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I’ve done it for you, for you, for you. I’ve done it all for you.
Would you have done it for me too?
It was bright and beautiful, the sun shining brightly overhead and the late July heat beating down on all of them. The rented garden was overfilled with flowers and people as they mingled, an anticipatory feeling sparkling in the air. A nearby covered pavilion was almost as tightly packed with people, though most of these were of the red-headed variety.
On the left side of the pavilion was the first concentration of red-heads, including several aunts, a few cousins, two mothers, and one young bride.
On the right side of the pavilion was a different collection of red-heads, including several brothers and a father. Three dark-haired men were the odd ones out there, though they all interacted like one large family. They were the godfather and father of the groom and, of course, the groom himself.
Harry had no idea how Ginny was feeling at this moment, but he hoped it was better than he was.
His stomach ached terribly. A cold, clammy sweat was running down his spine, making him so grateful for his dark robes. Whenever he started to button up his collar to tie his bowtie, his vision would go dark around the edges. He was pretty sure he was hyperventilating and about to pass out.
He wondered if before he did, he could convince the twins to help move him down the walkway with no one the wiser, but the whole idea seemed far-fetched and, well, when he got married he would like to be able to remember it. He didn’t think Ginny would appreciate it, even if it would make a funny story later; Harry Potter, so anxious to get married to the second love of his life that he passed out and had to be dragged to the altar.
Harry rubbed at his face with both hands, ignoring his father and godfather and one brother arguing about the boutonniere placement. What he really needed was some fresh air.
Getting to his feet, Harry staggered for the side door, the one half hidden, really only there for an easy escape if something happened inside the pavilion. He caught Ron’s eye as he left, mouthing, “Need air,” at his friend and getting a wave off in exchange.
There was still an hour to finish getting ready. Harry had heard the schedule so many times over the last three days he knew it backward and forwards.
There is a part of the garden that contains high hedge walls, made for walking through, not necessarily sitting and chatting and so, at the moment, quite empty. Harry made his way in until he reached a fountain, where he stopped to stick his head in the water in hopes of clearing it.
It didn’t help much though, leaving Harry with a dripping head of hair that, if he came back inside with a wet suit on, would get him in so much trouble.
Harry patted his pockets for his wand, then cursed when he didn’t feel it.
Succumbing to his fate, Harry lifted his head and turned. He stopped abruptly when he saw the person standing only a few feet away, at the entrance back into the maze.
“Tom,” Harry breathed out, in utter shock as he stared at him. “You’re here.”
Tom smirked. It made Harry’s heart clench. “Harry. How observant of you. Of course, that’s one of those things we like to see in our Senior Aurors.” He clapped slowly three times as he said, “Congratulations. Twice over, in fact. A promotion and an engagement. What a busy year you’ve had.”
Embarrassed, Harry’s face flushed red. How had he forgotten how petty Tom could be? “Is that it? Is that why you’re here? For late congratulations?”
Tom took a step closer to him. His dark eyes glittered with something Harry couldn’t identify. It made him uneasy to realize that after so many years of only ever seeing the man at a distance, he no longer knew Tom like he once had. “Not even a thanks?” Tom breathed out, taking another slow step forward. “Now, what have I done to warrant such ingratitude?”
“Oh I don’t know,” Harry spat, “Maybe you fucking disappeared from my life for five years? How about that?”
Tom shook his head slightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth in a ‘tsk’ing sound that made Harry’s hackles rise. “Someone’s forgotten something very important. Or are you playing to some unseen audience yet again, Harry? I can assure you, we’re quite alone.”
He waved his hand briefly, a quick flick of the wrist really, that made his magic ripple out and stick an invisible ward around them. Harry’s breath caught at both the feeling of Tom’s magic and the ripple of it before his eyes. He had never forgotten that Tom was powerful, it was an impossible thing to forget, but he’d gotten so used to seeing it that he’d forgotten how incredible Tom really was. Now, to see him wandlessly, wordlessly placing a privacy ward of that caliber…
Harry swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. His back felt slick with sweat again but in a totally different way.
“You were saying I forgot something?” Harry asked, having to clear his throat twice to keep it from breaking.
“Do you remember what day it is, Harry?” Tom asked, taking another step closer. Harry locked his legs so he didn’t take a step back. He couldn’t show too much weakness or Tom would take advantage of it.
Still, he couldn’t help the grimace that flashed across his features before he said, “Of course. It’s my wedding day.”
“No, not that,” Tom chided him, “What is the date?”
“...July thirtieth?”
“Exactly. Now, normally such a day wouldn’t have much significance, but for us, today is special because tomorrow is special, isn’t it? And why is tomorrow special?”
“It’s my birthday,” Harry answered. He shivered as a cold drop of water suddenly broke from his hairline and ran down the side of his jaw. Tom had always been so weird about birthdays, unwilling to celebrate his own but determined to give Harry whatever he asked for on his. “Right?”
“Of course. It’s your birthday. And every year I ask you what you want from me and I give it to you, don’t I?”
Harry huffed in annoyance. “You mean almost every year. I haven’t seen you for five years.” He gestured between them and continued, “At least, not like this. Not face to face.”
“I mean every year,” Tom said. “Just because you haven’t seen me, doesn’t mean I haven’t been there.” Tom’s gaze moved down to Harry’s side, where his familiar but currently empty wand holster usually rested. “Or have you attributed my gifts to you as gifts from others, giving them credit for my knowledge of you and your needs?”
Recognizing a trap when he heard one, Harry deftly avoided answering the question and said instead, “Well, birthday gifts aren’t exactly the best way to stay in touch with someone. I mean, I exchange birthday gifts with my cousin but I wouldn’t consider him my friend.”
Tom was close enough now that Harry could see the dark edge to his eyes. They sometimes had a strange tint to them, mercurial and too-vivid, and Harry had a difficult time looking away. “I would hope you didn’t think of me like your cousin after all we’ve been through together, Harry,” Tom whispered. “But then I think I understand now. You don’t remember, do you?”
Harry blinked at him a few times. He quickly looked away, angrily accusing, “Are you reading my mind?”
“No,” Tom said, “I’m simply skimming your surface thoughts. After all, imagine my surprise that something I have thought about every single day since the last time we spoke does not even play in the background of your mind when I bring it up. How could you forget—something that brought you nearly to tears and yet not even a glimmer of it remains?”
“What are you talking about?” Harry took his step backward. “Forget about what?”
“Five years ago,” Tom said, speaking in that same, low, intense voice that kept Harry from looking away, “We…fought. Verbally, of course. It wasn’t the first time we fought, but I hadn’t thought it would be the last, either. And you said to me that you had changed your mind on your birthday wish. What you really wanted was to not see me again.”
Harry’s brows furrowed together, but Tom continued on before he could speak. “Again? I asked you. Ever? I questioned, but you amended it to five years. You didn’t want to see me or speak to me for five years.” Tom tilted his head to the side, looking almost reptilian as he stared at Harry that way, “Maybe we need a break from each other, Tom, you said to me. A real break, not like we keep saying and not doing. I want a break, you said.
“Five years,” Tom hissed out, “You made your wish, made me promise and forced my hand. You just cut me out for five years, as if that would change anything. After I spent eight years bending to your expectations, avoiding being caught out by your family, pretending to dislike you in public and that we were only somewhat acquainted at best, eight years working side by side with you as an Auror, in a department that judged me for my Hogwarts house and, in your absence, pressed me off the field and out of the corps entirely.”
He was closer now, one hand warm on Harry’s chest, pressing down against him as it slid up, up, up to his throat, fingers curling around the base, his palm just under Harry’s Adam’s apple. Harry swallowed nervously. “You left to become undersecretary though? I thought that was your whole plan? To become Minister?”
“Through the path of the aurors, yes,” Tom said, voice dropping down into a hiss once more, “As Head Auror, yesss. Not to be unceremoniously removed from their ranks because of rumors and associations.
“A pathway that, once again, I took because of you.” Tom leaned in now, breath ghosting over Harry’s ear. “You, who wanted me at your side, but wanted to be an auror, who fought so hard to get in just so I would follow you as I promised.” Tom leaned back again, chin tilted up as he looked down at Harry through his lashes. A coy smile crossed his lips as they breathed warmth over Harry’s own. “So many promises I gave you, only to realize that you never gave me any equal promises in return.”
“I didn’t tell you to leave me alone,” Harry argued. “I didn’t tell you that you had to do all that stuff for me! You could have done whatever you wanted!”
“Oh Tom, I don’t know how we can be together if we’re not Aurors. When will we have time to see each other?” Tom said mockingly, “Oh Tom, I can’t tell my parents about us yet, they don’t even know I’m interested in guys like that. Oh Tom, I have to invite my other friends because we can’t be seen alone that much or people will know! Oh Tom, please come watch me play, I need you there to cheer me on! Oh Tom, help me study, you know the best way to write an essay! Oh Tom—”
“Shut up, shut up!” Harry said desperately. He shook his head, forgetting it was wet and shivering when he felt the wet strands slap against his head. Tom grinned at him, all teeth and burning gaze.
“I gave and gave and gave for you,” Tom whispered, “I kept away for five years while you pretended like I didn’t exist, like we didn’t exist, and slept around until that Weasley cunt caught you and dragged you in using her family as a lure.” He put a hand on Harry’s chin, forcing him to turn his head back when he would look away. “She promised that for you, didn’t she? The happy family that your own family could never be, what with your parents at each other’s throats half the time? Her brothers became your brothers. Her parents became your parents.
"Was it nice? Pretending that everyone played nice in your happy family? Was it nice? Fucking her when you know who you properly belong to?”
Harry pushed at Tom’s chest, trying to escape, but that cold sweat and trembling limbs and darkening vision came back in full force. “I don’t—” he choked out, “I never— I didn’t make you— I’m not with her for her family—You avoided me!”
“You told me you didn’t want to see me. You made me swear on my magic to not look at you or talk to you for five years! You made me wait for you and didn’t have the decency to wait for me?!”
“I don’t remember that!” Harry shouted back. “I don’t remember! That—that argument you’re talking about— I have no idea what you’re talking about! You just started avoiding me and never would look at me or talk to me and I — I didn’t tell you that! I didn’t! Why would I do that when I lo—” Harry cut himself off abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth.
They stared at each other for a long, silent moment. The fire in Tom’s eyes dimmed. His expression softened. “You…you don’t remember it? At all? Not even— You went out that night with your friends, drinking because you and I had made plans for your actual birthday— Plans we didn’t get to have because that night we fought and you… that’s when you…”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t remember any of that. I— I mean I went out with my friends but I don’t… I don’t remember talking to you one on one at all. We were so trashed that we had to get help apparating back. I…I woke up at Ron’s place. We ended up staying in, having a very casual day for my birthday just playing pick-up quidditch…”
Tom stared at him. His face was ashen white. “What?”
But Harry’s head was starting to ache as he thought back that hard. He’d been drinking with friends and then must have gone too far because he definitely was out of it and then passed out officially sometime. He couldn’t remember seeing Tom there for more than a minute or two before…had he gone to the restroom? Had someone apparated him back? He couldn’t remember.
“Harry,” Tom said urgently, “Let me see, please. I believe you, I do but I have to see— If someone erased it or what— please.” He cupped Harry’s face in his hands, leaning in so close his breath warmed Harry’s lips.
“Yeah,” Harry mumbled back, “Okay.” He met Tom’s gaze and not a moment later felt the search begin.
Tom was gentle in his mind, rifling through memories with a careful touch and deftness that spoke to more experience with this type of magic than was probably proper. Still, Harry held still and waited, thinking about that night in order to help Tom’s search.
When he finally pulled back, there was a confused expression on his face. “There’s nothing,” he said.
“Huh?” Harry blinked dumbly. “You mean no traces?”
“No, Harry, I mean nothing. There isn’t even the shadow of a covered memory, or a removed one. There’s no loss of time, no missing chunk. You were awake, then somewhat incoherent, and then you moved from the bar to the Weasleys and were out like a light. You and I…whoever I spoke to, they pretended to be you through magical means and not ones easily identifiable.”
“Polyjuice,” Harry breathed out. “You think?”
“It would be my first choice,” Tom said, “And someone either clever enough to engineer the moment or quick enough to come up with a plan and be able to execute it the moment it became possible.” That this mysterious person also had to have access to Harry’s hair and know that he wouldn’t accidentally stumble onto the situation was a given, considering.
Harry dragged his hand through his hair and then swore, having forgotten that he’d stuck his head in the fountain and it was still wet. “Tom, would you mind—” he didn’t even have to finish the words, his expression chagrined, before Tom flicked his hand and dried his hair and the collar of his dress robes.
He then drew back, tucking his hands behind himself. Some of his temper had bled off, probably because he had someone else to blame for all this, and Harry… Harry wouldn’t be surprised if Tom was officially done with him now. It wasn’t like he’d remembered to stay away. He could have talked to Tom or tried to or something…
“You did a few times, in the beginning,” Tom said quietly, obviously skimming Harry’s thoughts still and just as obviously unapologetic about it. “But I avoided you at every turn. I had to, in order to keep my magic. And eventually, you gave up and left me be.”
“And you waited until now to talk to me because…the five years is up,” Harry said slowly. “And now you can safely talk to me and…and I’m about to get married.”
Tom gave him a sharp nod. A smile that was more like a knife cut crossed his lips. “All this time I’ve done things for you, I came to ask something from you in return. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted. For every birthday I’ve shared in your company, this is the one thing I wanted but never asked for because I couldn’t imagine you’d ever say no.”
“Tom…”
Lifting his chin and standing tall, Tom said simply, “Pick me. Whether it’s between me and your parents, me and your friends, me and your job, pick me. Put me first, Harry, and I swear I’ll always do the same for you.”
Harry swallowed, his throat made a little clicking sound. Nervously, he said, “That sounds an awful lot like wedding vows, Tom…” He laughed a little, though the sound quickly died out at Tom’s serious expression.
“I won’t promise anything else,” Tom said, “I won’t kiss you or pressure you with a touch. I won’t do anything because I want you to make this choice yourself. All I’m doing is telling you it’s an option. Pick me.”
“And if I don’t?” Harry whispered.
Tom stared at him. It was obvious what the answer to that was.
“Tom…” Harry reached for him, but Tom stepped back and away.
“Better make your choice quickly,” Tom said, “I think I heard the music starting.” He raised one hand and flicked his fingers, dispelling the privacy ward above them.
Before Harry could do anything more than take a step towards Tom, he suddenly heard Ron’s voice from the other side of the hedge. “Harry? Harry! Blimey mate, there you are! Are you trying to drive Mum crazy? She—” He stopped abruptly, eyes widening at the sight of Tom and then narrowing. “The hell are you doing here, you snake?”
“Ron,” Harry elbowed his friend but Tom didn’t even bat an eyelid.
“If you don’t mind,” Tom said as he drew out a watch from his breast pocket, “I have a portkey going off in thirty minutes so I’ll remain here until then. Congratulations, Potter.”
“Thanks,” Harry mumbled. He struggled tearing his eyes off of Tom as Ron tugged him away.
“Who invited him anyway?” Ron muttered, “I thought he’d be too good for this sort of thing.”
“What, a wedding?” Harry asked.
“I meant a shindig of his political rivals, but yeah sure. Riddle doesn’t take me as a man who enjoys a wedding.”
Harry shrugged at that, chewing on his bottom lip. He thought Tom would like a party as long as it was tasteful and served multiple purposes. He hated wasting his time and energy on something he deemed foolish… like attending Quidditch matches for Houses that weren’t even his own, or spending time in the Aurors when he could have gone and become a lawyer or something else more in his interests.
That pit in Harry’s stomach only grew deeper as he was ushered back into the pavilion and into a room of family and friends. As he was jostled in front of a mirror to get his hair fixed up and the last of his outfit pinned into place, Harry found himself wondering who would have taken the polyjuice and been able to pretend to be him in front of Tom so well that Tom had been fooled. Who knew him well enough to fake it hard enough to get Tom to really believe he wanted him gone and to make him swear an oath?
It had to be someone who wasn’t surprised by Tom’s behavior, which brought the number of people down to a very, very small number. And then to be a good enough liar to make Tom believe it…
Harry watched Ron in the mirror. Ron knew about Tom, or rather that Tom was interested in Harry if not necessarily that they had been more or less dating for years. But Ron was a terrible liar and too honest. He would have been up front about it, telling Harry that Tom was bad news and he should stay away from him.
In a similar vein was Hermione: she knew more about Tom, but kept it secret for him. She could get her hands on polyjuice and probably act perfectly like Harry, but would she? Harry didn’t think so. At least, not as a first resort. She would have done a lot more in other ways first before she resorted to that sort of deception.
On the other hand, Sirius was a deft hand at polyjuice and at pretending to be other people, being an excellent voice mimic without even the use of a spell. He loved a good prank and would absolutely do something to ‘help’ Harry. But…he had always liked Tom, unlike many of the others in Harry’s life. Tom had rubbed lots of people the wrong way, but he and Sirius had surprisingly hit it off though Harry recalled that Tom had been more begrudging about that.
Harry hadn’t exactly ever told Sirius about Tom and him being together, but Sirius had hinted to them being a good item and had spoken about his own love for ‘a nerdy sociopath’ with a fondness that Harry didn’t see much in Sirius’s face.
Why would he make Tom leave Harry alone if he’d wanted them to date?
Harry was still trying to figure it out as he was pulled to his feet and ushered out of the pavilion.
The bright sunlight overhead bore down on him like a heavy hand of heat. The milling crowd was settled now and there was music beginning to play. Harry was given a hefty slap on the back and pushed to the end of the aisle. He stumbled a bit, gaining some tittering laughter from the crowd. Then he got his feet under him and walked slowly down the aisle.
At the far end, under the flower-laden archway, stood Remus Lupin, their officiant for the evening. He gave Harry a soft smile as he approached, looking so utterly proud of Harry that he felt his heart drop a little. That nervous clamminess swept over him again and he had to lock his knees into place to keep from falling over.
As the music began to play in earnest, Remus leaned over and whispered, “You okay there, cub?”
Harry swallowed nervously and whispered back, “Remus, I…what if I’m making a mistake?”
Remus stifled a wince and dropped his voice even lower. “Now isn’t exactly the time for second guesses. You’re five minutes from being married.”
Harry gave a breathless laugh.
What if Ginny had been the one to fake being him? What if one of the twins had done it? What if it had been Dean or Seamus? What if it had been a conspiracy between several of them? He had no idea who he could trust.
“Or I guess,” Remus muttered, “This is the last moment you can second guess it, but don’t make a hasty choice, cub. You can’t restore broken trust that easily.”
Pick me, Tom’s voice echoed in Harry’s head as he looked past the crowd before him. The first of the flower girls was coming forward, throwing petals all over and leading the procession of the bridal party. But Harry’s eyes went to the hedges at the other end of the garden. Tom was still there, he knew. He’d be there until his portkey left and then that door would be shut forever.
Pick me, Tom’s voice murmured as flower petals rained down from overhead. The music swelled and the second flower girl came down—because of course Ginny’s nieces all had to participate and her little nephew was carrying the rings down next. This was the family that Harry was marrying into, the one filled with happy smiles and loud children and big holidays. Where the parents loved each other and the children all got along and no one had to fight about who got more precious holiday hours.
It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted, Tom’s voice was a whisper against his skin. Pick me.
Someone released a flock of birds, the curtains at the far end of the gathering parted. Arthur stepped forward with Ginny on his arm. She was bright as the sun, face glowing with joy as she walked sedately down the aisle.
But Harry didn’t see any of it.
His gaze was on the hedges. He almost wished Tom would step out and just look at him, but he knew that he wouldn’t. Tom had been serious— This had to be Harry’s decision. Tom wasn’t going to lure him in with anything more than his words and the promise of a future.
A future Harry hadn’t allowed himself to think of for five years.
“I can’t do this,” Harry whispered. He tore his gaze off of the hedges, vision swirling with color as he stared at the crowd, at Ginny, at their happy faces.
“Harry?” Remus whispered to him, reaching for his elbow to steady him.
Harry carefully pulled his hand off and shook his head, taking a step away from him. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this.” Louder, he said, “I’m sorry everyone. I have to go.”
In hindsight, Harry would suspect the shock of it was the only thing that let him actually get away. What he saw of the faces of those he passed—wide-eyed and open-mouthed, utterly flabbergasted and immobile—told him just how much of a surprise it was. Harry took advantage of that shock and hurried away from the altar, exiting at the side even while Ginny was still walking up.
Once he was clear, he took off running, sprinting really, all the way back to the hedges. He heard shouting erupt behind him but ignored it. At some point, someone had strapped his wand to his wrist and he drew his wand, casting a lightening charm on himself so he could go up and over the hedges with just a little jump.
It was a matter of a minute to find the right section of the maze where Tom stood, hands behind his back, a tool of some sort in his hand as he stared into the water fountain in front of himself. He turned at the sound of Harry’s arrival, eyes widening as he saw him running up.
“Tom—” Harry threw his arms around him, swinging around, still lightened by the charm.
Tom grabbed him around the middle and hauled him back in. “Harry?”
“I pick you,” Harry whispered. “I’m sorry that you had to wait all this time and I had no idea what pain you were in— I made you hide yourself all those years and took advantage of how much you cared for me, didn’t I? Tom, I love you. I pick you.”
Then he kissed him, hard and hot, pulling Tom in close, practically mashing their mouths together.
Tom took control of the kiss, as he was wont to do, and gently pulled back, panting softly. His breath was warm against Harry’s cheek and lips. His forehead was pressed against Harry’s. His eyes were so close, Harry could see the flakes of scarlet around the edges of his iris.
“I didn’t think you would,” Tom admitted. “You never have before.”
“Which has been a regret for most of my life,” Harry said, “My parents don’t get along and my siblings hate me anyway, why shouldn’t I have been public with you? It’s not like it made my life any easier to pretend we weren’t dating. If you’re willing to have me at your side, I’ll be there forever, Tom. I swear.”
Tom kissed him again. At the same time, Harry felt the pull around his navel of a portkey. He closed his eyes and let the magic take him and Tom away.