The first thing Tom noticed upon waking, after the pleasant ache in his body and the warmth wrapped around him, was the way the magic felt different. Everything felt like more, but the magic in the house, always so welcoming… a true extension of Harry… seemed to pulse inside his bones. It felt like his magic, as much as it felt like Harry's.

He frowned, shifting, though he froze at Harry's protest. Something was different. Not necessarily wrong, just changed.

He opened his eyes. The room seemed brighter. The colors sharper. Everything was more, in a way it hadn't been in a very long time. How strange.

Harry's teeth sunk into his skin and Tom hissed at the initial sharpness. The soft pressure, the draw as Harry sucked, came next, and Tom sunk into the feeling. His fangs retracted a moment later, replacing the feeling with warm bursts of air against the wound.

"You were thinking too loudly," Harry whispered into his neck, a muttered spell in the next second making the skin tingle.

"My apologies, darling." He shifted until Harry was flopped across his chest. "Does the magic in here feel differently today?"

Most people were oblivious to such subtle changes. He had been surprised to learn that most weren't even sensitive to magic. They could notice the lack of it, but to Tom's utter delight at how it made the Purebloods rage, the Muggleborns and Muggle-raised students seemed to be much more sensitive to the minute shifts in the ambient magic that surrounded them.

Harry hummed into his throat. "You feel like me."

His fingers wandered across Tom's chest. A trail of goose pimples followed his movements and Tom shivered, despite the warmth of the room. Harry's fingers danced down his stomach, lower, lower still, until Tom's thoughts faded away.


Nott Manor felt cold compared to Peverell Manor. The ambient magic that welcomed him so freely in Harry's home was non-existent here. The magic was lifeless, dull, and he hated it.

"You're back," Nagini hissed, her body sliding across the floor and stopping in front of the floo. Her head turned to Harry and her tongue flicked the air. "I see why you keep disappearing."

Tom snorted.

Nagini slid up Harry's leg, and it was interesting to see how Harry had gone still and paled a shade. He tilted his head, watching the way Harry's eyes tracked her as she moved higher, settling on his shoulders and tasting the air again.

"Your mate smell-tastes very much like you."

Of course, she knew. He let out a sigh. He'd rather not have this conversation with her when she was like this, especially because it should be impossible for a snake to look this smug but she managed somehow.

"His heart is racing." She curled tighter. "Your mate is afraid of snakes?"

"I'm not afraid," Harry said, thought the pallor of his face contradicted that fact.

Nagini stilled. "You speak."

Tom shuddered at the delight in her voice.

"Your mate speaks!"

She slipped down and dropped to the floor, mere moments before her body writhed, twisting and stretching uncontrollably. The transformations always looked so painful.

The color in Harry's face returned. He watched her, fascinated, where Tom had always looked away.

Nagini groaned, sitting up. "I swear, it's worse every time."

Harry hummed. "You're in the later stages."

Her head jerked towards him. "What do you know about it?"

"A fair bit, actually. Before I came here, I spent the last several years studying blood curses. And what you have is just a form of that."

Nagini pushed herself to her feet. "You could cure me?"

Harry licked his lips. "I don't know."

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "But you think it could work."

"I do."

She nodded. "Then we'll try." She glanced back at Tom. "Not now, obviously." She smiled sweetly. "We'll talk after. One way or another."

They were definitely going to be talking about Harry speaking Parseltongue then. Knowing Nagini, it would be at dinner, in front of Alexander. Joy.

She straightened her dress as she stood. "Excuse me."

She left without another word and Tom took a breath. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Nagini's company, but he never liked people questioning him or making observations in others' earshot. And Harry could understand everything.

Not that he was planning on hiding anything specifically from Harry. Harry who practiced necromancy and knew about Tom's horcruxes and now wore one on his finger. He caught Harry's hand in his and intertwined their fingers. The warmth of his soul, safely in the ring, throbbed towards him.

Did Harry feel the way it called to him? Perhaps it called to Harry too?

"So what was that about, darling?"

"What?"

Tom looked at him, unimpressed. "You were bloody terrified when you saw her."

He winced. He had gotten better about not slipping into what Alexander called 'the Muggle accent' since starting Hogwarts, but oddly enough, Harry brought it out in him.

Harry swallowed. "Ah. That."

"Yes, that." He waited, but no explanation came. "Well?"

He took a breath. "Remember how I said the cure I theorized involved necromancy?" Tom nodded. "She had been a snake when she died." He glanced towards the other room. "And beheaded. And a Horcrux. It was all very Frankenstein-esque." He smirked in Tom's direction and Tom considered that image. It was definitely something. "I even might have shouted, 'It's alive'. Scared the ever-living shit out of Draco when I did."

"Mary Shelley was a witch, you know. Half-blood."

Harry grinned at Tom. It made his stomach twist, but in a different way than it did when Harry was upset. This left him feeling warm inside. Happy.

Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of Tom's mouth. "Don't worry. It was just the initial shock. I won't be surprised next time."

Alexander stood in the doorway to the drawing room. His eyes darted down quickly to where their hands were intertwined. Tom could feel Harry begin to withdraw, but after yesterday, he refused to let him go. This wasn't some dirty secret. This was precious.

"Lord Peverell," Alexander greeted and Tom grudgingly admitted to himself that he was impressed with Alexander's composure. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

Harry inclined his head ever so slightly. "Lord Nott. Thank you for inviting me to your home. It's lovely."

Alexander's lips twitched and he motioned to the room behind him. "Shall we?"

Since coming to live, however temporarily, at Nott Manor, Tom had spent very little time in the drawing room. It was more for entertaining guests and Tom hadn't really been a guest anymore.

Until he was once more, it seemed.

His hands clenched tighter and Harry squeezed it back.

"I promise there's no ambush this time," Alexander said to Tom as they entered the room. "Unless you count Nagini. Not that I would have been able to stop her."

Alexander smiled, but it was strained. His eyes followed Harry and he remembered how Alexander had whispered the word 'necromancer' in fear. Harry had no reason to harm Alexander, but Alexander also didn't know that. Tom had been known to hurt people when he was angry or afraid. In the beginning, it was accidental, for all that he had control of his magic. Later on, it had been expected. It wouldn't be outside the realm of possibilities for Tom to find someone with similar traits fascinating.

"Would you like something to drink while we wait?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, thank you."

Alexander called for his elf, who appeared with a tray of something that smelt strongly of gin. He took a drink, but Tom didn't miss how his hands shook. It was one thing to interact with a necromancer in public, he supposed, and another to have them in your home.

"So, Lord Peverell," Alexander started. "Tom told me you were working on your proposed bill together. How is that going?"

"Well, I think." Harry shifted, as if he wasn't under Alexander's full attention, and made himself more comfortable. "The future depends on Wixen fully welcoming Muggleborns and Muggle-raised into our world, whether most people realize it or not."

Alexander tilted his head. "How so?"

"The old bloodlines are dying."

The room grew still enough a pin could have dropped.

"More and more squibs are born to the old families. Those squibs are usually abandoned in the Muggle world. They marry, have children, and eventually, someone in their bloodline has magic appear."

Alexander's eyes narrowed. "You seem rather certain of that."

"I am." Harry smiled. "My mother's mother was a squib. My mother's father was a descendant of a squib bloodline. And my mother was an incredibly gifted Dark witch. She practiced all sorts of Archaic Magics that were otherwise said to be lost to time because of the power levels they required."

Alexander leaned in closer.

"And, statistically speaking, Wixen with questionable or Muggle heritage are ones who have more power and hold rare gifts. Tom, for example, was arguably one of the most magically powerful graduates to come out of Hogwarts since Dumbledore, who's also a Half-blood."

Tom wanted to bristle at any comparison to Dumbledore, but it also stroked his ego nicely, so he would allow it. For now.

Alexander's eyes met his for a moment, before he looked back to Harry. "So that's your interest in Tom then?"

A sharp laugh interrupted whatever Harry might have said. Nagini stood in the doorway, dressed in something that looked, frankly, expensive. Since he had known her, she never had any money. Like him, she lived hand to mouth. Sure, she had received a small bit of money from the government for fighting against Grindelwald with Dumbledore, but it barely covered her daily living expenses. Which was how she had wound up staying in the cramped flat with Tom in the first place.

"They're clearly sleeping together."

Harry flushed.

"Although I'm curious to hear how exactly Tom found another Parselmouth," she purred.

Alexander's eyes grew wide.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not that interesting of a story. I was buying books."

"Oh?" She grinned sharply and Tom already regretted coming.

"Is dinner ready?" Tom asked before she could continue.

Alexander nodded stiffly.


Dinner was a bit awkward, to say the least. Tom had worried that Nagini would pick Harry over Tom, if she discovered he was a Parselmouth, but she mostly seemed amused by the fact. Alexander's questions were less amused, turning more and more pointed as dinner progressed. He sounded like Orion questioning Lucinda's now-husband, which was rather odd to be on this side of it. He could understand now why Lucinda had been so annoyed at the time.

But it also left Tom feeling weirdly warm. Even if it didn't last, they did care. Maybe that was enough for now.

"That wasn't so bad," Harry said as he pulled off his robes once they stepped through the floo. It was an odd quirk for someone who had lived in the Wizarding world for so many years. He didn't like collars buttoned up and didn't like the extra layers.

"Wasn't so bad? High praise." Tom snorted. More than once, he thought for sure Nagini was going to shift back and wrap herself around Harry's body and refuse to let go.

Tom stepped forward and loosened Harry's tie for him. He liked doing this. It felt domestic and like Harry would wind up keeping him permanently.

Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to Tom's cheek. "They're your family. It's nice they wanted to make sure you're okay."

He hummed and tangled his fingers in Harry's hair. The knotted, wild mess drove him crazy, but he did appreciate it on Harry. He tilted Harry's head back, taking in the look in his eyes.

"You really believe that."

Harry cocked his head.

"That they're my family?" he clarified.

Harry frowned. "Isn't it obvious?"

Perhaps if Harry thought it, it really was true. Well, for now, anyway.

He pressed a kiss to Harry's mouth, then pulled away, and paused.

The Peverell Manor had the family tree on a tapestry on the wall, much like other Pureblood manors had it. But unlike many of the others, they didn't hide it away. Perhaps because the house was so much older than many of the other family homes. Perhaps because they were so reclusive. Whatever the reason, it didn't change the fact that his name was now on it. Well, it had always been on it, but never so prominently.

"What are you staring at?"

Tom pointed and Harry turned to look at the tapestry. A twisted vine ran between his name, written as Thomas Marvolo Gaunt, and Harry's, written as Hadrian James Peverell.