Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Tommy, Son of a Dark Lord	By : SomethingElse Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 30421 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters or places in either the movies or books, and I make no money off of these stories.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter Fourteen: What to do?
           Harry stared at the 'boy' sitting in his parlor, amidst the toys that Teddy had accumulated in his home. Tommy seemed happy, playing with these baby things, rattles, blocks and soft sculpted animals, and it kept him occupied, but Harry wasn't sure what he should do. He had considered calling Ron and Hermione, but as it was their honeymoon, and he had given it to them, telling them to go and not come back until they were well rested, he decided against it. He considered a potion that would keep Tommy asleep while he went out, but it seemed unnecessary as the toys kept him out of trouble, for the most part.

Kreacher had refused to watch the oversized boy unless he was sleeping, and Harry had work to do, so he decided it was time to take Tommy to the authorities. He gathered together what he needed, packed it up and then got his charge. "Come on, Tommy. We are going for a check-up." he said, smiling the entire time. Tommy looked up, pleased by the tone, and smiled back.

         "Can we take this?" he asked, lifting a large stuffed lion that Harry had gotten from Ginny, just before she had broken the news about finding someone else. "I want to call him Griffy." Tommy added as he scooped up the toy and reached for his savior.

           Harry hoisted the boy/man, straining under the weight, when Tommy suggested, plaintively. "Daddy always said that levitro word, when he carried me."

           "Do you mean, Levitarious?" Harry asked and the boy smiled. Lifting his wand and waving it swiftly, Harry chanted the word, and his burden seemed lighter. Harry sighed in relief.

           Outside of the house, Harry apparated them to St. Mungos, careful to keep a firm hold on Tommy and land in a quiet part of the familiar ward where victims of the war and violence that it had brought were kept. Almost immediately, a middle-aged mediwitch rushed over. "Tommy, there you are. Where have you been? We've been so worried about you."

          Harry instinctively held Tommy close, protecting his baby from the sudden rush of hospital staff. Nurses and healer warlocks all gathered, circling Harry and the now cringing Tommy, reaching out to take readings, waving wands to diagnose and poking potion bottles at his tight lipped mouth. Tommy tucked his face into Harry's robes and screamed.

            Everything went silent.

            Harry realized that the silence was not so much in response to Tommy's scream as it was to his wand, in his hand and waving menacingly at the gathered throng. "You're scaring him. Back off and get me someone in authority. I want to speak to Doctor Rheingold. NOW!" Harry said, weaving the wand from one side of the line that watched him to the other.

           "Mr. Potter? What are you doing here?" A familiar voice spoke to his left and he turned to see an elderly man with a crisp white robe covering his long flowing warlock garb. Harold Rheingold was a traditionalist in clothing and hair style, but his medical/magical methods were revolutionary. He was a pure blood, from an old standing family, but his second wife was completely muggle. His first wife had been killed in the early fighting against Voldemort and he had remarried against his family's wishes. He stood back, waving the rest of the staff off and looked inquisitively at Harry burden. "Is that Tommy Riddle, the patient who escaped a full two weeks ago?"

           "You know Tommy?" Harry asked.

           "Know him? I'm one of his doctors. Bring him along, and let's have a look at his condition and the long story I'm sure you have about how you came to be in possession of him." Dr. Rheingold turned toward a door, scowling at the rest of his staff. "Off with you. You all have other patients to tend."

      Harry smiled as he was led away by the only Medi-wizard that Harry Potter trusted.

   In a poshly furnished office, Harry settled Tommy on an examination table and stood close by, not that he could go far, with Tommy clinging to him. He watched as Dr. Rheingold checked the baby over and tutted about this or that. He stopped occasionally to ask questions, like “How did you come to get this bruise, Tommy?” and the patient looked up at Harry silently.

          “He fell out of bed.” Harry answered for him.

          “Ah, I see. So, you’ve taken steps to assure that won’t happen again, I hope.” Dr. Rheingold asked.

         “Oh, yes. I put rails up and make sure their secure before I leave him. Who is he, Doctor? I mean, who is he really? I know who he thinks he is.” Harry finally asked and Dr. Rheingold stood up and patted Tommy on the head.

          “Tommy, would you like to play with my box of toys?” he asked and Tommy smiled widely. “Down you come.” The older man said reaching out and being rebuffed by his patient. “Okay, so can Harry get you down?” Tommy nodded and Harry lifted him from the table and onto the floor. Tommy hurried off to a side door that opened for him and led to a room where a box of toys waited. It was like a padded playroom and Dr. Rheingold held Harry back as he closed the door. “He’ll be fine in there. Can’t get hurt on anything. Let’s have a little talk, shall we Mr. Potter?”

           “That sounds like a good idea. I have so many questions. Tell me, please. Who is Tommy Riddle?”

           “That’s probably the best answer you’ll be able to get, Harry. The best we can figure, he’s Draco Malfoy, but he’s been changed by some dark spell into what you see there. Physically, genetically, he’s the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and Tom Riddle, AKA Lord Voldemort. He is Tommy Riddle.”

             “But, I saw Draco Malfoy. Just today, this morning. At his house.” Harry insisted.

             “Yeah, that’s another case. See, who you saw this morning, was Oliver Wood, polyjuiced to look like Draco. It is a long story, but before that, I need to know how you found Tommy. We’ve been looking for him for fifteen days.”

            “I didn’t find him. He found me, actually. I was shopping at Diagon Alley, and there he was. He was scared, so I took him home. This is all very hard to understand. How is it that he doesn’t know how to do, . . anything?” Harry asked.

            “That bit of dark magic, again. We can teach him, but only slowly. Somewhat like he’s relearning at a rate slightly faster than a child. He’s reached the age of around four, I’d say. Other than the bits about diapers and bottles, falling out of bed and thumb sucking, that is. We’ve tried to break him of that, but without breaking him, you understand, it’s difficult. We think he remembers what he was before, but it’s deeply buried. Like some induced amnesia.”

            One of the things that Harry liked about Dr. Rheingold was his ability to mesh muggle theories and training with his magic and the wizard world in general. He had helped Harry deal with the residual stresses that his battle with Voldemort, his early life under the care of neglectful and abusive muggles and the training he’d received, in the name of the better good, from Dumbledore.

              "Well, then I guess I'll just leave you to it. I've got stuff to do." Harry said, standing and turning toward the door. He got about three steps before Dr. Rheingold stopped him.

              "Like what, Mr. Potter? What are you doing with your time, now that the Dark Lord is dead?" he asked and Harry froze in mid-step. He turned back and glared ineffectively at the man.
             In another part of the hospital, a young blonde girl was screaming and panting, straining and crying, and at her side stood the young red-haired man that was her only support. He had stood by her, when her mother had been killed just before the battle of Hogwarts where his own brother had also fallen to Lord Voldemort. They had kept each other from succumbing to the bitter thoughts that often came to the survivors of trajedies like the wizarding war.

           Hannah fell back into George's arms, panting out as she waited for another contraction to follow the others she'd already managed through. The medi-witch at her feet smiled encouragingly. "Any second now. I can see the head."

          "One more time, Hannah. Just push hard and let's see what we have, okay?" George said and Hannah turned to smile his way.

         "Okay, Georgie. I'll do it for you, and Fred." she said and he smiled warmly at her.

           "Yeah, for Fred." he said and the next contraction flooded the girl's body.

            Hannah pushed and George held her as she gave birth to a beautiful, or maybe handsome was the word, baby boy. He had black hair and was absolutely gorgeous.

            She named him Frederick Lawrence Weasley-Abbott.

           He would never find out who his real father was if Hannah had anything to say about it.
- 13
- 14
- 15
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tommy, Son of a Dark Lord