5 years later
"Kingsley, I've already told you I looked at the artifact, there's nothing suspicious about it," Harry sighed, looking up from the papers in her office.
"I'm sure you have, Potter."
He was the only one who insisted on still calling her 'Potter'. Everyone else she worked with in the Ministry called her, 'Harry' 'My Lady' or simply 'Madam'. People were either fearful of offending her due to her high status, or she knew them too personally.
While she had won over the majority of the Auror Office, Kingsley was still too cautious to entrust her with any real work. It's why he exerted his power over her by not calling her by her first name, and at the same time choosing not to acknowledge her marriage. It's also why she was not officially working for the Auror Office.
Tom tried to push for Harry to be head of the Auror Office, something that no one was going to do seeing as she hadn't even attended the Academy. And also because she was married to a Dark Lord and had conflict of interest. Some of the dark wizards they were doing investigations on were regular dinner guests at her house.
Instead, Lucius created a new position for her. For a while she (begrudgingly) worked as his assistant, but it helped her learn the system and dynamic of the DMLE. From there she found a cozy spot for herself in the Council of Magical Law, though she still often worked closely with Lucius.
Her work for Kingsley was mainly a side thing she did in her free time—which was not a lot to spare. The Auror Office consisted half of people who were skeptical of her stance due to being so close to Lord Voldemort, and half of people who were her friends, or her parents' friends.
Kingsley teetered between the two several times. Harry was certain her increasingly hostile interactions with Dumbledore were cause for his wavering trust in her. It was for this reason that she chose not to work in the department at all. Because why should she work for someone who strictly followed Dumbledore's word on what was good and bad, and who failed to recognize that she, Harry Potter, had made some of the biggest sacrifices to fight the Dark Arts her whole life?
Despite not having field experience for as long as some of the other Aurors had, it was undeniable that Harry's brushes with the Dark Arts were far beyond what anyone her age should have sustained or survived. She still had a better understanding of it than they did—in fact, she probably had even more understanding since her own husband was extremely skilled in the Dark Arts.
Sure, she was really looking forward to working with Ron again and possibly even getting to go on missions with him. But that was an old dream that just didn't fit with her new life. Eventually, somewhere down the line, she would end up face to face with her husband and the last thing she needed was Tom meddling with her work at the Ministry too.
He was disappointed she didn't want to stay in that department (Harry had a secret theory that he believed she was his ticket to conquer the only department that failed to fall under his control).
If it wasn't for Lucius coming up with a new position to put her in, that not only was the entry-level work she needed, but also put her above Kingsley, they would have had a significant amount more fights than they usually did.
No, Harry was happy where she was. She had her own office on the second floor, it was wide and spacious, and Hermione popped in all the time. She knew everything Lucius was doing or going to do, probably more than he was even aware of, and being part of the Council of Magical Law meant she oversaw cases of 'criminals' and judged what their punishments should be like. She only offered her expertise to the Auror Office to act as a consultant, something that Kingsley was beginning to abuse now that he remembered what a great asset she was.
"But I know you had that bill draft you were stressing over at the time," Kingsley added. "I'm only asking you to give it a second glance."
"You have an arsenal of magical detectors and skilled Aurors to do that, why are you coming to me?" she asked.
He sighed deeply. "You know why."
"No," Harry shrugged. "I don't."
"Damn it, Potter," he grumbled. "You're better than more than half my Aurors and more accurate than any of my dark detectors."
Harry smiled sweetly. "I know," she chirped. "I just wanted you to say it out loud." Just like he liked to emphasize that he was Head of the Auror Office and not anyone affiliated with Voldemort, she liked to remind him of his loss.
She stood up, walked to the door, and held it open for Kingsley as he glared at her.
"I admit, hesitating to let you into my department was a mistake," Kingsley said to her as they walked.
"You didn't 'hesitate' to let me in," Harry scoffed. "You flat out rejected me. Loudly. In front of everyone in the office."
Harry would never forget the shame that burned through her as her friends, and other strangers she hadn't met yet, watched while she was given a talking down to for even thinking she could work in that department.
"I rejected your proposal to be Head Auror, not an Auror."
"That was not my proposal, I didn't even know that was what the note said! And no, your exact words were, 'Potter, how big of a dumbass do you take me to be to let you into this department?'."
"Alright, I'm sorry," he apologized (for the fourteenth time). "I did not mean for it to sound like that. I was just astounded because everyone knows who your husband is and you just came to me with Lucius Malfoy and a note that said you were to be the next Head Auror."
Harry rolled her eyes. Tom was so stupid for thinking he could get away with that. And for thinking Harry would want that. She made it clear to him that her work would be for her. Not for him. She wasn't entering the Ministry as a follower of his looking for the best position to be the greatest asset to him.
In the Auror Office, she greeted all the people she became friends with, stopping to catch up with Tonks about Remus and Teddy.
"You must bring him around the Manor again," Harry insisted earnestly. Tonks' smile faltered. "Tom's going away for a week, and we'll only stay on the grounds," she reassured her. "Of course, you can assess the area yourself to make sure it's safe, but we just added a pool in the garden that I think he will love."
Teddy was her three-year-old godson and she almost loved him more than she loved Tom. He was a bundle of joy, the perfect mix between Tonks and Remus' characters, and the best at giving hugs. She spoiled him rotten, something his parents were trying to dissuade but when would she get the chance to do so again? Tom was still adamant on not having kids, Harry was beginning to lose hope of ever having a child of her own.
"I'll talk with Remus about it," Tonks promised, covering Harry's hand with her own.
Harry beamed at her before heading to Ron's cubicle where she unintentionally startled him. "Sorry," she grinned, when he gasped. "How are you?"
"Tired, you?"
"Is everything alright?" Harry frowned. Him and Hermione had a kid now, little Rose. She turned two just last month. Harry also loved her to bits, but she could be a handful.
The good thing about working in the same building as her friends meant she was up to date on everything in their lives. After spending almost a year and a half in isolation—that was how long it took to convince Tom that Harry wasn't going to die if she worked in the Ministry—she was almost obsessively trying to keep up with everyone's lives. She missed out on a lot in that first year and a half, and she was not trying to miss out any more. She wanted to be a constant presence in their lives too.
A small part of her was always worried she'd be the friend that got phased out of the group. Hermione was a Weasley now, she'd never go away. Remus found a permanent job alongside Mr. Weasley, he was around for Sunday dinner almost every week with his wife and son. Luna went travelling with Ginny—for Ginny it was Quidditch-related, for Luna it was adventure-related. She was on a mission to record and document as many magical beasts, so basically becoming the next Newt Scamander.
They all had things that connected them and kept them close. All while Harry was way too close to a Dark wizard that they feared.
At first, Hermione was on a mission to redeem Tom's image and let everyone see that he might not be as terrible of a person as they thought. She had some very good points too. Unfortunately for her (and Harry), Tom took too much pleasure in riling her up and wasn't the most respectful a few times. They gave dinner a few more tries and each time ended worse than the last. Hermione had all but given up trying to convince everyone that Harry had a good husband.
Ron looked up at her and sighed with tired eyes. "I've just been trying to put in more hours."
"How come?" Harry frowned, resisting the urge to offer him any amount of money he may need. She knew now, just as well as she did when she was twelve, that people didn't like to be viewed as charity cases.
Not to mention, her eagerness to help out was also rooted in the fear that she was going to be left out of things. Like Sunday dinners. She was never at those and something exciting always happened. Charlie proposed to his girlfriend at a Sunday dinner. Bill and Fleur announced they were expecting for the second time at a Sunday dinner. Remus and Mr. Weasley announced they were going to be working together at a Sunday dinner. (Harry didn't find out for three weeks after, because no one thought to tell her because it always feels like everyone was at Sunday dinner.)
Since she started working, she saw less of Tom. It was an unspoken rule that the weekends, or pretty much any time she wasn't at work, was dedicated to him.
"I want to take Hermione on vacation. She's been working too hard lately, you know?" he explained. Harry nodded. She did know. It wasn't even anything that could be helped, Hermione was just wired to go above and beyond for everything she did. "She's the better one at saving money, so we can't use what she has. If I just work a few more hours everyday, I'll have enough by next week to take her somewhere really nice. Any suggestions?"
Harry's concerned expression shifted to a thoughtful one. "I really enjoyed Santorini," she said. Her and Tom could afford to go on vacations regularly. They went almost twice a year. "I think Hermione might like it there. There's a good balance of sun, good food, and old magic to learn about."
Ron nodded in agreement.
"Potter!" Kingsley called out from across the room.
"I have to go," Harry sighed, moving away from Ron's desk and straightening her robes.
The verdict was the same as last, as she told Kingsley.
"Are you absolutely sure?" he stressed.
Harry sighed for the millionth time. "I'm bringing my consultation rate up if you ask me to check it again."
"Perhaps if you had some more time with it?" he suggested. "What if you… took it home? You can bring it back tomorrow."
Harry looked up at him strangely.
"Kingsley," she started slowly, "You do know who my husband is, right? There's nothing wrong with this thing but an hour with him and then you have a real cursed object. That's if he chooses to let you have it back. I can't wrestle it off him to return if he decides he likes it."
This object—a small spyglass—certainly had elements of some darkness, but it was not tampered with as far as she could tell. That's why Kingsley was so skeptical. To Harry, this felt like regular items in her house. Her china set had a similar vibe and they've done nothing to harm her or any of their guests yet.
"Maybe… he could give some insight—"
"He has no obligation to give the Auror Office any help, if that's what you were hoping for," Harry deadpanned.
When she was a teenager, she looked up to Kingsley. He was cool with all his knowledge and skills. Now that she's worked with him a bit, she was learning that he was actually quite hypocritical. It took some time away for Harry to realize that quite a few people in the Order were.
They always spoke of Tom in a disgusted way, as if he was still an enemy they needed to ward off. Until they reached a dead end on an issue and suddenly remembered how skilled he was and the time he cured Hermione of the illness no one else could. Then it became acceptable to use him.
She had gotten a few requests like that in the past few years. All from Kingsley and usually with issues of severe danger rather than a useless spyglass. Harry turned down all his requests, she didn't even bat an eye when he tried to guilt-trip her by telling her how many lives they could save.
"Kingsley, I've already told you," Harry frowned, "You don't want to get him involved in any of your work. The last thing you want is to owe him a favour. Give him an inch and he'll take a mile. Next thing you know, he's lording over all your work here. And all for what? A stupid spyglass," she rolled her eyes, handing the object back to him and returned to her own office.
Two knocks sounded at her door before it opened enough for Hermione to stick her head in.
"Busy?" she asked.
Harry was busy, but not for her friend.
"No, what's up?" she asked, waving her wand to conceal the documents she was reading over.
"I need a favour," Hermione said sheepishly, sitting across from her. "Can you get me into a meeting with Marcus Ogden? If I could convince him then my boss' word means nothing."
"Is this about the merpeople thing?" Harry asked, sipping her coffee.
"Yes, unfortunately, I'm still on that," Hermione shook her head, some of her curls coming loose from the updo. "I should have been done ages ago but Robert is being really slow."
"I'm meeting Marcus Ogden in an hour, actually," Harry said, checking her calendar. "You're welcome to sit in the meeting and see if you can talk with him after."
"Thank you."
Harry watched her reaction closely, identifying the signs of stress and frustration.
"This is about something more?" she pried.
Hermione debated with herself before sharing what was troubling her.
"It's Ron," she sighed.
"Ron? What happened?" Harry asked.
"He's working too hard!"
"Funny, he just said the same thing about you an hour ago."
"He's barely able to function when he gets home and I've told him to take it easy but he's insistent on being a good dad so he reads to Rose every night and then falls asleep in her room and it breaks my heart having to wake him up! I'm going to have a word with Kingsley about this—its ridiculous that he's having Ron work so late—"
"Actually, it's not Kingsley's fault, it's Ron himself."
"What?"
"He's working overtime to make extra money so you two can go on vacation. He says he thinks you need it."
Here, Hermione teared up a little. Her middle finger shot up to the corner of her eye as she squeaked, "See, if he could just tell me that! I don't need a vacation—"
"He wants to," Harry repeated gently. "Just like he wants to be a good dad. He's a hard worker and a good person, you can't change that."
"You know, a vacation does sound like something we both need, but I wish he would just tell me so I can help him," she added. "I have money saved! We're meant to be a team."
"Just have a talk with him about it," Harry said reassuringly, rubbing her shoulder as she walked past Hermione to a filing cabinet. "Also we have that meeting in an hour, do you want to grab lunch?"
"Harry!" Teddy shot like a bullet, running straight towards her. Harry engulfed him in a hug and picked him up. His short hair was the same shade as hers, his eyes an emerald green to mimic hers as well. He did this every time he visited or met someone new—changed his face to theirs. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too, Teddy," Harry beamed, peppering him with kisses. Teddy looked around for his gift—something he received every time he saw Harry and which was probably the reason why he missed her. "Looking for this?" she asked, summoning a wrapped box. She set him down so he could tear into the box that was half his size, filled with new toys.
"Harry, you shouldn't have," Tonks said quietly, a small smile on her lips.
"It's nothing," Harry shook her head, watching happily as Teddy examined each toy with excitement.
"No, really, its beginning to get too much," Tonks said, leaning back on her chair. Harry had the house elves set up a table with lunch spread across it in the garden. She knew Tonks still had reservations about being too close to the house. The only reason Harry continuously upgraded the garden and installed a pool was so they could have a place in her house to hang out.
"I'm sorry, I'll try to cut back," Harry promised, sitting across from Tonks and pouring her a cup of tea. "How are you? How's Remus?"
"He's doing great. Better than ever, I'd say. The income from his job is low, but it's consistent and stable which I think keeps him happy."
"That's wonderful," Harry smiled warmly.
They fell into easy conversation. Tonks was always someone Harry could rely on and speak freely too. She was happy they still had that years later.
Teddy wanted to swim in the pool, so while Tonks watched tiredly, Harry played with him. She charmed their clothes with an Impervius and together, they took a running dive into it. She taught him how to cannonball, resulting in a lot of water being splashed around.
"Already, children, the food is ready," Tonks called out, when lunch was served. Harry dragged Teddy out of the water, dried them both and they walked to the table with wide grins on their faces.
"I don't remember the last time I did that," Harry shared, a little embarrassed now that she was behaving so childishly. "Sorry about that."
"Oh, there's no need to be sorry," Tonks said quickly. "I'd be jumping all in there too if I wasn't, you know, half on-duty."
'Half on-duty' was the excuse Tonks used whenever she came over. Harry thinks she tried to play it off as something Kingsley was making her do, but really it was just for her own peace of mind to be aware of everything around them for every second she was at the Manor.
Harry nodded and gulped, focusing on her food. Teddy sat really close to her so Harry pulled him up on her lap to feed him. The house elves made all his favourite foods—chicken wings, mini pepperoni pizzas, mac and cheese. They also added some adult food in there as well for Harry and Tonks.
"Alright, that's enough of the chicken wings, don't you think?" Harry said, pulled the half eaten wing away from him. He only ate them half-way, leaving Harry to finish the rest, but somehow he managed to get all the sauce around his face.
"It's as if he only wants the sauce, but keeps missing his mouth," Tonks remarked, making Harry giggle.
She wiped Teddy's face with a napkin and cleaned his fingers off too, before dabbing the corners of her own mouth.
"Here," she held a mini pizza out for him, but instead of grabbing it, Teddy moved his face forward to eat out of her hand. It was more endearing to her than it should have been, making Harry smile against her will.
She was so caught up in feeding Teddy and doting over him that she didn't notice Tonks suddenly tense up and clutch her wand.
"Harry," Tonks said sharply.
"Hm? Huh?" Harry looked up at her and blinked in confusion before turning her gaze to the entryway between tall bushes where Tom stood. "Tom!" she gasped.
His eyebrows dipped as he gazed at the small group.
"What are you doing here?" she asked in alarm. He was supposed to be in Denmark starting today.
"What are you doing?" he asked Harry, while his distrustful eyes were set on Tonks (who was fighting the instinct to point her wand at him so as to not frighten her son).
"I-I thought you were leaving today," Harry explained sheepishly. He didn't know she'd been inviting Remus, Tonks and Teddy over for a couple years now. The visits were far and spread apart, but there had been several.
"And this is what you do when you think I'm not home?" he asked coolly.
"They're just guests, it's not illegal," Harry argued.
"Your guest is an Auror," his cold eyes snapped to her in displeasure.
"My guest is my godson and his mother," she said fiercely.
"Oh, so this is your godson, the Metamorph—"
He finally turned his gaze to the child on her lap that neither woman wanted him to notice and at once, his face turned blank.
Harry turned her attention back to Teddy, wondering how she could hand him off to Tonks without making it seem like she was worried in any way. She knew Tom wouldn't harm them, but she also knew Tonks was seconds away from tossing the table aside to grab her son and leave.
Except, when she did look down at Teddy, her heart stopped.
He changed his face again. He was wearing Tom's face, a new person he just met. He was a little child, in her arms, wearing her husband's face. The most devastating part was that he kept her green eyes—he probably didn't like Tom's red ones.
"Oh, Teddy," Harry whispered, brushing her fingers across his soft, curly, dark hair. Gazing down at him forlornly, she stroked his chubby cheek. She couldn't take her eyes off him, and yet deep down she knew this wasn't right. "Dora," she choked out, using the name she only used in certain situations, and looked up at Tonks in desperation.
Standing, she handed Teddy back to his mother, who coaxed him to change his features back to his own. Teddy, however, didn't listen. His eyes were fixed on Tom, the mysterious and brooding stranger, while Tom simply glared back at him.
Harry's lips pressed together tight, in an effort to contain her tears and composure.
"We should probably leave now," Tonks muttered, one hand holding her wand tightly and the other holding her son to herself even tighter.
"Yeah," Harry whispered wetly. She was in no condition to properly say goodbye or see her guest out, not that Tonks cared. She was gone in seconds.
After they left, Harry closed her eyes tightly but the image of Teddy with Tom's face was seared into her brain.
She longed for a child of her own, this wasn't news to her or anyone around them. With the way she spoiled Teddy and was almost obsessively making plans to see him, to the way she dropped by Hermione and Ron's spontaneously to shower Rose with gifts—everyone else knew it too.
Harry just didn't expect to be affected so terribly seeing what a child with a mix of her and Tom's features would look like. She didn't want to remember what it felt like to hold him in those precious few seconds, how perfect it all was.
Turning her back to Tom to stack the dirty plates, Harry used this moment to subtly wipe the corners of her eyes and compose herself. When she did face him again, it was clear he wasn't buying her facade. He had a scowl on his face and his lips were pressed the way they were when he wasn't happy about something. His eyes scanned her face, detailing her wistful expression.
"So, erm," Harry coughed awkwardly, feeling her mind clear a little. "How come you're not in Denmark?"
"Something came up. I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Oh," Harry nodded. That made sense. "I wish you told me."
Then she would have scheduled this lunch for another day. Now who knows how long it would be before Tonks allows Teddy to come back.
"I was hoping to be spontaneous and surprise you with a special day just for us," he responded.
"Oh," Harry's heart broke a little more. "That's very sweet. Erm, what did you have planned? Can we still do it?"
"Of course," he whispered, still frowning at her because she was still clearly upset.
"Alright, I'll, just, erm… change," Harry said, walking past him into the Manor.
She couldn't blame him. He was trying to do something nice for her. Romantic gestures were a thing she appreciated, especially coming from him. And it was her fault for not telling him she was inviting people over. She should have waited until she was certain he was gone, maybe a day or two, but Harry was so eager to see Teddy and show him the new pool, she could hardly wait an extra day.
When Harry came down to the entrance hall, changed into a nicer outfit with more jewelry on, she was greeted by Tom's appreciative grin. It was as if the incident earlier didn't even happen. Harry was more than happy to play along. She smiled shyly when he kissed the back of her hand and presented her with a rose.
"Did you steal this from my garden?" she slapped his chest playfully, after taking a whiff of the scent.
"The grounds your garden is on belong to me," he pointed out.
Harry rolled her eyes and pressed a long kiss to his lips. Tom's arms wound around her waist and he gazed down at her with a relaxed smile on his lips.
She was fine with just this. Just them. It was still perfect.
He had a Portkey made to a charming town in Sicily, where they vacationed for the third anniversary. It was a place both enjoyed immensely, Tom was especially taken with the archeological sites and Harry with the food.
They spent the day exploring places they didn't get to last time—she was surprised with how good his memory was of the things she wanted to do. Their night in Sicily ended with dinner at their favourite restaurant. Tom listened intently as Harry spoke about her work, the Council, the meeting with Marcus Ogden, Hermione and the artifact Kingsley asked her to check twice.
"You should bring your consultation rate up," he chipped in, sipping on wine.
"That's what I said!" Harry grinned, turning back to her dessert. "He's so suspicious of me because of you," she shared. He looked up. "But he still asks me to do a lot because of my skills. He can't be both," she argued, waving her fork. "He can't be suspicious and demanding."
Tom hummed in agreement, still looking at her.
Harry changed the subject before he could suggest she work for that department again.
The Portkey took them back home the same night. In their bedroom, Harry got ready for bed while Tom answered a call from Lucius. He returned when she was in her nightgown and brushing her hair.
"So, how long has your godson and his Auror mother been coming to my house?" he asked casually, unbuttoning his shirt.
"Hm?" Harry squeaked. She had hoped that he would forget about that little detail—but with memory like his, she wasn't surprised he didn't.
"You heard me."
"Erm, about two years?" she admitted quietly.
"Two years?!"
Thinking back on it now, keeping it a secret was not a good idea. Why did she think he wouldn't find out?
"They don't come regularly. They've only been here about five times."
"Five times," he hissed, pinning her with a hard look.
"What? It's not that big of a deal!" Harry insisted, turning in her chair.
"That's five times an Auror was at my manor that I didn't know about! How could you not tell me?" he growled, before turning away from her to run his hands through his hair. Probably to prevent ruining their nice day. He had thought he could let it slide in favour of catering to his wife, she was away a lot and he needed to feel close to her, but coming back home meant returning to your problems. Problems that same wife just created for him.
"She never came inside," Harry explained, standing up. "I promise you. I swear to you. She never came inside, she always stayed on the grounds—"
Tom's anger wasn't alleviating at all. He came closer and roughly grabbed her chin.
"I don't care if she was on the grounds, inside the Manor, or outside the gates. She's been coming here for two fucking years? And you're telling me now?!" His eyes were wide and manic. "Does she know where the house is? How does she get here?" he fired question after question, unintentionally shaking her.
Harry, realizing just how badly she fucked up, started to tear up.
"N-no, she doesn't," she said. "I Apparate them in."
"Every time?" his piercing gaze stared into her eyes unblinkingly. He hadn't had to look into her mind for quick access to the truth in a long time.
"Every time," she confirmed, feeling him calm down a bit.
"Have you ever made a Portkey? Even if it wasn't used?"
"No," she answered truthfully. He let out a small sigh and released his hold on her. "Tom, I'm sorry."
He didn't listen, instead he turned away to head out of the room.
"Where are you going?" she called.
"I have work to do," he said. She knew he was lying because his shirt was unbuttoned, he had been getting ready for bed.
"What work?" she asked, suddenly realizing something horrible. "Y-you're not going to do anything to them, are you?" Harry ran up to grab his arm and hold him back before he could leave. "Tom—tell me you won't do anything to them! Please—"
"I'm not going to them," Tom snarled. "I've nothing to do with them. I'm leaving because I need to get away from you."
Somehow that hurt worse.
"Oh," Harry's chin wobbled as she retracted her hand. "But… why? We were—we were fine today! Everything was alright, I don't get it—"
"I convinced myself what you did was not so bad. I hadn't realized that you kept this a secret from me for two years."
With that, he stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving Harry alone.
He was off to Denmark the next morning before she even came down for breakfast. The guilt in Harry's gut intensified. To soothe it, she went to visit Tonks and Remus.
"Harry," Remus greeted her at the door. "Come in, please."
"Sorry, I know I came unannounced. This isn't a bad time, is it?"
"Not at all. Dora and I were just about to head for work, but we won't be terribly missed if we're late."
"I won't stay that long," Harry assured him, heading to the kitchen where Teddy was finishing up his breakfast.
"Harry," Tonks looked up in surprise while Teddy ran up to hug her.
"Harry! Did you bring me more presents?" he asked when she picked him up.
"Not today, love," she answered apologetically. This was the first time she was holding Teddy in her arms but more focused on Tonks. "Tonks… I'm so sorry."
"Harry, it's nothing," Tonks replied, though that sentiment didn't exactly reach her eyes. Remus came around to their side.
"Is this about what happened yesterday? Because I agree, Harry. Don't worry about it, it's no trouble."
Remus knew?
Of course he knows, a voice in the back of her head said, Tonks and Remus are a normal husband and wife who actually tell each other things.
"It's not, I didn't mean for—"
"Yes, well," Tonks quipped, taking Teddy away from her to wipe his face. "There's nothing we can do about it now."
Tonks had a smile on her face, but she looked far from happy. This was worse than Harry thought.
"Tonks, are we okay?" she asked timidly, sharing a glance with Remus.
"Of course we're okay, Harry," she said, not looking at her as she packed Teddy's backpack. "Teddy, come put this on, we're going to grandma's."
"Look, I'm sorry," Harry repeated, walking closer. "I know I should have kept better track of when he would be at the Manor, but—"
"Damn right, Harry!" Tonks finally blew up. "You should have kept a better track! That's your one job when it comes to these visits and you couldn't even do that right!"
"But I did the best I could, Tonks!" Harry stressed. She needed Tonks to know that she wasn't slacking when it came to Teddy's safety. "He didn't tell me he was leaving today—"
"You still should have made sure," Tonks argued. "Was he inside the whole time we were there?"
Harry bit her lip and nodded, "I think so, I'm not sure."
Tonks shook her head and helped Teddy wear his backpack.
"Dora," Harry tried again, as she walked past her to the Floo.
"Don't 'Dora' me, Harry," she said quietly. "I'm not someone who scares easily and I was really fucking scared yesterday when I saw him."
"He's not going to hurt you. Any of you. He would never do that," Harry insisted.
"I don't care. When it comes to my son, I don't like to take any chances," she said, turning back to face her. Harry had never seen her look so serious. "Which is why I don't think we'll be visiting ever again."
"Well—I can still come here, right?" Harry's eyes widened.
"Of course you can," Tonks said softer. "Just maybe… give us some time?"
Harry swallowed the hurt and nodded.
"I'm sorry about this, Harry," Tonks sighed when tears pooled in Harry's eyes. "You'd understand if you had—if you were—"
"No, no," Harry brushed her tears off, "I understand. I'm sorry again."
Tom came back two days late.
Harry couldn't imagine how livid he was. She was so stupid for hiding something from him. He even gave her the benefit of the doubt and whisked her away to Italy for a day. Only to return and learn her deception ran for longer than he expected.
The morning he returned, Harry watched from inside as he walked the perimeter of the grounds three times, casting protective enchantments. And probably stronger detective enchantments.
She sat on the marble steps in the entrance hall, waiting impatiently for the giant front doors to creak open.
When they finally did, she stood, fiddling with her fingers.
"Tom," she said, a part of her swelling with happiness and adoration at the sight of him returned safe.
He spared her a glance and a nod before heading straight up the stairs. That was a bit more than she expected from him at this stage, so her heart lifted in hope.
"Tom, I'm really sorry," she said, following him up.
"Leave it, Harry."
She couldn't leave it, not when he was giving her the cold shoulder. "If you think about it, how is it any different then when Ron and Hermione come over? Ron is an Auror, Hermione is quicker and more observant than him— together they're stronger than Tonks—"
"The difference is that I knew the Weasleys were in here, and I allowed them to be. I knew where they went, how long they stayed, and I watched their every move. You kept the Auror and your godson a secret."
"You do things behind my back—you invite people here all the time without my permission," Harry argued.
He stopped on the third floor landing and turned back to glare at her.
"Yes," he agreed quietly. "People who I know will bring no harm to you or me. Can't you see, Harry, it's not about who is in here—it's about you keeping this secret from me. You have no idea how dangerous it could have been."
His words sounded angry but his deliverance was not. He was quiet. He was quiet and disappointed.
"I'm sorry," Harry repeated for the millionth time. "Please."
"Why did you do it?" he snapped, his real anger finally surfacing.
Her excuse was not a good one, far from it.
"I… I was worried that you wouldn't let them come for the exact reasons you're angry about right now," she admitted, unable to meet his gaze.
He glared at her for another moment before shaking his head and continuing down the hall to his study. Harry didn't know whether she should follow.
"H-have you eaten?" she asked, taking a step closer. The only answer she got was the slam of his door.
"He won't talk to me," Harry mumbled into her rice and chicken bowl, in her office.
"He'll come around," Hermione said. "He always does, doesn't he?"
"I guess," she sighed. "But that's because… in a way we're trapped in this marriage. He has to come around eventually. It won't be for the reason I want."
"And the reason you want is…"
"Because he wants to? Because he cares about our relationship for what it is? Not a contract," Harry grumbled. She knew Hermione was making her say it out loud to hear her own words.
"But you understand that—"
"You know what? Nevermind, I don't want to have this conversation anymore," Harry snapped, tossing her empty bowl in the bin that immediately chewed it up.
"I'm only saying that you shouldn't beat yourself up because—"
"Because my husband is a heartless, soulless bastard who is incapable of feeling anything except greed and anger," Harry finished for her. "Drop it, Hermione, it's an old argument. One you know doesn't work because I've told you about all the things he's done for me."
Hermione raised her hands in surrender and apologized.
"Just consider it from his perspective," she said eventually. "If you found out he kept a secret from you for two years—"
"He's probably kept several," Harry interjected.
"About something that ordinarily he would have told you—"
"Alright," she rolled her eyes.
"How long would you ice him out?"
"Not as long as he is. I don't have his strength or tolerance."
"Which is exactly the point I was trying to make," Hermione mumbled under her breath, "but you attacked me for it."
Harry sighed.
Harry resigned to give Tom space. He was angry with her, rightfully so, and he wasn't taking it out as bad as he could be, so she should just leave him be.
In their room, she sat at her vanity table, brushing her hair. She wondered if Tom would come to bed or sleep in a spare one again like the last day before he left.
Gingerly, Harry toyed with the locket around her neck. She let it click open to reveal the picture of Tom she placed inside years ago.
"You put my picture in there?" a voice startled her.
Harry jumped and spun in her seat, closing the locket.
"Erm, yeah, I-I thought you knew," she said sheepishly. Slowly her eyes traveled up his broad chest to meet his gaze. His striking grey eyes.
"I didn't. How long ago did you put it in?"
"About a few months into our marriage. When I first suggested it."
His eyebrows lifted in amusement, as did Harry's heart and hope. Was he coming around?
"That early on?" he teased. She smiled shyly and shrugged a shoulder. "Why not add a picture of yourself?"
Harry stood up and cupped his cheek, staring up at him adoringly.
"You're all I need," she said simply.
His hands found her hips and his brows dipped ever so slightly.
"You say that, but I don't think it's true," he admitted.
Harry frowned. "Of course it's true. I mean it. You're all I need. You're all I want."
He turned his head to press a kiss to her palm.
"Do you forgive me?" she whispered. Harry needed to know. She needed verbal confirmation that she was forgiven.
"Yes."
"Why?" And because she couldn't just settle for a yes, she needed to know why.
He looked at her strangely. "Because as much as it keeps me on my toes, I don't like fighting with you. I'd rather do this," he said, and then he pressed light kisses around her face. Harry giggled as he trailed his kisses down her neck.
Walking backwards to the bed, she pulled them down so he was on top of her. Tom kissed her deeply as his hands worked on undressing her and himself. Eventually he got frustrated and just vanished their clothes.
"Oh," Harry moaned loudly when his fingers rubbed against her clit, at the same time that his other hand massaged her breast. She missed this. It'd been a while since they did this. She imagined the night after Italy they would have had some hot sex for hours into the morning, but that was when the fight broke out.
Realizing how long it'd been since they had sex, reminded Harry that she hadn't taken the potion.
As Tom rubbed his cock against her entrance, lining himself up to enter, she stopped him.
"Wait—" she put a hand on his chest. "I didn't…"
Harry reached a hand to the bedside table to open the drawer and grab a vial of the contraceptive potion. The drawer was full of them and close enough to the bed that it became routine to reach for a little vial in this position.
As she pulled her arm back, Tom covered her hand with his.
"Don't," he said, pulling the vial out of her grasp and tossing it back in the drawer.
"What?" she frowned in confusion, before the implication dawned. "Tom! Are you—are you saying what I think you're saying?"
He stared down at her earnestly.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't aware of how terribly you want a child. And I made a promise to you," he stroked her cheek. "To be a good husband. To give you everything you want."
"But I don't want it if I know you don't want it," she breathed, putting her hand over his. "You let me have my way with a lot of things, I know this. But a child isn't the same. It's a big decision. You must understand the responsibility and severity of that decision."
"I do," he smiled, amused. She wasn't convinced.
"Tom, I want you to give me a baby. But not if you're doing it as an obligation to me. I'll wait—however long it takes, I'll wait. When you're properly ready, then we'll have a baby."
"I'm ready now," he said, his amusement growing. She blinked in confusion. He trailed his gaze down her face. "I quite liked seeing you with a child that looks like me. A mini me, raised by a loving and powerful mother such as yourself. Born to a family of wealth and power. I'll give him everything I didn't have," he promised. "I'll raise him as I ought to have been. With the best education, with all the right connections. He'll have everything he could possibly want at the tip of his fingers. And I'll have you, my beautiful wife, round with my child in you. Our child."
Harry's eyes welled up in happy tears. She cupped his face and beamed. "Do you really mean it?"
"I do."
"Oh, Tom," she crushed her lips, pouring every ounce of love and devotion into it.
Tom pushed his cock inside, slipping in easily. He rocked his hips against her deliciously, and when he filled her up with his sperm, he stayed inside her. Until he got hard again and they had another go. And then another.
Just to be safe, they went a fourth time as well.
For weeks they had continuous sex without taking any contraceptive measures. It felt strange to skip it, but exhilarating. It reminded Harry a lot of that time several months into their marriage when they discovered how great sex together was, and it was nearly impossible to keep them apart.
Tom started to get a little obsessive about it, as he did with everything he was serious about. He may have even developed a new kink—impregnating his wife.
It certainly made things more exciting in bed.
And Harry did get pregnant, likely after the first time they had sex without the potion.
But like an idiot she completely missed the symptoms until a random Tuesday afternoon in her office.
Suddenly bolting upright, she recognized the pattern in her morning nausea and all but ran out of her office.
Bursting into Hermione's office unannounced, she startled her best friend into accidentally spilling her coffee on her lap.
"Shit. Evanesco. Harry?"
"I think I—" Harry started to shout before she thought better. Closing the door behind her she whispered, "I think I'm pregnant!"
Hermione let out a loud gasp and came around the desk to hold her hands.
"Are you sure? Have you checked? How long—"
"I don't know. I don't know—I don't know!"
"Oh my God, what is he going to say?"
"No, we came to an agreement," Harry explained. Looking down at her flat belly, she said, "This was planned."
"Oh my God, Harry!" Hermione squealed in excitement. Quickly she packed up her paperwork. "Can you take the day off? We should go check with a Healer!"
"You mean just leave work?" Harry asked. "Won't people wonder where we are? Maybe we should wait."
"Nonsense," Hermione said, pushing Harry out the door. "You need to be taken to a Healer for examination," she reasoned. "I don't imagine anyone wants to stand in the way of Lady Voldemort's health." That was a new nickname among her friends. Harry rolled her eyes. "And I need to come with you so you're not alone. We have perfectly good excuses."
"Were you even doing any work in your office?" Harry questioned in the lift. "I thought I saw a crossword on your desk."
"I'm three weeks ahead of my work," Hermione groaned. "It's not my fault Robert is slow."
"Mrs. Weasley," Dumbledore said quietly, his voice hoarse.
"Professor," Hermione smiled at him, sitting down across from him in her office. "It's so nice seeing you again. How are you? Your last letter was not very reassuring."
"So far there have been no improvements in my condition," he said plainly, but still with an optimistic smile.
"But we are hopeful," Kingsley added, next to him. Hermione glanced between the two, a little startled. "Albus is going to be completely fine, he's certainly faced worse."
"I fear this actually may be the worst," Dumbledore argued. "I got tangled with magic beyond my expertise and am now paying the price for it. All dark magic comes with a price."
"This is dark magic?" Hermione gasped, referring to Dumbledore's weary condition. "You performed dark magic?"
"Indeed. And I got bested by Voldemort," he grumbled.
"Voldemort did this?" she said in shock. "That's not—he can't… Harry—"
"I don't believe Harry will be of any help to us," he said, somewhat bitterly. "She's been… compromised, if you will, for years."
"Professor," Hermione started, with a confused frown.
"Albus," he corrected.
"Right, Albus," Hermione said, flushing lightly, "What exactly are you here to ask of me?"
"Hermione, it puts me in a terrible position to do this. But I don't have a lot of time left. I don't know who else I can turn to except you. I believe Harry has the information I need, more than she lets on."
Hermione didn't have a good feeling about this at all.
"Information on what?"
"On what keeps Voldemort powerful. Invincible."
Silence.
"Professor," she repeated.
"Albus," he corrected, again.
"Professor," Hermione emphasized, "Are you implying you would like me to weed information about Voldemort out of Harry?"
His desperate look was the only answer he gave.
"Information on how to bring down Voldemort? Her husband?" she clarified
"He's been Voldemort longer than he has been her husband. Need I remind you of his crimes?" Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but he continued. "I do not believe the charming husband act he puts on for Harry, and I'm terribly sorry she's unable to see past his recent behaviour to remember how dangerous of a man he is."
Hermione sighed sadly. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can help you."
He was not ready to accept that answer yet, in fact, he anticipated this. What he did not anticipate were Hermione's next words.
"Not only is he Harry's husband, but she loves him. She's happy with him. I'm not going to assist you in widowing her. Especially not with the child coming."
"Child?" Dumbledore blinked.
"Oh… you hadn't heard?" Hermione asked. "Harry is pregnant."
"Pregnant?!" Kingsley barked. "He got her pregnant?!"
"It's my understanding that it was planned. She's the one who has been wanting a child."
"This complicates things, Dumbledore," he said, rubbing his chin. "We can't leave a child fatherless."
"The child will have a strong enough mother to fill both positions. It would be better for it to grow up without Voldemort around anyway—"
"Excuse me?" Hermione shrieked. "I'm sorry, I'm not sitting here listening to you talk about how my best friend's child would be better off fatherless. You have no right making assumptions like that and even less for speaking them out loud! What kind of a person sits there and dictates how many parents a child needs? It's blessed to have both!"
"She's right," Kingsley nodded while Dumbledore blinked."Hermione, please sit down."
"No, I can't sit here and—"
"It's the curse," Kingsley explained. "He wouldn't be saying this if it weren't for the curse. He's not in his right state of mind anymore."
"Right," Hermione said, not fully buying it. Dumbledore may not be in his right state of mind, but the bit that was comfortable eliminating a child's parent and convinced it'll be okay, sounded all too much like the Dumbledore she knew. "I can't do it, I'm sorry."
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore started.
"It's Weasley," she sighed. "And 'Mrs.'"
He blinked. "What did I say?"
Hermione rubbed her eyes. It was difficult seeing one of the greatest minds ever wither away in front of you, but more difficult agreeing with him.
"I can't help you. I'm sorry."
"You're my last hope. He is a very dangerous man and he's growing stronger."
"He hasn't been involved in any crimes since his marriage to Harry, he hasn't been involved in anything shady at all. His record is clean. In fact," Hermione pulled out some folders from her filing cabinet. "He's been providing the Ministry with some damn good ideas."
"Did you know he's proposing to have Muggleborn children removed from their families?" Kingsley asked.
"As a matter of fact, I do," Hermione nodded. "And I agree with it. Thanks to my new friend, Marcus Ogden, I was actually put on the panel, as a Muggleborn, to assist with the writing of this bill."
"You support this?" Kingsley scowled.
"He makes a fair point," she said strongly, though her resolve was shaky.
"He's separating children from their families."
"Only from families who won't support their magical children," she specified.
"Saying it differently doesn't change what's happening," Dumbledore said.
"I'm not saying it differently, I'm saying it as it is. Magical children living with Muggles will be kept track of and any that seem to be in a bad household will be removed and placed in a safer household." She pinned Dumbledore with a stern look. "I saw what happened when you believed living with Muggle blood relatives was the best option for an ostracized magical child. You were wrong and you're wrong again with what you're requesting of me."
Harry ran a hand over her swollen belly. She was seven months along and officially on maternity leave. As demanded by her husband, not boss, mind you. Harry was perfectly fine working in her condition, Hermione had stayed in the office until past her due date. But Tom was relentless when he made up his mind, and he was even more relentless when it came to her safety.
"It's going to be a girl," he declared from behind her. His hands came around her sides to rest around her belly, his chest pressed against her back.
Harry turned to grin at him, covering his hands with her own.
"I say it's going to be a boy," she said.
"How would you know?" he asked.
"How would you know?"
"I have good intuition."
"Well, they say mother's intuition is best. And seeing as it's inside my body, I think I would know better," she teased.
"Hm, yes, because you're so good at detecting what lives inside your body."
"Shut up," Harry grumbled, one of her hands coming up to grab the locket still around her neck. Not once since he gave it to her had she parted with it. Through every argument, every fight, even some threats of divorcing him, she never took it off. She didn't want to.
Even now she didn't want to.
Reluctantly, Harry clicked the latch to open the locket. Tom's eyes zeroed in on a photo of him she somehow managed to find. Then they flicked to the other side. The once empty side of the locket now held her own picture.
"I think we should give this locket to our baby," she whispered, her heart heavy. "That way we'll both always be with him." Her misty eyes looked up to meet his gaze already on her.
"You don't have to give it away as soon as it's born," he said softly. "Why don't we save it for a special birthday or occasion? Like when she goes to Hogwarts?"
"He," Harry corrected, though her heart was lighter now. Tom was right. What was a baby going to do with a big priceless locket?
"We'll see about that," he smirked.
They prepared a nursery room for the baby and a separate delivery room for Harry. With a mediwitch and several house-elves at their disposal, they were set for a comfortable delivery at home. Or as comfortable as giving birth can get.
When her water broke, Harry immediately had both Hermione and Mrs. Weasley informed (right after the mediwitch). The two of them—along with Ginny, because she refused to miss her only opportunity to see Harry's house and, well, because of the baby—arrived within minutes.
Harry was relieved to learn that magical births were quicker and slightly easier than Muggle ones. It was still a painstaking two hours, but hearing the tiny crying at the end made it all worth it.
Brushing her sweaty hair off her face, Harry watched as the mediwitch cleaned and swaddled her baby, handing it to her with a wide smile.
Gazing down at the baby with the lightest bit of dark hair on it's head and a cute button nose, Harry didn't think she'd ever seen someone more beautiful. The tears she was unable to hold streamed down her face as she looked up at Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, showing them her baby.
Mrs. Weasley carefully passed it to Ginny and corrected her hold, to which Ginny argued that she's held enough nieces and nephews to know how to handle a baby.
When passed back to her, Harry was hit once again with fresh emotions at the reassuring weight on her arms.
Mrs. Weasley squeaked and stood up but Harry barely paid attention until she heard the voice at the door.
"Leave us," Tom said clearly, walking confidently up to Harry's bed.
Her friends around her filtered out of the room as Harry set her eyes on her beloved husband.
The door clicked shut and the ice surrounding Tom melted. At once, his face softened, gazing at her adoringly and then averting his eyes down to his child. Seeing the emotion in his eyes was enough to set Harry off again. For years she was so worried that he would never want a child, and if he one day granted her wish and gave her one, he would be cold and indifferent.
But he wasn't.
He looked curious, amused, proud, she thinks he was a little disgusted, but that was probably because every newborn she'd seen (aside from this one) was a little ugly-looking too.
Tom sat down beside Harry and she held the bundle up to him.
"Your daughter, my lord," she smiled. She started to tease him with his title because she was hearing it too often. It elicited the same reaction 'Lady Voldemort' did from her.
"I told you it was a girl," he said softly, not taking his eyes off his daughter.
"Hold her," Harry insisted, pushing the baby closer.
"I'm okay," he said uncomfortably, choosing instead to shift closer to her and wrap an arm around her shoulder.
"Tom," Harry said, slightly astonished. "Why don't you want to hold her?"
"She's… so small," he stated, his eyes running over the baby's features.
"And?"
"And tiny."
"And…?" Harry pressed, but she was beginning to see what his issue was.
"And I don't want to hurt her," he scoffed as if it was a known fact that he obliterated everything he touched.
"You won't hurt her," Harry said softly. She didn't have the energy to argue with him or she'd be angrier that he believed himself too horrible of a person to hold his own daughter. "I promise you won't hurt her. Here," she offered the baby again and this time Tom took her.
His face was blank for nearly a full minute. Harry started to wonder if he was only complying for her sake and really hated holding babies. But then a slow smile started to grow on his face and he stroked the sleeping girl's cheek.
Her eyes fluttered open, making him freeze.
"She has your eyes," he remarked quietly.
"Well, we did work together to make her," Harry responded, in the same soft volume.
"Hm," he agreed, not blinking at the baby who was staring unblinkingly back at him. "I remember that part fondly."
"Of course you do."
They called her Violet. Harry rather liked the theme of flower names for girls, and this one fit.
She wasn't a fussy baby, she was rather quiet. Harry wondered if there was something wrong with her because she didn't cry nearly as much as Rose or Teddy did when they were newborns. Then Tom made a comment about how as a baby he was said to be the quietest too, and everything made sense to Harry.
It was getting harder for her to come to terms with the fact that each day she was closer to going back to work. To leaving her baby girl with a nanny and the house elves while she maintained order in her department. Harry became one of the most important workers, being the only one who could successfully negotiate between her husband's supporters and his opposers.
The sun was beginning to set, she had to put Violet to sleep soon. However, the beautiful weather outside begged her attention, so she headed out to the garden with her baby to show her the new violets she planted for her.
She was surprised to see a bench placed across from the violets, and ever more surprised to see Tom sitting in it with his arms crossed. He was attentively watching the violets… grow?
"Tom?" Harry said, bemused. "What are you doing out here?"
One of his arms extended out across the back of the bench as she neared. Harry sat next to him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him.
"Just thinking," he answered.
"About what?" Harry asked, adjusting her grip on Violet.
Instead of an answer he gave her a soft look, which then dropped down to their baby.
"You," he responded, his gaze locking Harry in place. After everything they've been through, after all the years, his striking grey eyes still had the power to render her speechless.
"What about me?" she smiled slowly, eyes narrowing.
"Don't worry about it," he smirked, looking back at the violets and pulling her closer. "She has your eyes again."
Violet's eyes went through a few shades in the first few months before staying green. The same vivid green as her mother's.
"And your everything else," Harry remarked.
Would Violet turn out more like her father or mother? So far, she showed a lot of qualities similar to Tom. Harry wasn't sure if Tom liked that.
"I wonder if she'll be a Gryffindor," she said casually, leaning closer to Tom and holding Violet between them.
"Absolutely not," Tom scoffed right away. "No child of mine would go to any house except Slytherin."
"You never know. Sirius came from a long line of Slytherins and he went to Gryffindor."
"She has Salazar Slytherin's blood in her veins. She will speak Parseltongue. There's no house she belongs to other than Slytherin," Tom argued.
Harry grinned at him and dropped the subject. He had pride in his voice. She turned back to the violets and enjoyed the moment for what it was. A happy couple, wrapped up in each other, basking in the late sunset on a Spring evening.
Except it was more than that.
They were once mortal enemies, set ablaze on a path of death and destruction to bring the other down. Now, she gazed at him as if he hung the moon and the stars.
Alone, they flipped each other's worlds. Every part of her life that was lacking was filled by him and every bit of life he was once blind to was illuminated by her. Together, they bent fate to their will and as a result found something beautiful. Created something beautiful.
Looking down at her daughter, Harry's eyes brimmed with tears. Who would have thought that a pair destined to kill or be killed instead came together to create life?
And what a life Violet Riddle would lead.
Daughter of the fearsome and powerful Lord Voldemort, with just enough Potter blood running through her veins to add love and good fun to her adventures. A girl who had a father that would go to the ends of the earth to give her the best of the best, as is her birthright, and a mother who had all the love she missed out to give to her.
"Tom," Harry spoke suddenly, unable to meet his eyes. "I love you, you know that right?"
"Yes," he responded, confused. One of his fingers tugged on a lock of her hair. "I know."
"You gave me a family," she stated, slowly looking up at him. "I never had a real family growing up."
"Neither did I. You did just as much for me as I did for you."
"Thank you," she breathed, burrowing her head in chest. "For the life you've given me. I couldn't be happier than I am right now. I never saw myself living a real life, having a real family."
Tom was quiet and still. Harry didn't mind. He was never good at expressing his emotions, he often shied away from it. She was used to it.
"If anyone deserves a thanks, it's you," he murmured so quietly that she almost didn't hear it. "I was only lucky you had such a horrible childhood that doing the bare minimum was everything to you."
Harry looked up in surprise, waiting for him to elaborate. He tilted her chin up, his eyes running across each of her features adoringly. He looked at her like that a lot. Adoringly.
"I survived decades by pushing myself forward with nothing but hatred. I've committed unforgivable acts. I've caused pain and suffering and to no one greater than you. Yet, through all this, you found it in your heart to give me a chance." His expression turned serious. "No one ever gave me a chance like you did. No one ever opened their heart to me, knowing I won't be gentle with it, and gave me the chance to do better. No one ever trusted me so much and I could never blame them. And I knew you were only doing it because you were stuck in a marriage with me."
Harry shook her head, ready to deny it, but he smiled and spoke before she could.
"And then you told me you loved me. You opened your entire vulnerable heart to me and expected nothing back in return. What was I to do," he asked, "but treat it as carefully as I could because you were a foolish and naive girl to trust me with it? I'm nothing if not proud and driven to succeed. I was going to take care of your heart and prove to you I am worthy of it and more."
Harry blinked. She did not expect this confession and it was starting to startle her.
Tom looked down at Violet and ran his opposite hand over her tiny body, casting a warming charm. "I learned things I never thought about along the way. I began to feel things I never cared for. And it was addicting. You are addicting." He looked at her again and leaned forward to touch his forehead to hers, whispering, "You breathed a new life into me, gave me another purpose. My dreary and dark life has some light in it," his hand rested over their daughter as he shut his eyes tight. "And I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep it this way. No one has the power to tear you and Violet apart from me except yourself."
"I would never—"
His eyes shot open.
"I love you, Harry," he said with the desperation of a dying man's last words. Harry froze. "I love you, you must know that. You came into my life and made a mess of things, made me share my power, made me a beggar for your attention, made me powerless in my own manor. I've never had a better survival chance or a clearer goal. I never sought peace until I got a taste of it from you. Don't take this away from me. Please."
"Tom," Harry whispered, astonished with what she was hearing. On the one hand, her heart was soaring from his declaration, on the other it was breaking for him. His wild eyes were wide as he cupped her cheek.
"Harry, you must promise me—promise me you'll never leave me. I am going to make mistakes and I am going to deny them, but you have to give me the chance to correct them. Don't walk out on me—if you ever left me, if I ever lost the only family I've ever had, the only good thing I ever created, I won't be able to take it."
"Tom," Harry said louder, covering his hand with her own. "I'm never going to leave you, I promise. You've given me everything I could wish for and more. I love you, too." Finally being able to add the 'too' at the end of the phrase moved her more than it should have. "So much."
His eyes were vulnerable as they stared into hers. He must hate it, she knows this because she's only seen him vulnerable a handful of times and each time he denied such a reaction.
She watched in fascination at the raw emotion flicker through his eyes—the trust he was now forced to instill in her, that she would keep her promise. The risk that came with handing your heart to someone else knowing they alone have the power to completely destroy it.
"I love you, Harry," he repeated, stroking her cheek. She closed her eyes and let the words wash over her before his soft lips pressed down on hers. "I love you."
And that's it! :(((
Corny ending, I'm sorry but I really needed to wrap this up because it was getting away from me. Tom finally understands and accepts that he's absolutely whipped for Harry and would likely implode if she was no longer with him.
In case I didn't make it clear, he is happy with his daughter. He loves her the way Tom Riddle loves.
Tom keeps all his horcruxes close. He gives Harry the Gaunt ring so when Violet goes to Hogwarts she can have the locket. In a few years, they have a baby boy too, who Tom gets to name. He is even more like his father and Tom has a lot of fun shaping him into a mini-Voldemort. (He loves both his children a lot but deep down, he may favour his son just a slight bit more!)
Tom regrets the all the suffering he caused Harry from the moment she was a baby, but he does not regret the murder of her parents because without doing so, he wouldn't have the Harry he does now. (And thus the Horcrux inside Harry doesn't accidentally get healed).
Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews! I was happy to share this fic here, but I don't think I'm going to be posting on FFN anymore :( I do share my fics on AO3 under the username 'cauldroncakes' so if you would like to read more from me, I have a bunch more fics up there! I don't love FFN, they make it really difficult to communicate with readers and reviewers, and the process to posting a chapter is annoying ksdljfsd I hope its not an inconvenience to suggest you read my other fics on AO3—but it's lovely there and I find you can do much more!
