Chapter Text
Sirius kept his word. All of them did. The three of them called in every favor they had, using their positions at the ministry ruthlessly to get Harry what he needed. Both James and Sirius were Aurors, and Lily had once been a member of the committee on experimental charms. She had retired when he went missing, devoting herself to the search for Harry. She had the spells and rituals that she invented published, and her name was held in high esteem in the magical research community. Even her forays into the Dark Arts she had published, albeit discretely and under the name Madame Leona.
Apparently the unspeakables had been conducting research in time travel themselves. This was a double edged sword. On the one hand, if Harry could gain access to the material, he would have a hell of a head start when it came to trying to get himself back home. On the other, if the unspeakables discovered exactly who Harry was and where he had been, he'd become the subject of their research, and no one would even bat an eye.
Still, it was worth the risk. The three of them together had managed to call in enough favors to get Harry access to the research. Not as himself, obviously. No. Instead he was posing as James' cousin. One from the wrong side of the sheets. It was a roll Harry was used to - he'd been playing the illegitimate Potter for the last six years, after all.
Harry had been ensconced in the Black library when Kretcher had appeared with a pop, and Harry turned to him with a smile. He'd always had a soft spot for house elves, empathizing with them a grate deal. Besides, they certainly had their uses. They were incredibly loyal creatures, and capable of much more magic than wizards and witches gave them credit for. Most wards were nothing to an elf, and no one really knew the true extent of their magic.
Kreature had recognized him at once when Sirius had ordered him to get drinks, and had fallen at Harry's feet weeping with joy. For all that the elf had adored the late Lady Black, he still held affection for the late Lord Black, and had been overjoyed to see Harry, a "Proper Wizard" after so long in the company of "Mudbloods and Blood Traitors."
Master Regulus, Sirius' brother, was out of the country on business, and Kretcher had been left behind to see to Sirius' needs. Officially, anyway. Given their mutual animosity and Sirius' obvious distain for his family home, Harry thought it likely had much more to do with ensuring that nothing was destroyed in Regulus' absence.
"Master Potter sirs," the old elf said. "Yous is having a message from the ministry of magics."
"Thank you Kretcher," Harry said. "If you'd put it on the desk, I'll get to it in a moment."
Kretcher did so, muttering under his breath in admiration about how nice it was to have a proper wizard in the house while Master Regulus was away. Harry rolled his eyes, but let him be. There were more important things to focus on.
Harry took the envelope in both hands as soon as he was alone. It was addressed to a mister Harold Potter, and Harry heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that the identity they'd crafted had held up under scrutiny. Turning the letter over, he found the familiar seal of the ministry of magic. Harry broke the wax and opened the envelope, pulling out the parchment inside with unsteady hands.
Dear Mister Potter,
We have received your request to review our research regarding temporal phenomina on behalf of Lady Potter as her apprentice. Lady Potter's reputation within the field of magical research is nearly unmatched, and we here at the Department of Mysteries are happy to provide aid for her newest project. Upon reviewing the references you have provided and the successful completion of your background check, we are happy to extend to you an invitation to come to the ministry to conduct the experiments you require.
Due to your age and the volatile, unpredictable nature of the magics in question, you will not be permitted to conduct experiments directly. Once you have reviewed the information on the experiments that have already been conducted and their outcomes, you will be permitted to observe and gather data. An unspeakable will be assigned to supervise you during your time in the department. You may submit experiments to him on behalf of yourself and Lady Potter, which he will conduct. The results will be given to you. You will not be permitted in the room where the experiments are conducted, but will be allow to view the process through an enchanted two way mirror.
You may begin your research whenever you are ready. For the sake of security, you must be escorted to and from the Department by an Auror, and will be subject to identity verification via Goblin methods upon each entry, and subject to search upon exit.
We look forward to your visit,
Head Unspeakable,
Department of Mysteries
Harry put the letter back on the desk he had commandeered, and tilted the chair back so it stood only on two legs while he considered the contents. It wasn't what he had hoped for. He'd know that his access would be restricted, but this...
Harry rubbed his hands over his face. At the very least, he needed to be in the room. The data alone wouldn't be enough. Harry would have been able to learn so much more if he could feel the magic. There would be no chance of that, not with the rules that the Unspeakables had outlined.
Harry heaved out a sigh and let the legs of the chair fall onto the floor once again. It was better than nothing. That he'd gotten access at all had been something of a miracle. Besides, their largest concern seemed to be his skill. It would take time, but he could demonstrate his ability. Their show of concern about his age was just that, as far as Harry was concerned. A show. A few wavers and they wouldn't care, as long as he had demonstrated his care and skill.
It would take time. Too much time. But it was the best way. Maybe the only way. Harry would do whatever it took to get back to Tom. No matter how long it took him.
Harry stood up and strode over to the fireplace in the library. If it was going to take as long as he feared, then he needed to get started as quickly as possible.
A moment later, Harry strode out into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He quickly stepped away from the front of the fireplace so as not to block traffic and allowed himself a moment to enjoy the space. The floor was a rich, dark wood, polished until it gleamed. There were golden symbols set into the ceiling on a bright blue background. From time to time, they would flicker and change. The walls were paneled in wood a few shades warmer than those on the floor. In the center of the room stood a golden fountain, declaring itself to be "The Fountain of Magical Breathren."
He stood there, and he wondered. Wondered what Tom would have done with the space if he were Minister. What it would be like to walk through the space every day on his way to the minister's office, to kiss Tom goodbye here, in the morning before then went off to their separate offices. Then Harry snorted. As if Tom would let him have a separate office. Possessive idiot.
Harry smiled, his chest tight and his eyes beginning to sting. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. The sooner he stopped moping, the sooner he could work on getting back to Tom.
A quick wave of his wand had his robes soot and wrinkle free, and allowed him enough time to finish composing himself. He walked over to the security desk and handed his wand over to the clerk at the desk with a friendly smile. Genial enough to be liked, but not enough to be memorable. It was a balance he'd perfected, over the years.
"Holly with phoenix feather. Eleven inches," the security officer read off. "In use for five years. Is that correct?"
Harry nodded in response. A moment later, a thin rod Harry didn't recognize was waved over him and the guard gave a grunt of approval and a small smile when nothing happened.
"Right then," the guard said, placing the rod back where it had come from. "May I have your name, sir?"
"Harold Potter," Harry answered.
"And your business at the Ministry today?" the guard asked.
Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter from the unspeakable and handed it to the guard. He waited patiently as the man's eyes flickered across the page. He ran his wand over the page a few times, muttering spells under his breath. Checking the validity, if Harry had to guess. After several minutes, the man put his wand away and handed the letter back to Harry, apparently satisfied.
There was a whirring noise and a soft clink, and a moment later Harry was handed a silver badge. It was inscribed with his name, and written below that were the words "Guest Researcher, DoM".
"Pin that to the front of your robes," the guard told him. "Keep it on you as long as you're in the building. Now, I'm going to call an Auror down to escort you to the department of mysteries..."
"Oh, that's not necessary," Harry said with a friendly smile. "My Cousin James in an Auror. I thought I'd pay him a visit, if it isn't too much trouble. I'm certain he'll be able to find someone to take me down to the Department of Mysteries once we've had the chance to chat some."
"Fair enough," the guard said with a shrug, clearly losing interest now that his job was done. "Take the lift down. Department of Magical Law Enforcement is the second floor."
A short ride later, Harry stepped out of the lift and into a hallway lit with artificial sunlight shining through the magical windows set into the walls. The corridor was lined with doors. Harry worked his way slowly around the hallway, reading the plaques beside each door until finally, around the corner, he found the one he wanted.
There were cubicles crammed into room, all overflowing with paperwork, the walls adorned with personal effects. All this, Harry had expected. But instead of the hustle and bustle he had expected, he was greeted with dead silence, the attention of every person in the room fixed on one of the doors that Harry assumed lead to an office. A few people glanced at him as he entered, but barely spared him a look before returning their attention to the office once again.
Harry walked forward slowly, intent on discovering what it was everyone was staring at so intently. At last he got close enough to make out the words engraved on the small golden plaque attached to the door.
James Potter, it read.
That was all the information Harry needed. It really didn't matter what was on the other side. Harry might not be willing to stay for his family, but he'd grown fond of them. He wasn't about to stand by and do nothing while something was happening to his father. Not an interrogation. No, that wouldn't be held in his office. Either Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE, had dropped by to ream his father out, in which case Harry would happily distract her, or his father was tearing a subordinate a new one. If that were true, his father wouldn't care.
If it was truly important or sensitive, his father would have locked the door.
Ignoring the gasps of the people around him, Harry put his hand to the knob, only to have it turn easily in his hand. Harry walked in, pulling the door closed behind him.
Tom retreated from the last of Harry's memories, fighting to keep his emotions under control. His eyes burned, but Tom refused to blink. He would not take his eyes away from Harry for even a moment.
There were no words for everything Tom wanted to say. No words could be enough.
Tom pressed Harry even further against the wall, leaning down to kiss him. It was a violent kiss, fierce with desperation.
Harry met him head on, returning the kiss with as much fervor as he could.
Reaching out with his magic, Tom tore a hole in the wards of the Ministry. There was no time for finesse. He had been waiting for Harry for nearly half a century. He would tolerate no delays in their reunion. Ignoring the blaring of the alarms around them, Tom managed to turn on his heel without breaking the kiss, his grip on Harry as firm as ever.
They broke apart when the manor appeared around them. Only for a moment, while Harry caught his breath. Tom couldn't keep his hands off Harry. Not for long.
Tom pulled down the collar of Harry's robe, revealing the long column of Harry's throat. He stopped short at the sight of the fading bruises he found.
Forty years later. Forty years later, and Harry still bore Tom's marks on his neck. After all this time, Harry was still his. The proof was there, for anyone to see.
Tom reached out and traced his hands along the marks, Harry shuddering at his touch the way he had always done.
Tom bent down and pressed his mouth against Harry's neck, scraping his teeth against the old mark before setting about making a new one.
"I missed you," Harry gasped, clutching Tom's shoulders. "Merlin, Tom. I missed you so much."
Tom pulled away to loook into Harry's eyes. The emotions he saw there were too much, and Tom lost control. His magic burst from him, tangling in Harry's as deeply and as tightly as it could. Tom kissed Harry as if his very life depended on it.
Tom pulled away at last, pressing his forehead against Harry's own, staring into those green eyes that had been his whole world for so long.
"You are my everything," Tom said, the years of lonliness, loneliness, of desperation, of emptiness fueling the words.
"I'm here, Tom," Harry said, reaching up to cup Tom's face in one hand, his face lit with joy, green eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Nothing," Tom snarled. "Nothing will ever take you from me again, Harry. You are mine."
Tom would not lose him again. Tom would never so much as let Harry out of his sight. Not for the next century, at the very least.
"Yours, Tom," Harry agreed. "Always."
"I made you promise," Tom said, staring down at him. "Two score ago, I promised to bind you to me. Magic to magic. Soul to soul. Life to life. You were stolen from me before that promise could be fulfilled."
Tom kissed Harry, needing the reminder that this was real. That it was not a dream. That his beloved was back in his arms once more.
"Bond with me, Harry Potter," Tom whispered, his voice rough, when he pulled away. "Bond with me, and let us never be parted again."
Harry leaned forward and kissed him again.
"Yes," Harry said. "Always, yes."
Tom lifted Harry into his arms, refusing to allow any more space between them that was absolutely necessary. As soon as he was certain Harry was secure, he once again turned on his heel, disappearing into thin air.
Stonehenge was just as Tom remembered it. The grass was green, the air practically humming with magical energy. And absolutely surrounded by muggles. Tom sneered. He was not about to bond himself to the love of his life before an audience of muggles.
They were easily dispensed with. A wave of his wand, Tom's unprecedented power amplified by the nature of the magical nexus they stood upon, and the crowd disappeared. The Obliviators and Muggle Worthy Excuse office would have a great deal of work to do later, but Tom did not care. He had already lost forty years with the love of his life. He would not lose even a single second more.
When they were alone, truly alone, Tom gently placed Harry on his feet.
"I love you," Tom said. "Harry James Potter, I love you more than life itself."
Harry's eyes blew wide, his mouth parting, and Tom did not resist the urge to kiss him. He was helpless, his self control a mere memory under the circumstances. After so long starving for Harry's presence, there was nothing Tom wanted more than to gult himself.
Soon, he promised himself as he pulled away. Soon.
Tom took his wand in his hand and turned to Harry.
"Do you trust me?" Tom asked him.
"With all that I am," Harry answered.
The hair on Tom's arm slowly began to stand on end, the potency of the magic in the air swelling around them. Tom blinked in surprise. They had not yet begun to speak their vows. In every account he had read, the ritual did not begin until the couple joined hands. But Harry had just made a vow, and the nexus of power around them had accepted it.
The binding had begun.
Tom reached out and took one of Harry's hands in his own, leaning down to brush a kiss of apology across it for the pain he was about to cause. Then he drew his wand gently down Harry's palm, the skin splitting in it's wake. As soon as the cut was made, he repeated the process on the other hand.
Harry reached into his robes and pulled out his own wand, not even flinching as the open wound came into contact with the rough wood.
"Do you trust me?" Harry asked, echoing Tom's question.
"With my life and soul," Tom answered.
Again, the magic around them grew, the pressure almost a physical weight.
Harry drew his wand across Tom's palms one by one, but tom didn't feel the pain. No, all he could feel was the burn of anticipation, his heart beating against his chest. He reached out and gently took Harry's hands in his own, pressing their palms together and weaving their fingers.
"Harry James Potter," Tom began, staring into those green eyes that had become his entire world "I vow to protect you from harm."
As he spoke the words, he felt his magic drawn from his core, a long strand of magic was pulled from his chest, wrapping like a ribbon of fire around both their wrists, tying them together.
"Your enemies will be my enemies," Tom continued, another strand weaving between them. "Your pain will be my pain, and I will alleviate it by any means necessary. I swear to use the heat of my anger to temper the strength of our bond. I vow to make you my equal in all things."
Each promise bound the two of them tighter, the fire of Tom's magic weaving their hands together.
And then Harry began to speak.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry said, his voice shaking, eyes filled with tears. "I swear that I will share in your laughter. You triumphs will be my own, your defeats my defeats. I will find the brightness and goodness in you, and I will treasure both. I will make myself at home within your darkness."
With each promise, each tie binding them tighter, it was as if Harry's very magic was wrapping itself around his soul.
"I will share your burdens and your dreams," Harry promised. "I vow to make you my equal in all things."
The last line of fire wrapped around their joined hands, and began to glow so bright it was all but blinding.
"Harry James Potter," Tom said, the magic powerful magic swirling around him intoxicating, "I give you my magic. I give you my soul. I give you my life."
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry said, green eyes practically glowing. "I give you my magic. I give you my soul. I give you my life."
"And so with this this kiss, the binding is made!" Tom declared.
He leaned down and kissed Harry, his beloved. His dearest. His everything.
It was as if a tidal wave of magic crashed over both them. Tom could feel his magic being pulled from him, but with every bit that escaped, familiar magic flowed in to take it's place. Harry's magic, making itself a part of him. A familiar presence made itself at home in the back of his mind, a connection blossoming there that hadn't been before.
When the last of the magic finally faded, when the light dimmed and vanished, Tom pulled away and opened his eyes. Harry was beaming up at him, his eyes wet. Tom could feel his happiness as if it was his own, warming his soul.
"I can feel you," Harry said, his eyes wide. "I can feel you, Tom."
Tom grinned, brushing Harry's hair back from his face. "You can. Just as I can feel you."
"We're bonded," Harry said, breathless, as if he could barely believe it. "We're bonded."
"We are," Tom said, leaning down and kissing Harry once more. "We are, Harry. Magic to magic, soul to soul, life to life."
"Together forever," Harry said softly, wrapping his arms around Tom.
"Forever," Tom agreed, pulling Harry even closer.
Decades. Tom had been waiting decades for this moment. Harry, here. Harry, back in his arms. Finally. Finally. For the first time in nearly half a century, he felt complete again.
Never again. Never again would Tom lose the boy within his arms. There was no living without him.
Tom clutched Harry close, feeling Harry's tears brush against his skin where Harry's head rested in the crook of his neck. Tom bured his hair and breathed deeply, ignoring the tears that were running down his own cheeks.
His beloved. His dearest. His Harry. Back where he belonged at last.
Tom would never let him go.