Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: 15 years ago, they sealed him away never to see the light again. Now that his innocence has been proven, they want him back, but what they find is a broken man. Will they manage to get over the secrets and get his trust back after all the pain?
Warnings: Post-War setting. Heavy AU, heavy OOC, several OCs, mention of MPreg, mention of rape, mention of child abuse, mention of violence, slash, light lemon, light Weasley/Hermione bashing.
A/N: If anyone has seen the Korean Drama Warrior Baek Dong Soo, Harry's clothes are Yeo Un's in Assassin Garb.
"I was very careful, for the whole duration of our marriage, to conceal the proofs of my relatives' treatment. My husbands had no great esteem for me from the beginning. I do not believe they would have appreciated finding such a testimony of weakness on my part on my body. Especially coming from a muggle, whom I am supposed, as a wizard, to be superior to.
Despite Marvolo's youth at the orphanage, I think he would not have understood the desperate need for Hogwarts I felt at the time. Because Hogwarts was my last chance, and even if he loved it dearly and cherished every opportunity he had to get out of the orphanage and far from the kids who called him a freak, he at least had the advantage of terror over the other children.
I, however, had nothing to defend against the Dursleys, as they knew I was unable to retaliate."
He told them about the Prophecy, that fateful Halloween night, the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, and what he knew of his life up until seventh year. The war had come to a standstill by that time, and a compromise had been reached the year he turned twenty. The Dark Lord would cease all hostilities, and become Minister of Magic, his men would be pardoned except for the ones who had committed most grievous offenses. And he would be given Harry Potter.
The official reason was that the boy was unstable, as proven by the events in fifth year, and prone to revenge since most if not all of his loved ones had been killed by the Dark Lord or his troops, and so, he was very likely to start a rebellion and disrupt the Treaty, thus endangering the hard-gained peace. However, handing him over as a prisoner just wouldn't do, and would stand out amidst the general celebrating atmosphere. No, they needed to make it a joyful event. And so it was decided he would be married to the Dark Lord.
Voldemort, however, had no intention whatsoever to leave Lucius for the Potter brat, whom he hadn't seen for years, except on the battlefield. And so a Triad formed. They had been stunned, they recalled, when the boy -no, man, had appeared for the ceremony. As opposed to what they had expected, he looked calm, as if all of this had been his idea, and this was your average bonding ceremony, when they knew it wasn't. The boy, they knew for certain, had never been asked for his opinion on this, and the contract had been signed without him even knowing. And yet, they remembered, he had stood there and pronounced his vows with a clear voice, never wavering, never failing to look devoted.
But they had seen the coldness, the blankness in his eyes, dark, bottomless pits of nothingness. They hadn't known what had made him like that, but they had been shocked to the core, even though at the time, they still thought he was a spoiled brat, a naive Gryffindor. They had decided to keep a close eye on him beforehand so as to avoid a scandal if he said anything about being forced into this union or tried to run, but there had been no need. The man had displayed a surprising set of Pureblood manners as he went from guest to guest with a smile and a remarkable mask of pleasantness and joy. He spoke of his relief that the war was over, and that he had been a major contributor to that fact, that he was glad that his personal life had such an influence on the well-being of wizarding society and so on.
And when they had been left alone, he had quietly followed them, and let them disrobe him, then take him. They had been surprised at his lack of resistance. Aroused by the sight of his naked body sprawled over the covers. Confused when he had just laid there, waiting. Angered when they had realized this wasn't his first time. He had let them take him.
It was only now that they realized every insult they had thrown his way for not being a virgin had darkened his eyes a little more every time.
Their marriage, though not a happy one, had never been unhappy either. Harry knew his place, and rarely slept with them, or spoke to them. He left them alone, knowing better than to think he had any place in their hearts or relationship. He was only included and allowed to spend the night with them when they wanted him, meaning when they wanted to take him. They vaguely noticed, by seeing them together, that he had formed a friendship with Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, whom he was often with. However, they cared very little, and just went on with their duties.
They noticed he was pregnant when he failed to show up for a meal and, furious, they went in search of him, only to find him passed out in one of the hallways leading to the dining room. He had evidently fainted on his way to dinner. And so Acastus had been born. They had been somewhat gentler to him during the pregnancy, because enemy or not, the man was carrying their child, and it was the first heir of the Dark Lord. For that, he deserved respect, along with his reserved, dignified attitude. Harry hadn't caused any trouble. He knew when and how to make himself scarce, meaning pretty much all the time.
Acastus' birth hadn't gone very well, though. The young man had suffered horribly, and they could remember how the nurse holding his hand had grimaced and had to numb the hand he was holding as he struggled not to scream. They had instructed him that showing weakness was not something they would tolerate, and so he pushed himself to the limit to please them. It was at that time that they had realized exactly how devoted he was to them. And then, slowly, they had started seeing him as something else. Something different.
Paradoxically enough, at the same time they started to respect him more and treat him better, they barely allowed him to see his son, named him themselves, and took the child away to be raised as a proper Slytherin heir. And so the light which had lit in the emerald eyes after so long died down almost immediately when they took his baby away.
How foolish they were to think he would understand or not care, and that their change in attitudes would make up for it! He had asked and asked again to see his son, to raise him, promising to raise him in a way befitting of a Pureblood heir, and they had refused, again and again, until, one day, Voldemort had snapped that he would never again be allowed to see him because his stupid, ignorant, naïve and foolhardy Gryffindor persona would inevitably taint the child.
Marvolo closed his eyes as he remembered the way the younger man's features had closed off, and how all progress they had made with him had been crushed with only those few words. Harry had left the room and disappeared for days.
They had been worried out of their wits when he had come back, perfectly fine but looking emotionally dead. He had only taken the required minimum of meals with them after that, vanishing who knew where all day and barely talking anymore. He had successfully avoided them for two whole years, before they had started to realize they truly missed him. And by the time they had come to terms with their feelings, the jealousy they felt whenever they saw him smiling softly at Draco's antics or immersed in a serious conversation with Severus, the longing they felt to rediscover the delicate body they had not seen for months on end, the quickening of their heartbeat when he was close, six more months had gone by.
And so they had started on the process of seducing him.
It had worked. It had been long and tedious. The man, after all, had years of experience in the field of distrust, and years of unhappy marriage and disdain on their part to go on, and so first thought it was all a ploy to somehow trick him into loving them to break him better afterward. And so it had been five long years before they had slept together again. They had wanted to have him willingly, and for that they couldn't force him to do anything. And so, eight years after their marriage and Acastus' birth, he had given himself to them again. Eleven months later, he was giving birth to the twins, Eden and Thanatos. And though he was allowed to see them this time, the two men often contradicted him with their education, and so he quickly lost any authority he might have had with them.
And then things had started going downhill. Because Harry had started disappearing again, and, as they had overheard a group of witches discussing Harry Potter at the Ministry, pitying the poor lad for the terrible fate he had to endure, and how he could bear it. And one had said that he must have lovers somewhere, because there were people out there who knew his true worth, and were willing to pay a fortune only to see his naked body.
They hadn't wanted to let it get to them at first. But, slowly, the idea had made its way into their heads and hearts until they could only look at him with suspicion in their eyes, picking up on anything and everything they could to criticize him, saying cruel things and scorning him despite the obvious hurt it put him through. Things had calmed down a little when they had discovered he was pregnant again, from a night of furious lovemaking -fucking would have been a more exact word after an argument. This time, as with Acastus, they had found out by accident, when Harry had cried out in pain when he had been jabbed in the stomach. They had then realized how they had regressed.
When he had been pregnant with the twins, the young man had been glad to tell them. But seeing that he once again felt so unwanted and secluded that he wouldn't tell them until he was over three months along had been like a cold shower, especially considering the fact that they had kept having sex with him when he said he didn't want to, and their rough sessions could have been dangerous for the baby. They had dotted on him.
Until the day when they had found him sprawled naked in his rooms, as a random Death Eater thrust into him. They hadn't cared that his cheeks had been stained with tears, his thighs streaked with blood, a testimony of the brutality of the act, or that he had bruises everywhere, a sure proof of the struggle he had put up. They had completely overlooked the fact that he had been under a special kind of binding charm which left the body pliable even though the bound wizard couldn't move. To them, it had been the confirmation of the rumors. Harry Potter, their husband, was a cheating whore.
And so, once he had given birth to their fourth child, they took the baby away, hauled the man up and dragged his exhausted, bloody body into the deserted rooms of the Secluded Wing, thrown him there and sealed him up in there with nothing more than the thin nightgown on his back. He would only be allowed the barest necessities and no contact with the outer world.
Draco had left soon after, and Severus had never been the same. He had become quieter, more reserved, and barely spoke to anyone without snapping anymore. Only Draco could speak to him without getting yelled at. And so the years had gone by with the children growing up and Harry withering away in a dark set of rooms.
Of the scars they knew nothing. They hadn't even known there were any. Only Harry had the answers, and they knew there weren't about to get him to talk to them, much less about this sensitive part of his past.
"It was ridiculously easy, really. A mere confusion charm weaved with a glamour spell, and all they felt when they touched me was the smooth skin their eyes saw. They never suspected anything. That, I am afraid, was my greatest victory and my greatest mistake."
They watched him as he left the table after lunch, knowing they wouldn't see him until dinner. They now knew he didn't go out to meet up with his lovers. What they wanted to find out was what he was doing while he was gone, but like his past, he would never tell them. And so they just watched and waited as they did all they could to get closer to him.
Lucius could touch him now, not as much as Adair or Acastus, but he was allowed to hold his hand or kiss his forehead or tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. The Dark Lord had yet to talk to him, for some reason, and the blonde reckoned it had to do with the fact that they had always shared a very strong bond, be it of hatred or love, and it made it that much more difficult to speak all of his feelings. And so he waited, mulling over his emotions, clearing his thoughts, biding his time. He wanted the talk they would have to be unique, and to clear all misunderstandings, to lay new bases for their relationship. He wanted them to start over. And if that was to ever happen, he needed to say everything in one go, and not forget anything.
And he knew Harry was aware of that.
Because that was how he was: he always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to them. Maybe that was the reason why he didn't flinch as much when Voldemort came close to him, and allowed him to touch him time and again.
"Marvolo, maybe because of his harsh childhood, was someone who felt incredible reluctance at the mere thought of confiding into someone, because that meant actually trusting an outer person with your weaknesses. Though Lucius had gradually earned that trust, I never did, as he was wary of me, having considered me his enemy for years on end, second only to Dumbledore.
I can see the conflict in his eyes every time he looks at me, and the reason is clear to me. He wants to talk to me, explain his actions, though I think I understand his fear. He knows I cannot forgive me truly until he speaks. But I will give him time the time he needs.
All the time he needs. I have waited fifteen years. I can wait a little longer."
"We're going to Diagon Alley. Do you want to come?"
Dark emerald eyes gazed up at Voldemort's face. Harry seemed to think about it, then nodded slowly. The Dark Lord nodded back and started to step back so as to leave him his space, but froze as a delicate hand rose expectantly in the air. Shocked, he glanced at the delicate features of his husband, and saw him staring at him, waiting. Slowly, almost timidly, he reached out, and felt his breath catch in his throat as their fingers touched. Harry's skin was as smooth and soft as he remembered it to be, and he delicately enclosed the thin hand in his palm before pulling the smaller man up on his feet. The motion somewhat unbalanced the green-eyed man, and he fell forward, only to be held against a strong chest. Toned arms wrapped around his waist to steady him, and they stayed like that for a moment, neither willing to move, their breaths the only sound in the room.
Harry let his forehead fall forward and rest against his husband's chest, right above his heart.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
He closed his eyes. The rhythm was soothing, the arms, comforting. He knew that the Dark Lord had grown up unloved, and had trouble expressing his feelings. He also knew that the man would eventually talk to him and express the regret he could see in his eyes each and every time he looked at him. And already, he knew, he had forgiven him. Because love was unconditional, blind and stupid, and because he was an idiotic Gryffindor, and because he could understand the fear of being rejected, cheated on and unwanted. He just needed to hear it.
"Are you... oh."
He didn't open his eyes, could feel Voldemort look up and hear Lucius step closer. Gentle hands fluttered across his shoulders.
"Take your time." The blonde murmured.
They stayed like that for a long time, before Harry moved away. Marvolo cupped his face gently between his palms, and brushed aside a few stray hair, rubbing gentle circles on the pale cheeks with his thumbs.
"Let's go." He said, smiling gently, holding out his hand.
Harry took it.
"Diagon Alley. Today is my grand return to the wizarding world. I will buy a new wand, step into the light, and everyone will be able to see me.
I cannot say I am nervous, for nervous I am not. I lost the ability to afford such emotions ages ago, and it would be detrimental to everything I am to let myself be thrown off balance by the mere thought of being seen in public.
None of them would dare do anything with my husbands there. None of them could do anything anyway. I am no defenseless wreck. I am a Potter, a Black, a Peverell. A Slytherin and a Malfoy, maybe, though I have yet to be sure of that, as my feelings concerning my husbands are still unclear.
Diagon Alley will be a turning point to this strange chain of events I am living.
Diagon Alley will either be the beginning or the end.
What of, I have no idea whatsoever."
Diagon Alley was crowded as usual. Harry, however, didn't look disturbed in the least, and navigated his way without any trouble, until he stopped in front of Ollivander's. They followed him as he went into the shop, the bell ringing as they did. They stood in the dark shop, waiting for the old man to show himself, and the youngest children couldn't help a badly-concealed start as he finally decided to appear. Harry didn't move an inch.
Pale blue eyes narrowed in on him, and widened with awe.
"Lord Potter-Black..." The man whispered. "After all these years... I admit I didn't think I would ever see you again... You need a new wand, do you not? Yes, yes, I remember... It sounds like it was only yesterday when you bought your first wand... Changed quite a lot ever since, haven't you? Let's see..."
Wand after wand passed between Harry's hands, and it always ended in a disaster or another. Eventually, the young man stopped and looked pointedly at the wandmaker, who looked utterly puzzled.
"Curious, very curious. Maybe..." He looked up and into the emerald green eyes, snorting at himself when he noticed the amusement dancing there. "Of course you are right, Lord Potter-Black, how silly of me... Please proceed."
They all looked at him like he was stark raving mad, even as Harry closed his eyes and his breathing evened out. An hour later, they were leaving with a custom-made wand. Eleven and a half inches, red oak, phoenix tears and basilisk venom.
"Come back any time, Lord Potter-Black. I would love to have a nice chat with you. Someone so special..."
Harry merely shook his head with an amused twitch of the lips, and then left the shop. His four children and two husbands could only wonder what the old man had meant by that. They then strolled down the Alley, allowing the kids to look at whatever caught their eye, until they came to a stop at Quality Quidditch Supplies, where the twins immediately started browsing the newest brooms and Quidditch accessories.
"Lord Potter-Black! It's been such a long time since I last saw you! How do you do?"
The man smiled politely as he shook the shopkeeper's hand, before opening his mouth... and speaking. But both Lucius and Voldemort knew it was a spell when the first word came out: the voice was off. It wasn't Harry's.
"Fine, thank you, and yourself?"
The man beamed, obviously delighted to have such a celebrity being interested by his life.
"Very good. My kids have grown up, of course. They've gone into Professional Quidditch, maybe you will see them at a game one day."
Harry smiled politely again.
"I see you have a lot of new models."
"Indeed. Do you want to see them? I am afraid the Firebolt has been outdated for quite some time now."
The emerald-eyed wizard nodded.
"Yes, well, I am sorry to say that it was destroyed in an unfortunate accident." Lucius and Voldemort both cringed at the thought that they had been the ones to burn it. "Show me what you have."
"Of course, Lord Potter-Black. So, here is our newborn, the Nimbus 4000, it has great flexibility and speed, a great broom for a Seeker as yourself, however, I would recommend the Firebolt X, even swifter, and very light. There are lots of stabilizing charms on it, and..."
And so it went. Harry stayed there for over an hour, and they watched him converse with the shopkeeper curiously, wondering about several very precise terms he used. To the kids, it looked like their father had the ability of a professional at Quidditch, though they had never seen him fly, but if the broom-seller's enthusiasm was anything to go by, they had to watch him on a broom sometime. Eventually, the young man chose the Firebolt, much to the little man's delight.
"An excellent choice, Lord Potter-Black! It will serve you well, you'll see! I'm glad to know that you of all people will ride that broom, it's very costly, and very few people can afford it, though of course there are several truly talented people out there. Not as much as yourself, of course, someone has yet to break your record, but still..."
Record? The twins perked up at that.
"Viktor Krum, for example. I heard he had bought one of those. He came by last year, right after the Quidditch World Cup, asked after you."
"Yes, yes, indeed. He said you still hadn't had that one-on-one match you had planned on. But of course, with the events..."
The man's smile slipped as Harry tensed up, then gave a tight-lipped smile as the broom was finally entirely wrapped.
"Thank you. Have a nice day." The spell said, before he turned around and swept out of the shop. They followed him quickly.
"So, you play Quidditch?" Thanatos asked, interrupting his sister, who glared at him.
"You can speak? Why not do it before?" Eden said a little aggressively. "Did you think it'd be fun to have us interpret the smallest of your expressions?"
The man merely pinned her down with a long, silent stare until she started to fidget, and rose an eyebrow.
"What!" She finally spat.
His lips parted, but right as he was about to mouth something, another voice rang out.
"Potter! Harry Potter!"
His eyes slid shut and he inhaled deeply as all activity ceased in the Alley, and people turned to them with wide eyes and pointed fingers.
"Mom! It's really him!"
"It's Harry Potter!"
"Harry Potter. A name I found out was mine at six years of age, when the school teacher read it when calling roll. How glad I was when I discovered my name was not, as opposed to what I had believed for years, Freak! It was my identity, the name my parents had given me upon my coming to life. It was a legacy, a blessing by my parents.
How I would come to hate it in the following years!
Harry Potter never came without the too many titles which seemed to be stuck to it like parasites. The Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, The Prophesized Child, The Savior of the Wizarding World, The Beacon of Light, The Gryffindor Golden Boy, and so on. I could never be rid of it.
Somewhere along the way, Harry Potter became a curse."
Turning around, he came face to face with several people he didn't think he would ever see again. He tensed.
"Hello, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Molly." The spell said.
The three red-heads and the bushy-haired witch looked him over, then glanced at the two men and four younger people standing behind him.
"It's Mrs Weasley to you." Hermione sniffed snootily.
He rose an eyebrow.
"Then it's Lord Slytherin to you. I do believe I married quite some time ago."
"Yeah," the tall red-head spat, "to the King of Snakes himself."
Lucius stepped forward, silver eyes darkened to the color of a raging thunderstorm.
"You would do well, Mr Weasley, to remember your place. You are, after all, speaking to your betters."
"He sure is a better whore than I am." Ron muttered, low enough that the onlookers wouldn't hear, but Harry, Lucius, Voldemort and their children could, along with Hermione, Ginny and Molly. Lucius made a move to grab his wand, but a firm hand on his arm stopped him, and he just stood stiffly. Behind him, Acastus and his siblings, who had had the same reflex, stood at the ready. Harry turned back to the Weasleys.
"If that was all you had to say, Weasley, I think we better part right now before the situations gets out of control."
"Of course, Harry," Ginny simpered, "after all, you always had such a talent for running away..."
The grip on Lucius' arm tightened to the point where he had to struggle to hold back a grimace of pain, and Harry seemed to noticed, because he let go a little, with a brief glance of apology.
"There are a lot of Nargles in your hair, Weasleys..." A dreamy voice said suddenly, and from the crowd a blonde female appeared. "I think you should go and wash them away before they come into your brain through your ears and the Great Snarkelhurt decides eliminating you is the best way to stop them from contaminating people."
"Yes, Weasleys, go and put your filth somewhere else, will you? Your smell is giving me a bad case of nausea." A familiar voice drawled, and Harry's eyes snapped over to the blonde female's side, where another familiar figure had just stopped.
"You'll regret this Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed, his ears clashing horribly with his hair as he turned a nice shade of puce at hearing the crowd laugh at him.
The four then turned tail and disappeared into the Leaky Cauldron. Icy grey eyes turned to the onlookers.
"What are you looking at?" He snapped.
Immediately, they started scurrying away, until suddenly, one stopped and turned. Looking directly at Harry, he inhaled deeply and then opened his mouth.
"Harry Potter! Thank you!"
And he bowed deeply. People stopped and turned around.
"Harry Potter! Thank you!"
And then, they all simultaneously dipped into a very low bow, one of gratitude and thankfulness, the expression of over a decade of peace thanks, again, to this single man, who had given away his future to save them all from a raging war and most certain destruction. When they finally looked up, they felt their breath catch in their throat, for there was a small smile dancing on the delicate man's lips, softening his features, and making it even more beautiful than it usually was. It was breathtaking. He inclined his head to them in silent acknowledgment of their gratitude, and they then went back to their shopping.
Only the two blondes hadn't moved.
Eden spotted the resemblance immediately. It was hard not to. The man, after all, had hair the exact same shade as hers, and eyes the same color as her twin and blonde father, though a shade darker. He had impeccable posture, and his drawl was typical of Malfoys. The blonde on his arms was very beautiful in an ethereal way. Her hair was a very pale shade of blonde which looked almost silver -a shade eerily reminiscent of the moonlight- and undulated gently down to her waist, framing a small, dreamy face with pale skin and clear blue eyes.
They watched the shoppers go back to their life then turned to them.
"My Lord, Father." The man said curtly, while the female smiled dreamily and curtsied mutely.
The children could only share startled glances. So this was Draco. Acastus was the only one who had ever seen him, and he had been too small at the time to really remember him, since it had been fifteen years since he had last seen him. According to their fathers, this man had been loyal to Harry, one of his only friends, and had left when they had refused to listen to his protests at the sentence.
The two looked at Harry, and they all just stared at each other silently, before the blondes stepped closer, their eyes inspecting the dark-haired man standing before them. He bore the examination without protest, looking back unblinkingly. Eventually, a slow smirk stretched the man's -their half-brother's thin lips. They would never forget what he said, as it startled them to no end.
"So, Scarhead, finally out, huh?"
"Sod off, Malfoy." Harry replied.
Looking up, they thought he would be upset, but instead... He was smiling.
A true, genuine smile, full of amusement, fondness and real affection, and they couldn't help the strange, almost elated feeling that bubbled in their chests at the sight, because it was something they had never seen, and for once, the man looked deeply happy.
"Air and Earth have finally come to their senses and realized they couldn't live without Fire. But beware of the water, it's getting more and more agitated. Steel will be needed, and with it the Poison Shadow."
Harry stiffened at that and his gaze sharpened, but he said nothing, and ignored Draco's subsequent glance.
"Does anyone have more shopping to do?"
They all shook their heads, and so they decided to go back, as a girl of about fifteen came running to them.
"Father! Mother! I found it, look!"
She was proudly showing them a book, and Luna smiled, right as the girl looked at them, and froze as she reached Harry.
"You're Harry, my godfather! I've heard a lot about you! It's nice to meet you." She exclaimed lively.
"I have a goddaughter?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Yes you do. Scarhead, meet Elladora Isla Malfoy, my daughter." Draco introduced ceremoniously. "Elladora, this is Harry Potter-Black, your godfather."
Seconds ticked by as she examined him and he looked back at her, before she finally smiled and extended her hand.
"Nice to meet you. Call me Isla, it's shorter."
"My pleasure." He said as he gracefully bowed to brush his lips over her knuckles. She blushed at the gesture, and Draco swatted at Harry's head. The man glared.
"What was that for?"
"No seducing my daughter, you evil pedophile."
Harry looked nauseous.
"That's wrong on so many levels..." He muttered, hiding his eyes with delicate fingers. "Bad, bad images."
Draco snickered, Isla flushed even deeper, and Luna looked on peacefully.
"He's so... different."
Voldemort glanced down at his daughter and her twin, who was nodding in approval, though not looking away from the fireplace in front of which Harry, Draco and Luna had sat and were now immersed in a deep conversation, their heads bent close together.
"Yes. Luna was the only Light witch to stand by him when the Treaty was signed and was bonded to us. She's his oldest friend."
The door opened on Severus, who nodded at them and went over to the talking group, who looked up and scooted over to allow him to sit with them. And so the conversation resumed. And the Dark Lord, as he held tightly on the hand of his husband, couldn't help but feel left out and jealous.
Isla Malfoy, Thanatos decided, was charming. She was as sharp-tongue as his fathers, extremely intelligent, and ethereal also, as if she were there but not, seeing things others could not, and having a foot in this world and the other in another dimension. It was strange. It was endearing. And for once, he found himself enjoying the company of a female who wasn't his twin sister.
He glanced at Eden, smiling when he saw her obviously enjoying herself, and then up at their parents. Voldemort and Lucius were looking at Harry and his friends, and the longing in their eyes was quite obvious, but they let it be and stayed out of it, allowing the friends their time alone to reconnect after years of separation. Harry was obviously happy, if the air of calm and serenity around him was anything to go by, and the two men didn't want to displease him. They knew he needed his friends just as much as them, and so they stayed put.
"I felt truly alive. For the first time in fifteen years, I really felt... happy. Seeing Draco, Severus and Luna gathered like that, being able to talk to them by the fireplace as we used to... It almost reminded me of the long winter nights at Hogwarts, in the Room of Requirement, though Draco and Severus had yet to befriend me at the time. I had missed them. A lot.
They were, are very important to me, because I know that their loyalty to me goes beyond anything else. As of the day we became friends, they were always there for me, and never betrayed me. They knew me better than anyone else, better than Ron and Hermione, better than Marvolo and Lucius, who thought of me as a whore even after ten years of friendship, and believed that I had cheated on them despite having been married for ten years.
I would never.
Draco, Severus and Luna believed in me, and I trust them.
The bond we share is unbreakable, and I am grateful to my husbands for not preventing our reunion."
Harry had disappeared again.
Voldemort sighed exasperatedly as he stood from his desk. This constant disappearing act was what had precipitated their decision fifteen years ago, and yet, he did it again as soon as he was free again. He walked over to the liquor cabinet and was about to pour himself a glass of brandy when his office door slammed open, revealing a disheveled Lucius.
"Marvolo! The wards! The kids! Attack!"
The fine crystal shattered as it made contact with the floor, but neither of them noticed, as they were already out the door and running. They found the children in the garden. Acastus and the twins were firing curse after curse at the masked wizards and witches attacking them, and Adair and Isla, though the others had told them to go and take shelter, helped as much as they could. Whipping out his wand, Voldemort shot a Killing Curse, and didn't linger on the corpse as several enemies were already charging at him and Lucius. The two shared a glance and then dove into the battle head first.
Minutes ticked by as they fought, but their efforts to keep an eye on the children at all times hindered the two wizards, and they cursed their luck, as it was now completely impossible for the kids to retreat into the manor. There were too many attackers, and some of them would be able to follow them, corner them and do whatever they wanted with them. A flash of blonde on Marvolo's left informed him that Lucius was nearby, and he took his chance, got closer.
"We need to regroup."
The Malfoy Lord nodded curtly, not taking his eyes off his opponents, and, slowly, they started to retreat toward the children, who had gathered in a circle, back to back so as to guard each other. Acastus was doing impressive spellwork, shooting dark curses and causing a lot of damage, though the twins weren't far behind, as their combined spells were a true nightmare to anyone who had ever experienced them. They were a menace. Adair and Isla covered each other and fought side by side, smartly exploiting what they had been taught, and overall defended themselves quite well. They were starting to tire, though, and couldn't see the disillusioned wizards creeping towards them.
One of them was now aiming his wand, and Lucius yelled out a warning, only to cry out in pain as a cutting curse hit his side, which infuriated and broke Marvolo's concentration at the same time. Torn between his children and husband, the man froze on the spot, trying to resolve the conflict. Enemies were closing in on them from all sides, already shouting in triumph and disgusting gloating. A few feet away, the children were surrounded. There was no way they would all come out of this alive, no way the adults could reach the kids in time, the Dark Lord realized. Never had he cursed his decision to close the manor to his Death Eaters on the week-end so he could spend private time with his family more than in that moment.
"No!" Lucius yelled through his pain.
"Goodbye, Dark Wizard Spawn!" The masked wizard cackled hatefully, eyes glinting malevolently through the holes of his mask. "Goodbye! See you in Hell!"
The green light rushed towards Adair, who couldn't help but stare at it with wide eyes, completely frozen in utter terror. Acastus shouted, tried to reach him, pull him out of the way...
It was too late.
The curse struck, exploded, vanished, cut down by a gloved palm.
And suddenly, he was there.
"The day I received them was one of the best days of my life. It was a great achievement to me, the proof of my ability, and the testimony of my Mastery. I was now an official member of the Guild, someone to respect for a reason. Harry Potter was famous because of a feat of magic he couldn't even remember or control, and was in fact, most likely, due to his mother's extensive knowledge of ancient protection charms.
The blades, however, symbolized the person whose name had been engraved in Japanese symbols in the dark metal.
Neah had called me the Poison Shadow. Because my eyes were poisonous green, and because when I moved, nothing and nobody could differentiate my body from the shadows I wrapped myself in.
Neah rose the Poison Shadow from nothingness.
Harry Potter had died long ago by then."
Except for the long blue ribbon crisscrossing on his forearms to keep his sleeves firmly against his skin, the man was clothed entirely in black. Black combat boots, black combat pants, black shirt, black sleeveless tunic held at the waist by a wide belt and flaring out gently down to his knees. He had too short blades, one strapped horizontally right above his belt, the other diagonally, so that the handle stuck over his shoulder. Silky black hair fell to the middle of his back, held back by a piece of blue ribbon the same shade as the one he had on his arms. The lower part of his face was carefully concealed by a black piece of cloth.
The Light wizards stared in obvious confusion.
"Who the hell are you?" The one who had shot the Killing Curse at Adair yelled.
"Someone who doesn't caution killing children." His voice was raspy, as if he hadn't used it in a long time, or wasn't used to speaking a lot. "I suggest you leave now."
The crowd of enemies rippled at that.
"Never! We're about to fell them! The Light will triumph and Potter will be free!"
The enemies cheered, but shut up immediately when a strange, raucous sound echoed, and they realized the man was laughing.
"As if you cared about him. Weren't you the ones who married him off to his greatest enemies without any regard to the way you were depriving him of any chance at a future? Weren't you the ones who turned on him every chance you got? Weren't you... Weasley?"
The mask of the one who had shot the Killing Curse was ripped away, revealing the sallow face of Ron Weasley.
"Of course not! He just kept pushing me away!" The red-head tried to bluff his way out of it, but it obviously didn't work, as the newcomer just laughed some more.
"Some cheek you have here, Weasley. But it won't save you today." He shook his head, reaching for his blades. "Oh, no. Today, all of you child-killers shall die by my hand."
"Kill him!" Ron yelled as he realized what was going to happen.
But it was too late. The man had unsheathed his blades, and suddenly, he wasn't there anymore, and Weasley was lying on the ground, blood soaking the grass from the gaping wound at his throat. Voldemort and Lucius were already moving again, and making their way over to the children, whom they stood before as an unbreakable wall, felling anyone who would dare try and harm their flesh and blood, along with Isla.
The blonde man was getting weaker, though, as his side wound kept bleeding, and the loss of the precious life liquid was proving very taxing. Already, he could feel himself getting dizzy and light-headed, and his vision was getting blurrier. A commotion spell at his feet unbalanced him and he fell to his knees, sweat glistening on his face with the effort to keep from fainting, and the pain of the injury.
He gradually became aware of Marvolo's urgent voice and of the hand shaking his shoulder, and looked up and at his husband, only to realize the man had been hurt too, though it was a shallow wound.
"I'm alright." The Dark Lord said as he saw his glance. "You, however, need to get behind me with the kids."
The blonde shook his hair, grimacing as he did so. His hair was matted with blood and sweat, and was having trouble breathing.
He was cut off as the Assassin, for that was the only thing he could be, reappeared before them, diverting several potentially lethal curses and spells from them, and fell into an elegant battle stance. His clothes were soaked in blood, his hair and hands too, and his blades dripped with red, but he seemed to be well.
"Stay here." He said. "It'll be over soon." He then suddenly stiffened as they felt a wave of magic wash over them. "You are injured. Can you hold on a little longer?"
Lucius nodded shakily.
"I've had worse."
Still back to them, the man nodded.
They watched in utter amazement as the Assassin fended off the attack, crushed the Killing Curse and retaliated, killing the rebels effortlessly, dancing around the spells, evading the attacks, ducking and jumping and somersaulting and cutting through flesh as if it were mere butter. The twins in particular could only think one word.
And then, just like that, the battle was over, and the was wiping his blades clean and sheathing them. Slowly, very slowly, he turned towards them... Only to widen his eyes in horror. He froze for the split of a second, and then moved, faster than he ever had in his whole life.
Blood splattered on the ground, and Eden couldn't help the scream that tore out of her throat as her new hero took the dagger in her stead, and the six and half inches of steel bit into the flesh of his chest. He swayed, stumbled, but nevertheless kept standing, and rose a hand.
The rebel fell, a shuriken buried in his throat.
The Assassin struggled to stay on his feet, jerked when Eden suddenly appeared in his face, along with the rest of the family and Isla.
"Are you mad? Why did you do that? We have to-" She trailed off. The man had looked up, and she found her eyes widening as she recognized the peculiar color of the orbs looking into hers.
"No..." She whispered at the same time her fathers pushed her aside, and tore off the black cloth obscuring his face.
Voldemort cupped Harry's delicate face between his palms almost desperately, gazing into those emerald orbs with the terrible feeling that the man was already slipping away. Blood was dripping down his chin, a stark contrast with the increasing paleness of his skin, and he tightened his grip on his Third's face as he smiled tiredly.
"I'm glad you're alright." He wheezed.
"You big idiot. Why did you do that?" Marvolo whispered gently.
Harry let his eyes slide shut for a brief moment.
"She's my daughter, you know. I..." he coughed "I can't let her die."
He coughed again, spat out a mouthful of blood.
"You need to be tended to." Voldemort said quietly, making to stand. "I will-"
Harry's fingers clutching at his robes prevented him from moving, and he turned to the young man.
"Don't leave me. Send someone else. If they're too late, I want to- I want to die... win your arms."
Tired emerald eyes looked up at him.
"I will go and fetch help. Stay with him." Isla said quietly, before running away before they could think of a protest.
Voldemort sighed and sat down, cradling Harry's in his arms.
"Lucius..." The young man murmured.
"Here." The blonde answered, taking his hand, closing his eyes as the Dark Lord started stroking his hair gently.
They stayed there in silence, waiting for help to come. Acastus, Eden, Thanatos and Adair had settled down around their parents, tears running down the youngest's cheeks even as his eldest tried to soothe him despite his own grief. They could see life escaping their father, his skin was growing paler and paler despite the spells the Dark Lord and Lucius had cast to try and limit the blood flow. His breathing was also becoming shallower, and his lids were dropping, slowly hiding the darkening emerald orbs.
Their heads snapped up at the shout, and they smiled in relief as they saw Severus, Draco and Luna rushing towards them, followed by Isla.
"Help's here. Hold on Harry." Voldemort whispered, only to look down at Lucius' terrified whisper.
"Dad?" Adair called out.
"Harry? Harry, can you hear me?"
But the man had gone limp in their arms, eyes closed and skin deathly pale, and he wasn't breathing anymore.
"NO!" Voldemort roared. "Harry! Harry! Harry!"
Severus reached them, pushed them aside without any consideration as to who they were, merely started casting, immediately joined by Luna as Draco tried to comfort the kids and prevent them from hindering his wife and godfather's work. Harry remained immovable. And they couldn't help the atrocious feeling that maybe...
Harry was dead.
"People fear Death for some reason. I never understood that way of thinking, though it most likely had to do with the fact that I grew up wishing for it instead of fearing it. As a child, beaten, I used to think Death would be a great escape. I would fall asleep one day and never wake up again, never feel the pain ever again.
When I was introduced to the Wizarding World, Death became the only way I would ever get freedom, from my name, the expectations linked to it, the act I had to pull off every day, the Light's manipulations, the Dark's efforts to kill me.
Then, I met Neah, and Death took a new sense altogether. It learned to deal it instead of wanting it for myself. I became Death's companion and harbinger. So goes the Assassin Guild's motto: 'Hand in hand with Death.'"
2 years later.
"I love you."
Emerald green eyes blinked sleepily up at him, and he couldn't help a fond smile. Lucius leaned over and lay a chaste kiss on the dark-haired man's lips, before wrapping his arms around his bare waist. The man, much to their chagrin, was as thin as ever, though he had fattened up a little, and didn't look as skeletal as he had two years ago, when they had freed him from the Forbidden Wing.
Long, slender fingers traced the harsh scar right above Harry's heart, and Voldemort leaned down and kissed his younger husband passionately, remembering the despair he had felt when he had stopped breathing in their arms, blood flowing out of the grievous wound, hand clutched in Lucius'. He thought it was the only time he'd ever seen his blonde lover cry, and had shed tears himself, in the privacy of their rooms, alone with Lucius and Harry's unconscious body, exhausted by the stress of the battle and the fear of losing the young husband they had just got back.
But Luna's healer training had proved priceless along with Severus' potions, and the two's skills, combined with the unsavory concoctions, had made miracles. The wound had slowly healed, and Harry had lived. He had been in a coma for two months, but he had lived. Lived to walk again, to speak, to forgive and love them.
Lived to start over.
For the first time ever, Acastus had cried, while Adair didn't even try to conceal his relief, and had outright sobbed on the just awoken man's lap, delicate fingers threading soothingly through his hair. The twins had apologized for their offensive behavior and, upon being granted forgiveness, had been quick to ask to be taught all the "wicked things you did, it was awesome! Can you do it again?" Harry had laughed at that, promised to teach everything they wanted if they promised not to abuse the power it would give them.
Lucius and Voldemort had taken up the chance to ask about those skills. And so Harry had explained. How, after fourth year, Neah had nursed him back to health one summer day after a particularly vicious beating and rape. He had been there for Harry over and over again, and had started teaching him. Ironically enough, the Savior of the Light had proven to be an extremely talented assassin, and it wasn't long before he gained an official Mastery. He had become the Poison Shadow, and Voldemort had found himself dumbfounded to think that he himself had actually hired the Assassin's services several times over to deal heavy blows to the Light. To think that Harry had been the one to accomplish those missions was mind-boggling.
That had also been the opportunity for them to find out where the young man had been disappearing to every afternoon. He was actually going to the Guild's Headquarters to train or take on missions. When they had asked the reason why he had never said anything to lift their suspicions off him, he had simply answered that he didn't want to be pressured into taking missions he didn't feel like going on, or merely be kept as a tool. He didn't want them to manipulate him into being loyal to them by making him fall in love with them only to keep his skills as an Assassin. And his cover was essential. Nobody could know the truth about him.
The first time they had made love after they had freed him was initiated by Harry. He had offered them his body one day, and they had asked him to drop the glamours so that they could see what he really looked like. He had refused at first, before finally relenting. And as he waited for rejection and heartbreak, they merely kissed him and caressed him and discovered his body, worshiping every single inch of skin, marred or not, whispering silent words of adoration and love and how he was beautiful. He had cried as he came, cried as they held him and murmured soft words in his ear, kissed away the tears and hold him tight all night.
And then, slowly, he had started healing.
Thanks to Severus, Luna and Draco's presence, to his children's respect and love, to his husbands' unconditional love and support. They had waited for him when he left for a mission, watched him train and practice with the twins, slowly rebuilt his self-confidence, helped him accept his scarred body. Killed the muggles who had dared lay a hand on their precious husband. Of course, it had been disguised as an accident. They had just disappeared one day and nobody had ever seen them again.
"Nggh..." He moaned as Voldemort kissed the inside of his thigh, and Lucius pinched his nipples. The Dark Lord spread his legs wide open and gave a tentative lick at his cock, which hardened immediately. Smiling, the man positioned himself at his entrance and thrust in, making Harry arch his back and throw his head back in pleasure, while Lucius kissed him passionately.
That night, as they lay together basking in the afterglow, they finally heard it.
"I love you, Lucius, Marvolo."
The two men shared a glance over Harry's head, and wrapped their arms around their Third's delicate body, holding him tightly to their chests.
"I love you too." They whispered in unison.
And the beatific smile on his lips lit up the room as if it were noon.
Okay, so what did you think? I know the end might have sounded somewhat cheesy, but, well, I thought they all needed to be reassured after all the shit they'd been through.
Here's a little chronology to clarify things as they happened in this story:
2000: Mariage. Acastus' birth (25)
2008: Eden & Thanatos' birth (17)
2010: Adair's birth (15) + Imprisoned.
2025: Bleeding Love.
So, yeah, Harry's 45 in this story. However, seeing how long wizards live, I decided they all still looked young, especially considering how powerful they all are. You can either chose that the Horcruxes exist or not.
If they do, then Harry, as the Master of Death, is immortal, and so is Lucius thanks to his Veela blood, which makes him die at the same time as his mates.
If you'd rather they didn't, then I just gave you an explanation.