Disclaimer: By now, we should all be aware of the fact that J.K.Rowling owns the characters from the Harry Potter books...
Author's Note: #sniff# That's it! The very last part! #sob# I thank everyone for reading this far and for all the wonderful and encouraging reviews I got. You are great and I can't thank you enough for supporting me like this.
I will repost the first chapters after they are betaed. On that note, a very, very big thank you to Leianora, who helped me to make my chapters more understandable and found countless mistakes before I had the chance to embarrass myseld and who offered to go over the beginning as well.
Enjoy the epilogue! Oh, and because I was in a good mood and thought you deserved a little farewell present this chapter contains LEMONS!
The Dark Lord hated environmental pollution. He hated orange- it clashed horribly with his eyes. He hated Muggles and the supposedly good ideas they had. He hated small-time criminals. He hated plastic bags and waste. He hated cars and he hated lorries even more.
Although he hated all those things, he loved Harry Potter. Harry thought he should make amends for his earlier deeds; so he now fought through the bushes lining the autobahn, wearing a pair of orange overalls and picked up the waste thoughtless Muggles had thrown out of their car windows just so that the courts could condemn as good as innocent people to picking it up again. According to Harry it was supposed to help him with his guilt- he had wisely refrained from telling him that he didn't feel in the least guilty, for it had got him what he wanted most in the whole world. According to Harry it was unfair that people like Black or the Lestranges had spent half their lives in Azkaban, while he had never even given an apology, which he had agreed to and apologised to Harry, who quite astutely pointed out that it wasn't a sincere apology. So instead he argued that wandering as a bodiless spirit wasn't the best of experiences, either, and for a split second he was sure Harry would give in. He had had this look. But then instead he swatted him over the head and told him that it was his own fault and that he shouldn't make such a fuss because of a bit of social work.
Oh, yes, he hated Simon because he had arranged all of this. He was now working with Muggle criminals who looked as disgruntled as he did. Half of them hadn't washed in several days and the other half probably never used a shower, adding to the general smell of waste gas and their supervisor's cheap aftershave. The Muggles working alongside him all tried to look as dangerous as possible. The stronger and more ruthless ones bumped into anyone, who then either bumped back, starting a fist fight, until the watchdogs broke them up, condemning them to several more hours and sent them to opposite sides, or ignored the bumper, marking them as easy prey.
Harry had taken his wand, but nonetheless Tom had earned the respect or rather the fear of the other criminals with a bit of wandless magic and martial arts. No-one dared to come near him after that, which was all right with him and enabled him to mentally curse everyone he could think of.
He hated Lucius because the smirk on his face seemed to be frozen in place and because he made highly inappropriate suggestions, concerning his and Harry's sex-life, which truth to be told was more of a myth than anything, every time he absolutely didn't expect or need it, like for example this morning, leaving him with a little problem when he thought about it during the ride here.
He hated Black because the Animagus loved to tease him with acting like his father-in-law and because there was absolutely no way he could curse him.
He hated Draco, Blaise and Ron because they had the fortune to have lunch with Harry, while he was forced to pick up his 86th can. He also hated the whole Weasley clan because they still made Harry nervous, though Harry denied it vehemently, and because he knew exactly that after a meeting with any member of the Weasley family Harry would shy away from him or worse yet cry for hours because he couldn't overcome his fears.
He hated Granger and the Weasley girl for obvious reasons and he made a point to visit them at least once a month (without Harry's knowledge of course) and demonstrate them his loathing. He had Percy's permission for it, too, and so he was slightly grateful to the Minister of Magic, although he scared Harry just like every other Weasley.
He hated the Dursleys because they had worked years to destroy every ounce of self-esteem Harry had ever possessed, causing him to think that he wasn't worth anyone's positive attention.
He hated Dumbledore more than anyone else and since practically everyone in the Wizarding World shared this sentiment there hadn't been one tear shed when his death had been reported on the front page and all the shops selling Filibuster's Fireworks and other party equipment had a record turnover. But he still hated him, because even the vampires' sentence was far too lenient in his eyes for how much pain he had caused Harry and his death didn't really help Harry to get better. And he hated Dumbledore because he didn't have to see how much Harry suffered, how much harm he had done. And even if he could see the delicate young man from his place in the deepest level of hell, he wouldn't feel anything but satisfaction. And for that he hated him.
He decided he should pay Azkaban a visit after his shift was over, which was- he checked the watch Harry had got him, the only reason he carried it- in five minutes. He straightened up, dropped the 104th can in his plastic bag and brushed off his orange overalls.
"I'm done," he declared, walked over to the supervisor and put the plastic bag onto the load area of the truck.
"There are still several minutes..." the grey-haired Muggle trailed off uncertainly as he saw red eyes flashing dangerously, "but you've done good work, Riddle. You may go."
Tom snorted and nodded sharply at the Muggle, making clear to everyone that it had been his decision, and walked to the parking lot, where their bus was waiting. He signed his name on the sheet of paper the driver handed him and took a seat near the back, where he had put the things Harry had deemed necessary: A bottle of water (he gratefully took a swig from it, trying to get rid of the furry taste in his mouth), an apple and two cheese sandwiches (though Harry had obviously been in a hurry because he had forgotten to put cheese on his sandwiches), the book he was currently reading to shorten the rides, the cell phone Harry had got him so that he could call in case of an emergency. In his opinion it would have been much easier to just let him keep his wand, but Harry didn't want to hear anything of that idea and had pushed him out of the door.
Gradually his fellow criminals arrived in dribs and drabs, some vocalising their displeasure and the general unfairness of the world while others just quietly took their seats. When the supervisor and his watchdogs got into the bus, the driver started the motor and slowly brought them back to the administration office, where everyone had to get a stamp for the hours they had worked today.
Harry had more or less convinced him that two-hundred hours of social work would be a great idea. So far he had worked fifty-six hours, today included, and he was close to cursing Harry. Close, but not quite there because every time he was close Harry would do something incredible for him or merely look at him with those pleading eyes and all his anger would wash away.
He sighed in relief when he finally reached the small cottage on the outskirts of this sleepy village from where he could floo back home. If Harry wasn't there yet he could get his wand and pay a visit to some dear friends of his.
But Harry was home. He lay near the fireplace, waiting for him, a plate of cookies as company, fast asleep. Those were the things that persuaded Tom that it was all worth it, that told him that eventually everything would be fine.
"Hey, precious", he carefully approached the sleeping boy, gathering him in his arms, when he got no response.
Harry was always tired these days, but at least he slept more peacefully, especially when Tom was watching over him. The red-eyed man carefully carried the still too thin young man upstairs, debating whether he should bring him to his room or to the room they shared, but since Harry had started sleeping with him in one bed several months ago, he decided on their room, tenderly tucking the former Gryffindor in.
"What are you doing to me, Harry?" he murmured softly, getting up to take a shower.
"Am I doing anything?" Harry blinked his eyes open slowly, staring up at him in confusion, "I'm sorry."
"What did I say about saying sorry?" he raised his eyebrow expectantly.
"That you're the only one allowed to say it in this house." Harry smiled lightly, "How did I get here? I wanted to wait for you."
"You did, you just fell asleep." he sat back down next to his husband, gently brushing away some of the black strands, "How was your day? Did you have a nice time with your friends?"
"Yes," Harry snuggled into him, nuzzling his hand, "Ron and Charlie were both there and I'm feeling good."
"I'm glad to hear that." Tom softly kissed his forehead, "Are you really okay?"
This was the only rule he insisted on. No more lies. No more half-truths. No more secrets.
The green-eyed boy nodded. "How was work?"
"Dirty, annoying and over all very irritating." his face darkened, "I still don't understand why you force me to do this."
"Because you said you would do everything for me."
"Don't you think I have other qualities than picking up waste?" he scowled down at the slight wizard.
"Of course you have," Harry pulled him down so that he could rest his head on the broad chest, "And I'm really grateful you're doing this for me, Tom, but you can stop, if you hate it so much."
"I'll do it, if it makes you happy," he brushed his lips over Harry's, "but now I really have to take a shower..."
Harry blushed, but wouldn't let go: "Can I shower with you?"
"You know, I would be delighted." he once again lifted the smaller wizard up, carrying him to the bathroom and sitting him down on the toilet seat, "Shower or bath?"
"I have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey in an hour."
"Shower it is then." Tom nodded, "Don't you feel good, Harry? Is something wrong?"
"It's just my monthly check-up." Harry shrugged nonchalantly, allowing Tom, who had already stripped off his overalls, to take off his clothes, "You know how she is..."
"I know that generally, when someone is worried about you, they have a good reason to be," Tom chuckled and Harry swatted him on the arm before leaning against him. "Will you come with me?"
"I love nothing more than to take care of you, Harry." he skipped down, nibbling Harry's bottom lip, teasing it, until Harry's mouth opened slightly, allowing him to explore the hot cavern, "Well, okay, I like kissing you even more," he pulled back slightly, looking down at the smaller boy, tracing the slender, lightly muscled body before him with reverential, gentle strokes, "and touching you and doing wicked things with you."
"I like that, too," Harry blushed brightly, but didn't pull back, which Tom took as a good sign.
He admired the enticing figure in front of him, only clad in a pair of panties Tom had bought for him and he knew that Harry only wore them to make him happy, which made him appreciate the sight even more. Shy, soft hands distracted him from his watching and he looked down into Harry's bright green eyes, returning his smile.
"I love those panties," he murmured, hooking his thumbs under the waist band, "but I'd still rather have them go. May I?"
Harry nodded timidly, pressing closer to Tom's hard body, wriggling a little as the older wizard pushed the skimpy article of clothes down his slender legs. Moments after he had stepped out of his panties he felt himself scooped up and carried to the shower, the soft spray of water sending droplets running over his face, down his back and stomach.
They spent a brief moment like that, merely enjoying being so close together, before Tom gently kissed the little drops away from Harry's face, not liking in the least how they reminded him of tears and Harry purred contently, reaching around Tom for the shower gel.
Tom reluctantly loosened his hold as Harry pushed lightly against his chest and carefully set him back down on his own two feet. Harry grinned up at him and then stepped around him, squeezing some of the shower soap in his hands, and slowly massaged it into Tom's tense shoulders.
The Dark Lord groaned, bracing himself against the tiled walls as Harry's small hands diligently worked their way down his back, kneading his taut muscles and rubbing the soreness away. He heard Harry getting down on his knees behind him and already wanted to tell him that he should get back up because it couldn't be very comfortable, but was distracted as Harry continued his ministrations soaping his legs, paying special attention to his feet, slowly working his way up again until Harry's hands eventually landed on his buttocks and then reached around him.
Tom growled softly as Harry sidled back between his arms, dropping his hands to lightly rest on Harry's hips as Harry also covered his front with the soap. Just as Tom had hoped that Harry would finally take pity on him and tend to his straining erection, Harry instead took his right hand between his smaller ones and began to very thoroughly wash them of the dirt and grime from his work. He then turned to his other hand, repeating the process with the same care.
"Are you teasing me on purpose, my sweet?" Tom murmured and captured Harry's hands.
"Sometimes," Harry smirked at him, putting his arms around Tom's neck.
"Then are you prepared to take the consequences?" the red-eyed man challenged.
Harry nodded shyly, pressing his lips to the older man's, relieved to get a response immediately. He purred happily when Tom's hands glided over his body while his tongue mimicked the movement in his mouth and he felt the chuckle vibrate through Tom's chest.
"You are so beautiful, kitten," Tom moaned, kissing Harry's sweet spot behind his ear and making the small boy mewl in bliss, "I love you."
"I love you, too, Tom," Harry pressed even closer to the taller man, "and I'm not afraid anymore."
Tom pulled back, shocked. "Does that mean you were scared the last few times? Harry, why..."
"Oh, hush," the green-eyed wizard chastised him, "you worry too much. It felt good, you were great and I was a bit nervous, but now I'm not anymore, okay? You make me feel safe and I know you'll never hurt me. I'm happy, now let me make you happy as well..." he drew the older man down and kissed him again before gently rocking against him, causing him to moan in pleasure, "Am I making you happy?"
"Yes, more than you'll ever know," Tom groaned.
Harry lifted his right leg, wrapping it around Tom's waist, bringing them even closer together. They both gave a moan at the friction: Harry's a barely audible mewl, Tom's a low guttural sound. The older man gently pressed their lips together before he carefully lifted his small husband into his arms, pushing him against the shower wall, making sure that Harry was comfortable, as he continued.
A wandless Summoning Spell later, Tom held a jar of lubricant in his hands and liberally coated his fingers with the viscous liquid. He teasingly circled Harry's entrance with one finger until Harry was arching into his touch and then slowly pushed in. Harry whimpered as his muscles were uncomfortably stretched, but that soon turned into a mewl when Tom slowly pressed deeper while at the same time rubbing his stomach.
"God, more," he pleaded, throwing his head back, exposing his throat to let Tom nibble down on it when Tom's finger brushed against that spot inside of him.
"You can call me Tom," the Dark Lord chuckled even more when Harry growled in displeasure, but obediently added a second finger, twisting sharply and making Harry cry out in pleasure as he hit his prostate once again.
He loved seeing Harry like this, though he hadn't had the pleasure very often since their honeymoon. First Harry had gone back to school and though he still held the Defence position, Harry hadn't felt safe enough to allow him such intimacies so that such contact had been limited to the holidays and even then it had been a rare occurrence. To be honest, it wasn't Harry's doing alone. Tom had made quite clear that he was not interested in pressuring Harry into anything that he wasn't ready to do and had pleaded with Harry to not do anything that he would later regret and for which he would have to blame himself. So that had resulted in the fact that Tom could count these occurrences on the fingers of one hand, though Harry had made sure to compensate him otherwise.
A slow smirk spread over his face as Harry arched into him, his hands tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. For once Harry was more affected by what they were doing than he himself was- well, maybe not more, but at least to the same degree- and he was glad that Harry finally seemed to be able to enjoy himself without reservations and let himself go. The delicate boy mewled and begged and arched into his touch. His hair was wet, his eyes lidded in pleasure, his breath came in shallow gasps and his legs would have slipped from Tom's waist if the older man hadn't looped one arm under Harry's thighs. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over Tom and he himself wasn't quite sure if those were entirely his own feelings.
"I want you in me, now," Harry panted, "please, Tom..."
Who could resist such a plea? He certainly couldn't, but he still slid in with due care, soothing hands stroking Harry all the while.
All his previous anger was forgotten as he felt the familiar heat engulf him, when he heard his name, whispered against the shell of his ear, while Harry desperately clutched to him as he pushed into his little lover.
"More, Tom," he moaned and the red-eyed man complied, accelerating his thrusts, going a bit deeper with every one, but still careful to not hurt Harry.
He was losing control. He knew it, even before Harry moaned directly in his ear. His thrusts became more forceful and slightly irregular as he felt himself nearing his climax, but Harry didn't seem to mind in the least and clutched his wet body, panting in his ear.
"Let it go, Tom," he whispered, "I'm fine."
He came with one loud shout, spurting his semen into his smaller husband, just as Harry reached his climax, coating both their bodies with his semen. Tom barely had enough energy left to support Harry and himself and carefully let the smaller wizard down, the arm around his waist keeping him upright as the pleasure slowly ebbed away to be replaced by a feeling of satiety and contentment. He leaned his forehead against Harry, watching through lidded eyes as Harry tried to regain his breath.
"What was that, Harry?" Tom asked, surprised, turning off the water and reaching for a towel, "You acted like a little nymph..."
"I wanted to tell you something." Harry allowed Tom to wrap the towel around him, wincing slightly, but appeasing Tom immediately with his smile, "There's another reason why I have to see Madam Pomfrey today."
"Are you ill, Harry?" Tom asked, alarmed, lifting Harry out of the shower, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"No, I'm not ill," Harry swatted him over the head once more, "but you should really learn a Contraception Charm, Mister, I thought you learned from it last time."
"You're pregnant?" Tom asked, preparing himself for the tongue-lashing he would certainly receive.
Harry nodded uncertainly. "Are you angry?"
"No, Harry," Tom hugged him tightly, "I'm certainly not angry, I'm just worried what you'll do to me now. I totally forgot the charm; I thought it was impossible for you, after what happened. I'm sorry."
"I thought so, too, but I'm kind of happy, you know? If you had known you wouldn't have let me get pregnant until you thought I was absolutely fine again, maybe never. But I am fine, Tom, and I want this child, our child." Harry looked pleadingly at him, "Don't say again that I should abort it," Harry begged urgently.
Tom nodded, caressing his face. "I did learn some things. I'm looking forward to having a child with you; I just wished we could have waited a bit longer, till I'm convinced as well that you're completely okay again..."
"I'm okay, Tom," Harry smiled happily, "let me show you." he disentangled himself from Tom's half embrace and lay down on the dark green plush carpet, "Come."
"Harry..." Tom tried to argue, but the small Gryffindor only smiled at him and reached one arm up at him, until he finally gave in and moved to hover over his green-eyed husband.
"I practised with Luna and Pansy and the others, even with Ron and Charlie." Harry smiled triumphantly, "I wanted to surprise you."
"That certainly worked out." Tom smiled back in relief, "I'm so proud of you."
"Thank you," Harry returned, "Will you allow me to keep the baby?"
"Harry, you don't need my permission." Tom replied in shock, "I already said that I want this baby, but it is your decision. Why do you think that I would forbid it?"
"You weren't exactly happy about my last pregnancy." Harry whispered, "I thought you would perhaps not want to risk losing me again. I know how worried you were the last time, I could feel it. And I don't want you to worry and I want you to decide with me. Don't leave me alone, Tom, please don't leave me alone."
"Of course, I was worried about you, little one. You are so frail and fragile and I was afraid you would die." Tom whispered, "I'm worried now, too, but you are in far better health and you are older and out of school. I firmly believe that you will make it. I can't stop worrying, but I trust you. I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with you alone, to have you all to myself, but I also know how much you want children and I look forward to watching you being a parent, to being a parent myself. Whatever you decide will be fine with me as long as it is what you want."
"I want this child, Tom," Harry said immediately.
"Then I will do everything in my power to make sure that nothing will go wrong, kitten," the red-eyed wizard smiled, "Is there anything I can do right now?"
"Would you mind getting up? The floor is kind of cold..." the younger man asked.
"We should go to Madam Pomfrey, anyway," Tom agreed and helped Harry up, wrapping him in one of the towels and dried him off, "I can't believe we're having a baby."
"I can't believe I got such a great husband," Harry returned, "Promise that you'll never leave me."
"I promise," Tom skipped down to kiss him, "even if you demand I do more social work."
"Is it wrong that I want a bit of justice for my parents?" Harry asked softly.
"No, it's not, precious." the red-eyed man assured him, "You know, I only complain so much because I hope you will compensate me a little..."
"How Slytherin of you!" Harry laughed, "Was this enough compensation for today's shift?"
"Why? Are you offering more?" Tom teased him lightly, delighting in the light blush that graced Harry's features, "I had the feeling you were enjoying yourself as well."
"I'm sorry I lost control," Harry hid his face in Tom's chest as he realised his mistake.
"You don't have to apologise. I don't want you to apologise." the Dark Lord replied firmly, "I love you just the way you are now and I don't want you to be ashamed or unsure of even the smallest part of yourself. It was great to feel you like this, to know that you really want me, too."
"Of course I want you. I only want you," Harry replied as Tom gently started to dry his hair. "That's good to know, my Harry. No-one will ever touch you like this; I will make sure of that. You will be mine forever, understood?"
"Yes," Harry merely smiled as Tom's arms tightened possessively around his waist.
"And this little one is mine also." Tom continued, caressing Harry's stomach, "How far are you along, kitten?"
"I don't know." Harry blushed and Tom raised an eyebrow in confusion, "I fainted at lunch so Draco and Blaise brought me to see Madam Pomfrey. I wanted you to be there. I wanted it to be different than last time. So I told her to wait with the details until you were there as well. I only know that I'm pregnant and that the baby is absolutely healthy."
"Thank you." Tom grinned, "Let's get dressed, okay?"
Harry smiled, quickly slipping back into his panties and his jeans before donning a new shirt because the old one had become wrinkled when he had slept on the sofa, ignoring Tom's dreamy gaze that rested on him.
"Are you ready to go, love?" Tom murmured in his ear, almost shyly placing a hand on Harry's abdomen.
The green-eyed boy gasped in surprise, capturing Tom's hand before he could pull it back. "I could feel the baby! Tom, I never felt this before!"
"What did you feel, precious?" Tom asked excitedly.
Harry closed his eyes, listening to his internal magic: "Happiness and comfort. Tom, this is amazing, you have to feel this."
He turned around in the older man's embrace and guided his free hand to his temple while the other stayed on his belly. The emotions Tom received this time were slightly dimmed and he had to strain to make them out, but they were definitely positive feelings and definitely the feelings of his son or daughter.
"I created life." he whispered in awe, "We created life. I never thought I would ever accomplish something like that. I can't believe it, thank you."
"I thank you, Tom," Harry smiled up at him, caressing his cheek, "for giving me a new life, for giving me the chance of a family, for making me belong somewhere."
Tom swallowed once, trying to get his emotions back under control, but knew that he was failing miserably as Harry chuckled lightly and tugged his arm impatiently. "Let's go, my Dark Lord, or you will have to face the wrath of Madam Pomfrey. And who would then take me out for dinner? I really need some apple strudel soon and ice cream and pancakes and... a pretzel, oh, yes, I definitely need a pretzel now. You know like they had when we were on our honeymoon? Those were great; can you get me one, please? Please?"
Tom just watched on in confusion as his husband enumerated all the things he would like to eat right now and silently reprimanded himself for introducing Harry to things like apple strudel and pretzels and so it took him a while to register Harry's smirk.
"You were teasing me?" he finally asked and Harry burst out laughing. "A little bit," he admitted impishly, "but we really shouldn't keep Madam Pomfrey waiting any longer. I want to ask her if she'd take me on as her apprentice during the pregnancy. I still want to become a healer, Tom, but I know that it's going to be hard and that you wouldn't allow me to start in St. Mungo's right now and I don't want to fall behind."
"Thank you, Harry," the red-eyed man murmured, "I was really a bit worried about that and I would feel better if Madam Pomfrey was there to keep an eye on you. I guess I'll ask Minerva to further my employment at Hogwarts."
"So that you can also keep an eye on me?" Harry laughed.
"So that I can keep an eye on the both of you." Tom corrected him, "You will be well taken care of, precious. I promise."
"I know," Harry answered and he did.
He knew that Tom would always be there for him, would always protect him, would always listen to him and respect and love him for his decisions. He knew that whatever trials they would have to face in the future that Tom would be at his side or in front of him, shielding him from all evil. He knew that nothing and no-one would be able to keep Tom away from him or the other way round and he knew that he loved Tom and was loved in return. And that was really all he needed to know.
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