Chapter Text
So, Potter had a spawn with an unknown woman, Tom mused to himself. The nobles were all abuzz with the news, all with varying responses.
Most voices had expressed their surprise at the news, stating how Harry seemed so polite and reserved. They would never have guessed that the boy had a secret lover.
Some voices were more malicious, especially that of Vernon Dursley. The man would loudly voice his opinion of the matter at every social function he went to, saying that Harry Potter was a wicked boy as a child, and he was only surprised that more bastards hadn’t popped out of the woodwork. “With morals like that, the boy should be stripped of his Lordship,” the burly man had commented on more than one occasion.
Tom didn’t pay the man any mind; any fool with some sense could tell he was after the Potter-Black fortune. It was too bad for him that the family had already registered the child in the national archives. Ian James Potter was officially Harry Potter and Sirius Black’s heir, and next in line for succession. The Dursleys would be left with nothing now. Such a pity, Tom thought with a laugh.
It did seem quite convenient, though, Tom mused. Dursley had been angling for the past few years to have his son inherit the Potter apothecaries, if anyone had been watching closely enough. Tom’s network had informed him every time they caught Dursley trying to sabotage any relationship Harry Potter had formed with someone of the fairer sex. Then, out of the blue, Harry returned, not with a wife, but with a child. An heir that took away every claim Dursley had over the Potter line. Had that been Harry’s plan all along, knowing that Dursley was making marriage impossible for the young lord?
If it was, Tom applauded Lord Potter’s machinations. It was a brilliantly executed plan that threw Dursley completely off track. But Potter would have to watch his back. Vernon Dursley was most likely getting desperate, and a desperate man was unpredictable. Tom would schedule a meeting with his followers, and assign one to watch Vernon Dursley for any nefarious goings on.
Although he couldn’t have Lord Potter as a husband, the young man would make a good ally.
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“How’s the new baby, Harry?” Fred Weasley asked, elbowing Harry in the ribs. “Getting any sleep at night?”
“I’d say not, Fred,” George Weasley responded with a sly grin. “Those bags under his eyes could hold the contents of a lady’s change purse.” The twins burst out in laughter at the joke.
Harry groaned at the Weasley twins’ antics. While the men were brilliant at inventing new formulas, their jokes bordered on the obnoxious. And with only five hours of sleep under his belt, Harry felt the beginnings of a headache brewing beneath his temple. Harry gave a loud sigh, rubbing at his sore head.
“Let’s stop here,” Harry suggested tiredly. “The solution seems stable, and we can pick it up tomorrow.”
The Weasleys must have heard the weariness in Harry’s voice, as their laughter stopped and they packed up quickly and quietly. When all the ingredients were put away, George turned to Harry, sincerity in his face.
“You want to go to the local pub, Harry?” The redhead asked, voice filled with concern. “You look like you could use some help unwinding.”
Harry shook his head. “No, I want to get home and see Ian,” Harry responded. Yes, he knew that said child was the cause of the bags under his eyes, but something deep and primal within Harry needed to hold his child. Lately, he felt as if some part of him was missing whenever he wasn’t holding his baby. Every time he had to go to work, he would leave as quickly as he could to return home and to Ian.
George looked at him skeptically. “All right, then,” the twin responded dubiously. “Go home to that new baby of yours and get some sleep, you hear?” Harry nodded solemnly at the words, and George’s face cleared.
After they finished packing all the equipment away, Harry rushed home. He was greeted by tiny wails as soon as he stepped inside, and Harry ran up to the nursery. There, he saw Marietta Edgecomb, the nanny, trying to soothe a red-faced Ian. Miss Edgecomb’s face broke into a relieved smile when she saw him.
“I’ve been trying to feed him for the last hour,” the woman explained over Ian’s cries, “but he refuses to take the bottle.”
Harry scooped the baby up and Miss Edgecomb passed him the bottle she had been trying to give to Ian. “I’ll feed him, you can go home,” Harry assured the frazzled nanny. Ian must have smelled Harry’s milk, as the baby had quieted and was nuzzling furiously at Harry’s chest.
Miss Edgecomb curtseyed and left the room. As soon as she was gone, Harry removed his shirt and nursed his hungry child.
“You really need to learn to eat from the bottle when Daddy’s not here,” Harry gently rebuked the baby. In reply, Ian gave a small grunt and pulled at Harry’s nipple, causing the omega to wince in pain. “Gentle, gentle,” Harry cried softly. Harry settled himself in the rocking chair, knowing that this was going to be a long feed.
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Marietta’s eyes were wide as she saw her supposedly beta employer feeding his child from his breast. When Vernon Dursley had asked her to snoop around the Potter-Black household, she thought she would have to go through financial documents and find some proof of embezzlement. Never would she have guessed that Lord Potter was an omega masquerading as a beta! Marietta smiled to herself, knowing that Mr. Dursley would be pleased to have such scandalous information about Harry Potter.
But, just as suddenly, Marietta frowned. Could she release such harmful information about her employer? Harry could be jailed, Sirius alongside him for hiding the omega’s true gender. And what would happen to the baby? Ian was innocent in the whole scheme, but he could be taken away from his loving father. There was no doubt in Marietta’s mind that Harry loved his son; she had seen how the omega smiled at the baby and talked with him. There was love in every gesture, every word.
Maybe… she could take this information to someone who wasn’t Vernon Dursley. The man had some personal vendetta against the Potter-Blacks; he would twist the situation into something more sinister, and if Ian were hurt, Marietta was sure the man wouldn’t care.
Marietta would fulfill her end of the bargain. She would tell some authority of the Potter-Blacks’ misdeeds so that they would face some repercussions, but she would not inform Vernon Dursley, the girl decided firmly.
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“Your highness, the local constable would like a word with you- in private,” Tom was informed by his advisor.
Tom’s curiosity was piqued. What on earth would the local constable have to tell him? Some high-ranking noble must have done something quite scandalous, that Tom was getting involved. Rising from his seat, Tom let his advisor know what room to prepare for the chat with the constable.
Twenty minutes later, Tom was speeding toward the training ground, filled with the desire to run someone through with a sword.
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Tom slashed at the practice dummy in fury, imagining it to be the body of one Harry bloody Potter. Tom’s upper lip curled at the thought of the boy- the omega boy. He had made a fool out of Tom and all the nobles, walking around as a beta, leading all the noble girls to think they had a chance of marrying him.
Tom ran his sword through the dummy’s stomach, breathing hard and covered in sweat. He wished he could do the same to the Lord Harry Potter, stab and break the boy for lying all those years.
He had made some sort of concoction that hid his omega smell, Tom surmised. And the alpha wouldn’t be surprised if Lord Potter had passed along his concoction to other omegas, Tom thought angrily, wiping the sweat from his face. Tom had told his father; omegas needed more rights. How many had felt the need to hide their nature because they were afraid of losing their liberties? And now the kingdom was suffering the repercussions.
First things first, Tom needed to capture Lord Potter and force the omega boy to explain just how and what he had used to cover his secondary gender. Then he would make the omega pay.
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“Harry James Potter,” the armoured guard greeted him outside of his home as Harry was heading off to work, “you are being arrested for fraud and crimes against the Crown,” the guard continued without emotion as Harry’s hands were tied behind his back.
“What?” Harry squawked, too shocked to even resist the guards binding him, “what kind of fraud have I committed?”
“We have a witness who claims you are an omega, while you have been reaping the liberties of a beta for the past three years,” the guard explained, a brow raised in challenge.
Harry’s blood went cold. How in the world had he been found out? “That- that’s not true,” Harry protested weakly, licking suddenly dry lips.
“That’s for the judge to determine, not me,” the guard responded coldly, and motioned for the other guards to take Harry into the carriage.
“No!” Harry shouted, trying to yank his arms away from the burly guards holding him, “my son, he needs me! You can’t just take me away from him, I’m the only one he’s got,” Harry choked out. The guards were immovable, as they continued to load Harry into the prisoner’s carriage. “Sirius!” Harry screamed. “Ian!” Harry caught a glimpse of his godfather running out of the house as he was deposited into the carriage and the door was shut behind him.
Harry caught snatches of the conversation between Sirius and the guard, trying to calm his racing heart. Ian was refusing to eat anything that wasn’t Harry’s milk; his child wouldn’t survive without him. Tears started falling down Harry’s face. He had been so selfish, insisting on feeding Ian himself and not hiring a wet nurse. Harry prayed that Sirius would be able to quickly find a wet nurse to feed Ian. If anything were to happen to his little boy, Harry would never forgive himself.
Harry spent the cold carriage ride in silence, alternating between worrying about his son and the family business. What would happen to the ownership of the business now that he was found out? Would Ian still be able to inherit, or would they go straight to the Dursleys? Harry bowed his head in defeat. All those years of plotting, lying, and scheming could be rendered absolutely useless within days.
Harry was taken to the castle, down to the dungeons. “Please,” he said to the guards holding him tightly as if he were some murdering thief that could abscond with the crown jewels any minute, “I’m a father, my son needs me.”
“Every criminal has a family,” the guard to his right sneered, “they never seem to realize that until we’re locking them up.” Harry gave up appealing to their better nature after that. “But if you really are an omega,” the guard said suggestively, squeezing Harry’s bum- Harry’s breath stalled at the feeling. “We might be able to get you a few extra amenities- for a price,” the guard leered at him.
As he was deposited unceremoniously into an empty cell, Harry’s heart was racing for a different reason: fear for himself. If his omega nature were revealed, he would be seen as property instead of as a person. Would they make Harry mate with an unknown alpha? Would Harry even get to see his son again? Harry closed his eyes as tears ran down his face. There were so many unknowns, each more depressing than the last.
Then, another question came unbidden to Harry’s mind as other smells filtered through the stench of piss and feces: how long would his cologne last before the smell of unmated omega wafted through the dungeons? And how would the alphas down with him respond?
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Sirius watched Harry be carted off, after the guard who had restrained him finally let him go. Sirius felt so powerless, unable to do anything to help his godson, and his shoulders slumped in resignation. But they quickly tensed again. Who had tipped off the guard about Harry’s second gender? Sirius quickly ran through the list of people working in the manor in his mind, but none of them came into contact with Harry.
Except one person, the newest staff member: Miss Edgecomb. She saw Harry twice a day, when he left the house in the morning and came back in the evening. She must have seen or smelled something that had tipped her off.
Sirius stormed up to the nursery. Miss Edgecomb was laying Ian down for a nap, so he could only whisper his accusations. “Was it you?” Sirius whispered harshly.
Miss Edgecomb’s face was painted with guilt. “Vernon Dursley helped pay off my mother’s gambling debts,” she explained quietly. “He asked me to find any information I could about you in exchange. But I didn’t tell him!” Miss Edgecomb rushed to explain as Sirius felt his face pale in fear. “I didn’t trust what he’d do with the information, so I only tipped off the local constable.” Miss Edgecomb’s hands were twisted with nerves, and she looked at him with pleading eyes.
Sirius just stood there, mouth agape. He had been betrayed by one of his own staff members. How could Sirius have missed that Miss Edgecomb’s mother had gambling debts? “So you put Harry’s and Ian’s lives on the line just for some coin, Miss Edgecomb?” Sirius asked shrilly. “If you haven’t noticed, Harry’s and my wealth almost outrival that of the King’s! You could have simply asked one of us for help, and we would have set up an easy repayment plan, you selfish fool!” Miss Edgecomb blanched at the harsh words.
Sirius was distracted by a small cry. In his rage, he had forgotten that Ian was sleeping, and now the baby was awake, crying for a father that would never come. Miss Edgecomb moved toward the crib, but Sirius halted her. “Do not touch that child,” he hissed. “Do not pretend to care about his well being when you have all but condemned his only source of nutrition to death.” The woman’s face was ashen as Sirius lifted Ian from the crib. “You are dismissed,” Sirius stated coldly. “Get out of my house, I never want to see you again.”
Sirius vaguely heard Miss Edgecomb’s sniffles as she left, but felt only a hollow weariness as he changed Ian’s soiled nappy. What was he going to do? The man wondered worriedly. He needed a lawyer, first. He needed to get Harry out of jail- or the dungeon, Sirius realized, insides twisting as he recalled it was the royal guard that had come for Harry, not the local constable. But as he held Ian, the babe’s face turned toward his chest, sniffing for milk that wasn’t there. Sirius’s heart fell as he remembered Miss Edgecomb having difficulty getting Ian to nurse using the formula they were still developing.
Ian would starve and die without Harry, Sirius realized with dread. Suddenly stiff fingers curled around the baby, holding him close. Sirius would not let him die. There was only one thing to do. Turning quickly, Sirius left the nursery, put on a cloak, and called for a carriage.
He had to see the King. If needed, Sirius would beg, give up his titles, and all his money, just so Harry could be free and be reunited with his child.
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Tom held the child, Ian, in his arms as he descended to the dungeons. Although Lord Black had explained Lord Potter’s need to hide his second gender, Tom still felt a rush of anger at the betrayal. He had refused to let the man see his godson, in case they concocted some new nefarious plan to hoodwink the Crown. Although Lord Black had finally been truthful, he had proven himself untrustworthy. Tom decided that he would be the one to bring Lord Potter the child, and he would see if their stories matched up.
The usual foul stench of the dungeon greeted Tom’s nose the further down he trodded. Even the child seemed to be offended by the stench, as he was rousing in Tom’s arms. This was the first time in Tom’s life that he had held a baby. He had been certain that the thing would wake and wail as soon as he was in Tom’s arms, but both he and Lord Black were surprised when the baby simply sighed and snuggled into Tom’s chest when Tom took him in his arms.
As Tom drew near to Lord Potter’s holding cell, the baby became more distressed as he realized that Tom had no milk to offer the thing. Its mouth opened and let out a plaintive cry. Down the hallway, Tom heard a gasp and quick scuffling.
“Ian!” Tom heard Lord Potter cry, as pale hands wrapped around iron bars. By the time Tom reached Lord Potter’s cell, the baby was crying loudly for food. “Please, give him to me,” Lord Potter pleaded, not even looking at Tom, but at his child. A tongue darted out to lick shapely lips. Lord Potter’s hair was dishevelled, sparking a sense of recognition in the prince. Tom shook his head to clear it of the observations. Now that he knew the boy was an omega, Tom seemed to be finding everything attractive about Lord Potter. Wordlessly, Tom handed off the wailing child. Tom watched with rapt attention as Lord Potter pulled down his shirt, exposing a pale, soft chest. Tom’s mouth went dry as he eyed Lord Potter’s exposed collar bone, and he swallowed harshly in response.
Finally, the baby stopped crying, and started suckling greedily at Lord Potter’s chest. Tom’s jaw clenched as he was met with the undeniable truth that Lord Potter was most definitely an omega, and not a beta as he had led everyone to believe.
“Why did you do it?” Tom asked harshly, wanting to hear the omega’s side of the story.
Lord Potter looked up quickly at Tom’s words, and the omega’s eyes widened as he realized who was in front of him. “Your Highness,” Lord Potter demurred, bowing the best he could, as he was still nursing.
“Rise, Lord Potter,” Tom gritted out irritably, “focus on your hungry child first.”
Lord Potter quickly straightened up and continued nursing the hungry babe. He was silent at first, just holding his child and stroking his face reverently. In a quiet voice, the omega explained the same set of situations as Lord Black, of a boy wanting to keep ties to his father’s line, and trying to conceive when he realized that his mother’s lazy nephew would be the one to inherit his family business if he had no heir. “We never meant to hurt or betray anyone,” Lord Potter said beseechingly at the end of his tale. “Looking back now, one lie just kept leading to another.”
Tom remained silent, thinking. By this point, the baby had finished feeding and was reaching a small hand toward his father. Lord Potter smiled down at the child, eyes wet.
“Please don’t take him from me,” Lord Potter pleaded in a small voice. “He never did anything wrong; he’s just an innocent child.”
“What of his other father?” Tom asked curiously.
Here the omega colored slightly. “I never knew his name. We met a couple of times at the cyclical hospital on the eastern side of the city. Our faces were always covered.” Tom stiffened and his heart rate increased, knowing exactly which cyclical hospital Lord Potter was talking about. Sweaty palms wrapped around the iron bars of Lord Potter’s cell as Tom leaned forward, trying to get a closer look at the child in the omega’s arms.
“Did he give you a name?” Tom asked, gaze searching Lord Potter’s green eyes for any sign of a lie.
Lord Potter shook his head. “We just used pseudonyms,” the omega explained. “He only went by Lord Voldemort.”
Tom’s heart was thundering so loud that he was sure the whole dungeon could hear it. The normally eloquent prince was at a loss for words. He could only stare at the child that Lord Potter was holding- his child- in wonder. Finally, Tom cleared his throat. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” Tom commented, voice sounding a little rough. At the questioning look from Lord Potter, Tom continued, “the baby could have stayed with his father until your trial. As it is, we’ll keep him here. We will hire only the most reputable nannies,” Tom spoke louder, upon seeing Lord Potter about to protest, “and I will bring him down here personally for feedings.”
Lord Potter looked at him sullenly as the baby lifted his head, and deftly transferred the child to feed from his other breast. Tom was impressed at how the omega handled the child. “Why can’t my child stay with his own father?” Lord Potter challenged. “Do you know how often he feeds in a day?”
“Do you wish for your child to stay in the dungeons until my parents get back from their journey?” Tom parried, a brow raised.
Lord Potter looked at him beseechingly. “Can’t I stay locked in some room of the castle? Or under house arrest?” The lord begged.
Tom shook his head sadly as he pulled back from the bars. “No,” he responded. “While yours is a… unique case, it is due process to keep all offenders in the dungeon until your trial.” While that was true, Tom probably could have bent some rules to allow the omega and son to stay in their home until his parents returned, but he wanted to keep Lord Potter close. A part of him was terrified that Lord Potter would run away if given the chance. He couldn’t let that happen.
Lord Potter’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “How long until the King and Queen return, then?” The omega asked.
“In about five days,” Tom responded. “I will personally see to it that Ian gets the best caretakers, Lord Potter.”
The omega nodded dejectedly and continued feeding his child in silence. When the babe was done and burped, Lord Potter held the child close, breathing deeply. Silent tears were running down the omega’s face, and he kept murmuring, “I’m sorry, daddy loves you” to the now fed child.
Tom waited until Lord Potter finally relinquished the baby, eager to hold the child now that he knew it was his own son. Tom kept trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was a father and had a child with Lord Potter; his whole world had been completely turned upside down within the span of a few minutes. It was just a few hours ago that Tom had burned with fury at the thought of Lord Potter’s machinations, and now Tom felt practically buoyant that Lord Potter was Prongs of all people, and they had a child together.
While continuing to hold his child, Tom called for his butler and had the man look for a competent nanny immediately. Then, Tom penned a letter as some maids looked after the child and had the fastest courier he knew send it to his parents in the neighboring kingdom of Hogwarts, where they were visiting King Dumbledore.
With any luck, Tom’s parents would be home within a few days, and he and Ian would be reunited with Lord Potter soon.