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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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- 21
AN: This is a short chapter, cause the split just worked.

Minervaq: No, I won't abandon this. Like I keep saying, it's complete, so I just have to have some enthusiasm for posting. It's about to go even more squicky, so read with caution.

Chapter Twenty: Draco returns

The unnatural silence is what woke Tommy, and once awake, he couldn't return to his sleep. Plus, he was feeling cold there again and that meant he was needing someone to take care of him, now. Tommy climbed out of the bed, over the short rail and onto the ground. His footies making scraping noises on the wooden floors were the only sounds in the house.

Griffy tucked under his arm and one thumb safely between his lips, Tommy ventured into the halls and through the house. At the open doorway, he stopped and watched the movements of the two within, undulating, kissing and thrusting together with intense expressions and Tommy wondered why they looked familiar.

No sound emerged, even though their mouths worked out words between heated kisses and the dark-haired man that Tommy knew was his savior seemed to be calling out. Tommy focused on the blond man on top and his mind struggled to place the face that seemed so perfect as it licked and nibbled the jaw of his Harry Potter. Tommy dropped the large stuffed lion as recognition struck him.

Harry turned away from the sleeping man and rose to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked back and regarded the other. Oliver's hair was now more closely cropped and back to the golden brown color he was known to have. Surely, his eyes had reverted to the soft brown tone behind those closed eyelids. The brunet smiled as he threw off the covers and rose to his feet. When he smelled the coffee his palette called for a cup and his stomach agreed. Halfway to the door, he saw the large stuffed lion on the floor of the bedroom, just inside the door. Harry sprinted down the hall in the direction of the nursery.

The railed bed was empty and there was a pile of clothes on the floor just next to it. Tommy was nowhere to be seen, so Harry turned around and aimed for the living room and kitchen.

Draco sat at the table, a cup of coffee and a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hands. He wore Harry's bathrobe and his dark black hair was damp and combed back neatly. Harry stared at him from the door and Draco looked up, his hazel eyes intent. "Tell me something, Potter? How long have we been intimate? I seem to be suffering from some memory charm or obliviation curse."

"Intimate? Draco, it is you, isn't it?" Harry asked as he stepped forward.

"Of course it's me. Don't play games. You must know how much I hate that sort of thing." Draco snapped folding the paper.

"Right. Um, you've lived here for seven months. What do you remember?" Harry asked.

"Remember? . . ." Draco began then hesitated. "Hey! You took my wand! The Dark Lord is angry at me for that!" he shouted, standing up.

"Yeah, he was. By that act, I was able to gain the control of the Elder wand and defeat him. I still have your wand, Malfoy. I'll give it to you as soon as you ask for it." Harry explained.

"How long ago was this?" Draco asked looking down suddenly. "Oh, shit. Pott . . .eh, Harry? Maybe you should get dressed. " He said staring blatantly.

Harry looked down at his naked body and smirked. "Okay, stay here. I'll be right back..Oh, hey Draco? Do you remember Oliver Wood?" Harry asked from the edge of the living room.

"Wood? The quidditch Captain?" Draco asked in return.

"Yeah. That's the one. He lives here, too. Some of the time. Don't wake him up until we have talked."

Harry rushed to his room and pulled on a pair of loose sweats and his softest t-shirt. He decided to forgo any underwear for now. Then, he returned to the main rooms of the house, after closing the guest bedroom door and tossing Griffy into the bed.

Draco had put his empty cup into the sink and folded up the prophet on the table. When Harry arrived near the couch he was staring out the window.

"Sit down, Draco. Let's talk." Harry suggested, dropping into his regular place. Malfoy came away from the curtains and lowered himself onto the recliner across from him. Harry tried to stifle a sigh at the fact he had chosen to move away from him, finding he missed the familiar baby in his lap. It was silly, so he pushed it back in his mind.

"I noticed you didn't ask for that wand." Harry began. "I'll keep it safe until you're ready."

"Thank you," Draco replied. "Tell me what I've missed and why."

"Well . . .Voldemort is dead. That was almost a year ago. Your parents are fine, they managed to turn, just in time. Some mild sentencing, but they came through. You can thank Oliver for some of that, but we'll come to it." Harry paused as he watched Draco's expressions.

Harry was afraid. Mostly, he was afraid that any mention of Tommy and he'd lose Draco again to the other personality. But, part of him missed Tommy and was afraid to let the pure-blood wizard heal completely and revert to the old insufferable asshole he had been. "You were held by . . . .that mad man for most of that time. He messed with your head and you were in the psyche ward at St. Mungos."

"I was . . .crazy?" Draco asked. "I don't feel crazy."

"Not crazy. It was a defense mechanism. You protected yourself there." Harry explained. "Draco, you've been through some bad shit. Most people would have gone crazy, but you survived."

"So, why am I here?" The ex-blond asked. "Why with you and . . . " here he looked around for a bit.

"Oliver?" Harry supplied and then he laughed "Yeah, that is a bit strange. Okay, Oliver was there, too. In St. Mungos. They sent you home, after seven weeks of work, they thought your parents would be able to help you. But, it didn't work. They had to take you back. That was when you escaped."

Draco stared at Harry as he listened to the words and no recognition came his way.

"It took you most of two weeks to find me. I don't know how you managed until then. You called me your savior. It scared me at first, but later it felt more real than that whole Golden boy thing. With you it was personal. The healers at St. Mungos said you did better here than in the hospital and even your parents agreed to let you stay." Harry paused again.

"But what about us?" Draco asked.

Harry turned toward the hall and then looked back at the dark-haired man across from him. He twitched involuntarily.

"What is with you, Harry? You’re jumping around like a house elf." Draco asked.

"Sorry." Harry responded, blushing slightly. "This feels a little odd. I'm not used to dealing with you like this."

Draco scowled but waited on the other wizard.

"Draco, what you saw . . . back there. It wasn't us . . .more, it wasn't you. We haven't ever . . . you know, been intimate that way. We are close, have been, but it's different." Harry began, but the look on Draco's face stopped him.

"I know what I look like Potter. I saw it." Draco insisted.

"How, Malfoy? Think about it, okay." Harry was becoming frustrated and worried and it showed in his tone. "How could you see that? Have you even looked at yourself, yet? Your hair, Draco. Look at it." Harry insisted.

Draco looked annoyed as he reached up and tugged at his shorter hair. He pulled a lock from his forehead and rolled his eyes up to see it. "Bloody hell! Who dyed my hair?" he said of the black locks.

"It's not dye, Draco. It changed. Your eyes, too." Harry explained carefully. "And you use a different name, sometimes."

The hazel orbs reverted to him in an instant, squinting as he tried to see through Harry's obvious deception. After a moment, they softened only slightly. Then Draco looked angry. "So, how long have you, been having gay sex with a doppleganger of me?" he asked.

"I Don't! Okay, not usually. See . . .that was Oliver. He . . . .he lives with your family, most of the time. Keeps you alive and in circulation. It's very complicated." Harry finally said in defeat.

"Wood? Has been impersonating me? And my parents allow this, or is he fooling them?" Draco scowled.

"They know it isn't you." Harry tried again. "It's not to fool those close to you, but the general public. And, it's because Oliver needs it."

"I don't bloody care what Oliver needs. Just because he gets off on being me, living My life, fucking you for me and playing house using my parents, doesn't mean I have to let him." Draco screeched, jumping to his feet.

"It's not like you have been!" Harry returned, standing opposite and grabbing him by the shoulders. This wasn't going well and he wondered if Oliver could do better at explaining it. "You've been someone else, Draco. You've been Tommy! Tommy won't be Draco, he can't!"

"Tommy? I don't know any . . ." The cry that followed was all the warning that Harry had as Draco crumbled into his arms and curled up. Harry scooped him up, muttering the accommodation spell before returning to the couch.

Tommy was wrapped tightly around him, one thumb secured in his mouth as his face pressed into his savior's shoulder. "Sometimes, you need to be Tommy." Harry whispered into the soft black hair. "And sometimes you will need to come back, Draco."

When Oliver woke, he stretched languidly in the bed and smiled at the memory of his last moments of consciousness. A soft warmth starting in his lower belly, radiated through him as he remembered Harry's voice, calling him Draco as he climaxed under him.

This had been a fantasy for him, ever since he had begun the physical portion of his relationship with the golden boy and it had been as potent as he had expected.

Now, as he climbed out of bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Oliver hoped it had not caused any rifts between them. As enjoyable as it had been, he would mourn the loss of his closeness with Harry too much to justify it. Quickly, dressing in his own clothes, he brushed his short hair and went in search of his housemates to verify the results of last night.

Harry was in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee and staring at a second mug across the table. "Tommy woke up early. He came in." Harry said sensing Oliver's proximity. "He was Draco, Oliver. For a few minutes, he was Draco."

"Wow!" Oliver said, sliding into the open chair and staring at the abandoned cup, as well. "What should we do?"

Harry turned to him, his eyes red behind the trademark glasses. "Oliver, I don't know. It was . . . wrong. I was thrilled that he remembered, but I was scared that I'd lost my baby.”
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Tommy, Son of a Dark Lord