"Harry, come in, come in!" Mrs. Weasley ushered her in. Harry's gifts followed after her and set themselves under the Christmas tree. Ron and Ginny both dropped what they were doing to come say hello to her.

It never failed to bring a smile to her face seeing all her friends. And time flew by everytime she was with them.

She arrived on the morning of Christmas Eve and it was already evening and they were having dinner. Harry trudged upstairs with Ginny, chatting the whole time about Ginny possibly joining the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch Team.

Mrs. Weasley brought Hermione all dressed up in her pyjamas and ready for bed and the three of them had a proper sleepover again. Hermione fell asleep almost instantly, but Harry and Ginny stayed up late to talk. Eventually around three in the morning, she asked Harry about Voldemort and how she was doing at home, at which point Harry smiled and assured her she was fine. Then she yawned and suggested they sleep now.

On Christmas Day, the three of them went down in their pyjamas to open presents. Remus and Tonks joined them as well. Harry sensed some tensions between the two and pulled Remus aside to ask him about it after they opened all their presents.

"Nothing's going on between us, Harry, you're being ridiculous," he brushed her off. Harry raised her eyebrows and pinned him with a hard look. One thing Remus Lupin was good at, though, was keeping secrets, so it didn't phase him in the slightest. Except for—

"You look just like your mother when you do that," he smiled sadly. Harry went to ask Tonks about it instead, to get away from Remus' reminiscing. Because once he started, he was going to feel guilty about allowing two of his best friends' daughter marry their murderer.

Remus and Tonks liked each other, but he was resisting a relationship because he didn't want to endanger her and he believed himself to be too old for her.

Tonks was not at all as good at keeping secrets.

"You're the one being ridiculous," Harry scolded Remus later. "Do you love her?"

"Harry, it's not—"

"Do you love her?"

"It doesn't matter what I—"

"It's a yes or no question."

"Yes," he mumbled quietly, not meeting her eyes. "It's why I can't do this."

"It's why you should. Why are you intent on not being happy? Being a werewolf doesn't mean you deserve to have a bad life. She wants to be with you, why don't you at least give it a try!"

"I'm a werewolf—it's dangerous!"

"I married the most dangerous man in the wizarding world. If I can still be alright despite all the taunting I do as his enemy, I'm sure Tonks is going to be safe with someone who loves her."

"I'm too old for her," he insisted.

"I married someone too old for me and I at least don't have to deal with an immature boy. Girls like it when men are on the same level of maturity as them. And sure, Tonks is a more fun girl than mature girl, but when it comes to serious stuff she is mature. More so now than you."

"Are you really alright in your marriage?" he asked quietly. Harry blinked.

"Yes, I actually am," she said truthfully. They all needed reassurances that they didn't condemn her to a life of hell for a bigger gain.

"I hate that he has you in his house everyday and that he can actually control your life and make you do things you might not—"

"He doesn't," she told him calmly. "His only rules are easy enough to follow."

"What are his rules?" Ron asked immediately from beside them. He had been shamelessly eavesdropping since Remus asked about her marriage.

Harry sighed.

"Join in for dinner when he has 'guests' over, which are Death Eaters. Not go anywhere without consulting him first. And…" she didn't want to say all the Dumbledore stuff. While Ron would probably accept that its smart to learn Occlumency so she can block him out, Remus would see it as a way of Voldemort hiding things and immediately tell Dumbledore. She didn't want it to be known that she was working alongside Voldemort by feeding as little information as possible to Dumbledore. "That's pretty much it."

"That's it?" they both asked.

"You're allowed to leave any time you want?" Ron asked.

"That's a recent development, I hadn't had the chance to see how often he'll let me go out. He found out that the Dursley's used to lock me in my room and put bars on my windows, and he doesn't want to be like them. So I have more freedom than I did before."

"He cares about what your relatives did?"

"I think it's more like…" Harry wasn't sure how much she should say. "I think he may have had some similar experience as a child," she told them, privately glad that by the looks on their faces, they were starting to humanize her husband a little. They both looked disturbed by it, but it was happening.

Maybe Harry could help them see that he was not as bad as they all thought. Still bad. Just not to the extreme level they had been made to think.

"Wait, seriously?" Ginny joined in the conversation. Harry gulped nervously, she shouldn't say anymore. "Actually, I think I remember the diary saying something of the sort to me when it tried to get me to open up. I thought it was all lies after."

"I don't know what the diary said to you so I can't confirm or deny, but I should probably go check on the cake for tonight," Harry said quickly, excusing herself.

This time around everyone knew she would be here so Dumbledore came around just after their Christmas dinner to see Harry.

"Harry," he smiled warmly. "How are you?"

Harry put on a fake smile, masking the rage that coursed through her at the sight of him. All her anger at him resurfaced. Maybe it was Voldemort's influence, but she actually began to see Dumbledore as the man who let her grow up abused, intentionally kept her away from her parents best friends, the man who was distant until it mattered not to be, who played her like a pawn and was training her to become his most loyal soldier so she would willingly walk to her death because he ordered her to.

Thank God for the Occlumency lessons because there was no way she couldn't have let some of those frustrations leak through.

"I'm alright, Professor," she answered. His piercing gaze met her and after a few seconds he blinked. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you for asking," he said slowly, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Excellent. Now, if you'll excuse me, I actually have to check on—"

"Harry, there's actually a few important matters I'd like to discuss with you."

"Okay," she said, disappointed that she couldn't get away. "What is it?"

"Firstly, how are things at home?"

He watched her expression carefully for any slip ups.

"Fine," Harry answered.

"You're not in any danger—of any sort—around him?"

Tom's beautiful grey eyes as he ate her out in bed flashed through her mind and once again, thank God for Occlumency.

"No, I'm not in any danger. I do as I please. In fact, the longer I'm with him, the more freedom I buy myself."

"That's good to hear," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry couldn't help but feel as though he wished for the exact opposite. Wished that she were being tortured or beaten or even raped so he could swoop in as a protector and get her a divorce. Get her out of that house and away from Voldemort's influence and pump her with rage enough so she could finally kill him.

"You don't sound very relieved," she noted. Dumbledore's eyes widen slightly in shock at her transparency.

"Of course I'm relieved, Harry," he said sternly. "Why would you think I'm not?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Erm, what is it you wanted to talk about?"

Dumbledore took a moment to collect his thoughts. "If it's possible, I'd like to visit your house. I need to see for myself that Voldemort is holding up his end of the deal."

"Need to see for yourself?" Harry repeated, frowning. "You don't believe me when I tell you that I'm perfectly fine?"

He looked at her sadly. "No, Harry, I don't. Oftentimes, abuse victims find it difficult to speak of their hardships. For the sake of their loved ones, they put on a brave face. You are the bravest girl I know and I wouldn't put it past your courage to act normal around us. Nor would I put it past his proficiency in magic to remove evidence of said abuse before you come here. I'm sure you can understand why I want to be sure."

"No, Professor, I don't understand at all actually," she scoffed. "You never cared to be sure when I told you about my Muggle relatives. I never concealed their treatment of me and nobody cared then. You saw everything they put me through and you still sent me back there. So forgive me for not believing your intentions are in my best interest."

"My intentions are always in your best interest," he said. "I'm only human, I make mistakes and I will apologize to you everyday for the rest of my life for what you went through. I'm asking you to allow me to not make the same mistakes again."

Harry sighed uncomfortably. "I don't think it's a good idea, Professor."

"If—"

"He hates you," she cut him off. "Like really hates you. He will never agree to letting you into the house. And, as I'm sure you've guessed, the Manor is Unplottable. He's not going to give any indication as to where it is to an enemy. I don't even know how to find it and I live there as a permanent resident."

"I suppose you're right," he reluctantly agreed, looking off to the side.

For once Harry wished she could look into his mind and see what his thoughts were. However, when she tells Tom about this, he will probably already have an idea of where his thoughts were.

Dumbledore looked up at her again and then his gaze dropped to her locket.

"You still wear the locket," he stated.

"Everyday."

"You really think it's not cursed?"

Here she hesitated, unintentionally. He picked up on it.

Up until now, she had been truthful in her doubts of his actions and the sureness of her own safety. But here, she slipped up.

Of course the locket was fucking cursed. It was cursed with the darkest magic known to their kind. The only reason it didn't kill her or make her do bad things was because there was another version of it inside her that the locket clearly agreed with.

"I'm positive it's safe," she said firmly.

He regarded her for several moments. Picking and choosing what to say, trying to penetrate her Occlumency shields, trying to get her to crack under the pressure and reveal something else…

None of it worked, thankfully. In the end he said, "Harry, there is a very important matter regarding Voldemort I need to speak to you with."

"What is it?" she asked, already knowing what it is.

"I can't tell you here, right now. It's very crucial information and I can already tell he has you under some of his influence. If this knowledge gets back to him it's very bad for us. Why don't you come around to Hogwarts one day and I can explain everything to you properly? On New Year's Day? Most of the students will still be at home with their families."

She didn't know how to say no. It wouldn't reflect well on her either to say no to a meeting with Dumbledore. What will the others think? They'll start to trust her less. Before she had the excuse of Voldemort not wanting him in their house, now she didn't have that. Saying "he won't let me" right away will make it too obvious she doesn't want to.

"Okay," she agreed, nodding.

"Good," Dumbledore smiled. He stood to leave, and just before he could exit the room he turned back to look at her with a small frown on his face. "Some of it involves you, too, I'm afraid."

Way to keep it ominous, Harry thought. This was exactly what kept her hungry for information. But now, for once in her life, Harry already knew more than Dumbledore.

He was not going to take it well, Harry knew that right away.

She was sitting at the dinner table already, waiting for the food to arrive along with her husband.

"You're back on time," he said lightly, taking his seat. Harry looked up at him and resisted the urge to swoon at the sight of his eyes.

Why did he have such an influence on her? Perhaps keeping his natural eyes was worse for her than his red ones.

"I didn't want to risk you tearing the Burrow apart if I was a minute late," she responded.

Tom smirked, picking up his fork to start on his salad. Harry followed.

"Was Dumbledore there?"

"Yes, but let's talk about it after. I'd like to finish the meal before you flip the table or something," she suggested.

This was the wrong thing to say because he couldn't deal with the anticipation and needed to know right away what Dumbledore did that was going to make him angry.

"No, seriously, it's not that big of a deal," she tried to say.

"Tell me," he insisted.

"Please, Tom, I'm really hungry, let's just eat first. What did you do while I was away?"

"Harry, tell me right now, we can eat later."

"Not if—"

"I won't flip the table, damn it!" he shouted, slamming his hand on said table.

Harry sighed deeply and set her cutlery down.

"Dumbledore came to see me, obviously," she began.

"Obviously," he agreed.

"He asked me how I was and I told him I was okay and everything at home was okay. But of course, no one believes me when I say that. So he said he wanted to come to our house to see for himself that you were treating me right."

Tom's wine glass shattered without him taking his eyes off her.

"I said you would never allow him in a million years to come here and it was not possible. Then he tried to ask me about the locket again. He asked if I was sure it wasn't cursed and I think I may have slipped up because I think from my expression he guessed that I was lying about it being cursed. Then he said there was something very important he needed to talk to me about, I'm guessing he meant the Horcruxes, and if we could set up a meeting at Hogwarts on New Year's Day."

He waited for her to continue, his face frustratingly blank.

"And what did you say?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

"I-I didn't know how to say no without seeming suspicious. He says he can tell I'm already under some of your influence. I think that's why he wants it to happen so soon. So… I said okay."

Her glass shattered too, startling her.

"I figured I could just back out and say you threatened some lives or something and I couldn't go," she explained.

His far off look snapped back to her. "No," he said. "Don't back out. I need him to still think he can trust you."

The table was not flipped so they resumed their dinner. Harry's eyes shifted to Tom every few minutes, taking in his anger and annoyance. It made her feel worse that she didn't try harder to at least look like she believed a word Dumbledore said.

After dessert, Harry excused herself, saying she wanted to take a bath. She stayed in that bath for longer than intended, reorganizing her thoughts and priorities and morals.

Harry dried her hair and slipped on clean underwear and a new nightgown. As she stood in front of her vanity and brushed her hair, her bedroom door opened and Tom walked in.

He came up behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror while Harry pulled her earrings off.

"What is it?" she asked, closing the small jewelry box she had on her table for the ones she wore regularly.

"Nothing," he murmured, placing his hands on her hips. "Just wanted to see my wife before bed."

The butterflies erupted in Harry's stomach when his hands trailed up her waist. She missed his touch, too. They were only away from each other for three days and she missed him. It was crazy to think about, considering how distant they used to be.

His head dipped down to press soft kisses on her neck. Harry closed her eyes and smiled.

"Come to my bed tonight," he suggested, mumbling against her skin. His hand moved up from her stomach to just under her breasts.

"Okay," she breathed.

He smirked against her neck and in a split second picked her up to carry her bridal-style.

"Tom!" she squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You know we can do it on my bed too, it works just fine," she pointed out. "And it was right there."

"Yes, but there's something very naughty about having you in my bed," he responded. The door to his bedroom opened and he dropped her on his bed.

"Understandable," she said, smiling as he lowered himself on top of her. Her fingers tangled into his hair and she pulled him down for a searing kiss.

"What's wrong?" he asked her the next day when she came into his study. The moment his eyes landed on her, he set his papers down and leaned back on the edge of his table. She walked up to him, wringing her hands. He separated her hands and pulled her close between his legs.

This newfound intimacy was exhilarating for the both of them. Neither had been exposed to this much closeness in life and now that they had a reason and excuse to do it, it was addicting. He was just as—if not more—touch-starved as her.

It truly was a mark of how little love and affection she was shown as a child that she was excited for every bit of it that he gave her. Voldemort, of all people.

Harry's hands trailed up his chest and neck.

"I may have already given Dumbledore an idea of how I don't trust him," she revealed, a guilty look plastered on her face.

"What did you say?" he frowned.

"When he said he wanted to come here to see for himself that you were treating me right, I asked him why he doesn't believe me. He said abuse victims typically find it hard to share their abuse especially when they don't want others to worry. Which is what he thinks I'm doing."

Tom's lips pinched in a tight line.

"And…" she continued, playing with the buttons on his robes, wondering if it was wise to be so close to him when he was about to get pissed off again. "I may have been quick to say that I don't think he cares about my wellbeing because I never concealed how horrible my relatives were and he never cared to check in on me then."

Harry met his eyes nervously. He was scowling, calculatively and she blinked when she realized he was reading her memories. Despite the blink, he already saw enough and smirked.

"The look on his face when you said that… you really are something, Harry," he said.

"Wait, you're not mad?" she asked, startled.

"No, why would I be mad?"

"He trusts me less. You said you wanted him to still trust me."

"Well, to me it sounds like he still wants to tell you about the Horcruxes and he did that even after you humbled him. Keep ridiculing him, it keeps things entertaining for me."

With a soft groan, Harry turned her head on the pillow. Her eyes fluttered open to be greeted with the sight of a fully lit room. Not her room. Slowly turning her head back, she was met with the sight of her sleeping husband. Her unfairly handsome husband. He looked the calmest and most peaceful like this. Harry resisted the urge to poke his face and check if he was real.

Quietly, she tiptoed out of bed to freshen up in the bathroom. When she returned, he was still asleep. She climbed back in the bed and cupped his face, running her thumb over his cheekbone. Unlike her, his eyes snapped open in alarm before gazing at her in confusion.

"Morning," Harry smiled, ignoring his momentary distrust. He woke up like that every time: not expecting someone else in his bed because he would never be stupid enough to let someone near him while he slept.

Gradually, his expression relaxed.

"Happy birthday," she added.

He tensed up again.

"What?"

"Happy birthday," she repeated, looking at him funny. "It's the 31st. Your birthday."

"How do you know when my birthday is?" he asked, sitting up.

She hesitated for a moment. Did he hate his birthday? But he loved everything about himself… Well, everything he created and controlled.

"I think I saw it in one of the memories, I can't remember too well now. I just remember thinking it was an easy day to remember because it's also the last day of the year."

He didn't say anything to that. Pushing the duvet back, he was about to get up when Harry pulled him back down.

"Hang on," she said. "I haven't given you your birthday present yet."

He raised his eyebrows as she climbed over him. "You've already given me your virginity, what more can you do?"

"So much," she said mischievously. Then, because she had no experience, "At least I hope so… I've never really tried this, but I've wanted to."

She tugged his boxers down and grasped him gently in her hand. It was still something to get used to. Unlike him, she hadn't had the chance to explore his body. Their sexual endeavours mainly consisted of him making her cum while he took what he wanted.

"Alright," he smirked, resting his head on her arms. "Let's see what you got."

Well, now she was nervous. Harry gulped as she looked into his expectant gaze, and shifted her focus back to his cock. She stroked her hand up and down, watching in fascination as he hardened. Her eyes flit back up to see his eyes were closed. It was disappointing, she could understand his need to maintain eye contact with her now.

Tom let out a soft groan and that was all Harry needed to continue.

She couldn't be bad at it right? It was hard to be bad, wasn't it? Unless she hurt him, she couldn't imagine a way this wouldn't feel good.

Lowering her head, she wrapped her lips around his cock. His eyes blew open. Carefully, she went lower, to see how much of him she could take in her mouth.

Surprisingly, more than she expected.

Tom's chest was rising and falling rapidly. Harry sucked on his cock and followed his reactions for what to do more. His fingers tangled in her hair and—she anticipated this would come—he gently pushed her head back down. Harry allowed him to move her as he pleased. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could remember tips Parvati gave him. She relaxed her throat as much as she could to take him deep in her mouth, but soon she was gagging.

He came, shooting his load over her freshly washed face.

To make it worse, he spread his cum around her face and chuckled. "This is a nice birthday present."

"Tom," she whined, slapping his hand away. He kept laughing as she headed back to the bathroom to wash her face again.

It's fine, Harry, she told herself, it's his special day today.

Harry put on one of her nicer dresses and several of her rings, a few bracelets and her biggest earrings.

"You're very dressed up," he commented when he saw her downstairs at breakfast.

"I thought this was how you wanted me to dress up."

"It is."

"Well, that's why I did it."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Is this like another birthday present?" he asked.

"Mhm," Harry nodded, her mouth full of strawberries. "And there's more."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because it's your birthday."

"Just a few weeks ago you hated me. And now you're showering me with presents for my birthday?"

"It's what husbands and wives do for each other," she shrugged.

"And we're not the regular kind who love each other, so why don't you tell me what this is really about?"

"It's about nothing!" she insisted. "I just wanted to do a nice thing. Sorry for trying."

He didn't buy it.

A few moments of quiet silence later, he looked at her again.

"You're expecting me to do the same when it's your birthday, aren't you?" he finally realized.

"I said husbands and wives do this, not just wives," she answered, confirming his suspicions.

"Alright, tell me now. What do you want?"

"My birthday is not for another seven months," Harry reminded him. "You have plenty of time to find me something."

"Harry. Tell me what it is you want," he said impatiently.

"A trip," she smiled, resting her chin on her hand and looking at him. "Somewhere warm and pretty. Like Portugal or Italy or Bali."

He rolled his eyes.

His real present was a ring she picked out for him. It was shiny things he liked best so she assumed she couldn't go wrong with a one-of-a-kind ring and an extremely rare jewel in it.

His eyes got hungrier the more she told him of its magical properties.

"And…" she said slowly.

"And what?" he asked eagerly.

"There's one more present."

"What is it?"

Masking her nerves—because she really didn't know what she was about to get herself into—Harry untied her dressing gown and let it drop to the floor by his bed. Then she laid back on the bed, naked, and said, "Whatever you want to do… you can."

The hungry look was back in eyes, but more intensified. Without taking his gaze off her, he walked closer.

"Anything?"

"Anything," she confirmed.

"Whatever I want?" he asked, making her more nervous.

"Well, yes, but that's assuming you don't force me to do something I will hate…"

He didn't say anything else, just climbed over her and pulled her in a slow, deep kiss, running his hands all over her body.

"How long do I have?" he asked. Harry let out a slow breath of relief. For a moment, she feared she gave him too much control. But he was still her Tom. He just handed her some of the control back.

"Until morning," she said, tilting her head back to give him more access to her neck.

He had a bondage kink—she should have known it was something BDSM-related.

Her hands were tied up, her ankles were anchored down spread apart, and he had a handy spell that shocked her with the right amount of pain to be soothed over with pleasure.

It was not something Harry had ever looked forward to. In fact, when he started to tie her up, she wanted to go back on her word. But beneath every layer of the kind(ish) and sweet(ish) husband he wore, he was still Lord Voldemort. And the last person she wanted to "owe" something was to a man who milked every opportunity for what it was worth.

Like right now, how he was milking everything Harry would allow him to do.

She found that she didn't mind it so much after a while. It was nerve-wracking getting into, especially since she let herself get tied into a very revealing position that did little to stop anything. When it started, and he made her cum twice already, she decided to keep playing it out and seeing where it was going. Needless to say, she put too much trust in him he didn't deserve.

He didn't disappoint that trust today.

He was testing her limits. Seeing how far he could go before she got uncomfortable. How reactive she was. How long her endurance was. He made note of each of her reactions and all her sounds, logging the information for future use.

Harry nearly passed out around four in the morning, which finally made him stop.

He flopped down next to her and with the flick of his wrist, all the bindings came off her.

"That was fun," he beamed.

Harry, red-faced and sweaty, looked at him. It was one of the first genuine smiles she's ever seen on his face. Only took about four months into the marriage for him to be genuinely happy with her. Four months, and hours and hours of being tied up at his mercy.

"Did you not have fun?" he frowned, looking over at her after she failed to respond. His concern mounted when Harry stood on shaky legs only to fall to the floor. "Harry!"

"I'm fine," she choked out. "Just really tired."

She only came about twenty times. Every nerve on her body was on fire.

"I'm going to take a bath," she announced, crawling to the bathroom. He came around the bed to pick her up but as soon as she saw him advance, she raised a hand to hold him back. "No, don't touch me!"

His frown deepened.

Harry stood again and made it to the bathroom. She let the water run colder than usual to bring her body temperature back down. Very carefully, she washed all the fluids off her body, hair and face.

When she returned from the cloudy space where her mind was just foggy, and more alert again, Harry stepped out of the bath, freezing. She wrapped a towel around herself and walked back into the room to see Tom pacing.

"You were the one who told me to do whatever I wanted!" he said accusingly, the moment his eyes landed on her.

"I know," Harry replied, walking around him to the closet in search of something warm to wear for bed. He grabbed her wrist and turned her back.

"This wasn't my idea—I didn't ask for anything for my birthday. You were the one who insisted on this! And on the day before you were supposed to meet Dumbledore—that's why you did it, isn't it? He put you up to this?"

His eyes burned red again as he leaned closer, glaring at her.

"Tom, what the hell is wrong with you?" Harry asked, trying to pull herself out of his grip. "I don't get it, what's your problem?! I thought you were happy—"

"You! You are my problem! You flaunting yourself around to woo me and using your womanly wiles to lure me into a trap. Well, let me tell you this: you're not seeing Dumbledore tomorrow! You're not going!"

Harry blinked in surprise. She had never wanted to meet with Dumbledore, it was him who said she should go.

Backtracking, she tried to figure out what the problem was.

"I don't understand where this is all coming from? You were just—a moment ago before I went to bathe you were happy! Do you regret it?"

"Don't act stupid. You know how I am and you presented me with a golden opportunity to take what I wanted only to crawl away from me and not let me touch you. If it was too much you could have said something. I can't believe that after everything I've done to make you feel—"

So this was about him thinking she tricked him into doing all this stuff so she could claim he hurt her and get a divorce. Wow, his mind really loved to jump to conclusions.

"Tom!" she shouted, cutting off his ramblings. "I'm not scared or hurt or anything! I'm okay," she said. Reaching down to grab his hands, she said, "I didn't want you to touch me because I was really sensitive. You made me come for hours. Now, I don't know what your body is like after splitting your soul seven times, but the rest of us can feel a lot. I wasn't crawling away from you, I was just crawling to the bathroom to clean myself and cool my body down so I can function again. Jesus, you sure know how to blow your fuse over nothing."

With that she dropped his hands and turned away from him. She was too tired to have a full on argument, or go to her own room.

"Now, if you still don't want me to see Dumbledore, I'm more than fine with that, it gives me time to sleep in. Preferably in your bed because I'm too tired to go back to mine," she said. Using her wand, she stripped the bed down and had it recovered in clean sheets. Then she slipped in the bed and looked back at him. "Are you going to stand there all night?"

"You're lying to me."

Frowning, Harry sat up. "What would I be lying about?"

"Harry, I'm not stupid. This is too good to be true. Something's not right."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment and Harry felt more sad than mad.

"Tom, it was your birthday. I wanted to do something nice—"

"Why would you want to do anything nice for me?" he asked her coldly.

"Because you're nice to me. At least you're nicer to me than you are to everyone else. And I thought we established I was making a bargain. I figured this was a good enough price to secure a trip for my birthday."

Again, she tried to make light of the situation, "You'll have to promise, though, that you'll take me even if we're fighting at the time."

He still didn't move.

"Tom, what's worrying you now? I didn't set you up! I've even just said I won't go to see Dumbledore," she said. "Come to bed. Please?"

He didn't listen to her. Instead she sat up and watched him pace back and forth again. Was he really that critical of a nice gesture? Did Harry really look so bad after they were done that he was worried it was bad enough for her to be able to end their marriage over?

She didn't even think she wanted to end it. Not just for political gain, but also because she was just starting to get comfortable. Divorcing him would mean having to find someone to love her for real to hold her and kiss her the way he does.

Eventually he walked over to the bed. Harry pulled back the duvet for him and he slid in, turning his back to her.

"Tom, please don't be mad," she whispered.

It was pathetic. Utterly pathetic. He should be the one to grovel for her because marrying her was better than any fantasy he could have cooked up for himself. And yet, it was her because she wasn't as detached from feelings as he was. She felt everything. She felt a lot. And she had never felt as warm and secure in his arms, with his locket on, with his possessive and hungry gaze on her and only her. How could Harry give up all that and go back to sleeping in a cold and empty bed?

Harry lifted herself up on one elbow and stared down at him.

"I'm sorry what I did upset you, but I wasn't trying to get away from you. I mean, I was, but only because I was overly sensitive and needed a few minutes to cool down before coming back to sleep. You didn't hurt me. It was a little wilder than I expected, but you still had my consent the whole time, I promise! And I'm willing to do it again for you," she insisted.

He was really happy for the first time since their marriage. Maybe it was because he never had anyone else to have kinky BDSM sex with before (though she couldn't imagine Bellatrix turning that down) or maybe it was because he was happy that his wife happened to be okay with it. Maybe it was the first time he was sexually satisfied. Or maybe it was the sick pleasure he derived in knowing he was taking away her innocence and corrupting her, something that would anger a lot of people close to her. Regardless of what it was, it made him happy.

And that meant she had another tool under her belt.

She wasn't lying when she said she would be willing to do it again. Maybe with time she'll like it as much as he does, but at the moment she didn't hate it. And the outcome was certainly worth the cost.

He didn't respond again. Harry gave up and dropped back down to sleep.