom to where he needed to be: enveloped by Harry's tender, devoted embrace.

"You have my consent," Tom said magnanimously. "For courtship."

"Wonderful." Cedric's smile was blinding, the dimples on either side reminiscent of Harry's in all the wrong ways. His hand lifted to touch upon the sharp line of Tom's jaw, grey eyes shining with satisfaction. "Then I wish you a lovely evening, Mister Riddle, with the hope of once again enjoying the pleasure of your company very soon."

By the end of the night, Tom had enough information to write a dozen society papers. He was elated. Each step he took felt lighter than the last. Tom had championed Miss Ginny Prewett just the other day, but the prince's attention meant society's spotlight would once again fall upon Tom's shoulders.

He would soon be the envy of all the omegas in Britain.

"A prince," Harry said brightly into the quiet of the carriage as they made the return trip to Minerva's estate. "I should have guessed you would land yourself with royalty. I did say your season would be perfect, did I not?"

Tom was not fooled by Harry's joviality. Harry was jealous. He had to be.

"I'd want for nothing," Tom agreed. No material items, anyway. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We shared a few dances, that's all."

"He was smitten with you. I could tell. Did he ask to see you again?"

"He did. I've no doubt he'll find a way to show up wherever I attend next." Tom undid his suit jacket and shrugged it off, deliberately flapping the tail ends. Harry's nose wrinkled the slightest bit as he caught the scent. After the prince, Tom had danced with no other alphas, content to hold his status as the most coveted omega of the season, made more untouchable by Prince Cedric's favour.

"And you will find a way to leverage that," Harry said with a small smile. "I know many would pay a king's ransom for the chance to host a prince."

"Didn't your mother mention she had considered hosting an evening soiree this season?"

Harry blinked. "Well, yes. Though it may have been another blatant attempt on her part to find me a spouse." He laughed a little. "You know I don't make a habit of attending these parties."

Harry did not. He had this season because of Tom.

"We'll see what happens, then," Tom said amicably.

"We'll see if you become prince consort," Harry added in a distant tone. "I'm sure your aunt will be pleased, since this seems like her doing."

Was it? Minerva had previously prodded him about matching with Harry. He had denied it to her face, had called her old and senile. Had she believed the lie and gone on to arrange a more beneficial match for him?

"I'll ask her when I have the chance," Tom settled for saying. The promise of a royal title would not sway him from the path he had chosen.

Harry turned his gaze to the window. Tom let the silence hold, using the time to draft Lord V's next publication in his mind. He would dedicate the front page to the prince and himself. Perhaps later on, he would toss in a mention of Miss Prewett's short-lived popularity. Or not. He did not want to give Harry any foolish ideas.

It was not until the carriage drew to a halt that Harry spoke again.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" The question had an edge to it, like Harry was asking for Tom's sake rather than out of a genuine desire to know the answer.

"It was nice," Tom said. Then, because the best part of any night was always the time he spent with Harry, he added, "You were entirely accurate with your initial remark about the prince. He's predictable."

Harry smiled. "But he's a prince. I think you can afford some measure of leniency."

"He's a prince," Tom echoed. He looked to the window, to the house where his room and bed awaited him. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, gazing at Harry's reflection in the glass.

"Yes," Harry said. "Of course. I think... I think I may stop by the Lovegood's again now that everyone's focused on... Well, focused on you and the prince. I expect you'll have a number of callers on your hands tomorrow to keep you occupied."

Tom scoffed. Even the mention of Miss Prewett could not dampen his spirits. With the threat of the prince looming near, Harry would recognize that Tom was not only desirable, but the perfect partner. Soon, Harry would confess his attraction to Tom.

"I'll be sure to ignore them all," Tom declared, "as I have been doing."

Harry's lips twitched. "Even the prince?"

"Hmm." Tom pretended to think it over. "I may make him wait a few minutes."

Harry laughed. "I would only expect that from you, Tom."

The familiar sound of Harry's joy warmed Tom's heart, so much he felt dizzy from it.

Tom descended from the carriage, landing lightly on the ground with both feet. Then he spun about and grinned up at Harry, teeth flashing white. "I'll make him wait extra, if you like. Just for you."

Harry shook his head, still smiling. "Have a good night, Tom."

Tom sobered, raising his hand to rest on the carriage door. "Good night, Harry." He shut the door and took a step back. He watched as the carriage vanished into the night.

Once Harry was out of sight, Tom gave himself a mental shake. He had a great deal of writing to do if he wanted to have Lord V's newest papers published for distribution tomorrow. His feelings for Harry would wait until morning.

A/N:

yooooooooooo here we are with another chapter of this wild AU. i apologize very sincerely if this is 1. not entirely coherent and 2. not entirely vibing in line with the first chapter. it's been a while since i looked at this particular story!

also i feel like i should add that as far as omegaverse goes, this story won't be heavy on that aspect because i'm not well practiced in writing it and it's not intended to be a large part of the plot. if people have ideas, though, you can feel free to toss them into the comments! it's just not a creative direction that i'm used to navigating in, which means i'm open to hearing options.