Chapter Text
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Tom's smirk disappeared. Jaw tight, frustration simmering, he headed for his office.
The memory of those emerald eyes, which seemed to burn with hatred and anger, lingered in his mind. Harry had changed more than Tom had anticipated, and the realization left him with a discomfort he couldn’t quite bring himself to face.
As he approached the large double door, a small pop interrupted his thoughts. Mindy, his head house elf, appeared at his side,
“Master Lucius has arrived. He awaits you in your chambers.”
Tom paused, his expression hardening.
He had completely forgotten it was the weekend, when, as always, Lucius was expected to visit. However, he wasn’t prepared to share anything about Harry’s reappearance, especially not with him. Lucius’s jealousy toward Harry had always been a source of amusement, but Tom didn’t have the patience for it now.
“Very well,” he said curtly, dismissing Mindy with a wave of his hand. Turning on his heel, he strode toward his apartments, trying to quell the storm brewing inside him.
Pushing open the door to his private sitting room, he was greeted by the sight of Lucius lounging on one of the sofas, the picture of effortless Malfoy elegance.
His pale blond hair was tied back with a leather band, though a few strands had slipped free, framing his sharp, aristocratic features. His pale skin caught the daylight streaming through the tall windows, giving him an ethereal glow, while his thin, pink lips curled into a faintly sly smile.
As always, Lucius was impeccably dressed. A fitted black shirt hung just to his narrow waist, accentuating his lean frame, while perfectly tailored black pants clung to his legs. The ensemble was finished with smooth, polished shoes made of black dragon skin: classic, understated, and entirely Malfoy.
“Well,” Lucius said, his grey eyes gleaming as he looked up at Tom. “You look positively livid.”
Tom didn’t answer right away, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied Lucius’s posture. There was something about the way Lucius carried himself that always irritated him. He seemed to know that his beauty and aristocratic status made him desirable to almost everyone, Tom included, and wore it with an air of certainty.
His androgynous looks added to his allure, with sharp features and an almost delicate frame that contrasted strikingly with Harry’s raw, unpolished beauty. He wondered if his attraction to him was simply because he was the exact opposite of his husband.
Lucius knew he held some type of power over him. Tom, for his part, allowed it, if only because it suited him.
For now.
“What's the matter ?” asked Lucius.
He had to send him away, with Harry and the child so close. However, it was hard to ignore his seductive presence, especially when his mood was already so volatile.
Lucius arched a pale eyebrow at his silence, shifting on the sofa in a way that revealed his collarbones. Tom’s gaze was immediately drawn to the way the light caught on them. The tension in his body deepened. He needed to release it somehow, and Lucius was offering himself on a silver platter.
“Maybe I can help,” he said, his voice smooth.
Tom’s lips curled into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Lucius always seemed to know exactly when to push and when to back off. He had a knack for reading his moods, and today was no different.
“I don't have time for this,” Tom said, though his tone lacked any real conviction.
Lucius's lips twitched into a smile, “You never have time,” he replied teasingly, “Yet you always find a way to make time for me.”
Tom moved closer, his eyes darkening as he loomed over him, “You are playing a dangerous game,” he warned, his voice low and husky.
Lucius grinned wider, his grey eyes gleaming with delight, “I like games,” he murmured, leaning back further on the sofa and exposing his throat, a gesture he knew would only taunt him further.
Tom’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and forcing him to lie back with enough pressure to make him gasp.
Lucius had always enjoyed their dynamic, the way Tom’s dominance asserted itself when they were alone, something he didn’t usually relish. With Tom, though, it was different.
Tom was unique.
His authority, charisma, and beauty stirred something inside Lucius, undeniably enticing him. There was a power in Tom that made him his equal, despite the differences in their bloodlines. Lucius, a noble, should never have considered a half-blood his equal, but Tom being the heir of Salazar Slytherin changed that.
Ever since their days at Hogwarts, Lucius had wanted him. Tom had always been the most coveted and regarded as the “brightest wizard of his age.” And the Malfoys never settled for anything less than perfection.
“Maybe you should rethink testing me now,” Tom whispered, his face inches from Lucius’s, his breath warm against his skin.
Tom knew he should send him away, but for now, he let go, losing himself in the familiar rhythm of Lucius's body. Yet, even as he surrendered to the moment, his mind remained elsewhere, lost in a gaze as deadly as the Avada Kedavra.
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Tom allowed his body to rest for a brief moment on Lucius’s trembling form before withdrawing and standing up. The sudden movement took Lucius by surprise, causing him to open his eyes, still clouded with pleasure.
With a tired but satisfied smile, he asked, “What's going on ?”
“You have to leave,” he said firmly, catching him off guard.
“Why ?”, Lucius inquired, his voice laced with mild disbelief.
“I have too much work to do,” he replied plainly.
Lucius’s face flushed with indignation, his expression quickly shifting to a neutral mask, “Your work never kept me from being here, nor has it ever dismissed me as if I were some insignificant trifle,” he said, his voice meant to be cold, but he could hear the hurt beneath it.
Drained and irritable from a sleepless night, he answered with cool detachment, “Did you have another reason for coming here?”
Lucius fell silent. This was the first time Tom had disrespected him like this.
Seeing the shock in his expression and not wanting to undo all the progress he had made, Tom sighed and softened his demeanor. Leaning in, he kissed Lucius deeply, the kiss meant to convey an apology.
“I have way too much work to do and I know I would not be good company,” he murmured.
Still a little hurt, but reassured that Tom’s anger stemmed from stress, Lucius rose from the sofa. His pale, glistening body, slick with sweat, caught the light, a sight he knew to be intoxicating. He moved gracefully towards the bathroom, but paused as he sensed Tom’s gaze lingering on him.
With a seductive smile, he turned to face him, “Would you perhaps find time to join me for a shower ?”
Tom’s eyes burned with desire, “I suppose I can spare you a moment,” he replied, following him into the bathroom.
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Tom sat on the edge of his bed, dressed in nothing but simple black pants. His chest, still glistening from the long shower with Lucius, was defined by firm muscles, even more visible under his pale skin.Moles dotted his body, a few scattered across his neck and shoulders, while a thin line of dark hair trailed from his belly button downward.
His bedroom was minimalistic and impersonal, with walls painted a deep, muted green that cast a quiet, subdued tone over the space. The dark wooden floor gleamed, and a large rug stretched out beneath the bed, warming his feet. One wall was mostly made up of large windows, opening onto a balcony that overlooked the estate. Heavy, dark curtains framed the view, but the soft afternoon light filtered through, creating an atmosphere of quiet, controlled power.
Exhausted from his intense sessions with Lucius and the sleepless night before, Tom collapsed onto the bed. As he stared at the ceiling, his mind once again ran through the situation.
He knew he couldn’t keep Harry and the child hidden forever. The thought of killing Harry had lost its appeal once he realized the child was his. Through their magical bond, Tom knew it right away.
His heir.
His son.
The idea of having a proper family brought memories of a past he had buried long ago, memories of being as young as his son, yearning for someone to take him in, to rescue him from the orphanage. That longing for a family had now materialized.
He now had an heir, securing the preservation of his bloodline and the continuity of Salazar Slytherin's legacy. Of course, he could always kill Harry, but the notion of depriving his child of a parent, something he had once wished for himself, unsettled him. It was a feeling he couldn’t quite place, and it made him resent Harry for stirring it up.
Resolved to manipulate the situation to his advantage, Tom decided to exploit Harry’s supposed amnesia. He would let the public believe they had been kidnapped, a plausible story, given the enemies he had.
As for the child, that would be easy enough to manage. He would present himself as a devoted husband who had kept the pregnancy secret to protect his family, a perfectly reasonable explanation, considering the complexities and danger of male pregnancies.
If any investigation was needed, he would put Rabastan and his team of Aurors in charge. Finally, Tom allowed himself to relax. The weight of his thoughts slowly faded as sleep began to claim him, his mind settling into quiet darkness.
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