Coil of the Serpent | By : ladyofarundel Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5325 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Coil of the Serpent
Author: Lady of Arundel
Email: ladyofarundel@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: TR/SS--but definitely not of the garden variety; implied SB/SS and JP/LE
Disclaimer: The characters and universe herein belong to JKRowling; the plot is my own.
Summary: A new look at Voldemort’s first rise and fall from power. What if Voldemort's crusade against the Light was driven not just by a thirst for power, but out of the desire to protect those he loved and creating a better world for everyone?
Warnings: Slash, Mpreg, underage, slight s/m, violence, and a romantic, sweet Tom Riddle, (personally, that nice Tom Riddle is the most shocking—or, well, it’s eerily comfortable to write).
Notes: I'm trying to make this story AU only in that it contains TR/SS romance and mpreg--the rest of the plot I try and conform to fit canon as closely as possible. If you're looking for the Voldemort we know and love from the books, don't worry--Tom can be just as ruthless and brutal as he can be sweet and devoted.
Archive: Certainly, just ask first.
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Late February 1980
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He awoke to gentle chimes and silken hair, soft skin wrapped in muted morning light.
For a long moment he lay there, his husband curled up against him with his head pillowed against his chest, and life consisted of naught but his beloved sleeping in his arms and the fresh scent of lilac and lemon pressed into the bedclothes. But these were perilous times, and soon the unfinished plans and work to be done and worries of the world beyond the bed curtains intruded and with great reluctance set about untangling himself from the lithe form sharing his bed. Gently he eased himself out from beneath his sleeping husband, smiling softly as the younger man sighed sleepily and nuzzled into the warmed pillows.
Beautiful, he mused, pushing errant strands of ebony out of the porcelain, angelic face of his husband. So heart-achingly beautiful.
A vision of sweet beauty and innocence that had first drawn him to the younger wizard nearly a decade ago, but it was the wit and intellect and power of the man behind that vision which had at last captured his heart. He drew the duvet up around his lover, careful to guard the delicate sleeping man against the winter chill, his hand lingering in awe along the gentle swell of his beloved’s stomach.
Their child.
This swell was his child, that was his own flesh and blood growing within the man he loved more than words or magic could ever express. He didn’t bother to fight the goofy grin the thought of his unborn son or daughter inevitably brought forth. Little over three months since his beloved had nervously broken the news—he was so beautiful when he was nervous—and each time the simple thought that he was going to be a father filled him with such joy it was like he was learning of their coming arrival for the very first time.
He showered and dressed quickly before returning to their bed, fastening the clasps of his winter cloak and drinking in the sight of his sleeping husband. With something of reverence he cautiously sat on the side of the bed, bent, and lightly kissed the swell that was his unborn child before sliding up the slight form of his husband and repeating the motion with a light brush across tender lips. He pulled away and his eyes locked with smiling, sleepy black eyes.
‘Oops,’ he whispered, grinning as he stole another kiss. ‘Didn‘t mean to wake you, sweetheart.‘
‘S all right.’ The younger wizard stretched languidly and tugged at his husband’s cloak. He acquiesced—he always did for him—and settled down for a deeper kiss, mindful of the distribution of his weight. His husband laughed into his mouth, long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.
’I’m not going to break, you know.’
’Yes, sweetheart, I know,’ dashing quick kisses across his beloved’s brow, ’I can’t help it. You’re both so precious to me, if anything ever happened— You never complain about anything, or say when you’re in pain, you give me so much and you’ve given me this,’ his hand caressing his love’s stomach, ’the greatest gift of your love for me, and if I ever were to hurt either of you, I don’t know if I—’
’Hush, sweetheart. I understand—’ He watched as his husband yawned and nestled into the covers, light lines of exhaustion apparent to his practiced eye. With a quick flick of his wand—yew and phoenix feather—he charmed the duvet to stay warm. Concerned, he lay a hand on his beloved’s forehead.
’Are you feeling alright? No morning sickness?’
’I’m fine, love, no morning sickness, I’m only tired. Stop fussing or you’ll be late.’
‘Very well.‘ He paused in contemplation as he did each morning, wishing he could share his plans for their future with his husband, but he didn‘t dare put his love and his child in that sort of danger. His beloved, nearly asleep again, didn‘t seem to notice the hesitation. ‘I fear I might be away for several days this time, Ministry business, sweetheart. Promise me you won‘t worry?‘
‘I‘ll always worry, but I promise. Honestly, I don‘t know how you can stand working with those incompetents at the Ministry, demanding such long hours...‘
He hummed in reply and kissed his husband once more, pushing aside the powerful urge to climb back into bed and spend the day holding his love and their child. Now more than ever it was vital that his work proceed according to plan, now that together he and Severus were bringing a new life into the world. The day his beautiful Severus broke the news that he was expecting, he had plunged into his work, vowing that his child would be born into a world to be proud of, a world that would be at his command. The wizarding world was on the verge of its own destruction and only he could put a stop to it. The old ways were being forgotten, ancient wisdom corrupted, magical culture diluted by muggle-loving old fools—
He broke his line of thought before he became too angry and lost control of his magic—as it still had a tendency to do in moments of fury, despite years of training; surely raw magical energy was unhealthy for the baby and his husband. Despite his protests to the contrary, Severus was rather frail, the pregnancy overly taxing on his system despite his young age of twenty-three. Which was why it was increasingly important that he not involve his husband in his plans—their plans, truly—until after the child was born and Severus was well again, and why he had to be more careful now than ever before, for if he put his husband and child in danger, no matter how inadvertently—
‘It‘s only for the time being, sweetheart. Someone must keep an eye on old Dumbledore. Sleep well, Severus. I love you. Owl me the instant anything feels wrong, alright?‘
He caressed his love‘s cheek fondly before at last taking his leave. He turned at the doorway once more—Severus was smiling, a hand protectively resting on his stomach.
‘Yes Tom, I promise. I love you, too. Hurry home to us.‘
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TBC
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