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. |
AN: There are still four(4) chapters left, so please be patient. Though this story has a lot of homoerotic images, the true depth of the theme is the evolution of the characters, their relationships and the kink. Again, there is more squicky, more kinky and some lemony/lime goodness coming.
Looks like I've had some issues.
1st: My msn e-mail, that I use for this account, got cancelled, so I had to restart it.
2nd: I posted some story ideas, hoping to get feedback on future work, but that was a no- no, so I've fixed it.
Sorry, I've been out of it for a while, and I forgot.
Bob
victoria: Welcome to my special readers, who have taken a liking to this odd tale. Though I am flattered by every response, I don't live for reviews. If I did, I would probably never finish some of my stories, from starving to death waiting. So, thank you for your praise, your comments and your acceptance. I've lived with someone who practiced the AB lifestyle, so I'm well versed in the eroticism it invokes, as well as the nurture instincts. Not all gay men are into bears or brutes or even soft effeminates. Some of us just want a family - and the laws in certain places are very limiting.That being said, don't think that this story is an accurate depiction of the world of AB, this is about magic, a curse, the aftereffects and the psychological damage caused by it.
Thanks again and enjoy, Bob.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Explaining to Weasley
Draco wore a some of his better clothes, silver/grey and perfectly pressed, other than where they bunched up while he sat, his robes were thrown over the back of the chair in a casual way that spoke of the distance he had to go before he could return to his role of pure-blood heir on a more permanent basis. His jaw was set and his eyes were hard.It had started at the Longbottom/Lovegood wedding reception and continued on long past them returning home. Harry stood near the door with Oliver, while Ron paced across the parlour, stopping once in a while to scowl or grunt. Each time, Harry wanted to rush in and interrupt, but he had been asked to keep back unless events got out of hand.
“You knew?” Ron snapped and Draco nodded regally. “You even tried to poison me, again.”
“The potion caused no lasting damage.” Draco responded with half his usual pomp.
“You've been lying the whole time, haven't you? It's all been a trick.”
“I've explained . . .”
“That was probably a lie, too!” Ron snapped and turned to storm across to the fireplace. He opened the box that Harry kept there, peeked in and turned back, glaring at the other wizard. “I'm surprised you haven't just taken it and hexed us all.”
“Don't you mean cursed?” Draco asked in a hoarse whisper. Harry twitched and Oliver's fingers tightened on his arm.
“He's thinks he can do this.” Ollie muttered and Harry let himself nod.
“You said it. I've been the trusting one, the sap, and all this time I've let my family be in danger, let Hermione get close to you . . . she could've been hurt, if not physically, then . . . you called her a mudblood.”
Draco's head moved in a slight nod, but he said nothing.
“That was years ago, Ron.” Harry snapped and the redhead turned on him.
“You knew. You let him keep on. Must've been quite a laugh, sitting there playing along while Malfoy humiliated me. And he must've been in heaven, letting me go on, listening while I said things that shoulda never been said to a . . .”
Harry surged forward, not because of the words that were about to come from his best friend's mouth, but because of what he saw happening across the room. He was in Ron's face before the hateful title came out and the red-haired man froze at his expression. “A what, Ron? Are you going to accuse him of being part of those killers? Are you going to say that seeing you being compassionate, caring and brave, like a Gryffindor, was worse than the humiliation at finding yourself dependent, docile and vulnerable in the company of people who by all rights should hate you? Can you possibly compare how you feel to how he felt, coming out of a nightmare into a waking horror?”
“Harry?” Oliver's hand touched his shoulder as Ron looked away, but it was the direction of Ollie's eyes when he looked up that made all three Gryffindor's go silent.
Ron was the first to speak. “What's he doing?”
Harry crept across the floor, kneeling in front of the chair where Draco had curled up, his thumb lodged in his mouth and his eyes squeezed shut. A dark stain told the Chosen-one that the dress pants were ruined, but he didn't care. He scooped up his baby, who had curled up in a fetal position, and with a quick lightening spell, turned away. He could hear Oliver chastising Ron in the background, but his thoughts were on Draco, or Tommy, who was silent and unresponsive in his arms.
All of the work they'd done had been dismantled in one evening and he wasn't sure how he would fix this, or if he'd be able to forgive his best friend this time.
The thought had invaded his mind and it shook him, but as he began to strip of the damaged clothes and summon something more comfortable for his charge, he realized that Draco/Tommy had become that important to him, if even his long friendship with the youngest Weasley son could crumble if he was forced to chose between them. When Draco was clean, redressed and curled up in his arms, he softly hummed a lullaby he'd heard Aunt Petunia sing when Dudley was sick. Tommy relaxed, except for the thumb in his mouth and the fingers that clung to Harry's robes.
It broke his heart to see his baby like this, withdrawn to a near infant state, and he would give anything to hear his voice, be it the snarky tones that had spouted hate back at Hogwarts or the sweet gibberish that Tommy had nattered on with in those first few days. The silence was worse than anything.
“I hope that made you happy.” Oliver said with a sneer that was becoming second nature due to his time as the Malfoy heir. “You've broken him. That was your goal, right? Abuse a man who's spent months dealing with his mental trauma and see it completely undone.”“I, I . . .” Ron sputtered.
“I was surprised by it, too. I felt a bit embarrassed, having to think about the way I had interacted with him, while he was Tommy. I got over it!” Oliver spun the other wizard to face him. “I dealt with it like a man, like a grown up. I guess we figured you wrong. Maybe you should spend some time in a nappy, Ronnikins.”
“Hey!”
“I used to chastise your brothers, for calling you that, but they had the right idea. You're still a spoiled child. You should leave.” with that, Oliver pushed Ron toward the floo and held out the can of powder. “Just go. You can explain it all to Hermione, but at least respect his privacy enough to limit it there. This may have set us back months, so a premature announcement won't be appreciated. If Harry wants, he can call you later. Get!”
Without further enticement, Ron scooped out some of the powder and tossed it into the grate. “The Burrow.” he muttered and was wisked away.
Oliver tip-toed up the stairs, standing outside of Harry's room watching his lover care for Tommy was forcing tears to well up in his eyes. He wanted to rush in, to take them both in his arms, to tell them it was going to be all right, but the lack of faith in those words held him immobile. He wasn't going to lie to the two people who meant the most to him in the world. Instead, he turned and retreated down the stairs, poured himself a strong drink and downed it in one swallow.
Harry finally got Tommy to sleep, cast the spell that converted the bed into a crib and set a nightlight to glow in the corner. He left the door ajar and set a monitoring spell to warn him if Tommy woke or had a bad dream. He descended the stairs to find Oliver on his third drink and sighed. “I'd ask for one of those, but I don't know if I have that much alcohol in the house.”“You could send Kreacher for more.” Oliver offered.
“I've got a better idea.” Harry walked to the fireplace and leaned into the grate. He grabbed powder from the jar that was used for firecalls and tossed a handful in. “Malfoy Manor.”
In minutes the face of Draco's mother was there, looking tired with a tinge of tipsy. “What can I do for you, Mr. Harry Potter?”
“I see you've been at the champagne. I was wondering if you would mind coming through. I've got some rather bad news and I think it would be better face-to-face. You should bring your husband and a few more bottles of whatever you've been drinking.”
Lucius replaced his wife and Harry jumped a bit. He was still not used to seeing the man in a bit of a rage. “Is it about Draco?” When Harry nodded, Lucius hissed, then regained his mask. “We shall arrive in a few moments. Lolly!” and his face was gone.
The Malfoys had come through, sat patiently while the two young men explained the events of the evening, then Narcissa had gone to sit with her son. Harry brought out four of the best Black Family goblets and poured them full of the bubbly liquor. He and Lucius sipped, while Oliver continued with his chosen drink, rum, on the rocks, with a splash of muggle cola, and they sat in silence. Lucius glanced toward the stairs on occasion, then finally drew himself up and spoke. “I know you've done your best for Draco . . . and this is not your fault . . . but I wonder if he might be better off, now, coming home.”
“I don't think we should make any rash decisions. We don't know the extent of the damage.” Oliver interjected. “He may wake up back to . . . Ha, I was gonna say normal. Ha ha.”
His laugh was bitter, but Harry smiled encouragingly. “He may wake up as Draco. He may be Tommy for a while longer. Until he does, we can't do much of anything.”
“But, if he were to wake in his room . . .”
“That could freak Tommy out. Remember how it was when you took him from the hospital? Lucius, he's not the Draco you remember, even when he remembers. He's like a hybrid of the two, Tommy and Draco. He can't just pop back into the son you raised him to be.”
“I want him back!”
“No,” Narcissa said from the last step, gliding into the room with elegance and ease. She took the cup from Harry, sipped once, then spoke again. “He will stay here until He decides to return. You cannot order his mental health, Lucius. You must learn patience – a virtue that has eluded you for most of your life. Harry, Oliver, thank you for telling us promptly. I shall return tomorrow, unless you have news before then. Come, Lucius, we should leave them to their duties. Good-night.” She handed Harry the half-finished drink and took Lucius by the arm.
And the couple departed with all the dignity that signified their breeding.
“Draco gets it.” Oliver mumbled and Harry turned to see him staring up the stairs. “He told me, when he went to their house. They don't want him like he is and they won't be happy until he's the Draco they remember. He said I'd have to be him forever, to keep them happy. I think she will love him no matter who he is, but she knows his dad ain't got it in him.”
That night, while Harry and Oliver slept, surrounding and guarding the infant-like Tommy, Hermione was fuming. She had sat quietly as Ron told her what happened, listened to him defending himself, rationalizing his accusations and justifying his lack of concern. She had even nodded when he theorized about a plot, a clever manipulation and just what possible outcomes there could be. Then, she quietly rose, snatched a satchel from the closet and packed a few personal items from their closet. Ron was so shocked that he failed to react in time and she was away, flooing to the Leaky Cauldron before he could stop her.She went through the magic gate and didn't stop until she had reached George's doorstep. The couple let her sleep in the spare room, where Fred had lived, without explanation. She curled up around her distended belly, cooing to her unborn child. “I won't let him hurt you, Baby. If he's that cold to Draco, then how will he be when you need him most?” and when the child within her settled to sleep, she followed into dreamland.
The next day, George and Hannah arrived with little Larry in a pram. The two men let them in and updated them on the events of the previous day. “Hermione didn't say, but Hannah had a feeling, what with the way the poor thing just sits there apologizing to her belly. I don't need to be a genius, even though I am, to figure out that she's mad at Ron about a baby and that adds up to here.” George sounded more smug than he looked so Harry frowned, but forgave him immediately when he offered to go up and check on Tommy.Oliver busied himself with tea while Harry sat with the Hufflepuff girl. Larry was nearly six months by now, and was fascinated by the toys in the parlour, and Harry watched him with a soft smile. Hannah leaned over and nudged him, getting his attention. “It's a blessing that we've had you around, to help us learn to deal with a jealous baby.” she said and Harry gawked. “We'll be having another little blessing in about seven months. Think Larry can handle it? For that matter, can we?”
“You'll be great, Hannah. You're a natural born mother.” Harry assured her and she smiled.
“Like you're a natural father, with Tommy.” she returned. “I never believed those things the other kids said, you know. Back in school, when the turned against you . . . but I was never very brave, either.”
“You were the bravest, Hannah. What you went through would have broken most girls. I've heard Susan Bones killed herself and Su Li is still in therapy. Even Pansy Parkinson, who acted so strong, spends most of her time boarded up in her parent's house, avoiding people. She's lucky to be free, but all she can think about was what happened to her at a . . .”
“Don't.” Hannah put a hand on his arm and he took it in his. “I'm . . .”
“Sorry, I forgot. I'm just so worried about him.”
“And he's suffering, too. It was a bad year, but we'll get better. I know we will.”
“Look who's awake?” George called from the stairs where he stood with a groggy Tommy on his hip. From the look on his face, there was less Draco and some residual baby in the personality that was active today. Oliver showed up with some biscuits, Tommy's favorites, and the boy took two in to share with Larry. From where he sat, Harry could keep an eye on the boys, and react if he was needed.
“So, what do we do, now?” the redhead asked and Harry shrugged.
“It's back to square one.”
“I have an idea,” a deep voice called from the door where Hermione had entered with Dr. Rheingold. “Mrs. Granger-Weasley was just explaining about the wedding and she said that the clothes he wore were not his usual.”
“No runes.” Harry and Ollie said in sinc. They could have smacked themselves when they realized their mistake.
“It's worse than that. For his reaction to be this strong to the lack of runes over one day means that we may have to consider a permanent solution.”
“I don't know . . .” Harry balked, but Oliver spoke up.
“We should let Draco decide.”
“Decide what?” said pure-blood asked from the doorway. He stood just outside of their circle and still looked a bit confused, but there was a spark of recognition in his hazel eyes.
“Draco?” Hermione lowered into the nearest chair, her knowledge of the return of memories did not alleviate her surprise at the difference in his facial expressions from both faces that she remembered. In her present condition, nearly six months along, she was easily tired, so all of the events of the past day had taken their toll.
“Auntie Mione.” Draco returned with a half-smile, half-sneer.
She chuckled and leaned back. In the meantime, Harry had taken his hand and now drew him into the room, finding him a place near Ollie so that he was flanked by his staunchest supporters. “Dr. Rheingold has talked about making the rune a tattoo. We thought it would be enough to have it on your clothes, until you reached your best level, but . . ."
“It appears that without the constant connection, you revert back to your earliest stages. The rune can only counteract the berc-lagir-rzan, and without it, the first compensates for what has happened. You will be dependent upon the rune for the rest of your life, so to avoid mishaps, like yesterday, something more permanent might be necessary.”
The doctor's explanation was met by silence, and Oliver taking Draco's free hand. “We can't make this decision for you. It's your life and your body.” he said.
Draco turned to him and his voice was flat. “But, it's not, is it?”
“It can be,” Harry injected. “That's what we want for you.”
“There is still some research to be done, so think about this. Until then, try not to neglect the use of the rune marked clothes and get some rest. I'll look into the best location for a tattoo and any additions that might be needed, but I'll need a couple of weeks to make any preparations. Mrs. Granger-Weasley, you should rest, as well. I don't like the look of you.”
Dr. Rheingold let himself out, and the room was left with an air of sodden gloom, so George took Hermione and Hannah up to the unused rooms on the third floor, hoping to find one where they could nap. When he left them, the two spent some time conversing about Hermione's future plans and what the couple had planned for the apartment above the shop.
“We've decided to buy a house, so you could stay there, if you want. The nursery is already set up, and there are spells set on all of the appliances. Plus, we'll be by to visit, every day. Especially George, since he'll be there to open the shop. You can take your time about deciding what to do.”
“I feel like such a fool. How could I overlook so much about him?”
“You love him, Mione. Love is blind, remember? I should know. I used to think Fred and George were gangly idiots. Now, look at me. I'm smitten. I can only see how perfect, smart and creative he is. Not to mention how much he loves Larry. I'm looking forward to this baby, just to see how he handles two.”
“Or if it's a girl, huh? Just picture George Weasley with a little princess in lace and ruffles.” The two girls giggled until they both lay back, so tired they could barely move. They slept for two hours, while the men downstairs talked and played with the two cutest little boys.
Draco was exhausted by the flip-flop of his mental focus. He participated in the conversation for about twenty minutes, then leaned on Oliver's shoulder, followed by his legs being thrown over the other's lap and soon he was cuddled up on Ollie's lap, thumb in his mouth, having his one arm rubbed while Oliver spoke in soft tones.Harry and George went into the parlour and while George spoke in hushed tones, Harry helped to change little Larry, realizing that he had become quite proficient at the task, and he would offer Hermione all the help she needed, if things remained pear-shaped in her marriage.
“Do you want to go play with your toys?” Oliver asked as he stroked Draco's arm and listened to the soft breathing of the boy on his lap. It wasn't hard to transition, as long as there were blatant clues as to whether was dealing with Tommy or Draco, so he just went with it.
“I think I do. I think I may need to . . .”
“How about some lunch? I could get Kreacher to make soup and sandwiches.”
“And milk?” Draco asked.
“Sure. Do you want it in a cup?”
“A bottle.”
“You go play with Larry and George, I'll get your food.”
And with a pat on his behind, Draco rose and went into the parlour, where the two men looked up and watched him drop amidst the scattered toys and pull his cauldron and toy flame toward himself. George smiled and picked up his son, settling him nearby as he found a place across from Draco, where he started arranging the toy vials and bottles. Harry sat against the divan, watching the group.
“What shall we make today, Tommy?”
“Vanishing cream.” was his answer, but Tommy was just getting started. “Wanna make Unco Won disappear for ten days.”
“I'll go along with that. What do you say, Larry?”
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo