Marvalo was a dark lord, and like many other dark lords of the past, he was smart. He truly didn't mean to toot his own horn, but it was difficult to teach him something new. He was a prodigy at most things he set his mind to. His brilliance didn't stop at only academics, of course, but it was his fundamental pride and joy.
But Hadrian Malfoy, a boy no older than 16, had taught him things he had never been taught before, a feat he had considered impossible. Harry had been long before the courtship had ever begun, Harry taught him simple things at first, when they were barely comfortable in each other's company and long before Marvalo had even paid him any attention. After all, why would he be interested in a 16-year-old boy, with only the Black heirship to his name? Harry hadn't even known him then.
Harry had taught him how to laugh. He threw his head back when something was truly funny, his eyes showed like stars in the sky, and his lips quirked up in an infuriating grin. His laugh is beautiful. There were simply no other words to describe the joyous sound. The genuine joy Harry's laugh emitted made everyone sit up and take notice. It's too bad he didn't do it more often, honestly.
Harry taught Marvalo that murder wasn't the solution to everything. Marvalo had been quite bored one evening, so he had, as a joke, polyjuiced himself into one of his follower's children and had infiltrated the group of teenagers that stood apart at meetings or events. After all, they had better gossip than their adult counterparts. Harry had explained to him and the others quite thoroughly one evening how "dumb" the Dark Lord was and how "he shouldn't spill so much magical blood". When all was said and done, the argument made more sense than Marvalos' own solution. He doubted Harry remembered the day, but it remained one of his worst or best memories, depending on his mood at the moment.
Harry also taught him songs. Songs from wizarding bands such as the Weird Sisters and the Trio of Madness, but also his favourite muggle ones from old bands like Queen. Harry had a wonderful singing voice that he could listen to every day of his life. He might be a bit biased, but honestly, who cares? Marvalo loved it when Harry sang with a smile on his face, the smile Marvalo loved, his cheeks glowing and his eyes shining as he sang the words to tracks Marvalo was sure weren't real.
Harry also made Marvalo think a lot of things. As a dark lord, Marvalo hadn't trusted many, and he still didn't to this day. He didn't think the word "trust" existed in his wiring; perhaps that was the effect or the mark his awful childhood had left on him. He didn't like to think about it often. He had left that part of himself behind for a good reason.
But Harry hadn't given up. Harry taught him how to consider his options better, how to laugh, how to smile, how to use chopsticks (Marvalo hadn't known there was a technique for it), and most importantly, how to trust.
He had told Marvalo titbits about himself and asked for the same in return. Nothing more, nothing less. equal trade. Having an equal was a humbling experience. Marvalo had never met anyone with whom he could truly be himself; all of his followers and friends expected him to be great and change the didn't expect anything. And that is what made him different in his mind.
He didn't ask anything, and he gave Marvalo his all, so Marvalo, in his usual fashion, decided to excel in their relationship, to show him that he cared just as much, if not more.
Except he couldn't. There was no set pattern he could use to follow. He knew there was probably a set pattern, but he didn't think there was one that applied to him. So Marvalo tried his way. It was difficult at first. Of course, it was. When had anything good ever been easy?
Both of them didn't like touch. It came as a package of not being used to it in the first place, but nevertheless, they both tried. Yet the first time he had seen Harry in his bed, he had faltered, but he had pushed through. They had never mentioned it, but he knew that day had been special to them both. It had been sort of a start to them getting more comfortable in the relationship; it had been the start to them actually being partners.
They were both perfect halves of a whole, not trying to fix anything and finding nothing broken in each other because they had been perfect molds for each other from the beginning. He had liked that, the way they were together. In a few months' time, Marvalo had properly gotten to know Harry; he felt as if he had known him for the longest time.
They fit seamlessly into each other's lives. Marvalo didn't think he had truly felt as comfortable in anyone else's company before.
He knew their magic was compatible, but that wasn't the only thing that made them work. It was because when Harry came to his house in the middle of the night, he sank into Marvalos' couch as if he owned it. It was the way his legs threw over the arms of the very same couch as he dangled his feet off them. It was the way he glared at Marvalo until he relented and stopped working to come to sit with the man. It was the way they knew how they both liked their tea and how Marvalo preferred coffee on tough days.
It was the little things in him that no one had gotten close enough to notice.
It was the way when they kissed, Harry tilted his neck to the side because he knew Marvalo liked it there, and it was the way when they cuddled together, he slotted himself right below Marvalo's collarbone because he knew it was the only position where he would be digging his knee into Marvalos' stomach.
It was the way he played with Marvalo's hair and pressed his shoulders because he knew Marvalo had terrible posture. It was the way Harry sometimes cleaned up his office because he knew the elves didn't do it correctly.
It was the way they solved all the crossword puzzles in the newspapers and magazines they subscribed to as they sat together. It was the way that Harry wore his scarf around his neck with pride, and it was mostly the way Harry smiled at him as if he had saved the world when he had done nothing.
Marvalo had always thought he couldn't love, but it was Harry who had begun to make him think he was wrong.