Thanks for the ideas guys!

I do not own AHS or HP

Chapter 5

"I think I have mommy issues. You know a good therapist?"-Tate Langdon

"He's been raping him!"

"Honey, you've got that all wrong." Chad leaned against the wall. "Patrick and I were there that night too. Trust me, everything was beyond consensual."

"Harry had his hands tied! He couldn't get away." Violet argued.

"And he wouldn't have wanted to if he could if those moans of his were anything to go by." Patrick smirked at her. "That was sex. Kinky sex. Although, you wouldn't know much about sex, would you?"

Violet flushed deeply. She had sex before with Tate, but he hadn't acted like that with her!

"B-but." She stuttered absolutely humiliated.

"Let it go, girly. They are happy. Leave them alone." Chad warned.

Violet flushed with ire and disappeared from their sight.

"For the first time in years it won't be Tate to cause trouble in this house." Chad frowned.

Harry ran his fingers through Tate's hair and kissed his cheek. Tate leaned into the kiss and smiled.

It didn't reach his eyes.

It had only been two days since Violet butted her head into their lives and Tate hadn't quite bounced back yet.

Harry wouldn't let this continue.

He leaned in and kissed Tate softly.

"I've been naughty." He smiled darkly.

Tate looked into his eyes intently, interested.

Constance sighed into her cup of tea.

"Is something wrong with your tea love?" Harry asked concerned. They were having midday tea this time instead of dinner. Michael was coloring, but Constance seemed a bit despondent.

"I," Constance paused for a bit collecting herself, "I've been feeling a bit under the weather lately. I went to a doctor."

"Nothing is wrong right?" Harry asked, as if he didn't already know.

Constance seemed to shrink into herself.

"I have cancer."

"No!" Harry gasped.

"It is progressing quickly," Constance said grimly, "they've given me three more months."

Constance turned and looked at Michael. It seemed like she wouldn't be given another chance after all.

Harry leaned over the table and put his hand over hers.

"If there is anything you need, please let me know." He said sincerely. Constance nodded.

Harry excused himself to use the bathroom.

Constance frowned into her tea. She looked up and was startled to see Tate in Harry's seat.

"Tate." She couldn't find any words. Here was her greatest failure, her most precious and yet most hated, child.

Tate ignored her and looked at Michael who was still coloring.

"That's a nice picture you got there. Is the girl's neck supposed to be bloody?" Tate asked.

Michael nodded.

"You know, if you use a darker red you can draw a line on her throat and pretend that somebody slit It." he added helpfully. Michael beamed and reached for the crayon.

Cute kid.

"Tate." Constance said again, but try as she might she didn't know what else to say.

Tate looked at her. Really looked at her.

He felt nothing for this woman, but hatred and distaste. His whole life she had failed him. He looked at Michael again. He wouldn't let his son end up like him. Tate stood up and left the room.

He met Harry on the stairs. Tate leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"End her."

A day later, Constance fell terribly ill. The doctors couldn't do much for her; it was too late for the chemotherapy. She couldn't take care of herself and Michael. She didn't have the strength or the money. Harry, being the generous person he was, invited her into his house.

Constance accepted gratefully and began to plan.

Constance sat in her new room and put on her face for the day. She looked into the mirror and smiled at the figure behind her.

"Moira."

Constance turned around and smirked at the maid. Moira watched her grimly.

"Looks like you will be seeing a lot of me for the next…eternity."

Moira hated Constance with everything in her being. She had been the one to kill her. Moira had slept with Constance's husband once in a moment of loneliness. The second time she had resisted his advances and had been nearly raped, but Constance didn't care. She killed Moira and her own husband trapping them in the house for eternity.

Constance's husband wasn't one of the aware, but Moira was. For the last few decades, Constance had endlessly tormented her and it seemed like even death would not put a stop to her cruelty.

Michael played with Tate in his new bedroom. Harry leaned down and kissed the little boy on his forehead and Tate on the lips before leaving. Harry met Tate's eyes before smiling softly.

"Have fun, you two."

Harry entered Constance's room. She hadn't been doing well the last few days.

How awful.

"Constance, I have the papers."

Constance had asked Harry to take custody of Michael. She didn't know anyone else she could ask to take care of him and she didn't want such a gifted boy to go into the system. At least that's what she told him. Harry didn't particularly believe her, but he couldn't make himself care.

It amused Harry profoundly that she was giving away what he had wanted all along. He would be stupid to think that she did not have an agenda.

However, if she was trying to manipulate him she could think again.

Harry was always a step ahead of her.

Constance sat up in the bed and grabbed the papers. She signed her name and initialed in the appropriate places.

She coughed into a handkerchief.

"Would you like a drink of water?" Harry asked.

"Please."

Harry retrieved her water and sat down on the edge of her bed as she drank it.

"I'm so glad you trusted me with Michael's care."

Constance put down her water.

"He will have everything he could ever want and need."

She tried to cough away a tingle in her throat. She leaned back and got comfortable on the bed.

"I will take good care of him."

Constance's throat began burning. She coughed more and gripped her throat. She looked at Harry, but he was smiling at her as if nothing was wrong. She looked into his eyes and they were cold. Oh so cold.

"I'm going to take care of him. I'm going to treat him like you should have treated Tate, Adelaide, and Beauregard." He smiled at her sweetly. A saccharine smile.

She tried to reach for him or to sit up, but she couldn't move. Her eyes widened in dismay.

"Tate died because of you, you know. You were such a terrible, terrible mother. You pushed him over the edge. You let him die." Harry's smile vanished.

"Does your chest burn yet?"

Constance would have clutched at her chest if she could move. Harry grabbed his cell phone.

"Hello? Please, I need help. My friend she's sick with cancer, but something is wrong. I think she is having a heart attack!"

Constance's eyes widened in horror. He wasn't sending her to a hospital was he? No!

Harry ended the call and turned back to her and smiled.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Did you really think I was going to let you die in this house?"

Constance felt real terror for the first time in her life.

Constance died on the way to the hospital. Autopsy showed it was a heart attack, but the cancer wasn't far behind in killing her. Such a tragic thing. It was a good thing she gave her sweet neighbor custody of Michael before she passed away.

Harry leaned over Michael's bed and kissed him on the forehead.

"No more grandma?" Michael asked.

"No more grandma." Harry confirmed.

"Good."

A child after his own heart.

Harry returned to his and Tate's room.

"How did he take it?" Tate asked.

"Fairly well I think. He's young." Harry crawled into bed besides Tate. Harry cupped Tate's face and kissed him softly.

Tate smiled and this time it reached his eyes.

Harry always managed to cheer him up.

AN: I wanted to add more about the Harmons, but I felt like this was long enough. I'm trying to keep the chapters shortish for this fic. Next time Ben and Tate talk and Vivien and Ben pick sides.