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Metamorphosis

Summary:

ONE-SHOT

Minister Slytherin and his husband, Harry Potter-Black, have always been viewed by the masses as an unusual, unexpected couple. The ruthless Minister for Magic, Dark Lord to his many followers, and the Sweetheart of Gryffindor, chivalrous Auror Potter?

Under the cover of darkness, however, Harry seeks justice in a form society would revile him for, taking matters into his own hands when heinous crimes go unpunished. He is not the golden boy many see him as, in truth. Far more suited to his husband than is thought.

OR

Harry has been keeping a dark secret from his husband, the Minister for Magic, for years now. But, with a little help from Draco Malfoy, he comes to realise that perhaps the truth wouldn't be so hard to reveal, as the man has been keeping some secrets himself, far more bloody than his own.

Notes:

One-Shot

TW: Minor Character death, implied cannibalism, implied assault [not Tomarry]

Word Count: 3.1k

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The man shuddered beneath him, jerking in an attempt to break his hold. His teeth were chattering in fear, eyes wide and shaking, unfocused. Harry shifted above him, keeping his arms locked by his sides using his knees, uncaring for the yelp of pain that elicited. It would be easier to use magic to immobilise him, but the man had committed a physical act, so Harry would keep his use of magic to a minimum.

 

"Plea-please!" The man whimpered, his breath heavy as he shifted, shaking his head from side to side. "Who are you!? Don't- don't you know who I-" His breath caught as Harry drew his wand, straightening to get a full view of his prey. "What-what are you going to do to me?"

 

With perfunctory movements, Harry sliced his way through the squirming man's shirt, holding back his disgust at the sight of the tally marks that adorned his chest.

 

His conquests.

 

His lip curling up, Harry grabbed a fistful of the man's limp, greasy hair, yanking his head up harshly to meet his eyes.

 

"Make you pay, of course."

 

The man made a squealing sound, shaking his head back and forth, the whites of his eyes becoming more prominent as he worked himself up into a frenzy of fear. The stench of urine made Harry's nose scrunch, and assured that the man knew of his fate, he slit the throat of the thing squirming and squealing like the pig he was, watching as the life drained from his eyes as the knife dug deeper.

 


 

"How was work?" His husband asked him as he walked through the door, and Thomas looked up, eyes immediately drawn to the man's slender, pale legs. The man was wearing one of his jumpers, coming up to his mid-thigh, a ravishing sight that taunted him with indecent thoughts.

 

"My ministers are idiots." Was his response, which drew a bark of laughter from Harry.

 

"Well, I'm glad you had fun , my day was rather boring."

 

Placing his briefcase down, he crossed the room in a matter of moments , clasping a hand under his husband's chin. The brat simply smirked up at him and turned his head to the side.

 

"You smell like coffee, go and brush your-"

 

His hold tightening, Thomas wrenched Harry's head closer, slamming his lips on his with brutal force that knocked a startled yelp from the other. The kiss deepened as Harry hummed in appreciation, his dainty hands coming up to rake harshly through his hair, ruining the style and most likely creating knots Thomas would have to painstakingly untangle before bed. No matter.

 

A waft of something tangy hit his nose then, and his brows furrowed, leaning back. His husband appeared confused, attempting to draw his closer again with a plaintive whine, but Thomas grabbed his hand out of mid-air, bringing it up to his nose.

 

"Tom?" Harry questioned, sounding confused. "What's the matter?"

 

Sniffing more deeply, he identified the scent for what it was. He was rather familiar with this particular smell. Blood.

 

"Did you get hurt?" He demanded, meeting the man's eyes. Strangely enough, a glint of fear flashed through the green orbs, and his husband smiled hesitantly for a moment before it brightened naturally.

 

"It's not mine. One of the criminals was rather feisty today, so things got a bit bloody." Harry waved his hand, rolling his eyes. "You and your nose, I told you to stop doing those enhancement rituals. I'm afraid of going to the bathroom these days."

 

Unsatisfied, he pulled Harry closer using his arm, much to the man's delight as he moulded himself into his arms, smushing his face into Thomas' chest.

 

"Aw, is my darling concerned for me?" His brat of a husband chuckled, grinning up at him. "Well, I wouldn't say no to a bit of cuddling. And a steak for dinner?" The man looked up at him from under his lashes, glasses crooked. Thomas fixed them as he hummed. "You make the best steaks."

 

"I procure fresh meat to make them, that's why." He murmured, stroking his hand through Harry's unruly locks. Like a cat, the man pressed up into his touch, seeking more. Greedy, insatiable thing. "I will cook you a steak." Thomas agreed fondly.

 

Harry's eyes brightened, and he leaned up to brush a kiss over his cheek. Then the other, and then on his lips. His husband tried to reach his forehead, pushing up on the tips of his toes , but with a gentle push, Thomas retreated, but not before kissing him deeply once more, wiping the pout off of his lips.

 

He drew back, heading for the kitchen quickly before his husband could entice him into other things, and then they both would go to bed hungry.

 

"Make sure it's medium rare!" The man called after him, and Thomas huffed fondly.

 


 

He watched with rapt interest as Harry devoured the steak, the juices dripping down his chin in rivulets, the evidence of his appreciation clear. Thomas would usually be disgusted at the lack of manners, but seeing his husband inhale the food he had procured and cooked for him so eagerly made him forget all of that.

 

He shifted, feeling himself harden beneath his robes.

 

Harry met his eyes then, chewing thoughtfully. Thomas watched as the man swallowed his mouthful, nearly licking his lips in tandem as the man chased a droplet.

 

"Good?" He couldn't help but ask , just to hear his husband hum in delight.

 

"So good, no one else makes steaks like you do. I'm glad you're my husband." Harry batted his eyelashes cheekily, grinning with appreciation as he cut enthusiastically into the meat once more , groaning at the taste.

 

Thomas laughed throatily, holding back his internal glower at the thought of his husband being married to anybody else.

 

It had been a difficult , hard-won battle to win Harry over , he would never let him go, not when they suited each other so perfectly.

 

He had thought nothing of the man, then a boy , at first . He was several years his junior, a wide-eyed first-year staring up at him with fear and awe. A Gryffindor to boot, with a penchant towards disliking those of Thomas' ancestral House.

 

Harry had grown on him, however, like an annoying fungus. It had been innocent at first, the boy asking for help with homework, and as a Prefect, despite not being of the same House, he had obliged. Thomas' interest had grown as he noticed how powerful the boy was, and a thought had developed in his mind that perhaps Potter could be of use . Magically powerful, and the heir to the Houses of Potter and Black. Light, yes, but Thomas could be very persuasive.

 

Then, he had noticed that the boy's stares had begun to grow more intense and wanting. It had discomfited him, as a Seventh year, and he was happy to graduate soon after. Harry was not so easy to shake off as Thomas had hoped and continued to send him letters for the following years.

 

It wasn't until he had graduated, and begun shadowing his Father and Godfather at the Ministry, that Thomas took notice of the man he had grown into , and he couldn't help but to grow steadily obsessed with Harry.

 

Thomas had begun small. Inviting him out for lunch or tea with others, and approaching him at meetings and Ministry events. It had grown more personal from there, until he and the man were having dinner at Thomas' Manor, cooking for each other, bathing the other in compliments for the food. One evening, after watching the man practically devour the steak he had hunted and prepared especially, Thomas could hold back no longer.

 

They had married within the year.

 


 

Harry leant against the lamppost, waiting for Ron to show his face after promising he would be early, when loud cackles of laughter caught his attention. He frowned in annoyance, shifting to walk a little further down the street away from the group that had coalesced outside the bar across from him, when the loud words began to register in his head.

 

"You know Marie? She caught me with Annie a couple of weeks ago and tried to make a runner. I managed to convince her that it was nothing, but it took a bit of persuasion if you know what I mean."

 

He couldn't help but eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation.

 

"-squealed so much when I strangled her last time!" He and the rest of his cronies burst into laughter. "But the best thing is, the stupid bitch still thinks I love her!" More laughter followed as the man began mocking his partner, his friends egging him on, calling out their own insults towards the poor woman. Harry's nose scrunched in disgust as they began to make vulgar suggestions and noises, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

 

Harry felt his temper begin to rise, magic sparking and causing the lamppost to flicker with the excess magic in the air. He calmed himself as the men quietened for a moment , the light catching their attention. Harry shuffled closer to the group, casting a nonverbal, wandless Disillusionment spell to dissuade them from taking notice of him.

 

His next prey had practically walked into his hands.

 


 

The Knight before him shivered on his knees, head pressed respectfully and pleadingly to the floor of his office.

 

Thomas observed them with cold eyes, his lips downturned in disappointment. He had called the man to him soon after finishing his final meeting of the day, and with his mood already ruined from the idiocy of his advisors, Thomas had been eager to hear good news. He should not have held such high hopes for such an insipid, idiotic fool.

 

"You have failed yet another task, Mr. Watts."

 

The man, whom he was ashamed to call one of his Knights, began to blubber at the sound of his emotionless tone. "My Lord, please, I can fix this, I know I can!"

 

He held up his hand, and even with his life hanging in the balance, the man ceased his poor attempt at grovelling, staring up at him with large, watery eyes. Thomas sneered.

 

"I do not wish for you to. I will send another, more competent Knight, although I had thought that this mission was an easy one , even for someone such as you. There is one way, however, that you may prove yourself to me once more."

 

The man perked up, and Thomas repressed the malicious smirk that wanted to form. "I will do anything, my Lord! Anything!"

 

"Anything?" He asked, his voice sly like a snakes, a hiss to it.

 

Instinctively sensing the trap he had walked into, the man shivered but continued to blunder forward. "Of course! I am yours to command, my Lord!"

 

With a quick step forward, he came to loom over the man, who shrank into himself, inching backwards on his knees with a perceptible shiver racking his body. Reaching down with one hand, he wrapped it around the man's throat, delighting in the shocked, choked sound he let out. He didn't squirm, however. Not yet, at least.

 

"Your loyalty is appreciated, Mr. Watts. Your next task, to prove yourself to me, is to please my husband."

 

The confusion that spread across his face delighted Thomas. "My Lord, what-"

 

Tightening his hold, Thomas watched as the man began to squirm in earnest, his face turning a most spectacular shade of red as he was deprived of oxygen. Soon, it turned blue, and his eyes rolled as he lost consciousness, his magic giving one last burst that he easily contained with his own. It would be easier in the beginning for him to be unconscious. Perhaps , when he was a little further along with his task , he would awaken him .

 

Settling the body onto the floor, he tightened his wards and began to carve.

 


 

In front of him, Draco Malfoy stood looking a mixture of annoyed and nervous. Harry could spot it from a mile away. He was fidgeting with his cufflinks, and couldn't quite meet Harry's gaze.

 

As childhood friends, Harry and Draco were close , and they had remained friends despite being sorted into opposing Houses in Hogwarts. Now several years out of school, with both of them married, there was little time to meet, and when they did, It usually concerned business.

 

Harry knew the man had a thing for him, had noticed it in the early years of their school days, and it still persisted even now. Many times, Draco had hinted at such things, but Harry had pretended to be oblivious.

 

In the end, he had chosen his husband, Thomas Slytherin. A few years older than him, Harry had watched as the man, then a boy, breezed through Hogwarts, graduating with the highest score the school had ever awarded.

 

When the man had courted him a few years out of Hogwarts, Harry, then a bashful, wide-eyed twenty-year-old had been inexplicably pleased to have caught the attention of the future Minister of Magic. Because even then, at only twenty-four, everyone had known he was a shoo-in at the next election.

 

Now at twenty-five, Harry had grown less innocent, but he still held Tom in high regard, almost in disbelief that the man had truly married him.

 

Draco cleared his throat, and his attention snapped back to the present.

 

"What is it you wanted to talk about, Draco?" He questioned bluntly, already running late to return home. Tom always got antsy when he got sidetracked.

 

Licking his lips, Draco shifted on his feet, looking unordinarily hesitant. "Can you..." His friend stopped, looking around nervously. He moved closer to whisper in his ear instead, which had Harry rearing back a little as his personal space was invaded. "Can you tell your husband to stop leaving such a mess , please ? I have to clean it up, and magic never works for some reason . Do you know how hard it is to get blood stains out of carpet?"

 

Blood stains?

 

"I've had to have his office redone three times in the last month! It's reasonably difficult to keep explaining to the department that the Minister's office needs redecorating again ."

 

Harry froze, his breath stilling in his lungs as the words registered in his mind. Blood stains. Three times in a month, at least. And it was something that was difficult to explain away.

 

Licking his lips, he smiled at the man. "Thanks for telling me. I'll talk to him about it."

 


 

The next time they were both wrapped up in each other's arms, weary from such an exhausting day, Harry finally spoke up on what had been plaguing his thoughts for the past few days.

 

"Tom, is there anything you wish to tell me?"

 

The man shifted under him, lifting Harry's chin to meet his gaze. Icy blue met blazing green, and the man placed a soft kiss on his forehead . "I am unsure what you are asking, my beloved." His husband spoke in that silky voice of his , shifting closer as if they weren't already melded together.

 

"I was talking to Draco today." He began hesitantly, feeling the man stiffen minutely underneath him. Tom's hold tightened for a moment, before relaxing. Harry had to repress the smile which wished to break free.

 

"You did? What did he say?"

 

"He asked me to ask you to be a bit cleaner next time. Apparently, blood is rather hard to remove from carpets, and the amount of times your office has had to be redecorated is eating into the budget."

 

The man didn't make the same blunder as before, easily waving away his words without a catch of breath. "Yes, I have had some altercations these past few weeks, Dumbledore's men-"

 

"Stop bullshitting." Harry snapped, shifting up onto his forearms to glare down at his husband. "I know you've been killing people, and they are certainly not Dumbledore's because you wouldn't have left any alive since the purge. I want to know who-"

 

Suddenly, Harry was engulfed in Tom's arms and flipped onto his back. It took a few moments to reorientate himself, gazing up at the man hovering above him with a glare. Tom was staring down at him, his expression mutinous.

 

"Tom-" Harry began.

 

"I won't let you go." His husband hissed, his eyes glowing ominously as he leant down. "I will never let you go. I would wipe your memories of this past week and confine you to this manor if you even think-"

 

"Tom!" Harry snapped, breaking the man from his rant to stare down at him seriously instead. "Tom, I'm not leaving, I'm not going anywhere, you don't understand-" He clasped the man's head in his hands, searching his blue eyes, trying to project his love and elation . "This is perfect."

 

His husband blinked as Harry's smile widened, tilting his head in an animalistic movement. A glint of realisation sparked in his eyes, and Tom leant even closer, crowding Harry into the headboard. They lay there for a few moments, watching each other closely before Tom began to speak.

 

"My Knights." He whispered. "My men who have disobeyed me, or failed in my tasks. Their only repentance is to pay with their lives."

 

Harry cupped the side of Tom's face, pressing their foreheads together as he revealed his darkest secret, something he had been hiding from his husband for years in fear he would be disgusted. Now, Harry was sure it would only make his husband enamoured. "I hunt them down, those who have committed crimes that no time in incarceration can atone for. I slaughter them, like the pigs they are, to make them pay. It is a sort of justice that the Aurors do not allow, but it is what they deserve."

 

Tom's breath caught, and the two of them were practically melded into one. Harry looked up and was startled to see his husband's eyes were red as the blood he'd spilt only hours before.

 


 

Thomas stared into Harry's eyes, enraptured by their startling green colour. He could see the emotion within them as his glamour receded, revealing how stark white his skin had become, how his eyes had begun reflecting the depths of the dark magic he drowned himself in. The proof of his immortality. His husband's obvious hunger at the sight only solidified the whisper that had begun growing in his mind over the past years. That Harry should join him in his immortality, whether the man wished to or not, for the price for eternal life steep. Harry had taken lives before, but not purposefully, so would he let go of his morals to perform the act that would allow them to spend an eternity together? That question had finally been answered.

 

His darling was the perfect match for him.

Notes:

I've been planning to write this for a while now, but the words just never came :/ Still, despite being several months late, I hope you enjoyed!! Darker than my usual writing, but I had been watching Hannibal so the idea just kind of stuck ^-^ This will be a one-shot, and I don't really have plans to continue since my stories seem to never end, as those who have read my other works know *-* I hope to bolster the amount of Tomarry works soon with more one-shots and short stories, just give me a little while, since Intimacy is such a big work :))

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