Harry's Birthday Ball

BY : LilithKushiel
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort
Dragon prints: 20038
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Harry’s Birthday Ball

Grindelwald was defeated by his heir, Marvolo Gaunt, who then married and had two children to continue his bloodline, Merope Gaunt and Morfin Gaunt. After his wife died giving birth to Merope, he blamed the young girl for all the problems he ran into while running the Wizarding Society of England. When Morfin ran away with a pack of fire nymphs, Marvolo realized that his line needed to be continued: he needed an heir. He still treated Merope as if she were a mere house-elf, but allowed her to be married to the highest bidder. After a month of requests for Merope’s hand in marriage, the highest bidder was a man named Tom Riddle.

Merope fell madly in love with Tom; however, Tom was only marrying her to please his parents, continue his line, and become the next Lord of the Wizarding Society. Within three months, the two were married, and another two months later, Merope announced that she was pregnant with a boy. Her father was pleased with the way things had changed since her marriage and declared the baby to be his heir after he passed away.

Shortly after the baby boy, named Tom Marvolo Riddle, was born, Marvolo fell sick and died. Many speculate that his death was not an accident, but rather Tom Senior had poisoned his father-in-law.

Because the young heir was not able to succeed the throne, his father stepped in for him. The result of Tom Senior coming into power were many laws passed that limited the powers of werewolves, veelas, vampires, elves, giants, goblins, and many other species. It also ended up in the Wizarding Society fearing the Dark Arts - simply because they did not understand them.

It was only when Tom Senior killed Lily Evans-Potter and James Potter that the Wizarding Society began to treat him with trepidation and demanded that his wife take over the throne. Merope did succeed his throne, only because the Potters’ son, Harry James Potter, reflected the Killing Curse at Tom Senior - instantaneously killing the Lord. His mother’s relatives, the Dursleys, took him, and nothing was known about the young savior - the Boy-Who-Lived - of the Wizarding World.

Eleven years later, Tom Marvolo Riddle took over the throne because his mother had grown too weak to continue her reign over the Wizarding Society. He was advised by his godfather, Lucius Stefan Malfoy, and his godmother, Minerva Murielle McGonagall, during the beginning of his reign and slowly began to change the laws and regulations his father had put in place. Tom Marvolo Riddle took on the name of Lord Voldemort to differ himself - he came to loathe his father - in textbooks from his father and began to carve a new era of acceptance and tolerance into the Wizarding Society.


It had been two years since Harry had met Draco while on a trip to the market square. Harry was at the market square after burning the bacon while making breakfast for Lord Vernon Dursley, Lady Petunia Dursley, and their only son, Dudley; as he did every morning since he was able to reach the stove. In return for burning the food, he was forced to buy more in order to get any scraps left over for his own breakfast.

Draconis Adrian Imriel Malfoy, only son of Sirius Michael Black-Malfoy and Lucius Stefan Malfoy, had had an argument with his fathers over finding his mate that same morning and was wandering aimlessly around the small town of Surrey. He had bumped into Harry as the black haired sixteen-year-old accidentally ran into him with the bacon he had just purchased. After they both landed on the sidewalk in a heap, Draco offered to buy Harry more bacon, insisting upon repaying him, then they both went into market, happily chatting about whatever came to mind.

It wasn’t until Harry brushed his cheek-bone length bangs away from his forehead that Draco saw the lightning bolt shaped scar. Inwardly, he was appalled that the Wizarding society’s savior was treated like a mere slave. Frowning, he made note to ask his fathers what had happened to Harry’s parents, Lily Evans-Potter and James Potter. He did not manage to find much other than their date of death; although there was a rumor that the former Lord of the Wizarding Society could have been involved in their deaths.

Draco kept in contact with Harry for an entire year; always finding ways and excuses to visit the black haired teen, thus introducing Harry James Potter to the Wizarding Society of England. With his newly found friend’s help, Harry quickly learned to read and write, discovered the truth about his deceased parents, began to learn how to use his magic and how the ranking of society in England worked, as well as meeting some of the highest members of that ranking system which included Draco and his fathers.

It was hard to believe that a mere year ago, he had been formally adopted by Draco’s fathers. When Harry learned that Sirius and Lucius had wanted to adopted him, he had been confused, but elated at the thought of having an actual family. Because he did not quite recall Lily and James as his parents, he decided that he wanted to have a new name to show that he was going through a new part in his life. Thus under the name of Harry Ethan Sebastian Black-Malfoy, he moved into Malfoy Manor and immediately became apart of the family.

Lord and Lady Dursley didn’t put up a struggle about the young lad, seeing as they had a multitude of decent servants. Draco pointed out the reason they had probably agreed was because Lucius had threatened to take the two to the high court of the Ministry regarding their treatment of Harry.

He learned everything that he could about his new parents; he was most interested in the fact that Sirius had given birth to Draco and not a surrogate mother. Lucius had explained the situation to Harry one evening: Lucius had been engaged to Narcissa Black, Sirius’s youngest cousin, however Narcissa ended up dying while she was on-duty at St. Mungo’s Hospital. The Black family was dismayed and distraught by the death of the poor girl, but Lucius was to still marry another Black heir.

Lucius and Sirius had been lovers when they had attended Hogwarts Academy earlier and since Sirius wasn’t engaged or married at the time, the Black family transferred Lucius’s engagement to the second youngest male. Both were pleased with the arrangement and were married a year after Sirius’s graduation, then had Draco two years later with the help of a pregnancy potion.

Sirius and Lucius were quite taken with Harry since Draco had brought the beaten and bruised young lad to their home. Sirius doted on Harry as if he was his own son, and loved smothering the five-foot-six teen with hugs and kisses as frequently as possible, while Lucius enjoyed ruffling his messy hair and telling him stories of his escapes with Sirius while they were at school together.

His new fathers were mortified when Harry admitted to not knowing his birth date and never having a birthday party. Thus, Draco had decided Harry’s new birth date would be Halloween - October 31st - a little under ten months between the two boys to make it less suspicious to outsiders; it was also the formal date they had adopted Harry in their family. They planned on throwing him a birthday party like no other.


At the moment, the black haired birthday boy was gazing at his reflection in the mirror, instead of preparing himself for the Halloween-birthday ball his parents were throwing in his honor. His white skin was marred by a plethora of bruises, cuts, whip lash marks, and other injuries he had received while living at Dursley Manor; most of which had begun to fade since he had been adopted - he was immensely grateful for them slowly disappearing.

A lone finger traced over their remains delicately, as if he would harm himself.

My skin is like a map
Of where my heart has been
And I can’t hide the marks
It’s not a negative thing
So I let down my guard
Drop my defenses down by my clothes
I’m learning to fall
With no safety net to cushion the blow

Looking over his shoulder, Harry glanced at the female hooker outfit his brother had chosen and laid out on the green covered four-poster bed for him. ‘Out of all the things to be, he chose a hooker! Plus, it’s all female clothes! Why me? What did I do to deserve this?’

He was disturbed from his thoughts as the door to his bedroom swung open and said brother entered Harry’s emerald colored bedroom with a bounce in his step and carrying a closed silver case in his hands. The blonde’s silver-Prussian blue orbs sparkled with amusement - like Sirius’s usually did - as Harry’s face turned a bright shade of Sakura pink and the black haired teen let out a high-pitched ‘eep!’ at the prospect of his brother seeing him only clothed with a towel.

“C’mon, Harry, you need to get dressed so I can put makeup on your handsome face,” Draco announced while he hugged the still-wet Harry, “and Happy Birthday!”

Harry returned the hug, but it was ruined when his face paled and he blurted out: “Makeup? What for?”

The blonde lowered his voice, “Well, it goes with your costume… though Lady Parkinson volunteered to do it for you, but I thought you would appreciate if I did it.”

The birthday boy let out a cough fitting at the prospect of letting Lady Priscilla Parkinson putting makeup on his face. It was bad enough she wore three coats on her own pug face; he hated to think what she would do to his face with all the makeup accessories she owned. Harry almost felt bad for her daughter, Pansy. He squeaked out a ‘thanks’ to Draco before he rushed back into the bathroom with the hooker outfit, then slammed the door shut.

He slid against the door, letting out a sigh of relief or deject, one couldn’t tell. After quickly patting himself dry, Harry glanced wearily at the outfit one last time before starting to get dressed. Gingerly pulling up a pair of black female boy-short underwear, he groaned at the notion of having to wear them all night. ‘At least it’s not the thong Draco wanted me to wear…’

Shivering at his last train of thought, he quickly pulled on the thigh-high lime green fishnets followed shortly by a black layered mini-skirt. Without sparing a glance elsewhere, Harry slipped on the dark green corset which he couldn’t lace on his own, seeing as the ribbon laced upwards in the back. Sneaking back into his bedroom, he found Draco perched on the stool in front of his dresser with attached mirror. The blonde smiled a mile wide at the sight of the black haired birthday boy in his costume as Harry tugged up the fingerless elbow-length black lace gloves that had several green ribbons intertwined with the material.

Wordlessly, Harry turned around and let his brother tie the corset closed before turning around and sitting down on the stool Draco had been previously on. Cocking his head to one side, Harry asked, “So, what are you supposed to be, Draco? You don’t look like you’re dressed up…”

The blonde groaned: “Don’t remind me.”

“Huh?” replied the birthday boy, “what does that mean?”

Harry caught Draco’s eyes, which were a perfect mixture of Sirius’s Prussian blue and Lucius’s silver, staring back at him in the mirror, a bright blush crossing his brother’s pallid face. Huffing as he crossed his arms over the dark green corset, Harry whined in a childish voice, “Tell me!”

Draco left the bedroom, returning with a black and white outfit that Harry couldn’t quite make out. Sighing, Draco’s shoulders slumped as he went into the bathroom and changed into his costume.

When he exited the bathroom, he was wearing a black corseted dress with a bell-shaped sleeves with white lace trimming the edges. The bottom of the skirt fluttered gently against Draco’s thighs, exposing the long legs that Draco usually hid underneath pants. On top of the dress was a short white apron with black lace trimming the top. Harry didn’t miss the black and white garter on his brother’s right thigh.

The blonde tugged at the skirt, desperately wishing it was longer, while he mumbled, “I still need the headband-thing for my head…”

Beaming, Harry clapped at Draco’s entrance. He happily chirped, “At least I’m not the only male wearing a skirt!”

“Wait until you have to wear the shoes I picked out for you,” Draco announced with his arms crossed over his chest.

Harry gave a half-hearted groan, but the smile wasn’t wiped away. Turning back around, Harry asked, “You aren’t going to do anything… girly… with my hair, are you?”

The blond approached the dresser, chuckling, replied, “I’m just going to straighten it somewhat.”

Harry nodded, letting Draco touch the tip of his wand against his black locks, taming the locks of black hair as much as possible after Draco muttered a spell. Turning around on the stool, Harry faced Draco and let his brother put black kohl eyeliner on the top of his eyelids. Harry then gave Draco the same treatment before they both put on lipstick, but while Harry stuck with a deep crimson, Draco decided upon wearing a shade of a soft pink.

A wicked smirk crossed the blonde’s face as he pulled out the three-inch high-heeled combat boots that Harry was to wear. Before he could utter a remark, Harry snapped his jaw shut, realizing that the shoes could be worse - he could be wearing the stilettos that Aunt Bellatrix wore. He have a half-hearted smile before lacing the boots up and waiting for Draco to finish buckling the strap around his neck to his two-inch Mary Jane shoes.

As Harry clambered to his feet, he lost balance and nearly crashed into several pieces of furniture as he made his way out of his bedroom with Draco chuckling behind him.

I bruise easily
So be gentle when you handle me
There’s a mark you leave
Like a love heart carved on a tree
I bruise easily
Can’t scratch the surface
Without moving me underneath
I bruise easily
I bruise easily

Sneaking their way down the main corridor of Malfoy Manor, Draco loudly announced from the top of the stairs with a Sonorus Charm: “THE BIRTHDAY BOY IS HERE!”

All eyes of the gathered guests turned to the top of the staircase, where Harry, dressed in female hookers’ clothes, stood. Then raising their flutes of champagne, or choice of drink, gave him a loud toast, “TO HARRY ETHAN SEBASTIAN BLACK-MALFOY!”

A blush quickly spread across Harry’s cheeks but his chest felt like it was being constricted by a cobra. He leaned over to Draco, seeking comfort from the elder boy, while murmuring in his brother’s ear, “Dray, it hurts… in my chest… I don’t understand, why does it suddenly hurt now?”

Draco chuckled as he slung an arm around the petite black haired Harry, “That’s easy to explain, Ry; it’s because your mate is in the room. Hopefully we will find him or her tonight.”

Harry fidgeted at the thought of having a mate - it was the only subject that Lucius and Sirius hadn’t had time to explain in-depth. Walking down the stairs with Draco, he was first greeted by Sirius, who smothered Harry in his normal bear hug. Sirius was dressed in a rich crimson ball gown and claimed to be posing as Christine from Phantom of the Opera. The next to hug Harry was Lucius, who was dressed in lavish black dress robes with a white mask covering half of his face, who was posing as the Phantom.

Sirius - as Christine - whisked Harry off to be greeted by his godfathers, Remus Lupin-Snape and Severus Snape. Remus and Sirius had been best of friends while attending Hogwarts, Harry recalled; Remus was a werewolf and Severus was his dominate mate. Remus and Severus were dressed as characters from The Lord of the Rings, Remus posed as Legalos and Severus was Aragon. They had one daughter, named Hermione, who was dressed in a golden ballroom gown as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Her escort and consort was Theodore Nott, who was dressed as Belle’s counterpart, Beast, in his human form.

Bellatrix and her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, were dressed as Frankenstein and his bride. She insisted upon Harry and Draco calling her ‘Aunt Bella,’ as she did at every event she attend, even though she was Sirius’s eldest cousin. They certainly weren’t about to quarrel with her while she was dressed as Frankenstein’s bride.

Draco then came over with his mate, Blaise Zabini, who was dressed as a Spanish bull chaser. Harry didn’t miss the lipstick kisses on Blaise’s face or Blaise’s hand sliding under the dress Draco was wearing, but he chose not to comment on it. After all, he had seen much more than he like to admit between the two in the past year.

They were followed by Pansy Parkinson, who was intimating Jasmine from Aladdin by being dressed in a violet tube top and low-rise violet belly-dancer pants. Her mate, Ginvera Weasley - more commonly known as Ginny - was dressed as Ariel from the Little Mermaid.

While four out of Ginny’s six brothers weren’t able to attend the party, the twins, Fred Diggory and George Jordan née Weasley, followed quickly behind their sister. They dressed as identical Sailor Moons, causing Harry to laugh so hard that his stomach hurt. Fred’s mate, Cedric Diggory, and George’s mate, Lee Jordan, were highly amused with their lover’s costumes; however they had settled on simple dress robes with top hats and canes to play Tuxedo Mask, Sailor Moon’s lover.

Following the twins and their mates was Harry’s old friend from the Dursley’s, Oliver Wood. Oliver had left the Dursleys when he had gotten married to his husband, Marcus Flint. Harry was pleased to see that his good friend was being taken care of so well, but surprised to see that Oliver was three months pregnant and still managed to dress up as Princess Aurora, while Marcus was dressed as Prince Phillip from Sleeping Beauty.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle greeted Harry with a pat on the back from each, dressed as Shrek and Fiona from Shrek, both as green as they could be. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, posing as Ares and Aphrodite respectfully, were last couple to greet Harry before he was dragged onto the dance floor by Hermione.

Shortly after Hermione, Millicent Bullstrode, dressed as a hideous fairy, wanted to dance with Harry; but he was saved by Daphne Greengrass, who was dressed in a high-collared black dress to accurately portray Millicent from Sleeping Beauty.

I found your fingerprints
On a glass of wine
Do you know you’re leaving them
All over this heart of mine too
But if I never take this leap of faith
I’ll never know
So I’m learning to fall
With no safety net to cushion the blow

There was no set time for dinner, so Harry found himself visiting the buffet table as often as possible - which was between dances. He had danced with nearly half of the teen guests within three and half hours. Draco had cut in-between his dance with Pansy, claiming the need for some family time, then proceeded to drag the birthday boy off the dance floor to chat with friends before cutting the cake.

Draco, Hermione, Ginny, Greg, Fred, George, Oliver, and Seamus told Harry how they had found their dominant partners; giving signs for Harry to look for. The main thing that was at least somewhat alike for the eight of his friends was touching - even the slightest touch - would soothe the throbbing he was feeling.

Heading to the now-clear-dining table, they dragged Harry to the ‘birthday chair,’ which was actually Lucius’ chair at the head of table; the only difference was that it was decorated in confetti and balloons.

Sirius brought in a four layer chocolate cake with green candles sparkling brightly on the top layer. As soon as the cake was set down, everyone immediately began the traditional happy birthday song, causing Harry to flush with excitement. After Harry blew out the eighteen candles on the cake, he cut the four layer chocolate cake into pieces for everyone and handed each piece out personally. The majority of the adults then shuffled out of the room with the younger children, who were exhausted by all the excitement; thus leaving the teens and younger adults to create a sort of mosh-pit on the dance floor with the DJ Lucius had hired for the evening.

Somewhere during the many dances, the birthday boy lost his shoes - along with most of the other teens. Harry lost track of the numerous dance partners he had had through out the evening; although he clearly recalled dancing with a female dressed as a male hooker as Garbage’s Androgyny pounded through the stereo.

While he made his round to the punch stand and was pouring a glass for himself, his hand brushed up against a larger, tan hand. He barely heard the muttered apology as his emerald eyes locked dead-on with crimson orbs - this was the person that made the constriction dwindle a decent amount. Opening his mouth to say something, Harry never got the chance as the guest quickly vanished; leaving only a flicker of a crimson cape as the guest intermingled with the moshing teens.

The pain didn’t flood back as Harry expected it to, but it was stronger than before; a whimper escaped his crimson-covered lips. Staring down at the palm of his hand, then glancing back up again, wondered, ‘How did the pain disappear? …Dray said it only stops when… - when he mated…’

Quick as lightning, the black haired birthday boy dashed, darted, and squeezed his way through the moshpit of teens in search of the guest with a crimson cape. Searching desperately, Harry found no one wearing a cape as he maneuvered his way through the throng of dancers grinding up against each other. As the Harry neared the other end of the moshpit, a hand clamped around his slender wrist, bruising it as the hand tightened in a vice grip.

“C’mon baby,” came the slurred voice of a guest, who clearly had too much to drink. “Let’s dance…”

Harry winced at the smell of alcohol pouring from the guest’s mouth, who was breathing down the side of his neck. He shook his head, trying to shout above the crowd that he was busy, but failed miserably as his so-called captor snaked around his waist, press his back against a firm chest. It was then Harry felt the rising phallus of the other man and immediately began wiggling to get free from the constricting hold.

For every time he attempted to escape the tight grasp, the male guest gripped harder, causing Harry to whimper. As he diligently tried to get escape the person gripping his wrist and waist, he knew there would be dark bruises around his wrist come tomorrow. He knew was being dragged away from the moshing group of dancers; to where, he wasn’t quite sure.

It wasn’t until he felt his back smack up against the soft green colored wall of West Wing of Malfoy Manor, did he realized that he was more towards the area of the guest bedrooms. A wave of panic and fear flooded his veins as he felt himself being pinned to the wall by the other man.

‘At least I have a better view of the guest,’ he thought miserably. He was above six foot, Harry estimated - because he, himself, was roughly five foot five, and dressed in a muggle football outfit.

The at-least-six-foot male had extremely pale skin and dark brown hair that had streaks of red in it that hung limply in front of his hazel eyes that were glazed over from the amount of alcoholic he had drunk. Had Harry not known any better, he would have thought the male to be an undead victim of a vampire.

If Harry hadn’t been so frightened and alarmed, he would have found the outfit amusing.

As the football-player leaned down, Harry felt one of the guest’s hands sneak underneath the skirt he was wearing. Immediately grabbing the wrist of the man, he managed to stop the hand from going any further.

“STOP,” Harry demanded, then whimpered when he felt teeth graze his neck. “Don’t - stop - don’t bite my - OW! - my neck!”

Attempting to shove the heavy man off his petite frame, Harry forgot about hand that had been creeping up his skirt; he realized it when the man cupped underneath his phallus. Harry struggled more and earned his phallus being pinched. The deep rumble of the man’s voice rang clear in his ear, as it was seared with hot air, “You know you want this, baby…”

A tear trickled down Harry’s face, unconsciously he muttered aloud in Parseltongue, ‘Sssomeone help…sssave me…’

Little did Harry know the same crimson-cape-adorned guest from earlier happened to be wandering down the same hallway he was being molested in, heard the plea that Harry had gasped. With a blink of an eye, he quickly and roughly threw the other guest off Harry, who collapsed to marble floor with a thud, tears streaming down his face as he shivered, shuddering at what could have happened.

Harry’s mind was so far away, he didn’t hear the spells being cast from either of the men fighting, only the bright shining lights shown threw his tears. Once their wands were discarded, he heard their grappling; the punches and the kicks as they landed on the other body.

The commotion brought the dancers out of the ballroom, pouring into the hallway and immediately whispers spread like an untamed wild-fire about the guests.

The fight ended fairly quickly as the man who had molested Harry was throwing into a pillar; his spine and several ribs snapped with several terrible snaps. The man lay unconscious, heaving desperately for air. Harry’s savior, clad in his crimson cape, swooped Harry up from the floor as Lucius and Sirius managed to push their way through the throng of guests.

As Harry was pulled into his savior’s arms, being held tightly and with care, several of the adults and houseelves rushed in to deal with the severely injured man. He felt the hands of his savior searching over for other physical wounds; unconsciously making him feel safe and protected.

The pain Harry had felt as he entered the room finally subsided completely with the quick touches, filling his chest with a warmth that was soothing, as if lulling him to sleep. Closing his emerald orbs, he quickly tuned out the bustle and chatter of his surroundings, allowing himself to sink into the warmth and comfort his savior was providing.

I bruise easily
So be gentle when you handle me
There’s a mark you leave
Like a love heart carved on a tree
I bruise easily
Can’t scratch the surface
Without moving me underneath
I bruise easily
I bruise easily

Both of Harry’s hands had fisted into the man’s dress shirt, not wanting to let go of the warmth that was encasing his still shivering and shaking form. Burring his head into the exotic smelling neck, all that registered in his head was the earlier pain was gone; that was all that mattered. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know why he didn’t feel the pain, Harry was happy it was gone.

The man carrying him moved into the ballroom and Harry could tell because of the smell of sweat from the dancers. He knew when the person who was holding him sat down because his form slowly began to unwind from the fetus shape it had taken and the arms moved to around his waist in a possessive and protective manner.

Several people came over to make sure he was alright; but Harry chose not to respond, too caught up with being away from the molester and being the arms of the man who had saved him.

The voice that asked if he was alright didn’t register as his brother’s until the deep baritone of the man, to whom he was clinging to, replied, “Draco, for the bloody last time, don’t call me ‘my Lord’. You know how much I despise that crap. It’s Tom; besides, I think your brother has decided I’m going to be his pillow for the rest of the night.”

“Harry,” prodded Draco as his eyes widened in realization at what could be happening with his adopted brother, “does he make the pain in your chest subside?”

A nod from the black haired birthday boy was all Draco need as a grin broke on his face, turning his attention to Tom and slapping him on the back, announced: “Well Tom, welcome to the family!”

It only took a brief second for Tom, otherwise known as the current Lord Voldemort of the Wizarding Society of England, to realize what the words meant. His crimson eyes widened a fraction of an inch before they softened at the bundle called Harry in his arms, tightening slightly around Harry’s waist at the prospect of finally finding his mate. In return, the emerald-eyed birthday boy snuggled closer to the heat rising off of Tom’s chest, pressing his nose into the warm neck and purring in content when Tom stroked his back gently and lovingly.

Draco raised an eyebrow at Tom’s disheveled costume, consisting of a deep crimson poet shirt that was untied at the top - nicely exposing a layer of tan skin beneath, a white buttoned vest, tight black leather pants that were laced in the front with a thick black cord, and his crimson-lined black cape toss to the side; seeing as he had removed it after taking the bundle called Harry in his arms.

“Who are you supposed to be, Tom?” the white haired Black-Malfoy heir inquired as he was joined by his mate, Blaise, who was carrying a flute of champagne.

Flashing a grin at Draco, revealing his canines to be longer than normal human’s fangs, Tom replied: “Ah, Count Dracula.”

It was then that Harry looked up from his glued position in Tom’s arms to his mate’s face. Crimson orbs bore down at him with lust, passion, and worry; causing a small smile to flicker over the birthday boy’s face before Harry rested his forehead on Tom’s shoulder once again.

Shortly after the guest who had molested Harry - it turned out to be the eldest son of the Boles, Lucian - was dealt with by Lucius, both Lucius and Sirius rounded on Tom and Harry for their version of the events; after they had grilled the guards and either threatened to fire or fired them. Harry was too content to talk to either of his fathers; reluctantly leaving Tom’s arms to be checked by both of his fathers and brother. Once they were done with their investigation and determining Harry to be alright, Lucius harshly instructed the deejay to continue on with the party; the teens were eager to retake the dance floor with their moshpit and grinding.

Tom asked his mate for a dance as a high-paced tempo and lively rhythm came over the ballroom; they tangoed to it, earning a thunderous applause when they finished. The complements and applause caused Harry to shrink into Tom’s side, hiding from the attention. Draco then took his younger brother back out onto the dance floor to salsa dance; again earning them attention for the marvelous dancing skills. After Hermione cut in as Harry was dancing with Draco, she finished the cha-cha with the birthday boy before Tom swept his panting black haired mate off the dance floor and to the refreshments.

After ordering and finishing their drinks, Tom whispered into Harry’s ear, breathing heavily, “I vwant to suck yvour blood.”

Harry shivered at the soft caress of hot air sear across his ear, causing him to let out a soft moan of appreciation. Wiggling some-what in the strong embrace, earning a soft groan of pleasure from his mate as his forehead rested on Harry’s shoulder, he whined: “Tom!”

As said man heard his name, he gave a grunt of acknowledgement as he went about kissing up and down the slender neck of his mate.

“Tom!” Harry hotly repeated, “Not while there are children present! …and certainly not in front of my parents…”

All at once, Harry found himself scooped up into the arms of his mate as Tom stalked around the dance floor and up the stairs. Wrapping his arms around Tom’s neck, he felt content, but his stomach was fluttering with butterflies at the thoughts of what the rest of his evening would be like.

Between Tom and Harry, it was only the black haired birthday boy who heard Blaise’s comment: “Well, the birthday boy is gonna get laid, Dray… I say we head in the same direction.”

Harry’s face turned bright red at the connotation of his brother’s mate’s words, and buried his head into the side of Tom’s neck to hid his face and the giggles that spewed from his lips as he heard Draco smack Blaise in retaliation.

Anyone who can touch you
Can hurt you or heal you
Anyone who can reach you
Can love you or leave you

Halfway down the hallway, they had switched positions, to where Harry had his lithe legs wrapped around Tom’s waist and his hands intertwined in locks of brown, while Tom used both of his arms, particularly his hands, to support the tiny body he cradled to his own. It also granted Tom easier access to his young mate’s neck. Harry was too caught up with the kisses Tom was lavishing on his neck to realize they were headed down the halls of the West Wing nor did he know that his mate was granted his own bedroom by his father, Lucius; deemed in case of needs of privacy or alone time.

Once inside Tom’s private room, Harry found himself gently lowered onto a king sized bed that was decorated in silk sheets that matched his own. With a flick of Tom’s wrist, their clothes ended strewn upon the carpeted floor as if they were measly pieces of puzzle, allowing Tom’s calloused fingers to gently graze over Harry’s supple frame. With each tender touch to his body, Harry let out a different vocal approval, until Tom slanted his lips over Harry’s, swallowing the vocal noises. As Tom’s hands slide lower and lower, Harry felt his arouse harden and his hips press eagerly against the inviting body above him. A large hand gripped his left hip as the other ghosted the length of phallus, earning a low groan from the back of Harry’s throat.

Shifting his legs to pull Tom’s warm body closer to his, Harry felt his mate’s own growing arousal; instinctively he moaned at both of their phallus’s touching. That was when Tom slowly broke apart, gasping for air. His crimson orbs bore into Harry’s emerald eyes, silently asking if he should continue while they both slowly pumped air back into their own set of lungs. Harry’s hands made their way from Tom’s backside to his face; memorizing all the details of the chiseled tan face looming above his.

“Pleassse be gentle…” came the unconscious soft hisses in Parseltongue from the black haired boy, whose emerald orbs bore into a pair of crimson eyes that watched him from above. Tom’s hand move from his mate’s phallus to gently stroking Harry’s spine, earning a soft mew of approval from the birthday boy.

So be gentle…
So be gentle…
So be gentle…
So be gentle…

Tom’s crimson orbs widened in surprise at the young Black-Malfoy speaking in Parseltongue, realizing that this was his mate - for only his mate would have the same ability without knowing it. He brushed several strands of black hair out of his mate’s face before searing the rose colored lips with his own, silently promising to honor his petite mate’s plea.

“I will, sssweetie… pleassse trussst me,” he replied before wandlessly coating lube on his fingers, then gently prodding Harry. A whimper of pain came from Harry’s full lips when the entire length of Tom’s finger had breeched his anus and Harry’s fingers dug into Tom’s shoulder blades. Tom patiently waited for his little one to adjust to invasion of his finger, whispering softly in Parseltongue words of comfort.

When he was ready, Harry squirmed some what in Tom’s embrace before the finger began to move around, exploring. They exchanged heated kisses while Tom played with Harry’s erect left nipple, then entered a second finger, slowly scissoring to prepare Harry. By the time a third finger had been added, Harry was bucking against Tom, and Tom felt his mate’s pre-cum starting to seep, which made him wrench his mouth from Harry’s in an attempt to breath. He ground against Harry’s own arousal as he gently removed his fingers and muttered a lubrication charm for his cock.

Tom painstaking slowly entered his beloved, earning whimpers, moan, groans, and other delicious sounds from his mate; hands still eagerly clutching onto his back. Once he was fully inside, he groaned at the pleasurable tightness surrounding his cock. Harry had thrown his head back into the pillows beneath it, granting Tom even easier access to the delectable neck of his mate. He buried his nose into the side of neck, to muff his groans. Gently pressing his lips unto the slender neck, he gently caressed the skin there with his teeth, leaving several love-bites as his claim of Harry. Only when Harry wiggled and hotly murmured, “Pleassse move, Tom…” did the man slowly pull out until just his tip remained inside, then quickly thrust back inside. They quickly created a steady rhythm as they filled the room with moans, pants, groans, and other sounds that could only be repeated by those making love as Harry and Tom did.

While Tom continued to thrust into Harry’s tight anus, his hand worked its way down the front of Harry’s chest and gripped his mate’s hardened arousal and began to pump the phallus in time with his thrusts. Harry suddenly came in Tom’s hand, coating the calloused hand in cum, earning a loud cry from Harry of: “T-T-Tom-m!” which led him to his own climax. Tom spilled his seed within Harry, crying out his mate’s name and collapsing onto of the supple body beneath his. As Tom pulled out of his mate, he wandlessly cleaned them before tucking Harry underneath his chin and pulling the covers around them.

Neither saw the light of soft red flash as they embraced Morpheus and Hypno’s alluring arms pulling them into the Realm of Dreams; nor did they feel the tattoo etch itself on their lower backs.

I bruise easily
So be gentle when you handle me
There’s a mark you leave
Like a love heart carved on a tree
I bruise easily
Can’t scratch the surface
Without moving me underneath
I bruise easily
I bruise easily

Draco was not surprised to find his mate’s arms thrown over him the next morning after rubbing the sleep from his silver-Prussian blue orbs. Studying the Italian’s face as he peacefully slept, he silently hoped that Harry would be as happy as he was with Blaise. While thinking about his brother, he decided to sneak up on Harry and see if he felt any different being eighteen.

Slipping out of Blaise’s loose embrace, Draco pulled on a pair of boxers and one of his boyfriend’s wife-beaters before tip-toeing down the barren hallway to Harry’s bedroom. Instead of knocking, he grabbed the key at the top of the door and unlocked it. Upon silently opening the usually creaking door, he peered inside and found everything as it was after Harry had gotten dressed before the party. Frowning, Draco continued in; not finding his brother in the king-sized bed, stalked out of the room.

Immediately heading back to his bedroom, he clambered back beside Blaise and nudged his boyfriend from sleep.

“Blaise, get up. I can’t find Harry!”

The Italian groaned in protest then flipped to his other side. Glaring daggers at his mate’s back, Draco yanked the covers off, quickly earning a whimper from Blaise. The curly black haired teen yanked the covers back to cover his suddenly exposed lower half as he sat up and faced his steaming boyfriend: “Good mornin’ to you too, Drake…”

Crossing his arms over his chest and huffing, Draco hissed, “You’re not get laid for a week.”

That caught Blaise’s attention. “What? What did I do?”

Draco didn’t reply just headed straight for his door to continue searching for his brother. A moment later, Blaise staggered out of Draco’s bedroom in a pair of boxers and pajama pants. His white haired boyfriend was nearly half way down the hallway, heading towards the master bedroom, where his fathers were still asleep. Blaise sprinted after Draco, quickly caught up with him and swung his mate to face him.

“Dray, what’s wrong? I can’t do anything if you won’t tell me,” the Italian said, chocolate brown eyes boring into silver-Prussian blue with worry etched in them.

The Malfoy heir’s rigid glance fell and he threw himself into Blaise’s open arms. “I can’t find Harry,” he whined. “All I want to do was ask him how he was feeling, but he wasn’t in his room! For all I know, he could have been raped by that guy last night! You have to help me find him, Blaise…”

Blaise stroked the back of his boyfriend tenderly, murmuring hushed nonsense to soothe the frightened teen.


In a guest bedroom down the hallway, a brunette man stirring from his dreams, crimson eyes landed upon a mop of black locks that starkly contrasted against the pallid pillow were fanned out like a halo and eyes that were peacefully closed; as if the young man next to him had no care in the world. Without any warning, the tanned body flipped over, revealing a plethora of faded scars and a tattoo on his lower back.

Crimson orbs widened upon landed on the tattoo. ‘Holy fucking Merlin, I’ve slept with someone else’s submissive mate… oh, I am in shit now.’ Leaning closer, Tom inspected the design on his bedmate’s back. The tattoo rested on the lower back and was obviously magical, seeing as it moved. It was of a green phoenix, its wings spread open, perched above a blue flame. The wings, flame and eyes of phoenix - a dark green mixed with obsidian - moved of their own accord.

Without thinking, he reached out to touch trace the lines. As his cold fingers graced the skin of his bedmate, he was surprised that the black haired young man turned towards his touch. Shaking his head of his thoughts, Tom stretched before clambering out of the king sized bed, heading straight for the shower without a second thought about how screwed he was if his bedmate’s dominate mate discovered what had happened the previous night. Sifting through the medicine cabinet beside the mirror, searching for a hangover potion, when he heard, “Pardon me for voicing my thoughts aloud, sir, but you look like shit.”

Frowning, Tom grabbed the potion, quickly swallowed, shuddering at the awful taste of the potion, and then closed the cabinet. He entered a staring contest with the mirror, which looked back at him with bright, innocent violet eyes; before he softly replied, “No, I am in shit… up to my head in it.”

Once the water turned on the bathroom, the soft echoing of water droplets landing on the marble floor disturbed Harry from his sleep in the bedroom. He rolled over at first, expecting to find a warm body next him, but upon finding an empty space, he slowly rose from the bed. He was pleased that throbbing in his chest from the previous night was gone, but wasn’t sure where his mate had gone. Vividly recalling the events of an autobiography he had read several weeks ago about a female whose mate had bonded with her sexually then left her pregnant, Harry began to fear the same thing would happen to him.

Without much thought, he grabbed his pair of underwear from the floor and slipped both legs into them and pulled them up to his hips before pulling on the crimson poet’s shirt that Tom had worn the night before. Waddling into the bathroom, he sat down on the toilet seat, patiently waiting for his mate to get out of the shower. The mirror’s violet eyes had turned to young black haired Harry as he had entered then murmured, “Are you alright, young master Harry?”

Harry’s emerald eyes turned away from the mirror filled with melancholy; staring blankly at his hands in his lap, he did not bother to reply. ‘I at least have to ask…’

As soon as the water slowly turned off and trickled out to the last drop, Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself for rejection and trying to stop his trembling hands. He didn’t raise his head as his mate stepped out of the shower; it was only when he heard the soft padding of feet, did he open his mouth.

“A-a-are… are you going… to-to le-leave me too?” Harry asked, hiccupping between words.

A warm hand cupped his cheek, causing him to raise his emerald orbs, revealing the tears streaming down. His eyes searched crimson eyes for answering; only finding confusion and sadness in them, Harry threw his arms around the crouched crimson eyed man, simultaneously wrapping his legs around his waist.

The extra weight added to Tom caused him to fumble backwards and land on his derriere. He tugged on the edge of the towel he was clad in before rubbing the black haired young man’s back as he cried.

That was how Sirius, Lucius, Draco, and Blaise found the pair. Upon seeing Harry sobbing in Tom’s arms, Draco rushed forward and pried his brother out of the embrace of the brunette Lord Voldemort; taking his sobbing black haired eighteen-year-old brother into the bedroom to try and calm him. Blaise quickly followed his mate and soon-to-be brother-in-law while Sirius and Lucius moved to talk to Tom.

Lucius watched on as his black haired husband dragged one sober-Tom to the toilet and ordered him to sit before he slammed the door to the bathroom closed. Sirius cast Lucius a look, silently asking if he was going to stay or comfort Harry. Instead of going out into the bedroom, Lucius decided to stay, just incase Sirius was in-need of getting his point through the extremely thick skulled Riddle.

A fuming Sirius was definitely not a pleasant one; Lucius had learned the hard way - this was Tom’s turn to learn not to ruffle Sirius’s usual laid-back demeanor. Poking Tom’s chest with his pointer finger several times, Sirius ground his teeth as he asked, “And just how much vodka did you drink last night, Tom?”

The son of former Lord Voldemort blinked at the sudden question, but replied with a shrug and scratching his ruffled wet brown locks: “Maybe four glasses… I can’t quite recall the exact amount. Nor do I remember exactly what I drank…”

Lucius’s silver-mercury eyes widened - Tom probably didn’t even remember what had happened between himself and Harry the previous night. Muttering a silence spell, Lucius quickly clamped his hands over his ears, waiting for it.

“WHAT?” came the shriek from Sirius, his eyes darkening with rage. “You mean to tell me you have no recollection of what you did with my son last night?!?”

The brunette man, clad in only a towel, dropped his jaw at Sirius’s reaction, but wisely closed it as he prepared himself for the black haired man’s rant. However instead of ranting, Sirius shouted at Tom: “My son is in tears because he thinks you are going to leave him the way his biological parents did! And this whole entire time, YOU couldn’t remember that he’s your mate!”

Sirius’s face was bright red with fury and his Prussian blue orbs grew darker with each passing word. His body was shaking with rage; yet he managed to keep it locked inside as he continued ranting.

“Look at your lower back for Merlin’s sake! You have the same tattoo design Harry has! How could you be so brainless and dimwitted?”

Tom stood up from the toilet, made his way to the mirror before he turned around and peered over his shoulder at the mirror behind him. Sure enough on his lower back, there was a matching phoenix, this one in the purest black, with its wing spread open, green eyes blazing, and a blue flame licking the tail of the phoenix as it moved. Jaw dropping, his crimson orbs glazed over as he softly murmured to himself, “I found my mate… after six years of searching… I finally found him…”

Without listening to another word Sirius said, Tom rushed out of the bathroom as he swung the door open, finding his black haired mate, curled in his brother’s arms, sobbing. Draco was glaring at the brunette, but Tom’s eyes were glued to Harry’s quivering form on the bed.

Kneeling beside the king-sized bed, Tom stretched his hand out towards Harry, gently running his tan fingers in the black waterfall of hair. The tears pouring down the emerald-eyed boy’s face slowly subsided as Tom pushed many waves of love down the bond the two shared. Sirius and Lucius had followed Tom out of the bathroom, Lucius having calmed his husband as much as possible before they re-entered the bedroom. Sirius still raging but had his arms wrapped around his husband’s waist as Lucius’s silver eyes were rather placid as watched the events unfold; they stood off to the side.

The brunette Lord of the Wizarding Society stayed beside his mate, patiently waiting, until all the was left was sniffling. When he believed that his mate was calmed down enough to listen to him, Tom began to speak in hushed Parseltongue for his mate: “I am not going to leave you, Harry. You are my mate, kitten; nothing can or will change that. I did not remember that we were matesss until your father … kindly… informed me… becaussse I had one too many alcoholic drinksss lassst night.”

Draco, Blaise, Sirius and Lucius exchanged frowns and confused eyes as Tom continued to talk to Harry in a tongue they were unable to speak. A pair of red-rimmed emerald eyes snapped up from Draco’s chest to stare into soft crimson. Harry was shocked and bewildered as to how he understood the words tumbling from Tom’s mouth, but listened to the brunette.

“I don’t know why you would think that I would ever leave you, kitten, but I apologize for my earlier actionsss. I have been sssearching for you, my mate, for ssso long that it led me to drinking. Drinking helped to numb the pain I felt… but I don’t need it anymore, now that I have you. I underssstand that it will take a while to get usssed to having a mate, but I will ressspect your wissshesss, alright, kitten? Until you are completely comfortable with our bonding, pleassse accept my apology.”

Tom was not expecting to get his arms full of his black haired mate, but quickly embraced the again-sobbing Harry. He continued to whisper soothing words of comfort to his mate while gently rubbing up and down Harry’s spine.

Satisfied with his work, Sirius quietly tugged Lucius out of the room after he made motions with his hands for his son and soon-to-be son-in-law to follow them.


A month after Harry’s eighteenth birthday party, Draco and Blaise announced they were getting married. It had been on the day Draco and Blaise had met for the first time, November 28th, that Blaise had proposed. Preparations had immediately started upon Sirius and Blaise’s mother, Adrienne Zabini, finding out about the marriage.

While sitting in his brother’s bedroom, waiting for Draco to finish dressing in his white dress robes, Harry let his mind wander, distinctively recalling the past five months. Not only did Harry remember them because he hadn’t been able to see his dominate mate as much as he would have liked to, but simply because Sirius had been extremely ecstatic in planning the wedding between Draco and Blaise. The black haired young man cringed at the thought of what his fathers would do for his wedding…

It was bad enough having to watch Draco try on a hundred and some dress robes, but having to limit them down to one and comment on each one was painful. Harry had gotten stuck with this job because Draco didn’t want Blaise to see him in his wedding dress robes beforehand. The only way he had gotten out of it was when Tom had gallantly saved him for a lunch date and Sirius took over.

Harry couldn’t recall just how many sets of silverware, plates, arrangements of people at tables, colors, and flowers his brother and soon-to-be husband had argued over, but the eighteen-year-old would never look at silverware, plates, arrangements of people, colors, and flowers the same way. Harry had told Tom later that evening that he didn’t care about the details of their wedding - only that Tom and his family were present; in fact, he even went to suggest a private wedding would be appreciated. His mate had laughed at him, explaining that because he, Tom, was an extremely important role in their community - Lord of the Wizarding Society - it was demanded that a public wedding be held. Harry had groaned upon hearing that.

The guest list, robes for the bridesmaid and the best man, Blaise’s dress robes, five course meal, honeymoon arrangements, gift lists, and of course, the invitations had been left to Adrienne Zabini; which Harry was extremely grateful for, then again, Draco’s almost-mother-in-law didn’t have to comfort the pregnant-Draco, who had begun to whine that he would be a whale for the wedding.

By the time the wedding rolled around, Draco was in the middle of his eighth month of pregnancy, and determined not to know the sex of the baby beforehand.

Blaise had done everything, during those months, within his power to pacify his pregnant fiancé. Which was why the colors of the wedding were silver and blue, there were exactly fifty people attending the wedding - meaning five people per table, the wedding was being held in the Black-Malfoy’s backyard or rather their gardens behind the manor, the honeymoon was going to be in Greece, there were three groomsmen: Theodore Nott, Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey, who would be wearing silver dress robes, there were three bridesmaids: Harry, Hermione Lupin-Snape, Daphne Greengrass, who would be dressed in a soft light blue, Blaise’s dress robes were a deep gray rather than black with crimson trimmings, Draco’s dress robes were silver with black trimmings, the appetizers were different kinds of soup and salads, the dinner was a myriad of Italian foods, a dry champagne for drinks, tiramisu or chocolate cheesecake for dessert, and the flowers were blue-purple irises and white lilies.

A shout from Draco disturbed the black haired teen from his thoughts.


Emerald eyes snapped back to attention as Draco walked out of his dressing room in his immaculate wedding silver dress robes and was fiddling with the outer robe that was pure white with designs of silver embroidered into it. His white hair gently brushed his cheekbones and his cheeks were slightly flushed. Harry replied, “Yes Dray?”

Draco waddled over to where Harry was sitting - when he had first learned of his pregnancy, Draco had been extremely fussy about people helping him walk or get around. Playing with the hem of his sleeve, the so-called bride softly asked, “What if I … go into labor… during the ceremony, Ry? What do I do?”

Harry chuckled, earning a glare from his pregnant-soon-to-be-married brother, “Dray, it’s going to be alright. If the baby decides to come earlier, Uncle Sev is fully capable of going through with a c-section. Just take deep breaths like we practiced and then you can take Blaise’s head off… or whatever you feel like taking off at that point in time. You’re going to be fine, alright?”

A weak laugh came from Draco, but he nodded.

Lucius knocked on the door in which the two brothers were in, before peeking his head inside, “Are you ready, Draco?”

All color in his eldest son’s face vanished, but he managed to smile and stood up with the help that Harry and Lucius offered him. Before they exited the room, the head of the Malfoy clan whispered to his eldest son, “You look exquisite, Draco.”

As the music began, Blaise, Theodore, Marcus, and Adrian made their way to the right side of the end of the wedding aisle, which was to the left of the celebrant of the wedding, Remus Lupin-Snape.

The first to walk down the aisle was the flower girl, Murielle Malfois, one of Draco and Harry’s many cousins; dressed in a white and blue dress, that brought out her blue eyes and silver locks. She let white rose petals fall from her tiny fist to the blue carpet beneath her feet.

Following behind her was Daphne Greengrass, keeping an eye out for the young Malfois girl, and appearing to be floating as she walked down the aisle. Hermione went down the aisle in much the same manner as Daphne, in a matching light blue spaghetti strap dress and similar bouquet of white roses, only she wore a smile on her face instead of a blank face as Daphne had done. Harry wore dress robes in light blue with silver trimmings and held a bouquet of white roses as well; he said he didn’t want to feel out of place with Daphne, Hermione, and Murielle holding flowers.

Then Draco walked, or rather waddled, down the aisle with his hand tucked under Lucius’s elbow. After they made it to the front of the aisle, Remus asked who was giving Draco away, to which Lucius replied, “I am.”

From there, the wedding went smoothly, as any normal wedding, with the trading of rings before vows. When Blaise started his vows, Draco felt his water broke and whimpered at the pain he felt creep across his abdomen. Blaise stopped in mid-sentence, while Remus quickly said, “I pronounce you husband and husband, you may now kiss.”

Whispers spread through the guests, unsure of Draco was in labor or if he was just in pain.

Blaise pressed a kiss to Draco’s forehead, before the pain consumed Draco and he crumbled to his knees, being supported by Blaise, as Remus shouted, “SEVERUS TOBIAS LUPIN-SNAPE GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE! YOUR GODSON IS GOING INTO LABOR!”

Severus huffed angrily at the being stuck in the middle of a row with other guests. He angrily growled, “Move!”

Blaise and Harry helped Draco onto a stretcher conjured by Lucius while Severus grabbed one end and Lucius the other. They were unable to use magic to move the stretcher along because they had learned earlier that Draco was extremely sensitive to the magic of others while pregnant.

Blaise held onto Draco’s left hand while Harry clutched onto his right hand. Tom, Remus, Theodore, and Hermione were the only ones to follow the married couple out. Sirius hollered for everyone to head to the reception; that dinner would continue as planned, before he rushed after his family. Adrienne Zabini showed the guests to the reception hall before she followed behind Sirius.

Only Severus, Hermione, Draco, and Blaise were allowed in the room, forcing everyone else to wait outside of the room with conjured chairs. It only took half an hour for the baby girl to merge, but during that time span, Harry and Lucius began to pace, Theodore decided to pull out the book he was currently reading, Remus was trying to keep Lucius calm with words of wisdom from a man who had gone through the c-section himself, Sirius and Adrienne switched between checking on the guests and seeing if the baby was born, and Tom was seated keeping an eye on Harry, fingering a ring in his pocket, mentally debating if now was the right time to ask.

Until he could take no more of his mate’s pacing, Tom tugged at Harry’s wrist when he neared close enough, pulling the surprised black haired teen into his arms. He kneeled in front of Harry before pulling out the ring and asked his mate, “Would you do the honor of making me the happiest man alive by marrying me, Harry Ethan Sebastian Black-Malfoy?”

Harry stood dumbfounded as did Theodore, Lucius, Remus, and Adrienne, before she quickly left to traded places with Sirius. As Sirius rushed back in, Harry squeaked out, “Oh, Tom, yes! A hundred times!”

Then the black haired boy threw himself into his brunette mate’s awaiting arms and felt the silver ring with an emerald surrounded by black onyx and garnet stones slip on his left ring finger. Polite clapping came from Theodore and Remus, while Sirius gushed to his husband about their youngest son getting married.

It was then that Hermione emerged from the bedroom carrying a bundle in green. Softly clearing her throat, she announced, “Draco gave birth to a healthy baby girl.”

Sirius and Lucius then rushed to see their granddaughter, Sirius immediately cooing at the blue-eyed baby in Hermione’s arms. The little girl yawned at the attention as Lucius asked, “Have they named her?”

“No,” the brunette Lupin-Snape replied. “They are arguing over what her first name should be.”

When Hermione reentered the room with Sirius, Lucius, Harry, Tom, Adrienne, and Theodore, Draco and Blaise had named their daughter Isabella Genevieve Sinclair Malfoy-Zabini. Hermione handed the little girl to her ‘mother’, Draco.


Three months later, Tom and Harry found themselves in front of a wedding planner instead of Sirius and Lucius. They had decided to go with a wedding planner because Harry’s fathers were busy doting on their granddaughter, while Blaise and Draco were on their honeymoon in Greece (they had only left after their daughter was three months old because Draco had grown a mother-complex after giving birth).

While the wedding planner left them to look at a book with different color schemes, flowers, and table arrangements, Tom leaned down to his mate’s ear, whining in a hushed parseltongue, “Do we have to go through with a big wedding? After all, we already consssummated our marriage, love,” before placing kisses on the outside of Harry’s ear.

“Tom!” Harry hissed, a blush staining his cheeks while he clutched at the book in his lap. “Dad and Father would kill usss if we didn’t have a wedding! Plusss, you’re the Lord of Wizzzarding World! Your sssubjectsss are going to want to sssee you married off!”

Tom switched back to English as he stopped kissing his petite mate to peer into the deep emerald orbs he loved to get lost in: “So?”

Harry wasn’t able to reply because Tom suddenly captured his lips, pulling Harry into his lap and wrapping his arms around the black haired man’s waist while Harry wrapped one arm around Tom’s neck and began playing with brown locks as they were engaged tonsil hockey.

…So much for talking with the wedding planner.

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