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Harry panted as he fell his knees, wand clenched in trembling fingers as he watched the enemy fall to his knees. Twenty-five years. It took twenty-five years of his life and a set of parents before this monster was finally dead. He could not describe how he felt, slowly bending over to rest his head in the rubble. Footsteps made their way towards him, at least five if his training did not fail him, and then thin fingers were stroking through his hair.
"You did it," Narcissa's voice cooed in his ear, pulling Harry so his head was rested in her lap. Another body settled on his other side, thin, calloused fingers moving in slow circles on his back. Lucius then. Harry let his wand slip from his fingers, swift feet moving forward to scoop it up before it could get lost. Narcissa's voice distracted him from determining who had grabbed his wand. Though seeing as Lucius was not spewing the killing curse, it had to be someone who was allowed to hold his wand.
"You have proven yourself, young Harry," that deep voice sent a shiver down his spine, pulling out of Narcissa's arms to look up at the voice. Lord Voldemort stood before him, his brown hair longer than Harry had remembered it and those red eyes just as menacing, though they seemed to have a bit of mirth in them this time. Perhaps a tad of relief that Harry was sure reflected in his own eyes. The monster that had tormented them both was gone. "You will be rewarded greatly for your service." Harry bowed his head once more in respect, listening quietly as the Dark Lord did one of his speeches, leaning heavily on Lucius now instead of Narcissa. His body felt heavy and he did not want to crush the woman that raised him.
The same night James and Lily Potter were killed by Dumbledore, the leader they chose to follow in the first Wizarding War, the Dark Lord found out that the prophecy of the boy meant to kill him had been faked as a way to set him off his agenda. Upon discovering the news of the fake prophecy, the Dark Lord went to Godric's Hollow to recruit the Potters. He had heard of James' fighting skill and of how adept Lily was with charms, only he found them already long dead. Upon entering the nursery, he found young Harry nestled in his crib with a rather strong shield charm on him. He could only be taken out by someone who did not want to hurt him. So that night, the Dark Lord decide to take Harry from Godric's Hollow and chose to raise him to kill the man who had killed his parents.
Seeing as he could not have the Dark Lord for a father, he was given to the Malfoys to raise. They already had a son of their own and were of sound mind to take him, which was why Bellatrix was not given the baby to raise. The Dark Lord was named his godfather so he could still train Harry without drawing too much attention from unwanted sources. Narcissa and Lucius were parents to him longer than James and Lily, but Harry would never forget his biological parents.
"You did well, son," Lucius whispered, shouldering Harry's weight, even though he was beginning to get worry with how heavily the brunet was leaning on him. Harry hummed as calloused fingers touched his jaw, tilting his head back slowly until he met familiar brown eyes.
"Merlin Harry," the silky voice hissed at him, Harry tilting his face into the other man's touch. He only needed the cool touch of the other's ring to know who was behind him.
"My Lord," The captive of the Light side held their breaths as the Dark Lord was interrupted. The brunet man turned towards the voice, eyes sweeping over the Malfoy family and Harry for a brief second.
"Blaise Zabini," he nodded in acknowledgement, knowing the dark skinned man would not have interrupted if it was not important.
"May I take him before he passes out?" Blaise gestured to Harry, who was now leaning back into his legs and pale enough to worry them all. The Dark Lord looked at his godson and nodded his consent, glad that the Zabini boy was smart enough not to reveal personal details in front of the captives. "Thank you My Lord." Blaise knelt down and lifted Harry from the ground, not even bothering with attempting to make him walk. Blaise did not know how injured he was and he was not going to hurt him more. Draco held up Harry's wand and Blaise grabbed it before disapparating away from the battle field.
Despite his graceful landing outside the Riddle Manor wards, Harry let out a groan in pain. Blaise shushed him gently, making his way up to the gates.
"Your hand, love."
Harry lifted his hand up and pressed it against the metal gate, wincing as it nicked his palm before curling back into Blaise's arms. Once the gates opened, Blaise made his way through them, crossing the grounds at a neck breaking speed that only came from years of pacing the ground of the Riddle Manor. They conducted training here normally and since Blaise was a medic, he spent the majority of his time running around and healing new recruits. Blaise entered the manor, house elves flocking to him when they sensed Harry and his injuries. Besides the Dark Lord, Harry was the only one that the manor allowed in. His blood ran through the manor and the house elves could sense him.
"Grab my medic kit," Blaise ordered, not exactly comfortable with all the little beady eyes staring at him. All the elves rushed off to follow the order, leaving Blaise to continue his trek.
"You are attractive at this angle," Harry mumbled out, reaching up and grasping Blaise's jaw and giving it a soft squeeze. Use to this behavior, he allowed his lips to be pursed out at the soft squeeze. He pressed a gentle kiss Harry's fingers before he made it to their bedroom. With Harry being the Dark Lord's godson and heir, he had his own wing and room within the Riddle Manor. Blaise manuvered Harry on to the bed and laid him down as carefully as he could.
"I hope I am attractive at every angle," Blaise hummed, nodding at the house elf that brought his med kit. He placed the bag next to Harry on the bed, eyes scanning over the brunet critically.
"The exact reason I married you,"
"And here I thought it was just an arranged marriage, who knew my husband was such a romantic?" Harry grinned at Blaise's teasing, though it quickly wiped off his face as the healer begun the process of putting him back together. His arm was cut pretty badly as were his ribs. He had countless other injuries that he could not even keep track of, but Blaise seemed to find them like he had them on his own body. Then again, Blaise knew Harry's body probably as good as Harry himself did. They had only been married for almost ten years and had a pretty stable sex life, if Harry did say so himself.
"That hurts!" Harry hissed as Blaise sealed the last of his wounds, letting out a whimper when the dark skin man sent a stinger his way. Harry stuck his tongue out at him and pouted on the bed. Blaise rolled his eyes at his childish husband - though he could never begrudge him as Harry had a lot of his childhood taken away by the old goat. Harry could be a child all he wanted.
"Come on, let me clean your wounds," Blaise pulled Harry up from the bed as carefully as he could to not hurt him anymore than he already was. Magic could only do so much and Harry would still have some scars and sores, at least until Blaise was able to get Draco to make some potions. Blaise helped his husband into the bathroom and quickly set about cleaning him up. The brunet had dried blood all over him and sadly it as mostly his. Blaise was in the process of cleaning the blood off Harry's arms - having long since vanished the other's shirt out of his way - when calloused fingers grabbed his jaw and pulled him into a soft kiss. Blaise accepted the kiss, moving to stand between the shorter man's thighs. The kiss was slow and full of emotion. Relief, fear, passion, protectiveness, and love. Everything Harry was too emtionally scared to say out loud that Blaise knew with everything single one of these kisses. The two slowly pulled away, their foreheads resting together and brown eyes pore into green.
"I love you," Harry whispered, reaching up to cup Blaise's jaw.
"I love you too." The Healer went back to cleaning up Harry and getting him into bed to rest. He knew it would not be long before the Dark Lord came knocking on their door for Harry to interrogate the hostages - as if there was a light side at all anymore - and Blaise was going to ensure his husband slept at least some. Harry being stubborn of course, would not lay down until Blaise did and for the first time in twenty-five years, Harry fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, completely relaxed and looking peaceful. He was not going to wake up in a world where Dumbledore still lived.