Embracing His True Self
Voldemort sighed in relief, finally, finally he was done. It had taken a lot longer than anticipated. No doubt Harry was less than pleased. At not only being interrupted but by the length of time it had taken for him to get everything sorted. No doubt he was already asleep, it was two o'clock in the morning but he couldn't bring himself to leave anything unfinished. Not important works he had been trying to see through for two years now. Screwing the lid of the ink, he put the quill in its container and massaged his wrist which was stiff from writing for so long.
He was bone achingly tired, he was used to little sleep, even from a young age. One didn't get much in the way of sleep with bombs dropping on London. Sleeping in a train station with a mat and a threadbare cover. It had been freezing cold, and between the constant crying, music playing and people singing, yes it had been a nightmare. Then at Hogwarts he'd been determined to read everything he could get his hands on. Luckily the dorms had curtains around your bed, giving you not only privacy but they were that black out you could use your Lumos without bothering anyone.
Not that he'd particularly cared about bothering anyone, but it had been difficult in the beginning when he went to Hogwarts. Mostly due to his Muggle name and his sorting into Slytherin. He had proved himself, proved that he was much stronger and more powerful than them. Then they'd bowed him in fear and reverence when his abilities became known. Being related to Salazar Slytherin – despite being a half blood – was enough to garner him respect and awe.
He'd never forgiven or forgotten any derisive comments or looks he'd received all those years. In the end they had paid twofold for their actions and reactions. It had filled him with immense satisfaction, even to this day, his revenge could rev him up like nothing else. He'd like to lie and say he had full control from the get go, but it wasn't so.
"Are you just going to sit there in the dark all evening or come to bed?" Harry questioned, sneaking up on Voldemort. Or as much as he could sneak up on someone to whom he was bonded. They could feel each other, he had a piece of Voldemort's soul within him. If that was not bonded, he didn't know what to call it really.
Voldemort turned to face the doorway, eyes widening at the sight of his partner with only a pair of boxer shorts to protect his modesty in a manor filled with people. The orange glow from the lamps casting an ethereal glow around Harry. The fitness regime he kept up, was working well, giving him a well-toned body. He mentally corrected himself, nothing could rev him up like nothing else, not his revenge. "I'm going to assume you have something in mind," he said, voice turning seductive, eyes flaring brightly corresponding to the stirring of arousal at the sight of Harry in nothing but one article of clothing. The tenting in them suggested that yes, Harry most definitely had something in mind.
"Maybe," Harry said slyly, eyes gleaming in the light, "Care to find out?"
Voldemort licked his lips, like he'd ever say no to that sort of invitation. "It' a good job I'm done for the evening," he said standing swiftly, quick to join harry.
Harry laughed, "Yes, especially considering it's bloody cold," he added ruefully, burrowing himself in Voldemort's side.
The sight to outsiders wouldn't be an odd one, merely a seventeen-year-old male with his partner who might be a few years older than him, twenty-one-years-old perhaps? But not too old to cause concern. Or that's exactly what they would see…what people saw was very deceptive and only open to interpretation from that person's point of view. They would never guess that Harry was younger and that Voldemort himself? Were decades older, but neither cared about perception.
For the pureblood's? Such matches were common and thus they didn't even blink over the age gap. Wizards lived a much greater lifespan. It wouldn't be odd when say Harry was ninety. Age was just a number.
"Yes, it is rather," Voldemort agreed, his fire had gone out some time ago, he hadn't bothered to demand it relit. Too immersed in his work, with a flick of his wand, the lights in the room were entirely extinguished. Tightening his hold on Harry, keeping him close, his eyes roaming around silent hallways as if expecting someone to pop out and see Harry in near enough his birthday suit. Something that he would abhor, only he was allowed to see Harry this way.
Conveniently forgetting that nobody except the inner circle – and even then, only on an invitation basis – were allowed or able to get onto his private wing.
Inside his room, the fire was going strong, evidently Harry had been just as busy judging by the pile by his side of the bed that hadn't been there this morning. He wondered what Harry had been up to now…The goosebumps on Harry began to fade as he was enveloped in the warmth.
Voldemort's hand still on Harry's back, turned Harry fully to face him. His hands roaming freely, as he kissed Harry with passion and intent. Even after everything he'd shown Harry about exploring his own body…he was still so easily aroused and it didn't take long for needy breathless whimpers to break his usually strong demeanour.
Harry was quick to begin undressing Voldemort, unclipping his cloak it was first to fall. With the absorption of nearly all the Horcruxes Voldemort looked barely twenty-one-years-old. He was still significantly taller than Harry, which made him pout a bit. Fucking Dursley's but he wasn't going to think on them. His thoughts thankfully tailed off with hands massaging him, causing him to groan softly, sliding off his shirt, which joined the growing pile of clothes.
Walking forward, until Harry's legs hit the back of the bed, Voldemort kicked off his shoes, as nimble fingers undid his trousers pressing against his swelling erection. Hooking his fingers under the waistband of Harry's underwear, he slid them down passed his muscular calves and to his feet touching as he went instead of allowing gravity to do its own thing. Hearing and feeling the effect he was having on his partner, smugness enveloped him. As if he couldn't feel everything through the bond which just amplified the experience entirely.
"Yeah, yeah no need to be so smug," Harry said breathlessly, arching into him, he was always so easily aroused and very impatient.
"Shall we just go to bed then? Since I'm too smug?" Voldemort drawled, drawing back, watching the grabby motions as Harry reeled him back in.
"Don't you dare," Harry protested, he was definitely not wanting to go take a cold shower or deal with it himself. He was greedy, he loved the feeling Voldemort was able to bring out in him during sex. There was nothing better, it was…incomparable really. He wouldn't ever want anyone else to see him so…vulnerable, and that is what he was here in the safety and comfort of this room.
"That's what I thought," Voldemort replied wryly, nudging Harry onto the bed, before he covered him with his body.
All talk was abruptly cut off as they explored one another, Voldemort as always doing the guiding. Licking, biting and nibbling his way up Harry's body. Enjoying the sounds, he could elicit from him, and the swelling excitement through the bond. The bond made him feel like a teenager again – for real – as his control wasn't quite what he was used to with partners. When his own emotions were toped upon Harry's.
Voldemort inhaled sharply as Harry shamelessly rubbed himself against him, which led to him biting down on his neck a little too hard causing Harry to curse and press his leg tightly into his very sensitive engorged penis in retaliation. Hissing at the pain, which was easily layered with pleasure, he growled, contemplating the idea of getting him back but nixed it…some other time. If they were going to be doing tonight what he suspected…then damn right he wasn't going to risk it. they were both impulsive, but not that impulsive.
Just the thought of it made him throb and very near lose control of himself.
Harry chuckled breathlessly, sensing Voldemort's near loss of control. Well aware of the feeling of nearly going over the cusp and orgasming. He, unlike Voldemort though…couldn't stop himself – or really want to – he was incapable yet. "Where's your lube?" knowing without a doubt it was there somewhere.
Voldemort despite knowing that it may have been heading this way, paused and stared at Harry seriously, "Are you sure?" he'd been holding off long enough, not that he'd truly minded. He'd gone over a decade without sex, without a body for Merlin's sake. Harry was well worth the wait; what Harry had done earlier…none of his previous partners would have dared to do. He loved that fearlessness, for the most part.
Harry's face was painted a lovely flush red, "Would you rather wait?" he panted out, a teasing grin on his face. He loved seeing Voldemort this way, his guard lowered, and sensing excitement…normally he was always grim, determined and stalwart but with him? His emotions were Harry's favourite thing to elicit from him.
"Turn over," Voldemort said, nudging him, "Accio," the jar flew out of his beside desk, eagerness almost making him clumsy. "It will be much easier your first time this way," his fingers stroking down Harry's back, after he turned over without a single word.
Harry wiggling his backside tauntingly at partner. A smirk appeared on his face when he heard a sharp inhale of breath from behind his smirk only seen by the pillow. It lasted until another moan was ripped from him when a finger, already oiled up, circled his hole. The bond exuding impatience, excitement and an arousal so fierce that it was a surprised nothing came of it.
Voldemort ran his finger over the pucker, smirking when it spasmed as if already eager to have him inside. Harry wiggled around impatiently, it was a strange feeling, he was more aroused by the feelings coming through the bond.
Impatient himself, Voldemort pushed his finger into the opening and all the way in, down past his knuckle. He could have used a spell to stretch Harry, but there was just something more intimate in doing it this way. The feeling of the heat blazed in on his fingers, and the way Harry clenched down around him, and arched back, at the strange feelings he was experience.
Removing the middle finger until only the tip remained; Voldemort eased two fingers into Harry's tight heat. Twisting his fingers, with expertise he found what he was looking for and hooked his fingers around the tiny nub. Harry arched up, causing his fingers to sink impossibly deeper into the blazing heat.
Harry cursed and panted as Voldemort continued to play with that spot that made sparks dance across his vision. It was driving Harry to distraction and he was so very close to orgasming.
"If you don't stop, I'm going to finish," Harry said through gritted teeth, entire body flush.
"That's exactly the point," Voldemort whispered into his ear, before biting down and tugging at the flesh as he hooked his fingers again. It would make him looser and more relaxed, your first time didn't hurt if your partner knew what they were doing. Normally he didn't care much for his partners pleasure but he most assuredly did for this one.
Voldemort lined up and inserted three fingers once Harry was loose enough for him to continue, then four. Only once he was satisfied Harry was sufficiently loosened did he remove his fingers. By this time Harry had stopped writhing against him, just heaving with exertion and lust. His entire body was thrumming with tension; he could sense Harry was at the end of his tether, exhausted from his earlier orgasm and rapidly tiring, and shaking despite his sturdy frame being in optimal position for this. He was as well; he was very close to coming and wouldn't last long tonight. After years of abstinence, he wouldn't have his vaunted control.
Lining his impressive erection up at Harry's slackened opening, he waited a second before he began to slowly penetrate Harry. He cursed silently as Harry continued to clench down around him; he was losing control, and if Harry didn't stop soon, he would finish before he intended to. He tightened his hold on Harry's hips, warning him to stop without saying anything. The amusement sang through the bond.
Harry squirmed around, at the strange feeling, a fullness he hadn't experienced before. Then Voldemort did, a quick almost brutal thrust that made Harry forget to breathe as pleasure mingled with pain shot in every direction. His eyes closed, his body arching as Voldemort continued his fast pace, unable to think or do anything as his body experienced too much desire for him to handle. Desire he'd never experienced but read about in the book Severus had – embarrassingly – given him all that time ago.
Voldemort continued to thrust himself into Harry, who was mumbling incoherently now. He had never seen Harry so…debauched before. So wanton, so full of lust and need and it was because of him. He could feel his impending climax, and made no attempt to stop it.
Harry's sounds were muffled by the pillow as his body shook with the pleasure and swamped with exhaustion. Only for him to stiffen as another orgasm ripped through him.
Emptying himself inside of Harry for the first time, claiming him, branding him as his. For he would never allow another within touching distance of what was his. Feeling Harry's orgasm releasing as if it was his own had been too much.
He wasn't surprised that Harry slumped over in exhaustion, Voldemort followed. Reaching over – he always kept his wand in reach – he claimed his wand, and waved it in their direction. The mess from their activities disappeared, including sweat.
"I'll need to thank Ewan for his timely interruption," Voldemort chuckled, wondering if this would have come about if they hadn't been interrupted.
"He's still alive?" Harry complained, turning around, staring at Voldemort in mock aghast.
"Unfortunately, he's too indispensable." Voldemort said wryly, grunting, biting his lip as he was once again used as a pillow.
"I had no idea you considered anyone indispensable," Harry confessed dryly, making himself very comfortable, spread across Voldemort's chest. They didn't normally sleep in the nude, but he was much too relaxed and putty to really be bothered to move.
"There are many in both circles that are indispensable," Voldemort confessed, "Do not ever tell anyone I've said as such."
"Wait you'd consider someone from the outer circle indispensable?" Harry asked, moving until he was sitting on his elbow. Looking down at Voldemort with a look on his face he'd never worn before. "How does that work?" how did he not know this? Then again wasn't it just earlier that day he'd actually been saying he didn't know everything about Voldemort yet either? When Pansy went on about knowing everyone.
"All my…our followers are at least moderately to very successfully power. However, some have affinities for certain magicks and others have rare gifts that run in the family that are more than useful any given day." Voldemort explained quietly, more amused than anything at the look of befuddlement on Harry's face.
"Huh, so why are they in the outer circle?" Harry blinked tiredly at Voldemort, refusing to tire completely under his conversation was finished.
"Because as useful as they are…they have not yet proven themselves to me adequately." Voldemort said haughtily.
"Where would I be?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side, his hand beginning to ache.
"If not at my side, most assuredly, the inner circle," Voldemort said honestly.
"How long ago?" Harry pondered on possible answers.
"You proved yourself beyond a shadow of a doubt long ago," Voldemort answered, "But if I had to pick a point, it would be in place of Bellatrix."
"Huh, I was half expecting when I used the killing curse," Harry gave a huff of laughter.
"Yes, that was a genuine surprise," Voldemort admitted, as Harry lay back down, unable to keep his current position. "I did not think you'd ever use it."
"Or get it the first time?" Harry grinned, laughing a little at the feeling through the bond.
"Well, I would normally say I'm no longer surprised by anything you do, and hadn't been up until that moment." Voldemort replied, soothing over Harry's chest absently. "I think perhaps you enjoy antagonizing me more than you value your own life." Believing that Harry had merely refused to learn to spite him.
"Everyone else constantly tries to please you," Harry grinned, it was hidden under his pressing his face to Voldemort's chest. "Someone had to stand up against your tyranny."
Voldemort huffed out, secretly amused.
"No, I…I was tired of playing to someone's tune, whether it be yours or Dumbledore's…I just…I guess it was my own way of rebelling." Harry shrugged, that and he just stopped caring…didn't care whether he lived or died. It was different now, of course, and wouldn't change a single thing that had led to this moment. "Oh, Pansy declared that you'd be 'horrified' to hear Barty was going to be married a 'Mudblood' like Granger. She acts like she knows everyone personally and it's annoying."
"Who's that?" Voldemort asked, brow furrowed.
Harry laughed, "Oh, she'd never believe that," cackling, "Parkinson, she's the only heir, isn't she?"
"Yes, she may have to marry a 'spare' in order for them to take on her name to keep the family line secured." Voldemort agreed, contrary to popular belief, he didn't know everything about the families of his followers only the important details. Considering how old the Parkinson line was, to have only a girl had probably been saddening. "Unless, they've let her choose on her own." He couldn't care less to be honest. He couldn't even recall what she looked like, too many of his followers have children for him to remember them all. Luckily though, most of the time the family resemblance is quite…uncanny allowing him to keep up. Three generations he'd observed and they were nearly carbon copies of their fathers before them.
Even some of the girls were unfortunate enough to resemble their patriarchal parent.
Harry sighed, "Let's not talk about her anymore," he murmured, yawning tiredly. Unfortunately, he was used to talking to Voldemort basically only late at night. They weren't always joined at the hip, even if they could always feel one another. Which was always cut off, mostly due to him falling asleep mid conversation.
"You did bring her up," Voldemort chuckled, everywhere he touched Harry ached into him like a cat. Touch starved as he was, although the same could be said for him. He'd been without a damn body for over a decade, being able to feel again…was indescribable.
"I regret it!" Harry said vehemently, "Just…she pisses me off that's all, she'd probably piss herself if you looked at her let alone spoke to her." Grinning savagely at the thought, although he wouldn't want to scare away his current card partners, he really liked playing against them.
"Will Granger want children?" he'd forgotten he'd met her once, during the trial, not surprisingly that he'd forgotten really. She was neither interesting or overly powerful and absolutely no use to him except perhaps offspring she might give the magical world. She was intelligent that was something she had going for her.
"I assume so," Harry murmured, enjoying the gentle touches, "She didn't refute any statement I made when kids were brought up."
"And why did you mention children?" Voldemort ached a brow, his hand stilling splayed across Harry's chest.
"I told her never to put her career over Barty and any children they had…I don't want to see him hurt." Harry confessed, "Hermione's very…goal orientated, she wants a career, go figure he'd marry someone very similar to his own father."
"She has Minister aspirations?" Voldemort asked wryly, she didn't have a chance, he would not allow someone light, so manipulated by Dumbledore that his suggestions were still ingrained in the girl become Minister. She was smart, would get high up, but no, he wouldn't allow her to become Minister for Magic.
"She has a lot she wishes to change; I think her first stop will be the Creature department. She was horrified by how House-elves were treated and tried to 'free' them all at Hogwarts of all places." Harry said, staring up when he heard Voldemort laugh, awed.
"She wanted to free them from Hogwarts? A place that's well known as a sanctuary for House-elves, mentioned multiple times in Hogwarts a history?" Voldemort had never been more amused by irony and willful ignorance in his life.
"The common room was a right mess, they refused to go near the tower," Harry said, sounding a little amused himself. "She meant well…she just ignores the good parts and focuses on the bad." Pressing his own hand against Voldemort's beyond tired and fighting sleep to just talk.
Voldemort snorted, finding it entirely too hilarious. Wondering if Barty even realized what he was getting himself in for. He burrowed his face in Harry's neck, they needed sleep, they were both getting up early tomorrow. "What's on your agenda tomorrow?" wondering if Harry would sit in on his meeting…with Harry there they would most definitely give him an answer. Was it really that difficult for them to believe Harry was on his side and willingly? He'd be insulted if it wasn't his usual MO during the last war to use the Imperius Curse. He wished for the alliance to be fulfilled before he set up a celebratory party.
"I'm going to the Dolohov's tomorrow morning and I have a meeting with Lord McKinnon to see about buying the rest of the Leaky Cauldron at eleven. Which shouldn't take too long, I should be back by lunch time if not before." Harry murmured, tiredness beginning to get too much.
"Then I'd like you to meet everyone, I have another meeting set to try and get the alliance completed." Voldemort stated, it was a demand of sorts, although he knew better than to voice it as such.
"What time?" Harry asked, glassy tired eyes, peering at Voldemort.
"Twelve-forty-five," Voldemort informed him.
"Alright, I'll be there." Harry agreed, it was important to him, he could feel that much through the bond.
With that, both slept peacefully and deeply until their respective alarms went off the next morning.
"Good morning, Lord Potter," Anthea said, as Harry was once again popped this time onto the veranda. Anthea and Antonin were the only ones there, the rest of the family were either asleep or eating breakfast in the dinning hall.
"Harry, please," Harry said seriously, giving her and Antonin a nod. "I apologies if I've interrupted breakfast." It was little wonder Antonin wanted alone time with his sister, they'd been separated for such a long time.
"Take a seat, help yourself to breakfast," Antonin said, welcoming him, before sitting back down.
"Coffee or tea?" Anthea asked, pouring the brews into the dainty little cups that had been in the family for generations.
"I wouldn't mind a coffee, thank you," Harry said taking his seat, and plated up some breakfast, it smelt delicious. He'd planned on just heading to the Leaky Cauldron after the meeting regardless of how it went for a quick bite to eat. Breakfast wasn't anywhere close to being served yet at Slytherin manor. They'd began cooking though, and had asked if he wanted anything to eat before he left but he didn't want to put them out. Plus, the meeting was due, so he couldn't eat even quickly.
"How can we help you today?" Antonin was much more relaxed than he had been at the last meeting they'd had. Surer of himself, less worried that Harry would just demand something of him. If he did, he would have to comply, for Harry was the Dark Lord's consort, although that wasn't exactly official yet. They'd celebrated Harry coming to the Dark side but nothing else. He honestly wasn't going to be surprised when another celebratory party was announced with Harry officially becoming consort, everyone in the inner circle knew…and most of the outer circle will have heard the rumors by now.
"I just wish to ask Anthea a few questions actually," Harry said, sipping on the coffee, washing down the scrambled egg and toast he had bitten into. "I assume you've read the newspaper by now on what happened to Arthur Weasley?"
Anthea stiffened, "Yes," she admitted, clearing her throat, "Yes, I'm aware." It explained so much, it hurt that she hadn't even considered it to be an option.
"He's in a very bad way," Harry confessed, a frown crossing his features, "I was…I always liked Arthur. He was kind to me, patient, and seemed like a good father even if he never stood up to Molly…which I understand now."
Anthea swallowed thickly, unable to eat her breakfast, chewing instead on a piece of dried toast.
"Molly was always overbearing…none of her eldest children can stand her in long doses, not even the twins." Harry mused, "Bill all but emigrated to Egypt, Charlie to Romania, Percy distanced from the entire family…the twins moved out as soon as they could even at the risk of their own business."
Antonin grunted, "What about it?" although, he had to admit, they all had good jobs, well paying, decently dressed for once. He respected their work ethic, but growing up with nothing of their own would have driven them to a good well-paying job he supposed.
"Did Arthur always want to work in the Muggle department?" Harry mused, surprised that Molly didn't just curtail everything that came to the wizard. He had no money – unless he did have it and she'd spent it all – why him out of all the people she could have done it to? Had she desired him that much? Or had she done it because he was the only one, she'd be able to do it from? Or had this all been some elaborate scheme from Dumbledore?
"No," she said vehemently, "He had plans for after Hogwarts, plans that did not include working within the Ministry of magic."
"I take it the Weasley's weren't well off even then?" Harry queried.
"You do realize that Arthur's father Septimius was one of seven children? By the time the family fortune was divided between them, and the bulk of the estate going to the eldest son, there wasn't much of a Weasley fortune left to be had. They hadn't invested well at all, it's why Septimius only had three sons the rest did not have a child to speak off between the lot of them. Cedrella had her dowry which was evenly divided between the three upon the son's marriages." Her tone wobbling, "He had plans on what he wanted to do with his share…" a wistful tone to her voice.
"He has been very vocal in his desire to see you," Harry explained to her between bites to eat. "None of his children understand who he's talking about and assume he's asking for someone he's hallucinating. He won't eat, barely sleeps, he's in a very bad place mentally, and the Weasley children are contemplating committing him for his own good if he doesn't begin to get better. They're reluctant because they know the price that it would cost, but they'd rally together and do what they can. They are, for the most part, very good people. The eldest have had a chance to spread their wings, learn new things that their mother wouldn't approve…but the youngest are…still very much attached to their mothers apron strings, whether she's dead or not."
"He's not responding to them?" Anthea asked, worry began to squirm in her belly. Despite her best efforts to forget Arthur and the time they'd spent together…she couldn't. It had gotten her through the worst of the days with her husband.
"No, they don't know where he is mentally…can the potion's removal have left him feeling seventeen again?" Harry pondered, "I mean that long being used, forced into a specific mindset, then it being shattered beyond repair and told he was being murdered? He might never be fixed."
"He certainly will never trust again," Antonin said thoughtfully, "I certainly wouldn't…" shuddering at the prospect. "Thank Merlin for the Lordship rings." Which protected you from such things.
"Might be why she targeted the Weasley's," Harry sighed, rubbing his head absently, "I don't know, I didn't think I'd regret the attack on the Order so much." He would have very much liked to give the Weasley's closure, to figure out what the hell the woman had been thinking.
"You suspect that there was more than a love sick woman at play," Anthea suggested, straightening significantly.
"I wouldn't be surprised…I mean no offence…but why pick someone who was penniless basically?" Harry shrugged, "I do believe I had been fated to the same thing, Ginny Weasley is very much like her mother that I honestly wouldn't be surprised."
"The Prewitt's and Weasley's were renowned to be 'light' powerful and very much in Dumbledore's sway. Arthur wasn't 'picked' you might say when it came to Dumbledore's sphere. He was more interested in school work, his aspirations…me than even thinking of the old man." Anthea stated firmly, then it all changed but she hadn't stuck around. Couldn't stick around, her parents had married her off and that had sealed her fate.
"How can they be considered light? Septimius married Cedrella Black," Harry pointed out.
"And Charlus Potter married Dorea Black, but everyone still insisted the Potters' were predominantly light, they choose to see what they want to see." Antonin pointed out, blanching a little after realizing whom he was talking to.
"Yeah, good point, everyone seems to forget witches' origins when she marries into families don't, they?" Harry mused, "It doesn't seem to matter who their ancestors were." He was related to Salazar Slytherin for Merlin's sake.
"True, the Peverell's were well known dark practitioners," Antonin informed him.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, agreeing.
"Do you want more to eat? Another coffee?" Anthea asked, there was still food available on the platters.
"I wouldn't mind another piece of toast and a coffee, please," Harry said politely, smiling at her, taking his piece of toast and allowing her to pour the coffee into the cup. She seemed a lot livelier and happier now that she wasn't at the Masse estate. "Are you going to return to the Masse estate or sell it off?"
"I'm contemplating letting the property remain part of the estate and allow my children to decide." Anthea admitted, drinking her coffee. "The Masse estate is quite significant really, although I do believe his parents might contest my having it." Despite having handed over the control and running of the estate years ago. His parents were elderly now, living in a beautiful cottage overlooking the sea. It's one of the properties they'd kept for themselves, the others were rented out giving the parents a more than suitable income to keep them more than happy, along with their own personal vaults.
"You're his widow, there's not a damn thing they can do…is there?" Harry asked frowning, wondering if he didn't understand how it worked.
"They can try," Antonin scowled mutinously, he'd kill them before he let those…those people…any money that was rightfully his sisters and his niece and nephews. Who he loved wholly even after only a few days. He had been unsure at first, having not spent a lot of time around children since his own had been young. "I won't let them get a Knut back." They'd probably known what their son was like, how he treated his wife and let it continue. They were just as much monsters as their son.
"They've been in touch," she admitted, "Trying to get me to let the kids live with them, insisting that they need both a motherly and fatherly influence." So far, they were being kind, but she knew that kindness would fade fast, thank Merlin she had her brothers, for she wouldn't be able to fight alone she didn't think. With Lord Dolohov at the helm, they really didn't stand a chance.
"Families," Harry said, shaking his head, most days he was glad not to have one. There were rare times when he would have wished for someone…a sibling, but he'd never have wished his life on anyone.
"In-laws," Dolohov corrected, just as annoyed as Harry, actually more so since this was his sister.
"Anyway, would you like to visit Arthur?" Harry questioned, getting back to the matter at hand, his second coffee of the day almost finished. "I've made an appointment and it's been approved." Despite 'family only' after they'd figured out who was trying to kill him and allowed his children to begin visiting him.
Anthea immediately began fussing with her clothes, looking very conflicted. A torn look on her face.
Antonin squeezed her hand, "Don't overthink it, if you want to go, then go."
"But I'm old," she protested, older, made to feel ugly and useless for years, she didn't want him to be disappointed. He would be, her own husband had begun sleeping with a girl just a few years older than his eldest child. He'd planned to kill her with the young woman and marry her no doubt, was she so unlovable? So ugly? So, horrifying to live with that he'd want to do that to her?
Divorce isn't an option.
Dolohov opened his mouth to try and say something kind, but Harry bet him to it – thankfully – because he knew he'd screw it up. He wasn't good at that sort of thing.
"You've aged very gracefully," Harry said softly, sincerely. "You've clearly been taking care of yourself." Comparing her to Molly Weasley it was evident that Anthea had been taking care of herself whereas Molly definitely hadn't. "I think you could look like a troll and Arthur would still want to see you. Neither of you are young anymore, don't let what happened tear more years of your lives apart."
Anthea cleared her throat, a lump catching in her throat, "What if he doesn't really want to see me?" she feared. She hadn't investigated, tried to get answers…she just thought the worst of the gentlest loving man she'd ever known.
"He's made it clear he does," Harry informed her, "He's mentioned you to everyone that's visited…including a friend of mine Hermione Granger." She obviously had a self-confidence issue, but considering all she'd been through…it was hardly any surprise.
"You wouldn't mind watching the children?" Anthea asked of her brother, not wishing to be a burden, and asking for help to watch her children already…she certainly felt like one.
"You kidding? I love them, course I will." He replied immediately, leaving his sister with zero doubt that he really wished to.
"When is the appointment? Do I have time to change?" Anthea asked, a childish gleam coming to her eyes, as she fussed with her clothes. She was lounging in clothes one didn't go out in, but was acceptable when company came calling. She definitely didn't want to see Arthur in them.
Harry suppressed an amused snort, barely, "Sure, go change, we have…" checking his watch, "Ten minutes." And it wasn't as if their appointment would be cancelled if they didn't arrive on time.
"Excuse me," she said to her brother and Harry, dabbing her lips with her napkin before standing.
"If the others saw you like this, you wouldn't be able to scare them again," Dolohov said with a wicked smirk, "Playing cupid." Although, he deeply appreciated his earlier words…Merlin only knows how long it will take to have his sister's confidence return…if it ever did. To see her light up just at the thought of visiting Weasley should have soured his mood, but he was just too glad she was feeling more hopeful. More alive, than she had been upon returning to their childhood home.
"They wouldn't believe you," Harry said with a show of teeth, probably true, but hadn't Voldemort said something similar once?
Dolohov barked out his amusement, conceding the point, except close acquaintances its true, they probably wouldn't believe him. Most of the Death Eaters since the whole Bellatrix thing were terrified of antagonizing Harry. They didn't dare. To take someone's magic away they felt you had to be cold, hard and unfeeling. And thus, they believed Harry to be that way.
Sadistic too, in his dealings with others.
There couldn't have been a more matched couple than Harry Potter and their Lord in their opinion, even if they didn't like him.
"Merlin, does she think we're going to meet the queen?" Harry asked, as Anthea made her reappearance.
Antonin's draw dropped, at the sight his sister made, "You're beautiful," he said gruffly, watching her light up in delight. It had been difficult to get those words out, but the reaction he got was worth it.
"Shall we?" Harry said, holding his arm out, she deserved to be treated well for once in her life.
"We'll see you later," Antonin nodded, giving her his approval, which probably didn't mean much in the grand scale of things but…her reaction indicated otherwise. He wasn't willing to let her go so soon…but even if he had to he'd buy up the land Weasley had and build an entire bloody manor to make sure she stays here in the country.
With that Harry escorted Anthea off the grounds and to her past love.
Hopefully more than one life could be corrected this day.
That will probably be one of the only sex scenes in the story so enjoy it ;) i had to get inspiration from one of my old works LMAO! Ah, well, it's been done I hope you enjoy it! So, will Arthur begin to recover with Anthea's help? Bringing the family closer than it had ever been since the Weasley kids were young? Will they go abroad to live their lives much to Dolohov's upset? Or will the Dolohov's build on the Weasley land and have the Weasley's have an ancestral home once more? Or will they only remain good friends too broken to try again? Hmm...I'll need to come up with who Voldemort's been meeting with to gain an alliance...i think vampires were mentioned once ugh I so miss my EHTS document lol :D well, there we go! I hope you're still enjoying it! R&R please