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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
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AN: Don't forget about the * and # for those of you who don't like scat or WS. On with the fun.

Anna: Don't worry. Even though I sometimes feel like pulling this story, I'll keep it here. Reviews or not. I'm too determined to get it all posted. Then, I'll decide.

Chapter Nineteen: Growing up?

“Harry! Harry, he needs you!” Ron called and the Chosen-one rushed into the room.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

Tommy looked upset and Ron looked mortified. “Tommy needs a change.” the boy said and Harry glared at Ron.

“Hey, I'll watch him play, but that's my limit. I'm not doing . . . that.”

“I wouldn't expect you to, but don't holler like it's an emergency. I thought he'd gotten hurt. Merlin, Ron!”

*

Harry grabbed his baby, carrying him easily to the nursery, where he had redecorated to fulfill the needs of raising a small boy, with all the necessary furnishings and supplies. A changing table sat in an alcove, and a crib and dresser filled the rest of the space. He had contacted Miriah Standish, the witch who had perfected expanding and shrinking magic and made the sculptures for the toy store. She had enlarged the crib and changing table to fit Tommy's needs, and Harry used the accommodation spell to ease his job a little.

The table had a special door on the front that popped open with the simple push of his knee, and inside he kept his diaper changing supplies. He had a stack of clean nappies, powders, ointments, pins and magic washcloths that would become damp and warm with a good squeeze. He lifted Tommy onto the table and stripped off his shorts, undoing the pins and sticking them into the padded cover until he needed them again. Harry had perfected a spell that would keep the smell for reaching his nose, and he cast it subconsciously now. He lifted the baby's legs, to wipe away the mess, struggling to keep from crinkling his nose at the sight of Tommy's feces. He tossed the soiled diaper into the special bin that would wash it, dry it and return it folded into the cabinet for future use. He cleaned the remaining mess with the special washcloth and tossed it in after. This way Kreacher would not be able to complain about being asked to help with this task.

A new diaper went under the exposed bottom, some powder covered the skin to protect it, and Harry pinned it into place. The diapers were something he found at Wrongnat's, made to be leak-proof, and with just enough wizard space to look less bulky under Tommy's clothes. Anyone who didn't know about him would think he was just wearing pants under his clothing, and that helped to keep them from drawing attention when they went out, especially when visiting Uncle George, Hannah and little Fred on Diagon Alley.

#

“There, now. Does that feel better?” Harry lowered Tommy's legs when his shorts were back in place and helped the boy to sit up. Tommy nodded, but Harry recognized the look of a good cry coming on, and picked him up, cuddled him close and turned to scowl at his best friend. “I think Uncle Ron wants to apologize.” he said.

“Me? Wait a minute. I didn't do anything.”

“Didn't you? Causing a fuss over something that's not Tommy's fault? Either apologize, or you could just fetch Mione and go home.” Harry said and Ron's eyes went wide.

“But, Mione will . . . Oh, okay. Tommy, I'm sorry I scared and upset you. I'm rubbish with diapers, that's all. It's not your fault, it's just me. Am I forgiven?”

Tommy turned, his face bland at first, then he smiled and reached for the ginger man. “Unco Won, forgivved. Come make powwyjuice wit Tommy.” he said and Ron sighed as he took the boy back to his toys on the blanket in the parlor.

“Who do you want to look like?” he asked as they started down the stairs.

“Wike Oliver. He's my best fwend, uver dan Harry.”

Oliver had returned to Malfoy Manor, and still there was no sign of any change in Tommy. Dr. Rheingold was convinced that it would be soon, though he urged patience.

The first effects were not what was expected.

“Harry? I feel sick.” Harry turned to find his charge sinking to the floor on top of the stuffed lion that he had hauled behind him into the hallway.

“Tommy? Tommy! Oh, god. Come on, let's get you back to bed. You're so hot. You're burning up. Kreacher! Kreacher!” Harry put Tommy in his bed as the elf popped in. “Go get George or Ron and Hermione from the Burrow. Tell Ron to get Dr. Rheingold. Hurry.” when the elf disappeared, Harry conjured a bowl of water and sank a washcloth into it. He bathed the sweaty face and mumbled incoherently to the boy who'd come to mean the world to him. It suddenly occurred to him that he could lose Tommy, either to this mysterious illness, or to the return of his memories.

He was just about to panic, when he a hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped. “How's the patient?” Dr. Rheingold said.

“I don't know. He's hot and he passed out.”

“Let me have a look, hmmm?” and Harry rose to give his place up to the doctor. Ron and Hermione, along with George and Hannah, were standing in the doorway to the nursery, and he walked over to them. The women held him, while the two brothers offered their support by way of a hand on each shoulder. It seemed to take hours, but in truth it was less than fifteen minutes, before the doctor rose and came to them. “He's got a cold. It's still pretty severe, but it'll be fine. I'll give you some potions, and check on him tomorrow. It seems the rune was inhibiting some infections and bacteria as well. He'll probably get sick a few times before his system can fight for itself. Don't worry, Harry. He'll be fine.”

“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione asked, and Harry realized he was crying.

“I was afraid I was losing him. Can you believe it? I was afraid of losing Tommy, who was my enemy not even a year ago? I can't believe how important he is to me, already. I can't lose him, Mione. I can't.”

“Harry, if he gets better, he might want to go home. You won't want to stop him. It's what you've been working for, all this time. Think of Tommy. Think of Draco.” Dr. Rheingold patted his shoulder and Harry looked down.

“I want what's best for him. If he wants to leave, I'll let him. I won't try to stop him.”

“It's like this with all the patients that are important to us. We see them through, and we hurt when they go, but we've made them well, and that's what matters. You've done a wonderful job of caring for him. Be proud of that, Harry.”

“Harry? Tommy wants Harry.” the call from the bed had the whole group rushing to the bedside, Dr. Rheingold and Harry closest to the pillows. “Why Docor Weingode here, Harry?” Tommy asked.

“Because you got sick, young man. You will do what Harry says, and take your potions, and I won't have to come back as often, do you understand?” Tommy nodded solemnly and the group all smiled at him. “Good. Now, I've got to go. I'll come tomorrow, and I expect to see you feeling much better.”

“Thanks, Doctor.” Harry said and he lifted Tommy onto his lap as the man let Ron lead him to the floo. George and Hermione sat on the bed while Hannah stood behind them. “You scared me, Little Man. How do you feel?”

“Tired. Can I have my bottle and sleep in your bed?” Tommy asked and Harry let out a nervous laugh.

“Sure. I'll get it, if you'll let us get you changed and into bed. George, can you put some rails on the left side, so he won't fall out?” Harry rose and hefted his charge while the others stood as well.

“Hannah and I can take care of changing him, if you want to go get the bottle?” Hermione offered.

“Auntie Mionie and Auntie Hannah can gib Tommy hims baff?”

“You could skip the bath for tonight, Tommy. I think a quick cleaning spell will be enough. He just wants to play.”

“I don't mind, do you Hannah?”

“Bathing him?”

“I think Harry's right. Just get him changed, and I'll get the bed ready. Come on ladies,” George said with a wink Harry's way. “Tommy is too sick to play in his bath tonight.”

By the time Ron returned, Harry was heading down to the kitchen, George had left to fix Harry's bed in the next room, and the women were fussing with Tommy's clothes, choosing a pair of pajamas for him from the things in the trunks that Harry had found in Voldemort's ruined house. “Oh, how cute these are.” Hannah cooed, as Hermione held up a sleeper with wands all over it, casting pink and blue spells at each other.

Ron stood back and shook his head. “You girls are mental.”

Hermione turned and smiled. “Unco Won, which jammies should Tommy wear tonight while he sleeps with Harry?” she asked, holding up those while Hannah lifted another that had snitches and quaffles flying around being chased by beater bats.

“What? No. I can't pick out of those. Tommy, what do you want to wear?” Tommy shrugged and reached into the trunk and pulled out his favorites, green with Slytherin emblems and tiny black snakes all over them. “It figures.”

Tommy was tucked into the bed, a bottle dangling from his lips, when Harry said goodbye to his friends at the floo. Hermione waited until they had all gone, before she turned to Harry and smiled. “I'm getting a lot of experience hanging around you two. I wanted you to be the first to know. I'm pregnant, Harry.”

“Hermione! I'm so happy for you. What does Ron say?”

The girl cringed. “Like I said, the first to know. I'd like you to help me tell him.”

“Oh, Hermione. I think this is something you should do on your own. I love you both, but this is between you. I've got to get up there in case he needs me. Goodnight, and congratulations.”

“Thanks. The Burrow.” and she disappeared in a puff of blue smoke.

Harry crawled under the covers and turned to watch the sleeping boy next to him. While he slept, Tommy dropped the bottle and rolled over, facing Harry on the pillow. Griffy was abandoned behind him, and his face was peaceful in sleep. He looked . . . . like Draco, even more than ever, and Harry studied the face of his long time rival.

“What will happen when you come back? How much of this will you remember, too?” Harry sighed, and closed his eyes. They opened again, when long slender arms enclosed him and pulled him closer, snuggling up and resting a head of curls under Harry's chin. Sleepy snores rose up to his ears and lulled the Chosen-One to sleep.

Weeks passed, then months. Tommy aged slowly, often in the tiniest ways that would go unnoticed by anyone who didn't spend as much time with him as Harry did. He learned to feed himself, and could sleep with the rails down on his crib, or on the bed in the spare room, but he preferred Harry's bed, whenever Oliver was away.

The potions he pretended to make became more complicated, and George had a stack of them written down that he had begun to share with Dr. Rheingold when the man came to Grimmauld Place for the visits, since it was getting harder to keep the hospital staff from going to the papers about the case.

Harry and Oliver had managed to relive a great many of Oliver's worst experiences, lifting the shadows from their sex life with each successful event. Dr. Rheingold approved of the treatment, when Oliver and Harry talked to him about it, and that spurred them to try even more things.

One night, Oliver arrived early, while still under the effects of the special polyjuice.

Harry had put Tommy to bed early, and met him at the door. “Good to see you, Draco. Have you come fior your wand?” When Ollivander had reopened his shop, Oliver had gotten a new wand, that responded to him better. Harry had received the hawthorn, to keep for Draco, when he was ready for it.

“Yes, Potter! Give me my wand, and make sure it's polished, first.” Oliver said with a sneer. They had planned this out, deciding to live one of their mutual fantasies, that had been shared on a recent session with the doctor. Oliver pushed past and pinned the boy-who-lived to the wall, sneering in character as he did so. “It's about time you found out that some wizarding families can do special things for you, Potter. Now, about that wand.”
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Tommy, Son of a Dark Lord