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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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Chapter Twenty-two: Pranking Uncle Ron

Harry was up early, cleaning up the parlor before he went to Diagon Alley for some much needed supplies. It was easier than sending Kreacher, since he tended to forget things that Harry asked for, and Harry liked to choose his own clothes and reading materials. He was going to look for some books on hair coloring, while he was out. Tommy had not risen yet, and he was tempted to wake him and ask if the baby wanted to come with and visit Uncle George.

Before he could decide, the object of his thoughts stepped out of the hall and into his bedroom doorway. “Hey, Tommy. How would you like to go shopping with me?” Tommy stood silently, chewing on his lip and fidgeting with his shirt tails. “Is something wrong? What’s bothering you?”

“Have I really been calling Weaselby Uncle Ron for the last few months?” Tommy asked and Harry chuckled.

“As a matter of fact, you have. Does this mean you remember?” Tommy nodded and Harry rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Draco and laughing with delight. “This is wonderful. How long have you remembered?”

“I had a dream, it woke me up, and when I looked around the room, I knew where I was and how I got there. I remembered That, and thought it must have been a mistake. Part of the dream, really.”

“Nope. It’s the reality part of it.”

“You cannot tell him that I have my memories back.”

“Oh, but your Uncle Ron will be so pleased by that. He cares about Tommy. Not enough to change diapers, or babysit, but he cares.”

“The images that that conjures are very disturbing.”

“I guess we can keep our secret for a bit. What are you planning?” Harry plopped down on the bed and watched his charge.

“Just a little fun, if I can keep this up long enough.” Draco gestured to himself as he spoke, and Harry understood his concern - If Tommy stayed as a part of his consciousness, and didn’t become dominant again.

“We’ll take it one day at a time.” Harry responded and Draco looked scared. His hazel eyes, that had begun to remind Harry more of the silver grey that had previously adorned that face, were damp with emotion. “What is it, . . .Tommy? Draco? Who are you right now?”

“Potter, I don’t really know who I am anymore. I want to regain my old self, but I don’t think I can give this up so easily. Does that bother you?” he gestured in the direction of the nursery and Harry understood.

“You are Tommy, Draco. It’s not something you chose, but I wouldn’t ask you to just abandon it. I don’t think I want you to. I want to . . .”

“What?” Draco asked.

“I like Tommy. I like who I can be with him?”

“You want to keep playing Papa to an oversized baby?” Draco asked, his hand rising to scratch at his short black curls.

“Sometimes. Sometimes, I want to spend the day talking to a fellow student who’s been through the war and survived, albeit in a perversely unique way. I also liked what it felt like to . . . oh, shit! I got off when Oliver fucked me with your face, okay?”

“So, a romantic liaison wouldn’t be out of the question?” Harry smirked as Malfoy drawled the suggestion with a long breathy tone. “I could get into that. I admit it bothered me when I first thought about it, because I didn’t remember it. But, if we gave me some memories. That, I would like.”

“Well, like I said. One day at a time.” Malfoy smiled and turned away, picking up Harry's wand from the dresser and looking around the room. Harry waited to see what would happen this time, and he was surprised by it just the same.

“Harry? I’ve . . I think I’ve soiled myself.” Draco/Tommy sounded frightened and embarrassed, and Harry rose and hurried to him. “It was an accident, really.”

“I know. Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m a . . . big boy. I’m too big to . .”

“No, no. It’s okay. Even big boys have accidents. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

          Draco let Harry lead him to the nursery, lift him up onto the table and begin to strip and clean him. It was habit to the Chosen-one, and Harry hardly thought about what was going through the mind of his charge, until he had fastened on a clean nappy and pulled up Draco’s shorts. He was reaching up to help Tommy from the table when he realized what he’d done.

          It was odd to Draco, the way he let Harry care for him, without complaint or struggle, and he lay quietly, absorbing the experience, with his mind in the present, for the first time. He could have fought to keep his dignity, or some such foolishness, but really it seemed like it was far too late to worry about something like that. Harry had been caring for him for months, nearly a year, he thought, and there was very little that the other wizard had not seen. So, when Harry hesitated, just as he was about to get Draco down from the changing table, it sent a chill through his pale skin. “Thank you, Harry.” He said reaching to the Boy-who-lived so that he could complete the move.

          “You’re welcome, . . Draco?”

          “For now, yes. But, I don’t think you would be wrong to call me Tommy, either.”

          “Okay. So, I’ve got to go shopping. Do you want to come with, or would you rather stay here?”

          “I don’t think I’m ready for that. I’ll just stay here. . . . Harry?”

          “Yeah?”

          “What would I be doing, if I stayed here?” Harry had again gone with his habit and carried his baby from the nursery to the main floor of the house.

          “Usually, you just play, while Kreacher watches you. I guess, you could read, or something.”

          “I’d like that.” Draco smirked as Harry put him on the floor and stepped back.

          “Come on, I’ll show you the library.” When they had gotten there, Harry waited for Draco to choose a book and then showed him to the parlor, where his toys were still gathered on his blanket from his last playtime. Draco chose a chair, to the side, and sat with his book, looking at the play area, even as he opened the pages and held the book in front of him. Harry smiled and went to the floo, turning to say good-bye before he left. He decided not to visit George, and hurried home to find Draco seated in the same chair, the book abandoned on his lap and his eyes glued to his collection of toys.

          “Why don’t you just go play? I’ll read for a bit, then we can have a talk after lunch. You look like you want to, so don’t fight it. It’s okay, really.” Draco looked up with thankful eyes and Harry smiled at him.

          Draco sat on the floor, his head tilted to one side and his toy wand lax in his hand. The collection of other toys was still arranged in a semi-circle around him, waiting. He shifted, feeling the bulk of the nappy under him and looking over to where Harry sat reading a book. They had spoken as they ate, discussing some of the things that had transpired over the last year, and Harry seemed to know that he wanted to explore the feelings that he'd been dealing with, and not express the thoughts he had, just yet.

          As he sat there, the sound of the floo roaring to life filled the parlor and Ron's voice could be heard, “Harry? Oliver? Is anyone home? Tommy?”

          Draco looked up again, and Harry was looking his way. He smiled, and it was a very adult smile. “Unco Won!” Draco called as he jumped to his feet and hurried into the hall. “Come play wiff me.”

          “Where's Papa?” Ron asked when he found himself holding a very heavy boy. “Levitarious.”

          Draco had yet to feel the accommodation spells with his memories somewhat intact and the lightening of his body was a bit disconcerting, but being in the arms of a Weasley, knowingly, was even odder. “Papa is in the parlow. He's weeding about hair.”

          “Hair? Are you still trying to solve your messy hair problems, Harry?” Ron called.

          “Come on in, Ron. I'm thinking of changing Tommy's hair back to blond. I want to find something that will stay. Permanently.”

          “What? No. If you do that, then he'll be like . . . you know, Draco. I can barely handle him like this.”

          “Don't you wuv me, Unco Won?” Draco asked with a very innocent expression on his face. Harry watched with a stiff look, trying not to react to the teasing that was happening under Ron's nose.

          “What? Oh, yeah. You're okay, Tommy.   l-l, . . love you. Of course, I do. You're a cute kid. God, don't you dare tell Mione about this, Harry.”

          “Me?”

          “Is Auntie Mione coming over?” Draco asked, tightening his legs around Ron's waist, shifting so that the bulk of his nappy pushed against the red-head's hip. “I want Auntie Mione. Where she is?”

          “She had to stay with her mom. Her mother isn't doing too well, since they had the curse lifted. Oh, shit. Oh, sorry. Since the spell was removed. She . . .Harry?”

          “Papa, Unco Won said that bad word!”

          “Uncle Ron, don't curse in front of the baby.” Harry mocked.

          “Harry, could you? Tommy, why don't you go make some pepper-up potion? Uncle Ron is real tired,”

          “You want me to make you potion?” Draco asked.

          “Yeah, that's what I want. Go make me a potion.” Ron put him down and Draco returned to his pile of toys. He took out his wand and waved it toward the kitchen.

          “Accio firebrand potion.” he whispered and the flask flew into his hand. He thought nothing of the fact that he had performed magic with a toy wand. He poured the contents into one of the toy flasks and waited as it said, “Thanks for that bezoar. That will make a great antidote.”

          Ron sat opposite Harry, near the window, and he wasn't paying attention to the activities of the boy as Draco came back, dropped to his knees and looked up, the flask in his hands. “Here, Unco Won.”

          “Huh? Are you letting him make real potion, Harry?”

          “It's just juice.”

          “Okay, thanks Tommy.” Ron tipped the flask up and swallowed the potion, coughing and gasping when the firebrand potion took effect. His eyes watered and his nose ran, the burning sensation flowed through him and his skin flushed bright pink, making his hair look orange in contrast.

          “Tommy, where did you get that? What did you give to Uncle Ron?” Harry barked and Draco affected a frightened and tearful expression.

          “It's potion. I made it so Unco Won would feel better. He looks better.” Tommy ran down the hall and into his room, crying the entire way.

          Ron continued to gasp as Harry pounded his back and watched him. “I better g-go home. M-mum will know what to give me.” and he hurried to the floo, barely able to gasp out his destination.

          Harry chuckled and then went to see where Draco had gone. “Draco? Hey, Draco? Where are you?” He found the boy sitting on the floor near the bed, curled up and shaking. “Hey, are you alright? What is it?”

          “Y-you a-are m-m-mad.” Draco stuttered, tears flowing down his cheeks. What had started as a joke had suddenly filled him with dread and his fears that Harry would reject him returned full force. He knew it was irrational, but Ron was Harry's best friend and Draco was the expendable party here. “I-i'm s-s-sorry, Harry. I'm s-s-sorry, Papa.”

          “Oh, no. Tommy, I'm not mad. Well, not real mad. It was a dirty trick, and Ron will not be happy, but I won't hurt you. Don't be scared.”

          “But, I was bad. You have to punish bad boys.” Draco said with a few soft sobs.

          “I suppose, but I helped you with that prank. I could have warned Ron not to drink the potion. What was it, anyway?”

          “Firebrand.” Draco said. “It will make him hot, but won't hurt him.”

          “Okay.”

          “Shouldn't I be punished?” Draco asked again, pulling up off of the floor and sitting next to Harry on the bed. “I did a bad thing.”

          “Do you think you need a punishment?” Harry asked and Draco nodded. “Okay. I guess a punishment would be proper. But, only what the prank deserves. Not too harsh. Come here.”

          Harry pulled Draco closer and situated him over his lap. He adjusted the other's weight and then pulled down the pants and diaper, exposing the pale globes of Draco's ass. “I think ten should be enough. Ten, with just my hand, and no desert tonight.”

          Draco waited, silently experiencing this as he had been with each new thing they had done. Harry raised his hand and brought it down on the soft flesh, bringing the blood to the surface in a light pink hand print. Draco jumped with surprise at the first and again with each successive swat. He didn't cry out, didn't struggle or fight Harry, just stayed there and let the Chosen-one spank him until the ten swats were done. His butt burned, the pink color now covered by the padding of his diaper and the terry cloth rubbing against it. He stood next to the bed when Harry pulled him off his lap, wanting to rub, but not wanting to look more foolish than he was sure he already looked. “Stay in here, until I call you.” Harry said and the green-eyed wizard rushed from the room.

          Dinner time came and Harry sent Kreacher to get Tommy, specifying that name to the elf. Draco came to the kitchen, Gryffy under his arm as he climbed into his highchair and waited.

          “I don't want you to prank Uncle Ron anymore, or I'll tell him that you've remembered. I don't think we should do that yet, but I won't go along with any more tricks. Do you understand, Tommy?” Harry said from his chair next to Tommy. He had not looked up yet.

          “Yes, Papa. No more tricks on Uncle Ron. Are you still mad?” Draco asked.

          “No. I'm not mad. I don't want to have to punish you anymore.” Harry lifted his face and looked Draco straight in the eyes.

          “Papa?”

          “What is it?”

          “I liked the punishment. I don't think we did it right.”

          “I did, too. I think you're right.”

          “Okay.” Draco shifted in his seat. “Can I have desert?”

          “No. But, neither can I.” Harry said and Kreacher put their plates in front of them.

          “Papa? Will you feed me?”

          Harry didn't answer, but he picked up the spoon and scooped up some potatoes, holding them out for Tommy.

          Hermione was livid. She was fuming and both Harry and Ron were sitting quietly, waiting for the storm to blow over so that they could explain. The witch glared at them whenever they opened their mouths, and she was just getting warmed up. “I just don’t understand how two grown men, wizards with the kind of experiences you have had, could be so foolish. Harry, you are supposed to be responsible for that baby, and you leave a dangerous potion like firebrand lying about? And Ron, don’t get me started on how infantile it is to drink something when you don’t know what it is! Just what has gotten into you two? Where were your brains? Can you even be trusted with a child as innocent and trusting as Tommy? Do you realize how badly he could have been poisoned?”

          “Hermione . . .” Harry tried, but the woman cut him off.

          “Don’t you dare make excuses, Harry James Potter. If anything happened to him, just think about his poor mother. Narcissa would be devastated. Isn’t it enough that she has lost her son to the curse Voldemort cast on him? Would you really want to explain to her how you let him be poisoned, in your home?”

          “But, Hermione . . .” This was Ron’s turn.

          “Ronald Bilius Weasley, if you try to tell me that it turned out okay, so I shouldn’t be upset, I will hex your balls up your arse! Now, we are going to baby-proof this entire house before Tommy gets up from his nap, and you are never going to let something like this happen again, is that clear?”

          “Yes, Hermione.” The two men said in unison.

          Tommy smiled when Oliver came through the door, and called for him, even before Harry. He looked up to see a matching smile on his Papa’s face and rose to run into the older Gryffindor’s arms. “Ollie! I’m so glad you’re here. I have news for you.”

          “You do? Well, just let me give Papa a kiss and then you can tell me, okay?”

          “I guess. I wish you . . . okay.”

          Oliver put his load down, reaching for Harry who had remained on the sofa when he had come through the door. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

          “Not my news to tell. I’ll just go get you a butterbeer, okay?”

          “Thanks. Okay, so what’s the news?” Oliver asked as he pulled Tommy onto his lap. He leaned back and looked into the hazel eyes that were brimming with excitement.

          “I’m Draco.” He said and Oliver flew to his feet, dropping Tommy/Draco onto the floor on his arse. The sudden fall caused Tommy to let out a scream and begin sobbing where he sat. Harry rushed into the room and shoved a bottle into Oliver’s hand as he reached for his injured baby.

          “What happened, Tommy?” He cast the accommodation spell and lifted his charge into his arms, cuddling the still whimpering boy. “Are you hurt? What hurts?”

          “My bum. I fell on my bum.” Tommy said and Harry chuckled.

          “Well, it’s quite padded, isn’t it? You’re all right, now. Come on, let’s sit down and have a nice talk.” Harry turned to give Oliver a stern look before he settled onto the couch with Tommy by his side. “Now, Oliver. Are you going to sit, or not?”

          “Harry, he said he’s . . . “

          “What? Said he’s Tommy? Said he’s Draco? They’re both true, aren’t they? So, what’s the problem? You wanted him to get his memories back, and now he has. Is there a problem with that?”

          “No. It was just a shock, that’s all. He surprised me. I’m sorry, . . . Draco?”

          “If you can’t say it, yet, then he won’t mind if you call him Tommy. Will you, Baby?” Draco shook his head and looked at Oliver with a hesitant expression. “Say something, Ollie.”

          “Do you remember everything?”

“Not everything. I know how I found Harry, how I got out of the hospital. I know that I’ve been living here, with Harry and you, for months. I know that it was a curse, by the Dark Lord, but I don’t remember it. I . . . I remember before it, a little. I just get confused and then I feel like I want to be Tommy, some more.”

          “Okay. So, what should we do now?”

          “We’ve decided to take it slow. He only wants us to know, you and me, for now. When he’s ready, we’ll tell others. But, we’re trying to get used to things and work on how he’s going to behave. He’s still a little confused about the differences between Tommy and Draco. Does that about sum it up, Draco?”

          “Yeah. I’d like to be Tommy for a bit, now. Do you mind, Ollie?”

          “No, I guess not. What do you want to do?”

          “Can we play thestrals, like we did last time?”

          In no time, Ollie had Tommy on his back, prancing around the parlour and neighing like a horse, while the boy giggled and held on tight. Harry had cast a sticking charm to Oliver’s back and the accommodation spell assured them that the last of the Wood family would not be breaking his back by this game. By the end of the evening, Tommy was exhausted and Oliver barely got through the story he was reading as a bedtime tale before he was asleep
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Tommy, Son of a Dark Lord