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Word Count: 635


No Doubt


"How did you sleep?" Tom asked, when Harry stepped into the office, fully dressed in his battle gear and clearly ready for the day.

"I didn't," Harry replied, accepting the coffee a House-Elf offered him with a small smile and a nod. "Sleep isn't what I need right now."

Tom nodded, because he knew that was how Harry worked, and this was… this was a big deal. For all of them.

They drank their coffee in silence, Tom looking over a report Rabastan had filed late in the night. Harry looked to be staring into space, but Tom knew he was thinking over the plan for the thousandth time.

A clock dinged on Tom's desk, and Harry started slightly. Tom watched as green eyes shone darker.

"It's time."

Voldemort's takeover had been smooth—smoother than anyone could have possibly expected—because of an unexpected addition to his ranks.

A partner, instead of a minion, someone who was as ruthless as he was, someone as strong as he was, and someone who could command and lead just as well as he could.

The light side, the Ministry, wizarding towns all over the country had fallen to their wands and their control, and this final hurdle was the one they had been waiting for.

Hogsmeade and Hogwarts were in reach for them.

One final fight.

They'd waited for the summer months, to do as little damage to the younger generation as possible, and they knew that the staff were all in situ at the school, along with most of Dumbledore's Order.

Invicta stood beside Voldemort and he smiled behind the mask that hid his face.

For both of them, this was home.

Mid battle, Tom paused for just a moment to admire Harry as he fought. Nobody could touch him, try as they might, and while the light side had made a surprisingly impressive effort, they fell one by one to the wands of the Dark.

"Tom!"

Red eyes narrowed on Dumbledore, who had no right to call him by that name. He'd only bestowed the right to that name on one person, and one person alone.

Tom let his wand lose, spells shooting out in quick succession as he let out a torrent of abuse on Dumbledore.

The old man could barely manage to defend against it, his age and lack of mobility working against him.

Tom could feel movement beside him, and he knew it was Harry.

He slowed his casting to smile at the old man. "Don't you want to meet my partner before you meet your death, Albus?"

Dumbledore glanced at Invictus, his face full of concern. Tom could practically feel Harry vibrating beside him, and then, in one swift movement, the mask was removed.

The shock on Dumbledore's face was worth everything the war had cost them, and Tom revelled in it, even as Harry raised his wand.

"Do you mind?" He asked Tom, almost conversationally, if one couldn't hear the hunger in his tone.

"By all means, my dearest."

Harry nodded and then looked back at Albus. "What did you think would happen when you put me in an abusive home? Did you think I'd be well rounded and full of awe for you because you got me out of there? Were you expecting me to do whatever you wanted, because you saved me?"

"This isn't you, Harry," Albus said softly, imploringly.

Tom was waiting, almost positive it wouldn't work, but he'd be lying if he said that he was completely confident, for Harry's reply.

And what a reply it was.

A spell as green as Harry's eyes glowed through the night and hit Dumbledore square in the chest.

There was a moment, and then Harry turned to look at Tom. "You don't have to doubt me. We're in this together."


Written for:

Auction: Day 24, Auction 2: Dark!AU

365: 128. (dialogue) "How did you sleep?"/"I didn't."