Disclaimer: All the characters from the books, all the places mentioned annd basically everything else is intellectual property of J..

Author's Note: Hey there! You took the blackmail pretty seriously, didn't you? #snicker# It's not like the chapters would have been all that short if I had cut this chapter into two, though this saved me the trouble to decide where I should make a cut. I'll post this chapter first and then I'll answer them, the reviews I mean, since I don't want to make you wait any longer. I planned to tell you today that I won't be able to post everyday from now on and will instead post every two days or something like that, but after this very convincing number of reviews I don't have the heart. #shrug# But I'll really need more time for school and for my job and for my friends and for things in general, though I will post tomorrow and Wednesday because I'll only have three lessons, but after that I think I won't post daily anymore. Sorry, and thanks again for all those wonderful reviews. Blackmail seems to be quite effective to get you to review... #lol#

And now enjoy your super long chappie!

33. MAKING UP

The next few days were like hell for Tom. Harry was giving him the silent treatment, if he wasn't shouting at him or covering in fear. He didn't show up in any of his Defence lessons, conveniently placing his appointments with the nurse in those lessons, striding into the classroom after the bell rang and shoving his homework and a pass from Madam Pomfrey in his hands before he hurried off to his next class.

In the nights he stayed in Slytherin or with one of his Death Eaters, sending Dobby, who glared at him with narrowed tennis-ball eyes, to fetch his things in the morning.

Every time he had tried to talk with Harry and apologise, he would receive a glare or a tongue-lashing in answer, depending on Harry's mood more than on what he had said. But the worst was the knowledge that Harry was doing much worse than he himself did. He knew from Severus, who at least was still talking to him, that Harry threw up on a regular basis, keeping little of the food he so diligently coerced himself into eating in his stomach and he was sure that Harry had also fainted a couple of times from a snippet of conversation between Blaise and Draco he had overheard. And then there was the crying, he rarely saw the black-haired boy without a wet face or red-rimmed eyes anymore.

He even went to Madam Pomfrey asking if Harry would be alright and if it was supposed to be that way, but she just told him that information on patients was confidential and that he should make up with Harry before bothering her again.

That was the gleam of hope he stubbornly clutched to: Everyone said that he should make up with Harry as so they thought it possible and as so Harry needed him. And that's why he had decided to buy some books on male pregnancies and fatherhood in general.

At the moment he was absorbed in "The 101 wonders of male pregnancies", though as he had gathered from the index the book only described 98 so-called wonders and didn't provide him with any help, how to apologise to Harry in a way he would accept.

"Tom?", Harry's voice sounded small and wary, "Is that you? Why is your hair red?"

His heart skipped a beat or two as he slowly turned around and caught sight of his petite husband: "I went shopping and needed a disguise, I guess I forgot the hair", he slowly extended his wand, so as not to scare Harry and took of the glamour, "Would you like to see what I bought? I got some things for you, too."

Harry looked doubtful and slowly shook his head, backing away again: "I'll just go."

"Harry, please...", back to begging again, "You don't have to be afraid of me. Didn't you come here for a reason? If you want to be alone, I will go... and you don't have to stay the weekend, though I would miss you. I miss you, Harry, and I'm sorry for what I said and did to you..."

"I have to go", Harry whispered and nearly ran out of the room.

It was Thursday and Tom knew that Harry had Quidditch practise on Thursdays, but that still didn't explain what Harry had wanted, which had prompted him to visit him in his rooms. Whatever it was he hoped it was important enough that Harry would come again. He sighed, something he had found himself doing a lot lately, and forlornly looked at the package of books he had bought for Harry. It wasn't the most romantic gift, but given their current state of non-communication he thought it appropriate.

His own pile of books lay on his desk already categorised in "may be helpful" and "I doubt the author had any idea what he filled the pages with" and in front of him on the small coffee table, next to the book he had been reading before Harry had walked in lay a notebook, filled with information he had deducted from the books so far.

He sighed once again and decided to take a bath and maybe forget about his husband for a while, though he most likely wouldn't be able to accomplish that.

His prediction turned out to be true, but still the bath had helped him relax and for two blissful minutes he had been able to pretend that Harry was not angry with him, but waiting in the other room, leafing through one of the books, before harsh reality caught up with him. Perhaps, after this short insight in his psyche you can imagine his surprise when he found Harry curled up on one of the beanbags, reading through his notes. He stood there in the doorway for a moment trying to process this sight, staring at Harry.

The small boy must have felt his eyes on him and looked up sharply, his green eyes boring into Voldemort's red ones before he unfolded himself quickly and threw his arms around Tom's midsection.

Tom insecurely returned the hug and as he became aware that Harry wasn't drawing back, he pressed their bodies more firmly together: "Will you forgive me, Harry?", he asked after a while.

"You already are forgiven", Harry mumbled, "Thank you."

"For what?", Tom inquired confusedly.

"For making an effort", Harry looked up at him, smiling slightly, "For not giving up."

"Sweetie, I will never give up on you", he pulled Harry over to the sofa, happily putting an arm around Harry's shoulder as the Gryffindor snuggled into him.

"We need to talk, Tom", Harry said reluctantly, freeing himself from Tom's embrace and sitting down in one of the beanbags, "You scare me shitless, Tom, and you hurt me constantly."

"Harry, I...", the black-haired man started, but Harry interrupted, "No, let me finish. And it was okay, but now I have to look out for my child and I can't allow you to harm or even kill it. I'm not angry with you and I'm grateful for all this", he motioned to the notes, "But this doesn't work. So I ask you to stay away from me", tears were streaming down his face.

"No, Harry, I refuse."

"It was not a request", Harry choked out, "Stay away from me. I'll be back on Sunday so that you can fuck me..."

"Harry, please, may I say something, too?", Voldemort pleaded, not showing how much Harry's words had hurt him, "I'm sorry I hurt you, even though unintentionally and I will try to not do it again if you tell me how exactly I did. And I'm sorry I scare you, but there really is no reason to be scared. I wanted you to bestow me with a child, Harry, I didn't want you to become pregnant this young or without your consent, but I want that child."

"Then why did you say, I should kill it?", Harry sniffed.

"Because I can't see a jumble of undeveloped cells as a human being", Tom explained, "And as I said before I didn't want you to have to cope with a pregnancy this early on. But I'll respect your decision to keep it and I will help you with it, if you want me to or not. I will be a part of your life and I refuse to only use you for sexual release, so I won't stay away from you."

During his last sentence he had slowly got up, walked over to his husband and now carefully cradled the fragile boy in his arms, rubbing his back soothingly: "Don't be afraid, little one, please don't be afraid anymore. I promise you and our child will be save."

"Really?", Harry sniffed.

"Really really", he kissed Harry's forehead lightly, "Now will you tell me what I have to be aware of with my very own pregnant wizard? Those books aren't all that helpful."

"What books?", Harry asked confusedly, snuggling into the older wizard.

"Didn't you see them? The ones I bought and from which I have taken the notes you read earlier."

"I'm sorry", Harry blushed profusely, "I didn't mean to snoop, it's just I saw my name and I got curious..."

"It's okay", Tom chuckled, "I planned to show them to you anyway, but I also bought a few books for you Do you want to see them?"

Harry nodded and the Dark Lord summoned the pile of books over to them. Well, it was a rather small pile with only three books, though one was pretty large. The one on top was an autobiography called "Winter Son" by a wizard called Adam Winter, who had given birth to his son in late January 1934 and the clerk had assured him that it was very descriptive on being a bearer and being pregnant. The second and largest one was bound in dark brown leather, which read "Chronicles of Male Mothers" and was supposed to list some general facts about male pregnancies and giving birth as well as some exceptions on the basis of real cases. And the last one called "A guide to being a parent", filled one hundred or so pages with rules to consider in order to birth a healthy child.

"Thank you, Tom", Harry smiled cautiously up at him.

"You're welcome", he once again kissed his young husband chastely, "Will you tell me what Madam Pomfrey told you in your meetings? She refused to inform me..."

"Okay", the Gryffindor said nervously, "Where should I start?"

"Why don't you tell me what changes will have to be made first and how I can support you?"

"Madam Pomfrey said that I should avoid curses or kicks to my abdomen and that I shouldn't drink any dangerous potion or inhale certain vapours. I am to avoid stressy situations and losing my temper because the child feeds on my magic, but I'm also supposed to use my magic regularly because otherwise it will be too much for the child. She said I could continue my lessons with Rudolphus and Rabastan if they are careful not to hurt me and that I should also play Quidditch since I love it and as long as I dodge all the Bludgers I'll be fine. And she said I should eat more and I'm really trying, but..."

"But you throw up most of it", Tom said, brushing a few strands out of Harry's pale face, "I know. Maybe it would be better if you only ate as much as you actually want to."

"Then I wouldn't eat anything", Harry chuckled ruefully, "But I know what you mean and I will try it, okay?"

"Okay, and what can I do?", the Dark Lord asked softly.

"I don't know", Harry shrugged, "I didn't ask Madam Pomfrey about that..."

"Then I will ask her later on and if something comes to your mind, you'll tell me, agreed?", Harry nodded and pressed a little closer: "I'm tired."

"Maybe you should take a nap, sweetie?", Voldemort suggested, "Come on, the sofa is certainly more comfortable", he scooped up the slight boy and moved them over to the sofa, covering him with the white blanket, "Sleep tight."

Harry curled up once again, snuggling closer to the older wizard, his head comfortably on Tom's thigh, and closed his eyes, dozing off almost immediately. Tom had a hard time to remember when he had been this happy the last time. He had his Harry back, his Harry, who was pregnant with his child and who peacefully snoozed in his arms, one of his small hands once again protectively resting against his stomach. He slowly brushed Harry's robes aside and then sneaked one of his large hands under Harry's sweater, putting it on his still too flat abdomen and began to rub in small circles, trying to grasp it that his child was growing inside of that petite body. Harry shifted a little and their hands brushed against each other, but didn't open his eyes.

The next three-quarter hour they spent in that position and they would have continued doing so if it weren't for one Lucius Malfoy who stormed into their room in a cold fury (after Tom had unlocked it with his wand) and glared down at the Dark Lord after banging the door behind him.

"Lucius, did you want something?", Voldemort asked mildly irritated, but in a lowered voice because he didn't want to wake up Harry.

"Well, I came to give you a piece of my mind about making Harry upset, but it seems that's unnecessary now, Mylord", the blond wizard smirked, "Am I right to assume that you and Harry made up?"

"You could say so", the Dark Lord smirked back, "But lower your voice, Harry's sleeping."

"Am not", Harry stretched like a cat and blinked up at his husband, "Hey, Lucius. What brought you here?"

"My son", the blond looked around, looking for something suitable to sit on, but since the only seats available around were the beanbags (something totally undeserving of a Malfoy) he preferred to keep standing, "He was of the opinion that you needed some moral support and your husband someone to set him right, though he got all secretive when I asked what was the cause of the situation. Care to enlighten me?"

"No, I have to go to the bathroom", Harry had went white as a sheet, "Tom will."

"Harry, are you...", the small boy had already half closed the door and before Tom had finished the sentence the door shut completely and the sound of locks being turned could be heard; he sighed, "Lucius, take a seat, why don't you?"

"Because I refuse to sit on a beanbag", the aristocrat scowled disdainfully at the cushions.

"Harry seems to like them", the Dark Lord mused, "And he won't approve if you're still standing when he comes back."

"Harry likes the rain as well and too large clothes and fairytales", Lucius argued, "You'll forgive me if I don't find your argument too convincing, Mylord."

"Well, then sit down on the sofa", Voldemort ordered him, "I obviously have to talk to you."

"I'm all ears", Lucius sat down with a straight back, but still managed to look totally relaxed.

"Harry is a bearer and now pregnant", Tom said evenly, "He asked me to use contraception, which I didn't hear, so obviously I didn't. First reason why he was angry with me. Then I didn't exactly react enthusiastic about the news and told him to get an abortion, which was the second reason he was angry with me. Would you want to say something?"

"Of course, Mylord", Lucius smiled at the boy-who-lived, who had reappeared from the bathroom, "I think congratulations are in order."

"Oh, thank you, Lucius", Harry beamed at him and hugged him rapturously, "Thank you so much."

"Any time, Harry", the blond smiled once again at the small boy, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine", Harry chuckled lightly as he saw the disbelieving looks he received from both Dark wizards, "You shouldn't ask questions if you don't feel up to accepting the answers."

"So you're telling me that it's completely okay that you had to rush to the bathroom not five minutes earlier, white as a ghost, and that you reappear not looking better at all", Tom scowled down at his shorter husband, "I find that hard to believe."

"I have to agree with you, Mylord", Lucius added.

/Lucius is your best-friend, isn't he, Harry abruptly changed the subject and language/Then why isn't he allowed to call you by your first name/

/Because he still is a Death Eater, the Dark Lord answered, sighing heavily.

/That is stupid, Tom, Harry said reproachfully/You destroy a friendship just because you don't want to lose one of your minions./

/That's fine with me./

/But it's not fine with me, Harry argued/I want you to have friends, too. And I want you to treat Lucius with the respect he deserves. And I want you to open up and let others see the fascinating, caring, courageous, stubborn personage I know. Please/

"Fine", Tom scowled at his younger husband, who smirked triumphantly and kissed his nose, "Lucius, you're allowed to call me Tom."

"Mylord? Could you repeat that, I'm not sure I heard you right", the blond asked perplexed.

"As Harry pointed out to me", the red-eyed man frowned at the Gryffindor, who had curled up between the two older man, "You are my best-friend and it is seemingly stupid of me to force you to use that title so you are allowed to call me Tom."

"I thank you for that privilege, Tom", Lucius inclined his head slightly, "Thank you, Harry."

"There see, it wasn't that bad, was it?", Harry looked up at the Dark Lord, "Can we go down to the Great Hall?"

"Sure", Tom agreed readily and helped the green-eyed boy up, snaking one arm around his waist almost immediately, "I can't wait to rub it in Dumbledore's face that you forgave me..."

"At least you have a purpose in life", Harry murmured sarcastically and Lucius laughed.

They entered the Great Hall together, which alone was a good reason for everyone to stare. Harry had avoided Professor Riddle, whom they now knew to be You-Know-Who, during the last few days, not even allowing him to come closer than three meters and now the boy hero had walked through the great double doors with one possessive arm slung around his waist and furthermore accompanied instead of the Malfoy heir by a smirking Lucius Malfoy. But then the Dark Lord halted his steps and spun his young lover around, pulling him flush against his body and lowering his head only slightly claimed Harry's pink lips with his, forcing the smaller boy to stand on his tiptoes and to throw his arms around his neck in order to keep his balance.

Oh, how he had missed this. This Harry, who was responsive and not afraid of him. Tom teasingly suckled Harry's bottom lip, cupping his face with his large hands, before his tongue pushed into Harry's mouth, stroking leisurely, drawing a small mewl from his Gryffindor.

"Wow", Harry sighed breathlessly once Tom had released his mouth, "Trying to prove something?"

"Yes, you are mine, Harry Potter", he growled passionately.

"I'm yours, Tom", Harry assured him gently, "But you have no control over me."

"I know, which makes keeping you all the more challenging", he chuckled lightly, once again initiating a much shorter kiss, "But I wouldn't have it any other way", he whispered the last sentence in Harry's ear before he gentlemanly led him to the Gryffindor table and pulled out his chair for him, "Enjoy your meal, little one."

"Where have you been, Potter?", Ron sneered contemptuously and Harry had the impression that Ginny had kicked him under the table, "You missed Quidditch practise."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I had to check with my husband and I trusted that all of you have brains enough to fly a bit without my supervision", Harry returned evenly, not looking at the red-head.

"Sloper hit Hermione with a Bulgier", Ron complained, "She had to go to the Hospital Wing."

"And what was she doing there, Ron?", Harry asked annoyedly, "Besides, she's fine if you abstain from drowning in self-pity. Maybe you should go visit her instead of bothering me. And Jack, how about you do some additional training, where you try to beat with aim instead of pure force?"

"That's not so easy, Harry", Jack said gruffly.

"I'll help you... Tomorrow after classes", Harry thought for a moment, "To make up for the missed training today. You should come, too, Andrew, after all we all know that Gryffindor is supposed to win the Cup, don't we?"

The table around him erupted in consenting shouts and several heads from the other tables swivelled around to stare at them.

"But still, that doesn't explain why you were sucking faces with You-Know-Who only moments before", Ginny interrupted the cheerful atmosphere, "Didn't look to me like you were as averse to it as you claimed, poor little Harry."

"Miss Weasley, I would really appreciate it if you could focus on your own dinner instead of keeping my husband from his. Five points from Gryffindor", Tom's cold voice spoke up from behind them, "Harry, would you like to eat with me and Lucius at the teacher's table?"

"I'm not really hungry", Harry murmured, but relented when Tom stared at him reproachfully, "But I'm sure I'll like your company more than this here."

"Harry, will you sleep in our dormitory tonight?", Neville asked pleadingly, "We'll make Ron shut up and I would like to talk to you...", Ron sent him an angry glare, which surprisingly enough had no effect on the shy boy, "After all you are still a Gryffindor, aren't you? We haven't seen you except in classes..."

"I'll be there", Harry promised and tugged the Dark Lord away before he could protest, "You'll have me the whole weekend, Tom, and you promised."

"Don't I know?", Tom sighed dramatically, "Just promise that if for some reason you change your plans that you'll come to me instead of the Lestranges or someone else."

"I just remembered", Harry's eyes suddenly shone more brightly as he skipped ahead to where the two brothers sat, "I need to talk to you two after dinner, okay?", he kissed both their cheeks and smiled encouragingly at them as they nodded, "It's nothing bad, don't worry."

"So, it's looks like you made up with our Lord", Rabastan raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Were we that obvious? It was supposed to be a secret...", Harry teased him lightly, "What gave us away? Was it the kiss?"

"It was actually the fact that you smiled a real smile again", Rudolphus returned just as cheeky, smirking as Harry blushed.

"Stop tormenting my husband", Tom ordered sternly, enveloping the smaller wizard in his arms/Though it is true, you know, and I'm rather proud of myself.../

"Tom, Harry, if I remember correctly we have already discussed whether or not Harry is allowed to be up here at the teacher's table...", Dumbledore spoke up and with a polite, forced smile motioned for Harry to leave, "If you would, Harry?"

/Let me handle this, the Dark Lord hissed soothingly in Harry's ear and pushed him towards Lucius, who caught him with ease and settled him on his lap, "Dumbledore, I'm sure it's a strain for you to meddle in everyone's lives and to keep up with the outcome of certain discussions, but I assure you that Harry will always be allowed to spent time with me and if you continue to foolishly assume that you can order us around and intervene in our life I will look to it that yours will come to a sudden end, am I understood?"

"I find it incredibly impertinent of you to force Harry, a mere child, to please your sick desires and to hand him over to your Death Eaters like he was nothing more than a rag doll or a whore at best", the aged the wizard had stood as well, in an attempt to match Voldemort in height, and said those words, trying to win Harry back.

"How dare you?", Voldemort pointed his wand directly at Dumbledore's beard bow, "How fucking dare you? If you hadn't noticed, Harry is his own person and he can make his own decisions and he certainly is no whore or a rag doll and if you insult him in such a way again I will invoke the Slytherin family rules to defend the family honour and kill you anyway. Don't think I have a problem with going through with that threat and no court would even think about convicting me for it..."

"Tom, you have to calm down", Lucius called urgently, cradling a sobbing black-haired boy to his chest, a small trickle of blood soiling his immaculate robes, "He isn't worth that you hurt Harry."

"Salazar, precious", he was at Harry's side in the blink of an eye and took him in his arms/I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sweetie. I shouldn't have lost my temper, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry./

/I'm okay, Harry groaned looking up from where his head rested against Tom's shoulder/It just hurts when you're angry./

/You shouldn't use a 'just' in a sentence like that, Harry, he thankfully accepted the wet napkin Lucius handed him and carefully dabbed the blood from Harry's forehead with it/Better now/

Harry hummed appreciatively/It isn't true what he said, Tom. You don't treat me like a whore and I thank you for that and for defending me, but I can look after myself./

/I know, but you still deserve someone to worry about you and now I need to take care of the old fool, he had meant to use one of his more creative and hurtful curses, but Harry stopped him, mirth dancing in his eyes/Let me, please? Give me your wand, will you/

So far the four Death Eaters had kept Dumbledore at bay, though Severus played his role as a double agent and looked rather reluctant, and the other teachers had taken on a defensive stance, but hadn't dared to reach for their wands. Voldemort still stood with his back to all the adults, with Harry looking over his shoulder and no-one, but Harry, was really sure what happened next: One moment Dumbledore was glaring reproachfully at the Death Eaters and tried to give his Potion's Master a secret sign, which was studiously ignored, and the next moment there was a beam of blinding purple light and in place of Dumbledore stood a garden gnome (the Muggle version made of potter's clay fully equipped with a pointed red hat, a long white beard (still with little pink bows) a looking glass and little chess pawns around his hat).

"Mr. Potter, what have you done? Do you have any idea how dangerous full human transfigurations are?", Professor McGonagall frowned at him her lips thinner than usual.

"What? I don't even have my wand with me", Harry protested vehemently, holding up his hands to prove his point, "And yes, I know that it is dangerous, I did pay attention to your speech, you know? And to me it looks like the transfiguration was successful..."

"Hmpf", she still scowled at him, "Then, who ever did this would do better to reverse it- now!"

Understandably no-one stepped forward with an apologetic smile and helped the Headmaster back into his human form: "Professor, if I had been the one to perform the spell in the first place I certainly wouldn't reverse it after only two minutes."

"Thanks for that insightful view, Mr. Potter", she scowled darkly at him, "Now, Mr. Riddle, would you be so kind as to reverse the spell you used immediately."

"Tom was the only one standing with his back to the headmaster", argued Harry, "It's rather prejudiced of you to accuse him, Professor."

"I assure you, Minerva, that if I had been the one to curse the old fool I would have chosen far more drastic and painful measures. Besides, I always was under the impression that you claimed to be an expert in transfiguration so maybe you should do something about Dumbledore's awkward situation", the Dark Lord smirked at her, "And now- if you don't mind- we'll continue our dinner in peace and quiet with no-one bothering us..."

And so they did. Well, the Dark wizards plus Harry did while McGonagall pensively stared at the garden gnome with the other teachers watching them warily, adding more or less helpful advice every once in a while and the students mostly deemed it more necessary to voice their suspicions and assumption than to fill their stomachs with nourishment.

Harry sat with his back to them, straddling Tom's lap and pretending he didn't feel the suspicious glances thrown his way or the still small waves of hatred directed in his direction.

"You should eat something", Tom nudged him gently, handing Harry a turkey sandwich, "I won't have you skip anymore meals because that senile coot upset you."

"It's not that", Harry murmured subduedly, "They hate me, they think I've changed sides and betrayed them."

"Then they are stupid", Lucius declared from his left, "Everyone who uses their eyes can see that you were not the one converted... Don't take it to heart what they might say or think."

"Besides, we like you", Rudolphus butted in, "Wasn't it you who told me to take myself more seriously?"

Harry laughed at him: "It seems you only listen to me when it suits you."

"The birth right of a Slytherin", the brown-haired man agreed, smirking at him, "But seeing as you ignore us most of the time, I think it's only fair..."

"Hey, I do listen to you", protested Harry, "I just don't believe everything you come up with. That's the birth right of people with brains and common sense."

"Harry, eat your dinner", Madam Pomfrey said sternly and loaded a plate full with steak and noodles, "By the way, quite impressive spellwork, though I certainly don't approve", she whispered in his ear and pushed the plate into his hands before she stalked back to her own seat.

Harry pouted cutely, but began to obediently shovel some food into his mouth.

"How come, you do what she tells you while I have to blackmail you?", Tom asked irritatedly.

"When did you blackmail me?", Harry asked curiously, turning around so that he could put his plate down on the table.

"For instance when I told you would have to go back to bed if you didn't eat enough...", the red-eyed wizard said.

"Oh, did you really believe I would go back to our rooms?", Harry smiled over his shoulder, "Sometimes you're just too cute..."

Voldemort growled warningly, but Harry only intertwined their hands and chuckled lowly before he turned to the blond next to him: "Only hypothetically, but if I were to piss you off really badly and would offend your family honour or something like that, what would I have to do to make up for it?"

"What did you do?", Lucius asked in a dread-filled voice.

"Nothing, it really is only theoretical", Harry assured him, "But what would I have to do?"

"Well, depending on what hypothetically happened, you could either spend a lot of money, give me a prized possession, let me do the same thing to you or marry into the family", Lucius sighed, "All of course in connection with a profuse apology and a lot of grovelling. Are you sure this is only theoretical?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Lucius", Harry repeated dutifully, "So, let's assume for just one minute that you had lost your magic because of me or that I killed someone of your family what could be done to make you forgive me?"

"You mean I would be a squib", Lucius clarified, seemingly having difficulties to imagine something as horrifying as that, "I guess there wouldn't be much you could do and even if you were to use all the aforementioned options you still wouldn't be forgiven and our descendants would have to live with a family feud for at least ten generations before we could even consider accepting all those options. So please, Harry, tell me again that you just asked out of general curiosity."

"Oh, honestly, Lucius", Harry scolded, "I would never deprive you of even just a small part of your magic and I wouldn't dream of killing someone of your family. By the way, who would you consider family in such a case?"

"Everyone with the name of Malfoy and everyone married to a Malfoy and every child from such a bond. Basically everyone with even a drop of Malfoy blood in their veins", Lucius sighed heavily.

"So you wouldn't consider Sirius family, would you?", Harry asked interestedly.

"No, he's a part of Narcissa's family, though if her family were somehow offended, I would have to take part in defending her honour", the blond explained, "Harry, do you have a reason to ask all those questions, this is not exactly what one would consider a subject suitable for light table talk..."

"Just one more question, please?", Harry begged with big green eyes and a small pout, "Is there a family feud between you and the Weasleys?"

"No, we just don't like each other very much. I guess our views are just too different", Lucius answered honestly, "A family feud is not to be taken lightly in any event, Harry, and so they aren't declared very often and only in the rarest of cases. It all depends on the family rules when and why it is considered necessary."

"Oh, good", Harry leaned back contently, "You should spend some time with Draco, you know, he missed you."

"I was planning, too", Lucius said warily, "You are not up to something, are you, Harry?"

"For the last time, Lucius", Harry chastised the tall blond, "I was only curious and I think you should spend time with your son since you're already here and if you ask me one more time if I plan to start a family feud I'll have to take drastic measures, understood? And now come on, you should sit with Draco", he pulled the Malfoy head of family out of his seat and dragged him over to where Draco sat surrounded by his friends, "Besides, Lucius, I'm always up to something and thanks for coming."

"You're welcome", the tall blond slowed his steps so that they could walk more gracefully, "And I'm sorry for not believing you in the first place. Can I do anything to make it up to you?"

"Actually you could, or at least I hope so", Harry asked softly, "Could you maybe get in contact with Sirius or Remus somehow and tell them... you know? I would write them an owl, but I think Dumbledore will be intercepting my mail and I don't want him or anyone else to know."

"Sure, Harry", he smiled down at the small boy he had come to care about like a son, "Hello, Draco."

"Father", Draco inclined his had in formal greeting, "Would you like to eat with me?"

"Yes, Draco", Lucius replied just as stiffly and took the chair Pansy had vacated for him, "Thank you, Miss Parkinson, how is your mother doing?"

"Nicely", she replied, "The business goes smoothly and my sister is negotiating about an estate in Cleveland."

"Oh, yes, I've been there once, nice location with good line of communication, if I remember correctly", Lucius answered, "Harry don't you want to take a seat as well?"

"I did, but I just realised that it's not really the sort of conversation I would enjoy", he scrunched up his nose a little, "Anyway, did you bring my book bag, Draco?"

The younger blond-haired wizard handed it over: "You forgot your wand as well. I hope you enjoy using me as your drudge..."

"Of course, I do", the raven-haired boy smirked at him before kissing his cheek, "I always thought you had to be useful for something... Have fun and thank you."

He skipped back over to the four Dark wizards, who had just finished their dinner and regally descended the few steps, followed by the angry glares of the other teachers, who finally had decided to take the garden gnome to Dumbledore's office to end his embarrassment, though they could to nothing to stop the whispers that had broken out.

Before he could ask his husband whether it was okay for him to talk with the Lestrange brothers in private said husband once again pulled him closer and kissed him passionately, one hand cupping the pale face while the other stroked the small of his back, drawing a small mew from Harry, whose hands rested against Tom's chest, feeling the regular heart beats.

"Yes, you may go with Rabastan and Rudolphus", he whispered into Harry's ear, his breath sending small shivers down his spine, "And I shall miss you when you spend the whole night in the Gryffindor Tower, but once again you have my permission- not that you need it or that you would listen to me if I objected. And I dared to cancel your appointment tomorrow with Madam Pomfrey, which happened to be placed during your Defence lesson, and changed it to Saturday eleven o'clock so that I can come with you, if you allow it..."

"Of course, I would like you to be there", Harry smiled up at the red-eyed man, "Though I must admit I found it quite amusing to skip your lessons."

"So did everyone else", sighed the Dark Lord, "But if you want to do this again at least inform me beforehand, okay? I was really worried the first time you didn't show up and Draco refused to give me a straight answer. Stupid Malfoys... It's your bad influence."

"I don't deny it", Harry chuckled lightly, "Just give me a bit more time and I'll corrupt all your Death Eaters."

"I can't wait", Tom returned sarcastically, but with smiling eyes, glad that Harry seemed to be comfortable with teasing him, "So you wanted to talk with Rudolphus and Rabastan? Then, of you go! And I want you to get a good night's sleep- I'm sure you're not supposed to be up and about all day."

"Right you are, Mr. Riddle", Madam Pomfrey had joined their group, "If you have a bit of time to spare I would like to discuss Mr. Potter's condition with you and Severus."

The two black-haired man nodded and left with the nurse, who had earned herself a reproachful look from Harry, who then was led away by the two Lestrange brothers to their rooms. Harry liked their small apartment since it was the only one of a Death Eater that didn't look totally Slytherin. Not that he had anything against silver, green and black, but in his opinion a bit of variety would do them more good than harm. Their rooms were held in different kinds of blue and the Chinese decorations, photos and picture gave them a light Asian touch. All in all Harry found the atmosphere quite relaxing and even homey. He sat down on the same sofa he had already spent two nights on and motioned for the brothers to take a seat as well while he unpacked his book bag, extending a copy of Rudolphus' marriage contract, the book of conduct for the Lestrange family, a book on archaic Wizarding law, which was still intact and several newspaper clippings.

"You found a way out of this marriage", Rudolphus said in awe and Harry nodded, "How?"

"Well, let's start in the beginning, okay", he drew the book on Wizarding law closer leafing to the marked page, "Here it says that unless it is expressly stated otherwise that the family laws outrule any contract regardless of which nature. And in your contract there is nothing about that so your family law is to be observed first. And there it says that you can't marry into a family with which you are in a blood or family feud if there are less then fifteen generations in between."

"That's all good and fine, but there is no family feud between us and the Blacks", Rabastan said disappointedly, but Harry continued unperturbed, "Correct, but there is a family feud between you and the family which cost your ancestor Robert Lestrange his magic and caused the death of his sister's baby in 1846. The Songloires."

"But there isn't anyone left of that family" protested Rudolphus but Harry once again shook his head, "It is true that there isn't anyone left with that name, but there are with their blood. In 1924 Saladin Songloire married Immaculata Black and took her name. I have their marriage announcement here", he shuffled through the papers till he found the right clipping and handed it to Rudolphus, "That was the last time the name Songloire was ever mentioned in the newspapers since Saladin took his wife's name, quite curious, isn't it? They had one son Castor who married and then they had three daughters Narcissa, Andromeda and Bellatrix..."

"How did you get all this information?", Rabastan asked awe-struck after he had leafed through all the newspaper clippings and checked the information in the different books.

"From different people", Harry shrugged, "Percy, Sirius, Narcissa, Tom..."

"Wait a minute", Rudolphus interrupted, "Narcissa helped you? Why?"

"Because I asked her to", Harry answered nonchalantly, "And I know you're proud of your acting skills, Rudolphus, but it was plain for everyone to see that your marriage with Bellatrix isn't exactly happy and that she's the cause of that."

"So this is true", the older Lestrange clarified, "I can divorce her."

"If you want to you can have your marriage annulled", Harry nodded, "It's your decision now."

"Of course, I want to, Harry, thank you", Rudolphus hugged the small boy fiercely, "But won't I have to marry your godfather then? While I'm not exactly averse to that idea, I don't want to destroy his life..."

"As the head of the Lestrange family you can just claim that the Black family deceived you and therefor you couldn't marry into that family again", Harry explained, "All you have to do is make a second contract with Sirius since he's also the head of house and state that the previous contract is to be considered invalid."

"You must have spent a lot of time on this", Rabastan remarked, drawing the petite boy in for a hug, "Thank you."

"You're welcome", Harry smiled up at them, "Just promise, you won't draw Sirius into this."

"I will make that contract with him", Rudolphus assured him, smiling slightly, "Do you want to stay the night?"

Harry shook his head and untangled himself from the four strong arms wrapped around him: "I promised Neville, I'd be in the tower tonight."

"We'll escort you there", Rabastan offered, "If you're really sure you want to do that. You were a bit... hysterical after you had tried it last time."

Harry blushed and ducked his head: "Ron was looking at me strangely", he defended himself, "It was just not right, but it's okay now. I have it under control."

"If you say so", they murmured simultaneously and got up, taking position on either side.

Harry smiled at their action and walked between them up to the Gryffindor tower. However, before they reached the right floor Harry suddenly halted and cocked his head to the side, listening intently, before he spun around and crouched down in front of an alcove: "Why are you crying, Tanea? Is something the matter?"

"Harry", a blond mop of shoulder-long hair appeared from the shadow before two hands were thrown around Harry's neck, "They think I'm evil and a Death Eater. They hate me."

"Why ever would they think that?", Harry asked gently patting her back, "Ravenclaws are supposed to be intelligent."

"I told Ashley that I spent two days with you and that You-know-who was rather nice then", she sobbed, "And now the whole house knows..."

"Come on", Harry pulled the young Ravenclaw to her feet, "We'll talk some sense into your house."

"Do you want us to come with you, Harry?", the younger Lestrange asked, but Harry shook his head after a bit of hesitation: "No, I'll be fine. Go and get some sleep! But will you help me tomorrow to train my beaters? They're horrendous."

"Sure thing, Harry", they both accepted the kiss to their cheeks and then watched as the young boy led the younger girl towards the painting of a eagle.

"To be or not to be", he whispered and the portrait swung open like a door, revealing a broad staircase that led up to the blue painted common room.

The wall colour however was hardly noticeable because of all the bookshelves around the circular room.

"Potter, what are you doing here?", Michael Corner asked from one of the many tables on which he had sat in a kind of study group with Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot, "Who told you the password?"

"A little snake", Harry said calmly sitting down in the next best chair, "We need to talk. I always thought that the house of Ravenclaw was renowned for its high intelligence and logic and yet I had to find out that you're as prejudiced and biased as the other houses. You call someone evil because they were open enough to judge others by their actual behaviour and not from hearsay. I won't defend my husband because firstly he doesn't need it and secondly I know that he committed a lot of crimes, but I really must ask you to treat a first year girl more fairly. I'm here to give you information, if you want it, so that you can form your own opinion instead of just rehashing what someone told you. What do you say?"

"Who says you're not going to lie?", Padma Patil asked snidely.

"I say it, but other than that you have no guarantee", Harry shrugged, "You either do believe me or you don't- it's your decision. I promise to speak the truth, but not to answer every question."

"Are you really married to You-know-who?", a timid second year asked.

"Yes, I have been married to Voldemort for about a month", Harry replied, "I've spent most of the holidays since then in his castle with the inner circle of Death Eaters."

"But you still contend to be on the Light side, Potter?", Michael sneered, "You make goo-goo eyes at him and his Death Eaters and their spawns and you still claim to be on our side?"

"No, I never claimed anything, Corner", Harry said evenly, "I never had the opportunity to chose a side and I was never asked what I really wanted. I don't support Voldemort, but I fight for my friends and my family and that no-one will have to die because of me again. I found some of those friends over the holidays: the Malfoy family, Rabastan and Rudolphus Lestrange and even Professor Snape. Maybe they're just manipulating me, I don't know, but at least they pretend to care about me. If you ask me now on which side I am, I'd say I'm still on the Light side, but I have no intention to betray those I care about or make them unhappy."

"So you would rather You-know-who once again wages war on the whole Wizarding World than speak up to your so-called friends?", a voice in Harry's back called out- he didn't bother to turn around before he answered: "No, Voldemort signed this contract which bound me to him by marriage, but with it he also agreed to leave both the Wizarding and the Muggle World in peace. We can't break the contract without experiencing so much pain that we would at least be out cold for more than two days straight, meaning should he decide to revive the war our world would have enough time to react. And if you're honest we never stood much of a chance against him in the first place. I told him that if he killed one more person, I will kill him and I intend to keep this promise."

"What's with you and Dumbledore then and who performed that spell?", a seventh year with a big tooth gap between his front teeth asked, but for the first time it sounded more curious than aggressive.

"He lied to me about my parents, about my godfather and about myself", Harry sighed tiredly, "He tries to control me and mend me into his perfect little tool. I can't accept that anymore and I don't trust him. Today he once again attacked both me and Voldemort verbally, risking him to lose his temper. Maybe I shouldn't have done what I did, but I don't regret it and would do it again most likely. It was a simple spell and not dark or dangerous. It will wear of in several days."

Some people snickered as they recalled the image of Dumbledore, the garden gnome.

"Why did you ignore him the first part of this week and then suddenly let him kiss him like you loved him dearly", Padma asked, proving that she shared the gossiping genes with her sister, "And do you love him?"

"We had an argument- a rather nasty one, maybe those who were in Voldemort's class on Monday gathered that much from our conversation", the Gryffindor answered, blushing lightly, "We're in a unforeseen and not exactly welcome situation and it is his fault, though I might have overreacted, but he apologised to me and he tries to help me. And I forgave him- after all I can't stay angry with him for the rest of my life, now can I? And to the second question, I don't think I love him but I came to see him as a human being rather than a maniac mass murderer and most of the time he seems to care about me and respects me..."

"What, You-know-who apologised to you, the boy-who-he-couldn't-kill", someone asked astonished, "He really must care about you..."

"That's what I think", Harry returned, "But he's the heir of Slytherin and though I don't agree with the general opinion that all Slytherins are bad, they are masters of masks and I'm pretty sure, he has an ulterior motive. But at the moment I will just accept his behaviour and hope that I have enough time to react when he reveals his true intentions."

The room lapsed into a pondering silence until Harry got up from his chair: "Well, if you have no more question I will go and I hope that you will use your brains in the future because judging someone by his acquaintances is just stupid."

"Just one more question", Michael spoke up, "Will you resume the DA?"

Harry frowned: "Why would I? From what I gathered from Voldemort's lesson plans his classes should be quite salutary. Is he so bad a teacher?"

"No, not really", the other boy replied, "But it's kind of contradictory when we learn how to defend ourselves against the Dark Arts from a Dark Lord."

"The DA was founded because last year we had no means to really learn anything", Harry gave back, "I think Professor Riddle is quite apt to teach us at least something and so at the moment I have no intention of starting it again, but I haven't really been to his class yet and I would like to get a picture of it before I make a final decision. Though if some of you have any complaints or just want to learn something else as well, tell me and I'll see what I can do..."

"That's sounds acceptable", the head-girl Sophie Sweetin answered for the whole group, "Thanks for your visit. We'll think about your answers and decide whether or not you can be trusted, expect our answer in the next few days."

Harry inclined his head as a sign that he had understood and took the words as his cue to get some rest in his own house for the first time this year.

Neville was already fast asleep, as was everyone else for that matter and so Harry concluded that the need to speak with him couldn't have been this urgent and after several warding, silencing and security spells he crawled into his red and gold four-poster bed, drawing the curtains shut and went to sleep at least for a few hours.

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