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When the paperwork first came across his desk, Tom almost dismissed it immediately. A compatibility quiz to foster connection between ministry employees? How trite. Those fools down in the Love Room really do have nothing better to do.
But, as has become second-nature since he discarded his dictatorial ambitions and sought to achieve his control over the magical world through more political means, he simply shifted the proposal to the side to review the following day. The downside of pursuing his goals through proper channels is that he actually has to entertain the idiocy of his inferiors.
Upon rereading the proposal, he reluctantly accepts the relative merit of it. The majority of wixen are resistant to change. Hogwarts house allegiances linger long past the point of any usefulness and, despite their modest population, most don’t branch out far beyond their families and friends made at school. The magical world has been segmented and stunted for far longer than Tom has been around.
(Really, they made it so easy for him to take advantage of their ingrained prejudices – on both sides – and their stagnant worldviews.)
He also can’t deny that the dividing wounds of the war are still fresh. While he doubts this quiz will be as effective as it purports to be, something must be done to address the declining birth rate and waning population trends. Even discounting the not-inconsequential death toll of the war, people have been reluctant to wed or have children, becoming even more insular against different perspectives and politics. It’s an increasingly aged population with a lack of new blood to grow their numbers or fuel any sort of magical or cultural innovation. Something must be done.
At this point, he thinks of Harry.
Well, he acknowledges his thoughts of Harry. The young man is rarely far from his mind, but he’s been trying to manage his obsession preoccupation. It’s becoming distinctly self-flagellating and pathetic: two things he would never want associated with himself.
But, of course, when the topic of love comes up, he thinks of Harry. How he would scoff at this proposal as well and take the piss out of it with Tom. How he would still think it worth trying, because Harry wants people to heal and be happy.
Perhaps this overly optimistic bit of nonsense could draw Harry back to Tom.
And then he thinks: Why leave it to chance?
So, when the time comes, he fills out the silly quiz, the same as all the other ministry employees. He checks the results before they’re made public. And there it is – he and Harry are almost a perfect match, as he had hoped known they would be.
He has used his exceptionally powerful magic to shape the world to his liking throughout his life, and he uses it again to make the results of this quiz binding – for everyone. He can’t do it just for him and Harry. That would be too obvious. Better to create a little chaos, a bit of misdirection – and maybe he can even get the necessary support to shut down research and activities in the Love Room from this.
The results of the quiz are made public on Valentine’s Day in a fit of sentimentality. Tom makes sure to be in his office before the morning rush, hoping to get some work done before the inevitable commotion.
The anticipated parchment lands on his desk around 10 AM. He gives it until the end of the lunch hour before its magically binding nature becomes widely apparent.
He starts getting frazzled interdepartmental memos before noon.
So, while the rest of the Ministry of Magic is in an uproar, beating down the doors of the Department of Mysteries, demanding to know what happened and how it can be fixed, Tom is not all that surprised when Harry Potter comes to his office instead.
Harry often thought the worst of him. That he’s correct this time doesn’t make it sting less.
“Please, do come in,” Tom says wryly as Harry strides into his office without knocking.
“So,” Harry starts, shoulders squared as if ready for a fight. “Looks like I’m the lucky one who got the minister as my match.”
“How fortuitous for you.”
“And how convenient for you,” Harry retorts. “I should’ve known something was up when they announced that stupid compatibility quiz.”
“So suspicious,” he sighs. “We simply deemed it necessary to address the lingering conflict and population decline–”
“Yeah, yeah, I read the bullshit preamble back when we were filling these out. Funny how it never mentioned the results would be permanent.”
“An unforeseen complication – one I’m sure the Unspeakables will work to rectify as soon as they are able.”
“Mmhmm.” Harry’s unimpressed expression pinches. “Did you alter the results for us to match?”
Tom finally looks up to fix Harry with a sharp look. “Why Harry, I’m hurt. Is that something you believe I would do?”
“Uh, yes, absolutely – if it got you something you wanted.”
“And in this instance, I take it the thing you think I want is you?”
“Isn’t it?”
Tom ignores that. “Contrary to what you think of me, I did nothing to change the results for either of us. However you may feel about me now, you can’t deny our compatibility.”
Harry’s face twists. “Fine. Then what about the results suddenly being magically binding? The Unspeakables in charge certainly looked just as confused as everyone else.”
“Magic sometimes has a mind of its own,” Tom says, shrugging carelessly. “And the Unspeakables have a history of being… perhaps a touch overzealous when it comes to their research.”
“You’re asking me to believe that you didn’t have anything to do with this?”
“Believe what you like – you’ll do that no matter what I say,” Tom says shortly, feeling a little sour about the truth of that. Never mind that he’d absolutely manipulated this situation.
The knowing look Harry sends him doesn’t do anything to calm his rising temper. “So, this has nothing to do with you still being pissed off about us?”
“If I were ‘pissed off,’ Harry, you would find yourself writing splinching tickets for the rest of your years as an Auror,” Tom says in a dangerous tone. “I won’t deny that I miss how things once were, but I am hardly so petty as to punish you or the world at large for our schism.”
“This is you not being petty?” Harry asks sardonically, gesturing at the parchment sitting on Tom’s desk. “You can’t ruin a bunch of people’s lives just because you’re too emotionally repressed to send me an owl.”
“I think you’ll find I can.” Tom leans back in his chair.
“Merlin, you’re such a prick,” Harry says, reluctant amusement glinting through his anger. “That’s not something to be proud of.”
“Seeing as it led to you in my office, I disagree.”
“Control freak.” And Tom might be mistaken, but that sounds almost fond. “It’s not like I’m hard to reach. My office is only one floor below this one.”
“Reaching you was never the issue,” Tom says. Harry’s lips twist wryly; Tom knows Harry’s well aware he’s not the best at listening when he doesn’t want to.
“And you thought forcibly binding me to you was the best way to handle that?”
Tom doesn’t bother to reiterate that it led to Harry here, in his office, speaking to him – and is, therefore, a success. “Well, who’s to say how long the spell will last? ‘Permanent’ is such a fluid concept when rogue magic is involved–”
“You were always going to reverse it,” Harry cuts in, the light of realisation adding to the righteous fire of indignation in his eyes.
“Of course,” Tom says smoothly. “It would hardly benefit the ministry if its employees were preoccupied with a bit of botched spellwork for very long. But, naturally, it will take a few days to figure out the counterspell. And if, in that time, the pairs realise they have more in common than they previously thought, it’s a happy side effect.”
Harry stares at him. When he finally speaks, his voice comes out with the slightest husk. “You diabolical bastard.”
Tom smirks at him. “Flatterer.”
Harry huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Merlin. Alright, I’ll leave you to fix your – intentional – mess. I should go make sure no one’s trying to string the Unspeakables up by their toes or something. Which would be your fault, by the way.”
“Goodbye, Harry.”
“And Tom?” Harry calls from the door. Tom looks up and meets the other man’s eyes. “Just send me a damn owl next time you want to talk to me, you weirdo.”
𓈒⟡₊⋆∘˚⊹ ࿔
Tom ensures his owl is waiting at Harry’s window with an invitation to dinner the day the Daily Prophet arrives announcing the Love Room Leak, as the debacle has been called, has been reversed.