Chapter Text
Potter had not kept him waiting. Theo was barely settled into the assigned room – pleasant enough, he supposed, although the environment was not his primary concern at the moment – when the door opened.
Father stood with a tall redhead beginning to go bald, probably Arthur Weasley, and Philip Bones, who, Theo gathered from conversation he’d overheard earlier, had recently been elevated to Chief Warlock. The proper formalities were being observed, at least.
The redhead said, “Arthur Weasley. I stand as Harry’s family, and Chief Warlock Bones stands as the neutral party.”
Father held out a phial of red potion. Theo took it and swallowed the salty brew without a word or gesture of emotion, as neither were required of him.
“When we see you next, you will be Harry Potter’s,” said Father without feeling.
Arthur Weasley allowed a brief look of surprise and consternation to cross his face before schooling his features. “Harry will support and defend you,” he pledged. The promise of care, not the reaffirmation of ownership he might have given. Theo was not foolish enough to read much into that choice.
“We will not permit anyone access to you until it is time for him to join you,” finished Bones.
Theo nodded his understanding. Father did not make eye contact again. Moments – and a brief look of compassion from Arthur Weasley – later, Theo was alone in the room as the potion to force heat began to take hold.
This was a two-part potion. A complex and interesting one from the academic perspective, and rather less delightful from the perspective of personal experience.
He’d gone through two heats now, and while neither of them was enjoyable, not least because he was not biologically supposed to be suffering through on his own without an alpha to see him through, the onsets had not brought so much pain when they came naturally over the course of hours. Fortunately there was no one present to hear him gasp in pain as his abdomen cramped violently.
Twenty agonizing minutes later, he knew he was approaching full heat when rational thought began slipping away. He was so achingly empty, so desperately in need of an alpha to fill him, to touch him and claim him and give his existence some purpose, however limited.
He surrendered to the need and threw off his robes. He was far too hot for them, and there was an alpha coming for him.
An eternity later, the door opened. “Alpha,” he said pleadingly.
The alpha started at him for a long moment. “Nott,” he said, voice low, and then he growled, ensnared by Theo’s heat, and tore off his own robes. His cock stood thick and full, and Theo needed it the way he needed air.
Theo whimpered as a gush of wetness flowed out of his body. The alpha liked that very well. He pushed Theo down on his back and Theo cried in relief as the emptiness was finally, finally satisfied. The alpha rutted into him, harder and faster and perfect.
Theo tilted his neck to the right, exposing the aching gland on the left side of his neck. It was swollen, desperate to be broken by the alpha.
The alpha inhaled sharply, grunting and panting as he took Theo until he swiftly bit down, spilling deep inside Theo the same moment he broke the gland with his teeth and made Theo his.
“Mine,” he said.
“Yes,” said Theo, and luxuriated in the exquisite feeling of being wholly filled.
Theo woke up to find he was in a tremendous amount of pain.
He had suffered one headache comparable to this, after an ill-advised evening the previous year when Blaise Zabini realized he was of age and could therefore buy firewhisky in Hogsmeade, and that occasion had led Theo to swear off drinking half a dozen shots of firewhisky ever again. In this case, he’d like to swear off the heat-forcing potions, but that wasn’t his choice, was it?
In fact, his head hurt so terribly it took him a moment to register that his neck also throbbed where Potter had bitten it, his rear was incredibly sore, and most muscles in his body ached. He thought he could therefore be forgiven for taking his time in opening his eyes.
When he did open them, he found Potter’s bright green eyes fixed on him.
“Headache?” asked Potter quietly.
“Yes,” said Theo.
Potter rolled over. They were both, unsurprisingly, still naked, although it appeared Potter had come out of the heat lust earlier and covered them from the waist down with a sheet. The next thing Theo knew, a phial of what looked like Headache Relief Potion was in front of him.
“Here,” said Potter.
If he wanted his first conscious act as Theo’s alpha to be easing a truly excruciating headache, Theo was not about to complain. “Thank you,” he said, and took the phial with weak hands.
“Madam Pomfrey also sent me with salve for your neck,” said Potter while Theo swallowed his potion, “but that should probably wait until after we shower.”
Theo doubted he could stand yet. Besides, his shower would have to wait for some time, as he expected that there would be a large crowd for his display. He simply nodded, though he quickly regretted the motion, as it exacerbated his headache.
“I took a contraceptive potion. Pomfrey’s sure I won’t have gotten you pregnant.”
That was unusual. Then again, alphas were typically older than their omegas and eager for children as soon as possible, where Potter was younger than Theo by three months and could reasonably afford to wait. He’d also less than a week ago been Undesirable Number One, so he presumably had not given a great deal of thought to fatherhood in nine months.
Theo was not sorry to have time to learn Potter before carrying the man’s child. “Thank you for informing me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” asked Potter, baffled. Then he sat up as though remembering something. “Water, Pomfrey said we need water.” He picked up his wand from the bedside table and summoned two glasses of water which had been set on the other side of the room.
With effort, Theo sat up so he could drink and did not wince at the intensified ache it caused in his rear. At least he could feel the Headache Relief Potion beginning to take effect.
“Do you need anything else?” asked Potter.
“No, thank you,” said Theo.
They sipped their water in silence until both glasses were empty.
Theo did not know Potter particularly well. The man was good in a fight, relentless and resolute, and unwilling to let any slight against his friends stand unchallenged. He was talented enough in magic to have qualified for five N.E.W.T. classes, three of which were known to be demanding options and another in which he’d been the acknowledged top of their year. Moreover, he’d managed to constantly elude and finally defeat the Dark Lord, which spoke volumes about his competence.
Having considered what little he knew of Potter for several hours earlier in the day, Theo felt it safe to ask, “How am I to refer to you?” It was a respectful question, and while a particularly strict alpha would object to the asking, Potter had not thus far acted like the kind of alpha who would punish the inquiry.
“Harry,” said Potter without needing to think about it.
It was not uncommon for omegas to refer to their alphas by first name, in general. It was not, however, an option Theo had anticipated from any of the alphas vying to be given him by the Dark Lord.
“What should I call you?” asked Potter.
“You may call me whatever you wish.” Granted, Potter had been raised by Muggles, but he’d clearly presented as a latent alpha, so someone ought to have explained this to him even if Granger hadn’t been in a position to meet her usual standards of research for him.
“But what do you want me to call you?”
Hoping that this wasn’t a mistake, he replied honestly. “Theo.”
He had no claim to the Nott surname any longer, and Theodore was the first name of Theodore Nott – the person he no longer was. If Potter remained agreeable, he could be Theo still.
Potter accepted this with a nod. He had an oval scar on his chest, Theo now noticed. “Do you want to shower first, or should I?”
“Now?” asked Theo hesitantly.
“It doesn’t have to be this minute. Only, I don’t think we should wait very long to put on that salve.”
“You want me to shower before the display?” Theo clarified.
Potter’s face turned thunderous with such speed that Theo cursed himself for angering his alpha in so little time. “We’re only displaying your mark. I will not humiliate you with the rest, and I’ll hex anyone who insists I should.”
The realization that Potter’s anger was on Theo’s own behalf provided a feeling of protection which he relished more than he cared to. A result of being newly claimed, most likely.
Potter had been educated enough to know that it was traditional (although in more recent times, not always done) for the proud alpha to thoroughly exhibit their new omega. Theo had fully expected that he would spend some time on all fours, robes lifted, still covered in Potter’s dried seed and his own slick, presenting himself as Potter demonstrated that he had taken what was his. Any of the Dark Lord’s followers would have done it; it would, in fact, have been a grand social event. To know he wouldn’t have to endure that particular indignity was a great relief.
“Thank you,” he said, finding the words insufficient.
“You haven’t got to thank me for doing the bare minimum anyone would expect from a decent person,” protested Potter. “We’ll show your mark and then I’ll take you home. Kreacher – that’s my elf – is getting a room ready for you.” He suddenly frowned. “Er, my house is… I inherited it, so don’t take the place as what I decided on. I’ll have to do something about that,” he finished to himself.
“Very well,” said Theo, who did not rank home décor among his present concerns.
“Want me to shower first?”
“That would be fine.”
He spent the time of Potter’s quick shower musing that he was incredibly glad Potter had defeated the Dark Lord. To think, that morning he’d merely hoped his alpha would not be Greyback or any of the Lestranges, and now he’d been claimed by one who gave him a potion for his headache and vowed to hex anyone who pressed to witness his degradation.
“I left the salve on the sink,” said Potter as he came out of the bathroom, dressed but barefoot, toweling his hair dry. “Madam Pomfrey said to use it tonight, tomorrow morning, and tomorrow afternoon, a third each time.”
“I will,” said Theo.
While he didn’t expect he’d be able to run, he managed to stand and walk to the bathroom. His overall body aches had receded somewhat as a pleasant side effect of what had clearly been an enhanced version of Headache Relief Potion. The worst pain now was his throbbing claim bite.
He looked at the bite in the mirror. It stood out an angry red at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, with small droplets of dried blood surrounding the imprint of Potter’s teeth, a livid purple bruise already coming in, and a long trail of clear dried fluid where Potter had violently broken his scent gland. It was that act which made Theo his. The bruise would disappear soon enough. The mark would heal with only minimal fading, so no one could ever doubt what the scar signified: he was claimed, dependent, and owned.
Theo had had plenty of time to accept that this would be his life. Most omegas were claimed quickly after presenting, the better to ensure they were safely given to an alpha who provided something of immense value to their family in exchange, not simply stolen away. That Theo had remained unclaimed for months served to demonstrate the Dark Lord’s great power, because only a wizard who commanded exceptional obedience could be sure that no one would dare try to steal an unclaimed omega from him.
That Theo had been offered as a reward for one who pleased the Dark Lord instead of personally claimed by him had been a demonstration as well: it served to emphasize that the Dark Lord was above such mortal concerns as would drive others to covet an omega. At least, that was the intended reasoning. Theo had found himself with a great deal of time to think, quite a lot to reconsider, a dark lord of whom he’d not been fond (Theo had been a blood purist, yes, but he had never aspired to be a murderer or torturer), and in the end, he wondered if perhaps the nose wasn’t the only appendage the Dark Lord lacked.
Regardless, he had known what would happen and what it would mean. All the same, to see Potter’s mark on his neck and know what it meant for him, Theo felt uncomfortably vulnerable. He didn’t care for that, so he stepped into the shower.
The water stung on the wound. Theo didn’t mind because he would walk downstairs clean, displaying only a mark which Potter troubled himself to see was given a healing salve as soon as possible. There would be hundreds of witches and wizards expecting to witness Theo’s complete objectification, and his alpha would not stand for it.
It was far better than Theo had expected the occasion of his claiming would proceed.
He applied a third of the salve as instructed as soon as he’d dried off. While even the lightest touch of his fingers brought discomfort, the salve immediately eased the throbbing, and from the smell of it, included an antiseptic. It soaked into his skin easily.
He wrapped a towel around his waist, took the tin of salve, and returned to the bedroom to find Potter had neatly cut off the neck of Theo’s robes to show off the claim mark as required, with the left side scooped down lower than the right. No part of the mark would be covered.
Theo dressed in the altered robes and his slippers, put the tin of salve in his pocket, and hoped his appearance was satisfactory. He could do little for his hair without a comb, brush, or wand.
“Ready?” asked Potter. “Or do you need to rest longer?”
When Theo hesitated, because his legs were in fact tired and he would prefer his hair to at least be dry, Potter said, “We don’t need to hurry.”
Theo sat on the bed and tried to wring more water out of his hair. He’d not been allowed to cut it after presenting, as his alpha might wish to determine the length of his hair, and perhaps it was pointless to concern himself with that of all things, but as he was to be a prize on display, he would prefer to be one who didn’t have wet, uncombed hair.
Potter watched him for a moment. Eventually, he offered, “If it means that much to you, I can cast a Drying Charm on your hair.”
“That would be welcome.”
One Drying Charm and his genuine thanks later, Theo combed his hair as best he could with his fingers.
“I don’t know any hair spells,” said Potter. “They don’t work for me anyway. People have tried.”
It had been the consensus in the Slytherin dorms that Potter did not care to put any effort into his hair. Certainly he was never seen doing more than attempting to use it to cover his scar, which was particularly remarkable considering his grandfather had invented the country’s preeminent hair potion. Resistance to spells had never been seriously considered.
Theo, who had not expected to be having such a conversation with his new alpha, remarked, “I’m not proficient with them either.”
He’d always favored shorter hair until he had no choice, although he’d come to think that growing it out looked good on him.
Potter ran his hands through his own hair. He’d not changed hairstyles since age eleven, and it stood up in multiple directions as usual. “I’ve decided I don’t like my hair long,” he said. “Too easy for people to grab.”
This was perhaps the most bizarre conversation to ever be held after a claim. It set Theo off-kilter. “I’d not considered that,” he said neutrally.
The wall across from the bed had a mirror. Theo checked his reflection and found his appearance satisfactory for the occasion, since to his surprise he was allowed not to look wholly debauched. He was altogether more presentable with the help of Potter’s Drying Charm.
“Let me know when you’re ready,” said Potter.
Best to get it over with. “Whenever you are.”
Potter stood, though he did not look ready. Theo did the same. After a moment, Potter awkwardly offered his left arm, and Theo fell into place with his arm in Potter’s, pleased that it was this instead of trailing behind his alpha.
Father, Arthur Weasley, and Chief Warlock Bones stood across the hallway, Father not permitted to have his wand, which Theo enjoyed considering that he too was denied a wand. Although perhaps Potter might permit him a lesser one. No, best not to hope for too much.
Theo tilted his neck to the right, the better to show Potter’s mark.
“As you can see,” said Potter, “I’ve claimed him.”
“Yes,” said Arthur Weasley. “That’s quite clear.”
“Indeed,” said Bones.
“He is yours,” agreed Father, doing a fair but not perfect job of hiding that he’d have much preferred Greyback as it would have signified the Dark Lord’s triumph. “Chief Warlock, would you kindly give Potter his omega’s wand?”
Father wasn’t even allowed to touch the wand box to hand it over to Potter, then. Potter accepted the thin box from Bones with strained thanks.
“He requested three of his mother’s books,” Father went on, and picked up the satchel in which he’d carried them. Evidently he’d been granted permission to personally turn those over to Potter, who took the satchel, added the wand box, and slung it over his shoulder. Father concealed his disappointment in not being allowed to watch Potter snap Theo’s wand.
“Let’s go home,” said Potter.
“Home?” repeated Bones in great surprise. Theo was equally confused. Surely the Great Hall was filled with spectators, and even if Potter refused to permit Theo’s abject humiliation with a full display, he would be expected to show off his new omega in some capacity.
“You haven’t displayed him properly,” protested Father.
“I’ve displayed his mark to the three of you. All three of you accepted that I’ve claimed him. That means I’ve done what was required, and now I’m taking him home.” Here Potter turned to Theo. “Unless you want to spend the next hour in the Great Hall being gawked at.”
Theo did not. The longer he stood the more his legs protested, he was exhausted, and most of all he was not eager to be shown off as property in any form. He simply hadn’t thought there was any option to do otherwise.
Potter’s choice to ask his opinion as though it mattered was an interesting way to make his point to the others.
“I will not argue,” said Theo.
Before Father could find words to express his horrified objection, Arthur Weasley declared, “As it is Harry’s decision, I suggest that the three of us make our way to the Great Hall to proclaim our agreement on the claim.”
“You ought to at least display him to a select group,” said Bones.
“No.”
It was only one word, one syllable, even, yet Potter infused it with such a combination of fire, ice, and unquestionable alpha that it said more than a soliloquy. Theo was impressed. And this was before his scent settled, even.
Bones, not a stupid man, hastened to clarify, “I meant his mark only, of course. There are political considerations.”
“I’m taking him home now,” stated Potter. “Thank you for standing as the neutral party, Chief Warlock.”
And with that, Potter led Theo down the hallway until it intersected with another, at which point he softly called out, “Winky?”
An elf became visible. Theo got the distinct impression she had been there all along. She bowed to Potter eagerly, saying, “Winky has been waiting to bring Harry Potter and his omega to Professor Vector.”
“Thank you,” said Potter to the elf. To Theo, he added, “We’re taking the Floo from Vector’s office.”
They followed the house-elf up a set of stairs (Potter generously did not comment on Theo’s unimpressive speed taking them) and through the corridors to Vector’s office. “Here, Harry Potter.”
“Thanks again,” said Potter. “You look… better.”
She nodded. “Winky is being proud to have fought in the battle.”
“You should be,” he said.
If the Hogwarts elves had fought on Potter’s side, Snape had to be dead. It was the only way one of Potter’s allies, likely McGonagall, could have commanded the elves. That was a loss; Snape had been a wizard of great talent. Although he had also been a high-ranking Death Eater, and magical ability was not a relevant consideration in Azkaban, so maybe it didn’t matter now. Theo had spent four and a half months thinking that Snape would be one of the better options for his alpha, both in general and from the shorter list of candidates capable enough that they might actually deliver Potter to the Dark Lord, which likely contributed to his feelings on the man’s death.
While Theo reflected on this, Winky the house-elf bowed to Potter again and hurried off. Potter knocked on the door, and momentarily it swung open, revealing a harried-looking Professor Vector at her desk.
Vector glanced at Theo’s mark. “No difficulties?” she asked Potter.
“Only the objections you anticipated when I said we weren’t doing a public display,” said Potter with disdain.
“Good,” she said.
“Did I do well enough with the offerings?”
Theo had been sequestered in a room until it was time for him to be presented to Potter, so he knew little of the other offerings, barring that Father had given Neffy, the house-elf who had been ordered into motherhood, along with a marvelous telescope and plenty of galleons. He had always liked Neffy and hoped Potter had given her to a suitable home.
“Oh, yes,” said Vector, “you’ve nothing to worry about. In fact, you did so well that I think your unconventional decision to bestow in honor of a house-elf will be forgiven as a minor eccentricity.”
He had bestowed a peace offering in honor of a house-elf? Who would even accept it?
“I daresay you entrusted more to public good than might have been expected,” Vector went on, “as your most important allies, at the least, might reasonably have been given second offerings and you would’ve been expected to keep more for yourself, but it’s in no way bad. In fact, it shows you and your allies as benevolent and not motivated by material gain, so I think it for the best. There is unquestionably much need.”
Potter made no attempt to hide his relief. “Thank you for all of your help tonight, Professor.”
“It’s been my privilege, Mr. Potter. And thank you for including me among your allies. Let me just open the Floo for external travel,” - Vector performed a complex wand movement and then turned a small knob on her fireplace – “and you’ll be able to go home. The Floo powder is on the mantle.”
“We’ll have to go together,” said Potter. “My house is under a Fidelius Charm, so Theo won’t be able to say the Floo address as he’s not a Secret Keeper.”
“You’d best squeeze together, then,” said Vector. “Once you’re in I can cast a charm so I don’t hear the Secret, if you like.”
“I want to dismantle the Fidelius Charm anyway,” said Potter. “If I still need one, it’s going to be a secret Mundungus Fletcher never knows.”
“I can’t fault that,” said Vector. “Still, I should not be so rude as to force you to tell me the Secret to make your way home, Mr. Potter. I shall cast the charm.”
Vector knew her etiquette and customs. She’d been a good choice to advise Potter on the peace offerings.
Once she finished her spell, Potter turned to Theo and said, “The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix are found at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Islington, London.”
Theo had known that the Black family home served as the headquarters for Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix, as his father had spent no small amount of time with Narcissa Malfoy trying to break through the Fidelius Charm. It had not immediately occurred to him that the same house would be Potter’s, but of course it made sense. The Potter home was not an option, and Sirius Black had been his godfather.
Potter took a handful of Floo powder and tossed into the fireplace. It was indeed a tight fit once Theo joined him. Potter wrapped his left arm securely around Theo’s waist before announcing, “Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.”
It was unquestionably the roughest Floo trip of Theo’s life, and he was glad for Potter’s arm around his waist keeping them together. The Floo network had not been designed for two travelers. He was sure he lost a few hairs to the flames along the way.
“Ugh,” said Potter when they landed in what Theo presumed was his fireplace. “Not made for two people, is it?”
“Harry, is that you?” asked a male voice from another room.
“Yes.”
Theo did not immediately see why Potter had felt a need to warn him about the house. He found himself in a long, high-ceilinged room with olive green walls and a dark brown carpet, and his attention was immediately drawn to large windows covered with velvet curtains. On either side of the fireplace stood ornate glass cabinets, and an expansive family tapestry covered one of the shorter walls. While the entirety was old and some of it outdated, it was nothing of which to be ashamed.
“Kreacher’s been cleaning,” said Potter with some surprise. Theo could not for the life of him imagine why anyone would expect otherwise from their house-elf.
A tall, lanky redhead with a scarred face, presumably another Weasley, walked in. “I was able to undo all of Moody’s extra spells. Everything else is solid; Sirius wasn’t exaggerating that this place has every security measure known to wizardkind. You’ll want to remove the Fidelius Charm, though. It’s not just an added security measure, it’s tied in with the rest to let anyone with the secret bypass the others. Tricky work. We’ll want to ask Flitwick for his expertise.”
“After the funerals,” said Potter.
The redhead nodded. “I’m happy to help.”
“Thanks. Theo, this is Bill Weasley. Bill, this is Theo.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Bill Weasley.
“Likewise,” said Theo, inferring that was acceptable.
“If you want, I’ll come over in the morning to walk you through the security measures,” offered Bill Weasley.
“If you don’t mind,” said Potter.
“No. I’d rather not sit around, to be honest. Oh, and the goblins are very pleased, I’m sure.”
“Good,” said Potter. “I really didn’t want to be responsible for another goblin rebellion, so I’m glad you suggested giving them a peace offering.”
A peace offering had been given to the goblins? Theo would never have guessed that, although on reflection, it was less shocking than in memory of a house-elf. Some people were going to be most displeased with the recipient of their former possessions, and he hoped he could satisfy his curiosity on this count eventually.
“You recognized them in the first half of the offerings, for one thing. They’ll have appreciated that. More importantly, you made a good choice for them. I’m glad you thought to give them something dwarf-made.”
“It wasn’t quite that deliberate.”
Bill Weasley raised the eyebrow which wasn’t cut through with a scar. “Lucky guess?”
“Gornock looked as though he really wanted them,” replied Potter.
That got a laugh out of Bill Weasley, while Theo stood there in his own private surprise. “Well, however you decided on it, it worked out. The dwarves dislike letting their weapons fall into the hands of any other races, and have a largely friendly but intense rivalry with the goblins, so the goblins will be pleased to have two dwarf-made daggers in addition to the one goblin-made.”
Oh yes, there was a supporter of the Dark Lord absolutely seething right know from the knowledge that their precious dwarf-made daggers now belonged to goblins. Theo allowed himself to enjoy the mental picture.
“So… they’ll probably forgive us?” Potter asked hopefully.
“After a formal apology from the Ministry, which you’ll need to attend, I expect,” said Bill Weasley, leaving Theo to wonder what exactly Potter needed forgiven by the goblins. “I’m heading out now. See you around nine tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.”
Potter turned to Theo once they were alone in the room and said, “I inherited this house from Sirius Black. My godfather. You heard Bill; Sirius’s father was paranoid, so it’s got a lot of security measures. It’s even Unplottable. Sirius let the Order of the Phoenix use it, hence the Fidelius Charm. Kreacher said he’d get a room ready for you, so I hope it’s okay, and if not we can change it. It’d hardly be the only room in need of renovation,” he finished.
An elderly and bulbous-nosed house-elf wearing a gaudy locket walked into the room. “The rooms are ready, Master,” he said, his voice a deep croak.
“Great,” said Potter. “Theo, this is Kreacher, my elf. Kreacher, this is Theo. I’ve just claimed him.”
Kreacher nodded. He would not bow to Theo, of course. “Kreacher is proud to serve Master and his household.”
“Where’d you put us?” Potter asked.
Did Potter not already have a room in his own house?
“Kreacher has prepared the master suite for Master, of course,” replied the elf.
“I hope you got the hippogriff smell out,” said Potter. Theo’s list of questions grew yet again.
“The beast was in Mistress Walburga’s old room. Kreacher has prepared the master suite for Master, naturally, and the smell of the beast is stubborn but Kreacher will prevail now that he has time to devote to the task.”
“I’m sure you will,” said Potter. “You’ve been cleaning the place, haven’t you? I thought you were at Hogwarts.”
That explained his surprise. He’d thought his elf was at Hogwarts.
“Kreacher has been cleaning since the battle in preparation for Master’s return, when Master has not called for him. For Master’s omega -”
“Use his name, Kreacher.”
“For Theo, Kreacher has prepared the room across the hall from Master’s.”
Potter once again turned to Theo. “It’s late. Do you want to save the tour for tomorrow?”
“Yes, please,” said Theo. His legs would appreciate the respite.
He followed Potter, who followed Kreacher, to a flight of stairs - where he was so shocked he stopped walking. House-elf heads lined the stairwell going down, and Potter’s disclaimer about his house suddenly made an alarming amount of sense.
Potter followed his gaze and sighed. “Kreacher, we’re going to have to work something out for the heads of your ancestors. A proper burial, or whatever you like that doesn’t leave them on the wall.”
“Not burial, no. A funeral pyre, and Kreacher will need time to arrange it if Master will permit, to see his ancestors off properly.”
“Of course,” said Potter. To Theo, he added, “Believe it or not, this place used to be a lot worse.”
Theo sincerely hoped there were no body parts on the walls of the room Kreacher had chosen for him.
“Does Master have any requests when Kreacher shops for food?” asked the elf on the way up the stairs. “Kreacher can buy potions if Master does not care to brew his own.”
“Where are you getting the money for this?” asked Potter, which seemed the kind of information he ought to have known already.
“The safe,” replied Kreacher.
“We have a safe with money in it?” Potter asked. “And Mundungus never found it?”
This Mundungus was clearly a thief. Theo had questions about him, too.
“How did Master think Kreacher bought food, Kreacher wonders.”
“You’ll have to show me the safe,” said Potter, who evidently knew little about his own house for reasons Theo couldn’t begin to guess. “Some basic potions wouldn’t go amiss.”
There was at least one floor above the second. Fortunately for Theo’s legs, discovering how many could wait until morning. He very much wanted to sit down.
“Here is the bathroom,” said Kreacher. Theo noted that important location. “Master’s suite is on the left. Kreacher prepared this room for Theo. Master may choose another, of course.”
The door handle was a coiled metal snake. Even Theo’s father, a proud Slytherin from a family of proud Slytherins, hadn’t been so overt. It was a bit unbecoming, to be honest.
“Let’s see,” said Potter, opening the door and gesturing for Theo to step in first.
He was relieved to note a complete lack of creature body parts on the raincloud-grey walls. In fact, the room was more than adequate. While not as large as his suite in Father’s house, it was spacious enough, with high ceilings, high windows covered with thick charcoal curtains, a large bed made up with grey and black striped bedding, and a full set of bedroom furniture which might have been mahogany. Should Theo wish to see his reflection, he could do so in the oval mirror in an ornate silver frame. In the unlikely event he wanted to see a painting of a snarling Chimaera, there was one on the wall opposite the deep wardrobe.
Renovations would be a benefit if Potter meant the offer honestly, to be sure. The carpet needed replacing due to evidence of a past doxy infestation, the molding around the door frame had more than a few chips, and shades of grey would never be Theo’s color scheme of choice.
“Kreacher hopes Master approves,” said the elf.
“Yes,” said Potter. “This should do well enough for the night, right?” he asked Theo. “Tomorrow you can decide if you’d rather another room.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Potter took the satchel off his shoulder, removed the wand box, and handed the satchel with books to Theo. “I’m going to keep your wand.”
“I never expected otherwise.” It was only the failure to break it which surprised. “Thank you for giving me my mother’s books.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” asked Potter.
As it didn’t sound like a rhetorical question, Theo replied, “Not all alphas want their omega to bring possessions with them.”
“I started as I meant to go on,” said Potter, “and that’s not the kind of alpha I want to be.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I wasn’t expecting you. I’m responsible for you now, and I want to do it properly. I’m not going to steal your books.”
Technically they were Potter’s books, so he couldn’t steal them, but Theo saw no need to say so. Instead, he waited for Potter to lay out his rules and expectations.
“Pomfrey said that forcing heat is a strain on you. Get some rest, sleep in, whatever you need. People keep asking for me, so I might not be around when you wake up. Kreacher can take care of you, right, Kreacher?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. Give us a minute, Kreacher.”
“Kreacher will turn down Master’s bedding,” said the elf, and went off.
“Don’t mistreat him,” said Potter seriously. “If nothing else, it’d be bad for your life expectancy.” He said the last part with a mixture of anger and grief which made no sense when Theo took it as a threat. Then Theo remembered Father laughing over Sirius Black being betrayed by his own house-elf, and the only remaining question was why Potter hadn’t killed the traitorous elf outright.
“I won’t,” said Theo.
“Good. Besides, you’ll enjoy his cooking much more when he’s happy.”
Kreacher seemed obedient and eager to please Potter, who had thus far treated the elf quite well. Theo would need to observe carefully to draw conclusions from this.
“Right,” said Potter. “I see Kreacher left you pajamas. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you.”
“Let me know what you need.”
Theo did not, strictly speaking, need to know Potter’s rules and expectations. He would very much have liked them. If Potter wanted to wait, that was his choice, and it could have been much worse, so Theo nodded.
“Goodnight,” said Potter.
“Goodnight,” echoed Theo.
He avoided the mirror so he didn’t have to see his claim mark again. Instead, he removed the three books and set them carefully on the bedside table, then went to sleep reminding himself that really, the whole night had gone much better than he ever dared dream.
Harry was pleasantly surprised by the master suite. The silvery-blue walls were a nicer color than most paint in the house, for one thing. He walked across the room and pulled back the navy velvet drapes. Those had holes and would need to be replaced, but he liked the pair of large windows which looked out over the street to a small park, and there was more than enough space in the room even with the large four-poster bed draped with navy curtains and the grandly carved, heavy furniture.
The set of paintings would have to go. Harry had no desire to see leaping Fiendfyre, and he wasn’t interested in a picture frame made of pewter snakes, either. Although it did give him an opportunity.
He stared at the topmost pewter snake on the nearer frame. “Open. Kreacher, was that Parseltongue?”
“No, Master,” said Kreacher mournfully.
“That’s no great loss,” Harry concluded. Kreacher plainly did not agree, but Harry was happy to be rid of Voldemort’s soul, thank you, Parseltongue and all.
He opened the wardrobe. It had an Extension Charm on it, easily tripling the interior space, not that Harry needed that much room for all the clothes he didn’t own.
“How does it work for you with Nott – with Theo?” he asked.
“Kreacher cannot be commanded by an omega, not even Master’s. Kreacher will take care of him as Master’s. Master may instruct Kreacher what requests to allow Theo to make of him.”
“All right,” said Harry, not sorry that Nott – Theo, he reminded himself – couldn’t command Kreacher. Theo had no Dark Mark, but considering both his father and his interest in blood supremacy from Harry’s limited recollections, better that he couldn’t give Kreacher orders. “I want to treat him well. I’ve got to figure out – a lot of things, really. But I want to be good to him. Get him what he needs and what will make him comfortable, but nothing dangerous.”
“Kreacher understands.”
That made one of them.
Harry locked up Theo’s wand for the time being. He didn’t enjoy keeping it. He’d like being killed in his sleep a lot less, though, and his bedside table had a drawer which couldn’t be charmed unlocked. He’d keep the key on him for now, until he was sure that he wouldn’t come to sorely regret giving Theo his wand back.
His recollection of claiming Theo was fuzzy. He’d hoped his first time having sex would be more memorable, but as it was, he’d been out of his mind from heat pheromones, so he perfectly remembered opening the door and seeing Theo naked and writhing on the bed, and then events were blurry until he came back to himself draped over Theo’s body. He remembered biting Theo at some point.
Mostly what stood out to him was the moment he came back to his senses, pushed himself off Theo, looked down at the sleeping man, and felt an overwhelming need to protect his omega. It was one thing to be told he would naturally be protective and possessive. It was something else entirely to feel it for someone who’d been a stranger before.
Needless to say, this had not helped Harry’s simmering mix of emotions, and he thought he deserved a lot of credit for holding himself together as well as he had in such a miserable situation. He hadn’t even threatened to hex the elder Nott.
It’s not Theo’s fault, he reminded himself.
Theo had been surprised that Harry wasn’t going to make him show his bare arse to hundreds of people as proof they’d had sex, because apparently that struck wizards as a sensible tradition. Theo had been given as a spoil of war to a stranger who would legally rule the rest of his life and his own father thought that perfectly reasonable.
Harry knew he had a temper. His fight with Ron when they were on the run had shown him just how dangerous it could be, once he stopped pinning it all on Ron and accepted his share of the blame. Ron might have started the fight, under the influence of the horcrux, but Harry had definitely contributed to it. Ron had left, but Harry had been the one to suggest Ron leave.
If Harry had managed a decent relationship with Kreacher, he could manage not to take his anger out on Theo.
It’s not his fault, he told himself again. This wasn’t a responsibility Harry wanted. He was in fact quite resentful of it. But it was his, and he’d do his best because Theo was a human being who deserved that.
He wouldn’t be Aunt Petunia.
Theo slept for ten hours straight. It took him a moment to remember where he was – Potter’s house, he belonged to Harry Potter now, Potter who had refused to display him and let him keep his mother’s books and had not yet made his expectations clear.
He applied half of the remaining salve to his bite wound. It was sensitive, but not as tender as it had been the previous evening, and appeared to be healing well. He didn’t care to spend any more time looking at it than he had to.
Kreacher brought him breakfast: eggs, sausage, fried tomato, and toast, along with his choice of two kinds of tea. Once Theo finished, Kreacher brought in a set of robes and slippers for him, the robes being quality, if not new, and already altered with a triangle cut out of the side so his mark was not covered.
Theo changed into them and spent the rest of his morning reading the history book with the door to his room open. Shortly after noon, Potter knocked.
“Yes,” said Theo.
“Are you doing all right?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Do you want the tour now?”
Theo agreed at once.
“There’s nothing cursed left, so you don’t have to worry about that,” said Potter, which only begged the question of how many cursed objects used to be cause for concern in this house. Father owned a collection of dark and cursed objects, yes – securely stored away, not kept in the open to trouble anyone who happened to wander around the house. “You do have to worry about the portrait by the front door, though. It’s Walburga Black, and if you wake her up, she’ll start screaming. She only likes bigoted pure-bloods, you see.”
Theo did not see. He supposed he would in time.
In general, the house was dark, gloomy, and exuded a general sense that it had only recently begun to be reclaimed from long neglect. Still, there was no doubt it had been grand once and could be again, with effort and investment. Theo refused to let himself get carried away with optimism that Potter would allow him free access to the study on the first floor with its laden bookcases, or the small brewing area on the ground floor in the back.
“The fourth floor is two bedrooms,” said Potter, not leading Theo up the stairs. “Sirius’s and Regulus’s. His brother. Kreacher loved Regulus, so I think we’ll leave those rooms for now. But you can have any of the others if you’d rather.”
Aside from the master suite, which was of course not an option and he’d only glanced inside, Theo had the most appealing choice of rooms. In part that was because Kreacher had prepared it for him. Still, it was larger than all the other open rooms except the one which had evidently been destroyed by a hippogriff and smelled like it, and he liked the morning light he got through the windows.
“I’ll keep the current room,” he said.
“Okay. Obviously there are renovations which have got to be done, so think about what you’d like.”
What Theo really wanted was for Potter to stop delaying and clearly state his rules and expectations. Unfortunately, his alpha was not so inclined.
“I’ve got to go to Gringotts for an apology to the goblins this afternoon and I have an appointment with Shacklebolt tonight,” he said. “Apparently you can’t entrust offerings to help victims of the Muggle-born Registration Commission without taking part in a meeting about how the fund will work, and we need to get that money to people as soon as possible.”
Theo took vicious delight in imaging how unhappy those whose offerings were designated to help Muggle-borns were. He appreciated his pleasure where he could find it, and of late, had a rather personal interest in those deemed lesser being found worthy after all.
“In between, Ron, Hermione and I have to go buy funeral clothes, because starting tomorrow we have three solid days of funerals. So I won’t be around much.”
“I understand,” said Theo.
“Kreacher will be around for anything you need. If there’s something he can’t take care of for you, let me know.”
“Very well.”
Potter, radiating uncertainty, went on, “After the funerals, we can figure things out.”
Was he making Theo wait for a reason – punishment for Father’s crimes, perhaps – or simply too overwhelmed to give his expectations due consideration?
Theo leaned toward the former, at first. He found cause to doubt late that night, when he couldn’t sleep and thought a walk might help. He hadn’t been told he had to stay in his room, after all, and anyway Potter was probably asleep.
Potter was not asleep. Theo was nearly to the first floor when he heard Potter’s raised voice exclaim, “How am supposed to make it more personal when I barely knew him, Hermione? Should I share my warm memory of the time he held me back so I didn’t follow Sirius through the Veil?”
Granger did not reply at such volume that Theo could hear her. This was a shame, not least because Theo had only heard brief mentions about Veil of Death and would have liked to learn more.
“He made me his son’s godfather, and I never got to know him because of sodding Voldemort and the sodding Death Eaters and the sodding war!”
Theo flinched. He’d have to work on that response to the name. More immediately, he faced the task of getting back up the stairs quietly, lest he be caught eavesdropping, no matter that it hadn’t been his intent.
“I know he cared about me. Doesn’t make for much of a eulogy to say that, does it?”
Theo turned and started up the steps with care, testing to ensure he didn’t make any loud noise.
“No. If anyone who shows up to his funeral cares that he was a werewolf, they can fuck right off.”
So, Lupin was dead and had made Potter his son’s godfather. Unintentional though it had been, Theo had enjoyed a productive bout of eavesdropping. It now seemed possible that Potter genuinely felt he couldn’t give proper consideration to his desires for Theo until the funerals were over. He’d said he hadn’t been expecting to be gifted an omega, and perhaps it was not a subject of conversation in the Gryffindor boys’ dormitories to have lively discussions about what they would do if they found themselves able to claim an omega, as it had been in Slytherin.
On reflection, that may have been the rest of them following Draco’s lead lest they make themselves look weak.
Theo therefore did not worry about it the following day. Potter came home twice to change, because Colin Creevey’s funeral required a Muggle suit, and by evening he came back, weary, angry, and weighed down with grief.
The day after that, though, Theo started to grow concerned. When he went to bed that night, he felt a twinge in his neck.
Potter had said he started as he meant to go on. What, exactly, had he meant by that? Was his refusal to display Theo an indication that he intended to keep Theo entirely cloistered? He had no plans for public humiliation, that much could be inferred, and he’d turned over the books, which could be taken as intent to allow Theo his small pleasures. He’d given Theo the potion and salve for pain but withheld his touch. He’d instructed his house-elf to provide for Theo’s needs but hadn’t offered any useful information on what Theo might expect for his life.
The following day was no better. Potter greeted him as he had every morning and then dressed for yet another funeral. Theo’s neck and back ached. When he went to bed, struggling to find a comfortable position, Potter had not yet come home.
This had been the last of the funerals. Theo desperately hoped Potter would finally deign to lay out his expectations, because how was he supposed to ensure the best treatment Potter was willing to provide if he had no information from which to work?