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Chapter Text

Harry was a fairly happy kid. He lived with his parents in his house in Godric’s Hollow. Well, he called it a house, but it was more like a manor. He had three house-elves who helped with the cleaning, cooking, and gardening. And he had a nanny who helped with the playing, studying, and training.

He didn’t use to have one, not before he presented at nine years old. But when he woke up as an Omega, his parents decided to hire the nanny . An Omega with dark, oily hair, a hooked nose, piercing dark eyes, and a big “don’t bother me” attitude.

Harry liked him.

Mr. Snape was fun to play with (he always found Harry during Hide and Seek), easy to learn from (he took his time teaching Harry exactly how to slice a bat spleen), and terrifying to duel against (he’d slashed the last wizard who tried to kidnap Harry from Jr. Quidditch practice).

Harry loved being with him, learning from him, and—especially—prying dangerous spells out of him.

Mr. Snape agreed to teach him, as long as his parents consented and Harry promised to be extra careful with those spells.

Harry had easily agreed, of course. He promised to only use them if he was in danger or if someone else was.

That got a snort out of his nanny-slash-mentor, but his parents were happy and agreed to let Mr. Snape oversee Harry’s magical training as well.

And then they were attacked.

Harry didn’t remember much. 

First, he was sleeping peacefully in his room. Then, Mr. Snape was shaking him awake and dragging him toward a window. The air was thick with heat. Smoke poured in from under the door. Everything smelled like burning.

Harry didn’t see much—he felt it. The panic. The heat. The way Mr. Snape levitated him through the window, down into the garden, where a single house-elf was waiting.

“Mr. Harry! Sir! Dobby is so happy you’re alive!”

“What’s happening?” Harry asked, blinking hard, disoriented. “Where are Mum and Dad?”

“Dobby saw them by the library when the fire reached it, sir,” Dobby whimpered, pulling on his ears. “Dobby tried to stop it, but Fiendfyre is not easy to control, not even for a house-elf! Master and Mistress ordered Dobby to get out before Dobby could try to save them!”

Harry blinked again, confused. Then, as the words sank in, his gaze snapped toward the manor, scanning the smoke-filled windows for any sign of them.

“Harry!” Mr. Snape shouted from above. “Don’t move! Dobby, keep him there while I find a way down!”

Mr. Snape couldn’t levitate himself like he’d done with Harry, nd the rest of the house was no longer accessible. The structure was collapsing, flames curling around every stone and wooden beam. Fire-snakes slithered across the walls. Dragons of smoke and flame roared down the hallways.

Everything inside was being devoured.

Everything and everyone.

“Mum!” Harry yelled, tearing away from Dobby and running toward the front of the house. The library was closer that way—that was where his parents usually met guests.. “Dad!”

Dobby chased after him, desperate. Mr. Snape wasn’t his master, but Dobby had already failed the ones who were. He would protect the boy, no matter what.

“MUM!”

Harry’s eyes stung with tears, blurring his vision.

“DAD!”

He was sobbing now—loud, messy, breathless. And he didn’t see them. The shadowy figures waiting along the path, just past the front gates. The ones who had stayed behind to catch any survivors.

“There’s the kid!”

“ Avada Kedavra! ”

Harry turned just in time to see the green light shooting toward him—only for it to strike something else instead.

Dobby.

The elf's small body hit the ground with a dull thud.

“No—!” Harry’s scream cracked through the night as he stumbled toward him, but the attackers were still there.

“You missed!”

“Ugh, that damn elf. I won’t miss again. Avada Ke-egh! —”

A black robe swept over Harry. Mr. Snape shoved him behind his body in one fluid motion and fired hexes at the attackers, trading deadly spells without hesitation. Harry could hear the sharp clash of magic, but all he could see was Dobby—motionless, eyes open but empty, lying in the grass like a broken toy.

“Harry,” Mr. Snape called, softer now, but firm. “Harry, we have to go.”

Harry didn’t respond. His wide green eyes lifted toward him, glassy with shock. In them, Snape saw not just a child—but grief. The kind of grief too big for someone so small. His parents. His home.

Snape saw not only his charge, the kid of his employers, but also the people who had become his friends. Lily’s eyes, James’s looks.

He found himself, too. 

He’d broken the rule.

Don’t get attached.

Don’t let it get personal.

Too late.

“I’ve got you,” Snape murmured, scooping the eleven-year-old into his arms and disapparating them away.

The crack of apparition was too loud in the unforgiving silence.

I’ve got you.

The wards had fallen.

The Peverells were dead.

Chapter Text

Harry woke early, as always. He got up, stretched, applied his eye drops, checked the wards around his room, and got dressed. Not a single ward had been disturbed during the night—a small victory. His wards were always sturdy, but other Omegas saw that as a challenge. And Severus, of course, had a habit of randomly choosing dorms to break into, only to test ward strength or reaction time.

He’d never admit it aloud, but Severus favored Harry. Treated him like a son more than an apprentice.

Harry felt the same. After his parents were murdered, Severus—his mentor and former nanny—took him in and enrolled him in the Omega Magical Academy, where he studied, lived, and taught when not on assignment.

At first glance, OMA looked like a typical boarding school for Omegas. But as Harry grew older and honed his specialty in Defense Against the Dark Arts, he was invited into a top-secret program: National Authority for Nurturing Youth —N.A.N.Y., for short.

Harry had snorted so hard when he first heard it, he choked on his saliva for a full three minutes before Severus cursed his legs to be like jelly. To have something to truly laugh about, he’d said.

Now, with only outstanding marks in every subject, Harry was ready.

He just hadn’t expected to be called the day right after graduation.

“Tom Riddle?” Harry asked, looking at the file Severus handed him. “As in the Gaunt family? I didn’t know they had a kid.”

“Four, technically. But only one heir,” Severus replied, pointing to the photo of a young girl. “Delphini Riddle. Her mother disappeared three months ago. No leads, no motives, nothing to explain why she left, if she left, or if she’s even alive. Mr. Riddle believes his daughter is in danger and requested our services to keep her safe.”

The Gaunts .

Harry glanced at the man’s photo. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark aura—even on paper.

“You have the right to decline,” Severus added quietly.

Harry shook his head.

“It won’t get personal,” he said firmly. “We don’t even know if they did it,” the memory of fire and screaming from his nightmares flickering in his mind. “Besides,” he looked at the girl. Four years old. As dark as her father, but with wide, innocent eyes. “A child needs our help. I’ll keep her safe.”

Severus studied him. Always so serious, the man’s gaze almost made Harry crack a joke just to deflect.

“I’m proud of you, Harry,” he said. “Help them, yes, but also remember your safety comes first. Call if you need anything,” he placed his hand over the younger Omega’s shoulder and squeezed. “And I mean anything .”

Harry covered the hand with his own and squeezed back.

“I promise,” he vowed. “It’s only for one year,” he smirked. “I’ll be back before you can miss me. Someone has to make sure those white hairs keep growing.”

Severus chuckled and pulled his son into an embrace.

“You cheeky brat,” he scolded playfully. “Be safe,” he whispered.

Harry didn’t reply—just held on.

By the next morning, Harry was gone.

He’d received some coordinates to apparate. He did so, cautious of his surroundings and the people mingling about. But to his surprise, it looked like a common Muggle neighborhood: shops, a park, joggers with dogs, and people rushing to work.

He scanned the place until he found him.

Sitting on a bench near the fountain was unmistakably Tom Riddle. Same hair, same aura, same nose and cheekbones. Harry transfigured his robe into something more discreet and got closer, only to be intercepted by a blond man who had been lurking by the sidewalk.

“Hey, what are you looking for?”

Harry tilted his head, sizing him up. Not a threat. A bodyguard, perhaps?

“Hi,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Harry. I have a meeting with Mr. Riddle.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, his magic brushing over Harry in a subtle but dangerous sweep.

“Huh,” he huffed. “Thought you’d be… bigger, I guess.”

Harry blinked, both offended and intrigued. He dropped his hand.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, I mean,” the man babbled. “I knew you’d be an Omega, but I imagined even an Omega bodyguard would be bigger. More imposing, you know?”

Harry stared until the man began to fidget.

“I don’t,” he finally said. “May speak to Mr. Riddle now?”

“Sure, sure! I’m Barty, by the way,” Barty replied, offering his hand now. Harry glanced at it, unimpressed. “Mr. Riddle’s waiting. You go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Harry said curtly, walking past. “I thought Betas were taller, too.”

Barty spluttered behind him. Harry ignored him.

Mr. Riddle glanced at him briefly before his eyes focused back on the little girl sitting at the fountain where she was feeding some ducks.

“I see Barty’s already said something idiotic.” Mr. Riddle’s voice was smooth and deep but with a dangerous undertone, like the caress of a knife before plunging into its victim. “I apologize.”

“No problem,” Harry shrugged. “I’m not here to socialize or make friends. Is that your daughter?”

Riddle arched an elegant eyebrow, studying him with more attention now.

“Yes,” he finally replied. “Delphini, or Delphi for short. She’s six. I trust you’re capable of ensuring her safety?”

“Of course,” Harry said confidently. “And petty arguments with your staff won’t interfere with it. I promise.”

Riddle nodded, satisfied, turning back to his daughter.

“I don’t expect you to be best friends with them,” he agreed. “However, I believe that good relations provide good results. Barty is my… assistant , and therefore, Delphi’s. You and he might spend more time together than you and I.”

Harry nodded in understatement.

“As I said,  I won’t let prejudice affect my job,” he said. “I practically grew up in OMA; however, I know how people see Omegas. I thought your team wouldn’t mention it since you contacted us.”

“And it shouldn’t happen,” Tom sighed. “Barty is just… Barty. You’ll likely witness him getting drinks thrown in his face more than once.”

“And he doesn’t retaliate?”

“He doesn’t need to,” Tom shrugged. “He knows he deserves most of it.”

“Huh,” Harry hummed. “As for Delphini,” he started. “Is there something specific you’d like me to teach her? I’m a Dark Arts master myself, focused on Defense. But I know my way around Potions and Transfiguration.”

“I’ve seen your records,” Tom interrupted. “Outstanding in everything but Herbology. You got the note anyway because of extra projects. You won’t be teaching her. Just keep her safe. Make sure she eats, plays, sleeps, and completes the tasks I assign.”

So Harry would be the glorified babysitter. A bodyguard-friend. He wondered how Delphi would feel about that. Then again, Severus had been his nanny, and he’d turned out alright.

“What about… emotionally?” Harry asked carefully. Tom’s gaze sharpened. Harry didn’t flinch. “I read her file. She lost her mother recently.”

“Leave that to her ,” Tom said coldly. “And to me. She knows she can come to me. She will, when she’s ready. Don’t push her,” he leaned closer. Harry could easily smell the Alpha musk coming off him. “Don’t push me either.”

Harry swallowed and nodded.

“Understood.”

“Good,” Tom said, rising to his feet. “Delphi! We’re going home!”

The little girl turned. She blinked at Harry, then narrowed her eyes. She approached, brushing crumbs from her green dress. Harry looked her over. She looked well taken care of. She didn’t smile, nor did she greet Harry, taking her father’s hand in hers and following in silence.

Harry was surprised to see a car waiting for them. Barty grinned from the driver’s seat and winked obnoxiously. Harry rolled his eyes and climbed in, sitting by the window with Delphi between him and Riddle. 

Delphi eyed him. Harry offered a polite smile. She moved closer to her father.

“Delphi, this is Harry,” Riddle introduced. “He’s your new nanny.”

She glared at Harry and stayed stubbornly in her father’s personal space.

“I don’t need a nanny,” she snapped. “You take me everywhere, Daddy.”

“Not anymore,” Riddle replied, though he didn’t pull away from her. “That’s what Harry is for. He can take care of you while I’m gone. And he can play with you when I’m busy.”

Harry offered his hand to the little girl. He had the impression she wouldn’t be impressed if he treated her like the little girl she was.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Delphini,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. I can teach you how to turn your daddy’s hair white,” he stage whispered, making her smile tentatively.

“Okay,” she shook his hand, returning to her seat. “I guess you can stay if you’ll teach me magic.”

“Oh, we don’t need magic for that,” Harry winked.

Riddle sighed in resignation. That made Delphi more sure she wanted to keep the new nanny.

“I guess I could ask Great-Uncle Morfin to take you away,” she said sweetly. “If you bore me or annoy me.”

Harry’s smile froze. Riddle stiffened beside her.

“Delphi—” he began sternly.

“It’s fine,” Harry said, sitting straighter. “I’ll just have to make sure I’m never boring or annoying, right?”

Riddle sent him a sidelong look. Even Barty chuckled

Harry would be lying if he said he was really fine with the girl’s words. He didn’t exactly fear Morfin Gaunt, but he knew the Gaunts had the biggest network and the darkest knowledge of magic. He wasn’t too sure if he could take Morfin or his allies in a duel—especially if it wasn’t a fair one.

He glanced out the window and sighed.

He was really going to have his hands full with Delphini.

What a task.

Chapter Text

Delphi was a quiet child.

In fact, she was too quiet for her own good.

At first, Harry thought nothing of it, taking advantage of her silence to stand back and keep an eye on her while she played with some dolls or practiced basic spells. She didn’t whine, didn’t ask for help, didn’t throw tantrums. She just… existed. Calm and watchful.

Nothing like Harry had been at that age.

He knew it likely stemmed from her recent loss, but still—there was something else. He didn’t want to think badly of Mr. Riddle. The Alpha clearly loved his daughter. But Severus had taught him how to spot signs of abuse. 

And there was more than one way to damage a child.

Harry had had Severus after the fire. Delphi deserved someone, too.

So Harry made a decision: whether Delphi appreciated it or not, he’d become a safe space for her.

Speaking of, Delphi had just finished her tasks for the day—light meditation and basic spells. They were in the garden of Mr. Riddle’s estate, the one used for his public business. Potion ingredients for magical clients, cleaning services for Muggles.

Harry had been surprised to learn Mr. Riddle operated in both worlds.

“ Pounds and pence can be exchanged for galleons ,” the man had said. “ I have several investments in Muggle companies. Delphi won’t need to work or worry about money when she’s grown .” And of course, they had less public business as well.

Harry was fairly certain she didn’t need to worry about money now, but who was he to argue?

The estate was massive. Riddle’s office sat on one side, Delphi’s room on the other. She wasn’t allowed past the office wards, and therefore, neither was Harry. Only Riddle, Barty, and a select few could pass unimpeded.

And those wards… they were no joke.

Harry had tried tweaking them on his first night, purely out of curiosity. The alarm nearly got him hexed by Riddle’s “associates.” If not for Barty, he’d probably be dead.

Mr. Riddle hadn’t been pleased, but his lips had twitched when Harry explained himself.

“Wanna play a game?” Harry asked, crouching down in front of his charge.

Delphi shook her head. 

She didn’t play silly games , no matter if she had never tried them before.

“A tea party?”

Another shake.

Harry accepted the rejection with a shrug. She had boundaries. He’d let her keep them.

“I—” Delphi hesitated. Her voice dropped as her fingers twisted in her lap. “Could we go for ice cream?”

Harry blinked. That was… unexpected. “Ice cream?”

She nodded.

That would mean leaving the estate, the wards. No one had said he couldn’t take her off the property, and she never asked for anything.

“Sure,” he said, offering his hand with a warm smile. “Let’s go.”

Once they each had a cone, Harry led her to a nearby park. They sat on a bench together, watching the other children play.

“They look normal,” Delphi said after a while. “Well, most of them.” Her nose scrunched as a boy ate sand from the sandbox.

Harry snorted. “I guess your ‘normal’ is different from his.”

She licked her ice cream thoughtfully.

“I can tell you now,” he added, “it’s not normal to have deadly bodyguards at home. And most kids don’t live in mansions.”

Delphi frowned, chewing that over. “Weird,” she mumbled, returning to her treat.

Later, she wandered off toward a fountain while Harry kept watch. He glanced at her, then at the other kids, wondering again how he could help her socialize better. Mr. Riddle was capable enough, but Harry knew he was as closed off as his child. He didn’t want Delphi to grow up like that: lonely.

And then—he felt it.

He stood immediately, wand sliding to his hand with a flick of his wrist.

“HARRY!” 

Harry whipped around in time to see Delphi disappearing into thin air. He ran to the fountain, casting Revelio to find any trace of his charge or her kidnapper.

“Shit,” he muttered, finding a sliver of magical residue. He grasped it before it could dissolve and pulled on his magic to direct him to its origin.

It was dangerous to apparate like that, with only a vague idea of what direction to take. Harry had done more dangerous things, though, so without hesitation, he apparated.

He landed heavily in the middle of a clearing. 

And he wasn’t alone.

“ Protego !”

His shield burst outward, flinging attackers in all directions. One tripped, one slammed into a tree, the third—still standing—raised a wand.

And Delphi, safely out of the battle but firmly in place with a rope wrapped around her arms and torso, was watching in fear. Her mouth was moving, but no sound came out. They had silenced her.

Harry’s eyes flashed gold, and he growled lowly under his breath.

He deflected a stunning spell with a twist of his wrist and retaliated with a silent Expulso . The standing man’s legs shattered beneath him with a scream.

The second attacker—now up—aimed a curse. Harry ducked, spun, and sent a Confringo to the head. It hit the ear. The man screamed, clutching the side of his face.

Harry followed with a cutting spell. The man dropped, throat bleeding, dead.

Only one left.

The broken-legged one whimpered as Harry approached, stepping on his knee.

“You’re going to tell me who sent you,” Harry said calmly. “If you lie, I’ll know. Don’t lie to me.”

Behind him, the last attacker—a woman—groaned.

She stood shakily. Then pointed her wand—at Delphi.

Wrong move.

“ Sectumsempra .”

The woman collapsed in a heap of shredded robes and blood.

The man at Harry’s feet screamed louder.

“You’re not professionals. You’re not trained enough,” Harry mumbled, mostly to himself. “You were just meant to scare me, weren’t you? Hurt me, maybe. But not Delphi. She was bait.”

“Not yet,” Harry hummed. “Now tell me. Who gave the order?”

“I—I don’t know his name,” the man stammered. “We—we just got gold. Said there’d be a target—Omega, dangerous—test the limits. That’s all I know. Please—!”

“Not good enough,” Harry said flatly.

The Cruciatus Curse wasn’t easy to cast. But Harry had learned long ago that some things come easier when you're not casting them in anger—but in cold, controlled calculation.

The man’s screams tore through the air.

Only a few seconds, then Harry stopped.

“Last chance,” he said. “Who gave the order?”

“…a—a blond man —black snake tattoo on his arm—said he worked for the Gaunt heir—said the kid would be safe, just wanted to see you fight, swear it—”

That was enough.

“ Avada Kedavra ,” Harry muttered flatly.

He looked down at his hands. Steady. Too steady. There was some blood on them, and on his clothes. He cast Scourgify to clean it, then turned to Delphi. 

She wiggled, trying to break free, and Harry waved his hand in her direction to dispel the ropes and the silencing charm.

“Are they- dead?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Harry said and held out his hand. “You're safe.”

She took his hand. It was small and cold in his.

“You… you killed them.”

“I did.”

“...Will Daddy be mad?”

Harry paused. “No. I think he was hoping I would.”

Later that night, Tom Riddle stood at the end of the hall when Harry returned with Delphi.

She was asleep in his arms.

Harry raised a brow. “Come to check if your trap worked?”

Tom’s expression didn’t shift, but something dark flashed behind his eyes. “She wasn’t harmed.”

“No thanks to you.” Harry brushed past him and carried Delphi to her room. When he returned, Tom was waiting.

“I expected you to subdue them,” Tom said. “Not kill three trained recruits.”

Harry crossed his arms. “They aimed at Delphi.”

“They were under strict orders not to hurt her.”

“She was silenced, bound, and used as bait. I don’t give second chances when a child is at risk.”

For a moment, the silence stretched.

Then Tom’s lips curled, the faintest smirk breaking through. “Efficient.”

Harry didn’t respond.

“I wanted to know how far you’d go,” Tom said. “Now I know.”

“Do you still want me here?”

Tom looked at him, gaze unreadable. “More than ever.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

Harry stared at his back until he disappeared around the corner.

He let out a breath, turned, and quietly walked to Delphi’s room.

She stirred as he laid her down, but didn’t wake.

Carefully, he tucked the blanket around her and knelt beside the bed.

“Your daddy is completely mad,” Harry murmured, brushing her bangs away from her forehead.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of dark eyes lingered in the doorway—calculating, quiet… and, for just a moment, warm.

This assignment was going to be more trouble than he’d expected.

Chapter Text

Harry’s and Delphi’s routine was easy: wake up, have breakfast, do study work, have a break, finish study work, have lunch, and then play, read, or spend time in the garden. It depended on Delphi’s mood, to be fair.

However, a day after the fake kidnapping, Harry decided to skip the study work and relax. Maybe as a kindness to Delphi—who’d technically been through something traumatic, even if she had known it was coming—or maybe as a silent protest against Mr. Riddle, who Harry was still furious with.

So, right after waking Delphi up, he took her to the kitchen. Still wearing pajamas and forgoing shoes. Delphi stole his hoodie, claiming she was cold, and Harry relented easily. He sat her on the counter and then went resolutely to the stove.

It didn’t go as planned.

“Why is it smoking?” he muttered, prodding the pan with his wand.

“Because the fire is too high,” Delphi said matter-of-factly from her perch on the counter. She looked a little ridiculous in Harry’s oversized hoodie. The sleeves hung well past her hands, but she looked quite pleased with herself.

“I’m a bodyguard, not a chef,” Harry grumbled, waving away the smoke and flipping the sad excuse for a pancake. It folded like a letter of resignation.

“You’re my nanny,” Delphi corrected primly. “Which means you have to feed me, protect me, and braid my hair. That’s the job.”

“Cooking was not in my training,” he frowned. “I thought it’d be similar to Potions,” he turned to the nervous elf waiting at the corner and offered a smile and a shrug. “You can finish breakfast. I failed.”

The elf rushed to take over, practically pushing Harry away from her precious stove. Delphi giggled into her hands, and Harry flopped down on a chair with a dramatic flair. He offered her the failed pancake with a teasing smirk.

“Bon appétit, princess.”

“It’s ugly,” Delphi sniffed.

“Well, so am I, but deep down you like me,” he pouted. “Try it?”

She snorted, taking a bite.

A soft cough from the doorway made Harry glance up—only to freeze when he saw Tom Riddle leaning against the doorframe, dressed in black slacks and a crisp shirt, hair still damp from a shower. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes flicked from the anxious elf cleaning and cooking to the flour on Harry’s cheek to the girl devouring a misshapen pancake like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

“We’re having a breakfast party,” Harry explained, as if daring Mr. Riddle to argue against his nanny choices. “After yesterday’s field trip , I decided to have a slow day.”

 “Relax. You’ve passed the loyalty test,” Tom held up a hand, almost amused. “No need to burn the house down proving it.”

“I didn’t burn anything down,” Harry muttered.

A small explosion sounded behind him, and the house-elf squeaked as he fixed Harry’s tea attempt. Harry blushed slightly. He had forgotten about that.

“Yet,” Tom added, stepping aside as Barty rushed in, wand in hand and half asleep, as if they were under attack.

Barty took in the smoke, the ruined pancake, the elf’s panicked expression, and the tea dripping down the side of a scorched cabinet.

“… You’re cooking?”

“I was trying,” Harry said with a pointed glare. “Pancakes are difficult.”

Barty looked at the elf, then at Tom, then at Delphi, still eating the disaster like it was a treat.

“Aren’t Omegas supposed to be good at cooking?”

To Harry’s utter surprise, Tom let out a sharp, genuine laugh when Harry’s wand flicked and a jet of freezing water blasted Barty in the face.

Delphi giggled too, but Harry thought she looked happier about her daddy’s mirt than Barty’s misery. He couldn’t help the soft smile that formed on his face as he watched the little girl.

After breakfast, Harry dragged Delphi back up to her room and pulled all her blankets and pillows onto the floor.

“Now what?” Delphi asked, eyeing him like he’d finally lost his mind.

“Now,” Harry declared with a dramatic wave of his hand, “we build a blanket fort.”

Delphi blinked at him, stunned.
“Why?”

“What do you mean why ?” Harry gasped, clutching his chest like he was having a heart attack. “You’ve never built one? That’s a crime. We’re fixing it right now. We can even invade the library. I’ll show you a cool trick to make the stories come alive.” He bundled up the blankets like it was a mission. “It’s just lights and sparks, but if you focus, they take shapes. Choose two books. I’ll teach you with one, and you can try the other.”

Delphi hurried after him, clearly intrigued by her nanny’s nonsense.

Together, they pushed and pulled chairs into a rough circle and covered them with blankets, stuffing the inside with pillows. Once Delphi got the idea, she bolted to her room, returning with her favorite toys and not two, but five books, including The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

“We need snacks,” she declared seriously. “Winky!”

The same elf from the kitchen appeared with a soft crack and a low bow.

“What can Winky do for Mistress Delphi?”

“We need snacks. And juice. Also—make this room darker.”

“Please,” Harry added with a look.

Delphi sighed, “ Please .”

“Of course, Mistress!” Winky squeaked. She snapped her fingers once, and a floating tray appeared, topped with fruit, crackers, cheese, and cookies. A jug of iced grape juice followed, along with two spill-proof, unbreakable glasses.

Another snap and thick curtains dropped over the windows, blocking out the sun. A soft golden glow from floating candles shimmered overhead, casting gentle twinkles like fairy lights.

“Wow,” Delphi breathed, eyes wide in wonder.

Harry grinned, heart light.

“Thanks, Winky,” he said. “This is perfect.”

The elf beamed, clearly pleased by her mistress’s delight, and vanished with another crack.

“Now then,” Harry turned to Delphi and offered his hand like a courtier. “My lady, if you’d follow me into your fortress? We have a show to prepare.”

Delphi giggled and skipped inside the fort behind him, grabbing a handful of cookies on the way. Harry floated in the tray, jug, and glasses with a flick of his wand and sealed the entrance behind them.

“First things first,” he said, holding up his empty hand.

With a spark of energy, golden lights shimmered between his fingers, dancing like fireflies.

“This,” Harry explained, “is the vermiculus spell. Wandless, non-verbal, and most importantly, non-flammable. Ready to learn some magic?”

Delphi’s grin was so bright, Harry thought they didn’t need the spell at all.

Delphi was sleeping peacefully in her blanket fort. Harry sat at the entrance, snacking from the tray that hovered beside him.

Once you got past her sudden violent threats and angry silences, Delphi was a truly sweet child. Innocent, imaginative, and extremely loyal to her father…

Honestly, if Harry hadn’t known Mr. Riddle’s line of work, he wouldn’t believe the kid was in any danger.

Then again, in a world like theirs, no child was ever truly safe.

He would focus on protecting Delphi. For now. But maybe… Maybe he could talk to Severus about expanding their business. Maybe they could do more than just protect the elite. Maybe they could protect every child.

“Harry?” Delphi sounded small,  scared.

“Hey, I’m here, Delphi,” he said gently. “You’re safe.”

“And you?” She asked, half-asleep. “Are you safe too?”

Harry’s smile turned a little sad.

“I am,” he assured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mommy used to say the same,” the kid mumbled, voice trembling a little.

Harry sat up straighter, concern sharpening in his chest. He crawled toward her and pulled her into his arms.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, holding her close. “Bad dream?”

“They took you,” she whimpered against his shoulder. “Like they took her.”

Harry’s eyes darkened.

“Your mama?”

Delphi didn’t answer, only clung to him tighter, like a little koala. Or a monkey. Or maybe a baby opossum.

She fell asleep again soon after, still curled against him.

Harry didn’t move. He felt if he did, she would wake up still panicking about whatever dream she had had before.

One thing was clear… Delphi saw what happened to her mother.

Chapter Text

Harry and Delphi were playing in the garden. Harry transfigured a rock into a dragon, and a tree into a tower, and he was mid-fight with the dragon while Delphini laughed merrily from her tower. He had to use a flower to transfigure it into a sword, and if he was being honest, he was also having the time of his life.

“Don’t fret, princess!” He exclaimed. “I’ll defeat the dragon and save you!”

Harry noticed Barty and Mr. Riddle watching from the second-floor window. But he couldn’t afford distractions; he had a dragon to slay.

“I wanna be the knight now!” Delphi yelled down at Harry.

Grinning, Harry froze the dragon mid-roar.

“Then I’ll be the damsel in distress,” he agreed without hesitation, making Delphi giggle behind her hands.

He helped her down from the tower and handed her the sword, after casting Spongify on both it and the dragon: it might be fake, but still, it was dangerous to get hit.

“Dragons breathe fire, don’t they?” Delphi asked, dragging the sword to the now-slow dragon.

“Delphi, your dad already told me not to burn the house down,” Harry said, climbing into the tower. “I’m trying to respect that rule at least.”

“Boring,” she huffed. 

Harry flicked his wand, and the dragon roared to life again, charging toward her. Delphi squealed and ducked behind the bushes.

“Knights are supposed to fight the dragons!” Harry teased, making the creature swoop low over her head and circle back to the tower. “Aren’t you going to save me?”

Delphi peeked out from behind a bush. Her eyes narrowed with determination as she focused on the dragon. Harry made it roar louder.

“Don’t worry, Harry!” she cried, running toward the tower, sword raised. “I’ll save you!”

“And I will help!” Barty appeared out of nowhere, sprinting alongside her.

“Barty!” Delphi whined. “I’m the knight, I’m supposed to save the princess!”

Barty was clearly laughing at Harry’s expense.

“Every knight needs a squire,” he shrugged. “I’ll assist you, brave knight, in your quest to rescue Princess Harry .”

His tone was serious enough to convince Delphi, who pointed her sword at the tower and shouted:

“Onward!”

Harry was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. He moved his wand like a puppeteer and directed it at the two knights trying to defeat it. Delphi’s squeals and bursts of laughter echoed across the garden, accompanied by Barty’s startled yelps when the dragon nearly toppled him.

“Don’t worry, Omega!” Barty smirked in his direction. “We will save you from the dragon. Then you can kiss us in gratitude,” he winked.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. With another flick of his wand, the dragon belched fire at Barty.

“Hey!” Barty yelped and dove for cover.

“You said no fire!” Delphi scolded, though she was grinning. “Do that again!”

“No! Don’t do it again!” Barty scrambled to his feet, fleeing from the dragon.

Delphi forgot she was supposed to be defeating the dragon, instead cheering it on as Harry shot harmless fireballs at Barty, vanishing them before they hit anything.

And then, he was swept off his feet.

“What-!?”

Harry would deny that he squeaked. He didn’t. Anyone who said otherwise was a big fat liar.

Mr. Riddle held him bridal-style, walking with infuriating confidence and a smirk playing on his lips.

Harry blinked up at him, stunned. At least Barty was now safe from fake-dragon fire.

“My Lady,” Mr. Riddle said smoothly, kneeling in front of Delphi and helping Harry back to his feet. “I have saved the princess for you.”

Delphi frowned at her sword, then looked at her father. After a pause, she smiled, stepping into the role of a merciful queen.

“Good job, Lord Dad,” she stated, placing the sword over Mr. Riddle’s shoulder. (Harry was so glad he’d spongified it.) “I name thee, Lord Dad, Nanny Savoir.”

Harry snorted. Barty, still catching his breath, burst out laughing.

“Now,” Mr. Riddle said, standing, “time to put the garden back in order. We have a dinner party to prepare for.” He didn’t sound thrilled. “Which means we’ll need robes and a quick refresher on the rules,” he added, looking more at Harry than at Delphi.

Delphi’s face lit up with excitement.

“New clothes!” She grabbed Barty’s hand and dragged him toward the house. “Come on, Barty, we need the car!”

“I think your dad said robes, nugget,” Barty replied, letting himself be pulled along. “That’s Diagon Alley, not London.”

“And where exactly is Diagon Alley?” Delphi asked with a smug little smirk.

Harry smiled at their backs. He was so happy to see Delphi out of her shell. He ended up more tired that way but… Totally worth it.

Someone cleared their throat behind him. Harry almost jumped. Almost.

“Nice transfiguration work,” Mr. Riddle said, eyeing the dragon and the tower.

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“Thanks,” he offered. Then he flicked his wrist, and the rock and the tree were back to their original forms.

Mr. Riddle’s gaze lingered a moment longer, subtle and unreadable, but Harry swore he saw a glint of approval

“Say,” he started. “I just saved you from a dangerous dragon from a very high tower,” he smirked down at Harry, Alpha scent playful. “Don’t I deserve a kiss?”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“You’re lucky the dragon’s gone,” he said. “Barty got fireballs for the same comment.”

“But Barty didn’t save you, did he?” Mr. Riddle’s voice had gone lower, his eyes darker, his scent sharper. “And your dragon- your magic. Truly exceptional .”

A blush crept up Harry’s neck before he could stop it. The scent, the voice, the gaze—it was too much.

“I-”

Then. Mr. Riddle took a step back. 

Harry blinked, clearing his mind.

“We’ll find you a proper robe,” Mr. Riddle said, back to business. Still intense, but guarded. “I’m thinking… green will suit you perfectly.”

With that, he turned around and walked to the house, leaving a confused and slightly breathless Harry behind.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry muttered.

Chapter Text

Harry pulled on the collar of his new robe. It was itchy and a bit uncomfortable. Green with a silver lining and complemented with black pants, a black shirt, and black shoes. Mr. Riddle also had Winky use something on his hair to make it more manageable and soft.

He felt ridiculous.

“Stop that,” Delphi admonished, slapping his hand away. She was putting some fake glitter stickers on his face. “You’re supposed to be a Lord of the Forest. Lords don’t fidget or pull on their robes.”

“You know a lot of Lords of the Forest?” Harry asked, smirking.

“Daddy knows lots of things, and he told me that,” Delphi replied. “There!”

Harry glanced at the mirror on her vanity and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Delphi had actually done a very good job. He didn’t look as ridiculous as he had expected. He actually looked very… ethereal.

“Wow, Delphi,” he awed. “This is great. You’re amazing! I feel like a Lord of the Forest.”

Delphi grinned proudly, hiding the Muggle stickers in one of her drawers.

“Now we are ready to meet the family,” the kid announced, dusting her brand-new lilac dress and white robe. “You’ll meet Granny, Uncle Morfin, Cousin Draco, Pansy, Theo,” she numbered with her fingers, then frowned. “I have so many cousins,” she breathed. “Don’t talk to Aunt Walburga unless you want a lecture, and avoid being alone with Uncle Cygnus; he likes to give etiquette lessons,” she shuddered.

“You’re the expert,” Harry shrugged, already planning on staying near his kid all night.

“Practice,” Delphi waved off, smiling warmly at her nanny. “And daddy’s advice,” she added as an afterthought.

Harry chuckled and followed her out of her room, only to find Mr. Riddle and Barty walking in their direction. Mr. Riddle stopped momentarily when he saw Harry, looking him over from head to feet with an almost hungry look. Harry couldn’t help but fidget under that dark gaze. Lord of the Forest be damned.

“Daddy!” Delphi ran to her father, breaking the spell between Alpha and Omega. “Harry did my braid today! Isn’t he getting better?”

Barty closed the distance with Harry and leaned against the nearest wall with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Who knew you’d look so dashing in green, nanny?” He said with a knowing look. “Were you aware those are the colors of the Gaunt Faily?”

Harry’s eyes widened. He hadn’t thought of it. Delphi was definitely not wearing green and silver. But now that he could focus again (with those eyes firmly on a kid and not on him) he noticed Mr. Riddle was wearing a matching robe: silver, with a green lining and similar dark clothes underneath.

Harry’s wide eyes found Barty’s knowing ones.

Suddenly, he wanted to flee and become an actual Lord of the Forest,

“Barty,” Mr. Riddle warned, then, not stepping over any other invincible boundary, he turned to Delphie and offered his hand. “Shall we?”

Delphi grinned and grabbed her father’s hand, allowing Harry and Barty to follow at a safe distance. Allowing Harry to breathe and come up with a logical reason as to why Mr. Riddle dressed him in his family colors.

In ancient times, that was part of a claim . A sign that an Omega was part of a pack and unavailable for other Alphas.

Was Mr. Riddle worried his extended family might try something on Harry? The Blacks were known traditionalists, maybe he worried one of them would try to claim Harry if they thought the Omega was available.

Yes. That should be it.

Why didn’t he ask Harry to wear scent blockers instead?

“Hey, Harry,” Barty asked when they took their places near the main entrance to welcome the first guests. “You’ll dance with me, right? These reunions can be rather tedious, but I bet we can have some fun.”

“Depends on your idea of fun,” Harry said, treating carefully.

“Ah? Oh! No!” Barty shook his head, showing his hands in surrender. “I swear I only use innuendos to rile you up,” he smiled sheepishly. “I mean good fun. As friends,” he cleared. “Or, colleagues with good rapport, you know what I’m saying.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, staring until the Beta started to fidget. Then he smiled charmingly.

“Of course I’ll dance with you, Barty,” he agreed. Barty was thrown off whack by the sudden shift in personality, causing Harry to grin. “Right after my obligatory dance with Miss Delphini, Lady of the Dragon Realm.”

Mr. Riddle snorted, hiding it behind a fake cough.

“Stop fooling around, you two,” he ordered, back in control. “Harry, you can stay with the children while everyone arrives. Then I want you near me for the duration of the party.”

Harry stared confused at his boss.

“What? Then who’s protecting Delphi?”

“Are you insinuating my family would try anything against my daughter in my own home?”

A beat of silence.

“Yes?” Harry replied, slowly, as if testing the waters. Then he shook his head when Mr. Riddle shot him a look . “No, of course not. Sir.”

“Harry is-”

“An adult who shall spend time with other adults,” Mr. Riddle interrupted his daughter in a soft, understanding tone. “You can play Forest Lords and Dragons Lady tomorrow. I’ll even get you a more fitting robe,” he crouched in front of her, arranging her robe to cover her shoulders better. “Tonight, you look more like my princess.”

Delphi glanced at Harry with a pout. She didn’t argue against her dad, though, nodding in understanding.

“He’ll keep the glitter, right?”

“I’ll glue it myself with magic,” Mr. Riddle promised.

Harry opened his mouth to object, but Barty shushed him and straightened his posture, making him look taller and… smarter in his dark brown robes.

“Tom!” An old lady walked in. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been, my sweet?”

Mr. Riddle looked slightly uncomfortable at the attention, glancing at Harry to gauge the Omega’s reaction when his mother took him into her arms, coddling him. 

Harry grinned.

“Mother,” Mr. Riddle greeted. “Nice to see you again. I thought you would arrive with Uncle Morfin.”

“Nonsense, I can apparate myself,” Lady Merope said, shaking her hand. “I couldn’t wait another second to see you. And you!” She turned to the little girl, trying to become invisible. “My, you’re more adorable every time I see you, dear Delphi.”

“Hello, grandma,” Delphi greeted with a somewhat strained smile.

Harry realized why she wasn’t too happy to see her grandma when the woman painfully pinched her cheek. 

And then Merope’s eyes found the Omega standing behind her son. In their family colors.

“Barty will escort you inside, mother,” Mr. Riddle cleared his throat quickly. “I’ll wait for another couple of minutes and then join you. I have news on the Indian Silk you wanted.”

Merope narrowed her eyes at her son but willingly followed a flirtatious Barty into the ballroom.

Harry got the impression Mr. Riddle didn’t want anyone talking to him. Maybe that’s why he wanted Harry with him all night. That way, he could control the narrative and conversations.

The clothes were still kind of a mystery, though.

As more guests arrived, Harry stood dutifully by the entrance, nodding and smiling as Delphi greeted her endless parade of relatives like a tiny politician. 

Mr. Riddle sighed in exhaustion, turning to Harry and Barty.

“Let’s go inside,” he ordered. “Whoever arrives later than this can come find me themselves,” then he turned to Delphi. “You can go play with your cousins now.”

Delphi grinned and fled immediately to find the kids who had already arrived. Harry watched her back in part with envy and protectiveness.

“See you at the dance floor then,” Barty smirked at him in farewell and disappeared behind the ballroom door.

“Harry,” Mr. Riddle got his attention back, offering his arm.

Harry stared at it, sunned, before reaching slowly to take the offered arm.

He followed Mr. Riddle to the ballroom, looking like a couple, ignoring the whispers and murmurs. Mr. Riddle dragged him to Narcisa and Lucius Malfoy. Narcisa was a Black, connected to the Gaunts somewhere in their family tree. They had a young boy around Delphi’s age, and Harry took the opportunity to glance around the room in search of his child.

Surely they wouldn’t be to far from their kid, right? Delphi must be close.

Narcisa and Lucius shot him curious glances, but didn’t mention anything when Mr. Riddle simply started a conversation. Harry didn’t attract attention to himself either. Let them think what they wanted or what Mr. Riddle wanted them to think, more likely.

“Oh no,” Narcisa’s voice pulled his attention. “Who let him in?”

Him in question was a young man with shoulder-length curly black hair and grey eyes. A familiar resemblance to Narcisa, but none of her pose or elegance. 

The man was wearing Muggle clothes, to begin with. Black jeans and a leather jacket. He looked ready to start trouble, and Harry straightened and kept his attention on the man.

He stepped away from Mr. Riddle, only to glance at the corner where Delphi was playing with three other kids. Making sure they were far away from the predator entering the scene.

When he looked back, the man’s eyes found Harry’s.

With sure steps and ignoring the glares he received, the man closed the distance with Harry.

“Well, hello, ” he said, breathing in deeply the obvious Omega scent. His eyes widened. “I was told there’d be dullness and disappointment tonight, but clearly someone lied.”

“Excuse me?” Harry blinked.

“You must be the mysterious nanny.” The man took his hand and kissed the air above it. “Or perhaps… the forest spirit haunting my dreams?”

“Oh Merlin,” Harry muttered, pulling his hand back. “You’re worse than Barty.”

“Blond, Beta, talks too much? I’m hotter,” he winked. “Also, I’m an Alpha. Sirius Black at your service.”

“Is that your version of a warning label or a pickup line?” Harry shot back, amused despite himself. “Pleasure, Mr. Black.”

“Sirius is fine,” Sirius grinned like a fox.

“Harry,” the Omega offered, professionally shaking the man’s hand.

Behind them, Mr. Riddle’s footsteps echoed closer, calm but deliberate. His voice, when it came, was smooth as ever.

“Black.”

Sirius didn’t flinch. 

“Cousin.”

“You’re crowding my staff.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. Interesting choice of words.

Sirius smirked and took a polite step back, hands raised. 

“Just saying hello. Your staff has quite the bite.”

Mr. Riddle’s eyes never left Harry. 

“Only if provoked.”

Before Harry could ask what that was supposed to mean , a strange silence fell over the room. The air shifted, thicker, colder. Delphi, who had been bouncing around the corner with her cousins, paused mid-spin and ran to Harry with wide eyes.

“Who’s that?” Harry asked softly.

Mr. Riddle’s jaw tightened.

“Morfin Gaunt,” he said. “My uncle.”

Sirius stood taller, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harry felt suddenly like prey. Delphi was standing in front of him, looking ahead. Mr. Riddle was to his right, and Black was on his left. As if they were protecting him, or shielding him.

He focused on the man in question: tall, robed in deep forest green, with piercing eyes like cracked glass. Something about him made the air feel unclean.

He took one look at Harry and sneered.

“So, this is the Omega,” Mr. Gaunt said. His voice sounded like splinters. “The one the child clings to.”

Harry didn’t back down. He stepped slightly in front of Delphi, gaze even.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m her nanny.”

Mr. Gaunt tilted his head. “A pretty thing. Strange choice for a guard.”

Harry smiled with no humor. 

“Strange times.”

Mr. Gaunt’s lip curled, but he said nothing more, just turned away like Harry wasn’t worth arguing with. 

“Nephew,” he greeted Mr. Riddle in passing.

“Uncle,” Mr. Riddle greeted back, but stood firmly in Harry’s space when the man motioned for him to follow.

Harry could see how that annoyed Mr. Gaunt. He just hoped they didn’t pay for it later on. Morfin Gaunt looked like those Alphas who couldn’t control their emotions.

“Delphini,” Mr. Gaunt called. “Come, child. Tell me all about your studies.”

Delphi glanced unsurely at Harry and her dad. Mr. Riddle gave a curt nod, and she hurried to talk to her great-uncle: the head of her family.

Harry tensed, keeping his gaze on them. Mr. Riddle crowded him. Harry could easily smell his scent, and his shoulders tensed a bit more. Unnoticed, but there.

“You handled that well,” he murmured.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Harry replied. “But Delphi is. I’ll stay close.”

“I was counting on it,” Mr. Riddle said, and then, before Sirius or Barty or anyone else could jump in, he offered his hand. “Dance with me.”

“What?” Harry blinked. 

“Dance with me,” Mr. Riddle repeated, tone light but firm. “Delphi will be busy for now, and Barty is currently trying to get into Rabastan’s pants,” he grimaced. Harry glanced Barty’s way and found him, in fact, chatting up an Omega. “So, I’ll take advantage of that and dance with you myself.”

“You sure?” Harry hesitated, smirking despite himself. “Your family already has opinions.”

Tom’s eyes darkened with amusement.

“Let them talk.”

Barty smirked from across the room. Delphi grinned in approval, watching from where she sat with her grandmother and great-uncle.

And Sirius… Sirius cackled and moved away before Harry or Tom could say something. Sirius did send Harry a knowing smirk. Harry had the impression Tom asked him right before Sirius had the chance… And when did he become “Tom”?

Harry rolled his eyes and took Mr. Riddle's hand.

“If I fall,” he warned, “I’m blaming the shoes.”

Tom smiled, genuinely, just for him.

“I won’t let you fall.”

Chapter Text

Dinner was good, quiet. Mr. Riddle was still keeping close to Harry, much to the Omega’s concern and confusion. When dessert was finished, the children were allowed to run around for fifteen more minutes, then Mr. Gaunt gave the order.

“Time for business, boys.”

Mr. Riddle sighed softly. Only Harry, standing close beside him, noticed.

“Harry, please take Delphi to her room,” Mr. Riddle said. “Time for bed, I think.”

Harry nodded, sending a reassuring smile to the Alpha. He’d make sure Delphi was in bed, safe and sound. Barty immediately took Harry’s place next to Mr. Riddle, slipping back into his bodyguard-slash-assistant role.

“Good luck, pretty,” Sirius mumbled as Harry walked past.

Harry gave him a look, but Sirius was already facing Mr. Gaunt again.

“Come on, Delphi,” Harry called. “Time for bed.”

“Aw,” Delphi yawned. “But I’m not tired.”

“Draco and Pansy are going home too, kiddo,” Harry explained as Narcissa also approached to pick up her son. “The party’s over and the grown-ups are going to talk about boring stuff now,” he grimaced, making the girl giggle.

Narcissa chuckled under her breath, nodding in agreement.

“See you soon, precious,” Narcissa told Delphi. “Draco, say goodbye to your cousin.”

Draco waved goodbye, bowing a little like the little lord he was learning to be.

Delphi took Harry’s hand and followed him up the stairs.

“I had fun,” she mumbled. “You distracted Daddy perfectly,” she smiled, eyes sleepy but mischievous.

Harry huffed. “Glad to be of service.”

“Harry?” she whispered once she was in bed, tucked in and blinking slowly. “Don’t speak to Uncle Morfin,” she pleaded. Harry had to kneel and lean close to hear her. “Mommy used to say he was dangerous. And one day…” her eyes teared up.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Harry hushed. “I’ll be safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Harry answered firmly.

He knelt by her bedside, gently running his fingers through her hair until she fell asleep.

Then he stood up and went to his own room. He had no interest in hearing about the Gaunts’ business. He threw the fancy robes into the laundry basket and pulled on his pajamas.

He didn’t know when exactly he fell asleep, but the smell woke him up.

Fire .

Fighting flashbacks, Harry scrambled to his feet and kicked his door open, sprinting into the corridor. Smoke curled thick as velvet through the hall, choking him as fiery snakes slithered up the stairs, hissing and snapping, setting everything ablaze.

“Delphi!” Harry shouted, wand already in his hand. He ran to her door, coughing as smoke clawed at his lungs.

He burst into her room. Flames were already crawling up the curtains, casting orange and crimson shadows over the pale walls. Delphi sat up, eyes wide, coughing violently.

“Harry!” she cried.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Harry said, voice shaking. He flicked his wand at the curtains.

“Aguamenti!”

A jet of water shot out, hissing where it struck the flames. But for every patch of fire he quenched, another sprang up along the floor, coiling and slithering like serpents determined to trap them.

“Come on,” Harry urged. He grabbed Delphi’s hand and pulled her out of bed. She stumbled, crying, barefoot on hot floorboards that scorched her toes.

They made it to the doorway, but a coil of flame lunged like a cobra, snapping at Harry’s legs. He yanked Delphi back just in time, but heat blistered his arm where the flames grazed his skin.

Delphi screamed, clutching her face.

“Hold on to me!” Harry ordered, wrapping an arm tightly around her. He tried to shove forward, but the flames roared higher, swirling into a fiery wall that barred the way.

He spun on the spot, trying to Apparate.

But nothing happened. He tried again. Magic slammed into his ribs, as though he’d run into a solid wall. Anti-Apparition wards. Of course.

“Harry!” Delphi sobbed. “It hurts!”

“Shh, I know.” Harry was trembling. His lungs burned from the heat and smoke. His eyes watered so badly he could barely see.

And for a split second, the world flickered.

He was eleven again, trapped in the burning wreckage of a house in Godric’s Hollow. Flames had devoured the walls. The smell. The panic. The heat… “Where are Mum and Dad?” . The memory slammed into him like a curse—

“Harry!” Delphi’s sobs ripped him back to the present.

Suddenly, a blast of cold air and green sparks tore through the flames in the hallway. Barty appeared, coughing and disheveled, his wand cutting wild slashes through the air.

“Harry, this way!” Barty yelled. “They’re in the east wing—whoever the fuck they are. Tom’s holding them off!”

Barty lunged forward and grabbed Delphi, hauling her close. His eyes darted to Harry, half panic, half relief.

“Go!” Barty barked.

Harry stumbled after them, shielding Delphi as best he could. They barreled into the hallway, but attackers were already swarming through shattered windows and splintered doors—masked witches and wizards in dark cloaks. Spells screamed through the air in red, blue, and gold arcs.

Harry shoved Delphi behind him, wand raised, casting rapid Protego after Protego . Sparks exploded against his shields, showering him with heat and light.

“Harry!” Mr. Riddle’s voice boomed above the chaos. He was dueling three attackers at once, every movement fast and lethal. He cut one down with a silent curse and pushed toward Harry, wand slicing vicious arcs.

“Get her out of here!” Tom shouted.

“I’m trying!” Harry yelled back, deflecting a hex that shattered a mirror beside him. Shards of glass sliced his cheek and scattered across the floor.

Tom grabbed Harry’s arm, eyes blazing.

“Take her to the south corridor. Barty knows the passage. MOVE!”

But before Harry could obey, an attacker shoved through the smoke, wand aimed directly at Delphi.

“ Avada —”

Harry screamed and threw himself in front of her. A jet of green light erupted from the wand tip, streaking toward them.

Tom tackled the attacker sideways, slamming him into the wall. The Killing Curse fizzled harmlessly into the ceiling.

Barty seized Delphi and pulled her behind a toppled dresser, shielding her small form.

“Harry, let’s go!”

But Harry was staggering. The heat. The smoke. The ringing in his ears. Blood dripped steadily from a cut above his eyebrow. He raised his wand again, his hand shaking.

Dobby's small body hit the ground with a dull thud.

“Avada Kedavra!” Harry cast wildly, killing every dark-robed person that crossed his eyesight.

He had to protect Delphi.

He had to keep her safe.

He had to keep them safe.

An attacker lunged from the side.

“ Stupefy !”

Harry’s world tilted sideways. The last thing he saw was Delphi’s terrified face before the spell struck him square in the chest, and the world went black.

Chapter Text

Harry’s eyes opened slowly. The light hurt, so he squeezed them shut again, then forced them open, knowing he had to face whatever was next.

He was in an unfamiliar bedroom. His glasses were gone, and no one had applied the 24-hour sight-correcting potion.

So, blurry vision, unknown bed, no sign of Delphi. No trace of Mr. Riddle. Not even Barty’s vanilla scent.

He panicked.

He leapt from the bed and blew the door open with a sharp swish of magic. He glanced around before bolting in search of an exit.

His wand was on the bedside table.

So were his glasses.

He narrowed his eyes and put them on, grabbed his wand, and turned to the door when he heard footsteps scrambling closer. He took a defensive stance, ready to kill and interrogate whoever it was about Delphi’s whereabouts.

Delphi ran into the room.

“Harry!”

He caught her mid-run, pulling her into a protective hug and subconsciously scenting her, leaving his own faint trace over her.

“Glad you’re awake, kid,” Sirius Black said from the door. Harry’s head snapped up. “We thought you’d be out longer after that magical explosion,” Sirius added casually.

Mr. Riddle and Barty stood behind him, observing. Mr. Riddle looked… was he blushing? And Barty was grinning like an idiot.

Harry glanced down and blanched. He was wearing only a t-shirt and something that barely counted as shorts. He flushed furiously and repositioned Delphi, placing her in front of him like a very convenient living shield.

“So,” Barty said, far too smug, “were you ever going to tell us you’re a necromancer, or…?”

“I’m a what?” Harry squeaked.

Delphi giggled.

“What do you remember?” Mr. Riddle asked with narrowed eyes, thankfully keeping them on Harry’s face.

Harry racked his brain. Dinner party. Dancing. Putting Delphi to bed. Going to sleep.

“There was a fire,” he croaked. “I couldn’t get Delphi out the window. Barty led us to you. We were attacked.”

“Then you got hit,” Barty nodded. “And all the people you’d killed before that? Just… rose from the dead and attacked our attackers!”

Harry blinked. Delphi blinked. Mr. Riddle continued to study him.

“I wasn’t there,” Sirius piped up, “but I would’ve loved to see it. It’s been a while since I met a necromancer.” His eyes flicked over Harry with some unreadable expression.

“But-”

“I thank you, Harry,” Mr. Riddle said softly, bowing his head. “You saved us. Against all odds. We weren’t meant to survive that night.”

“But who attacked us?” Harry asked, finally finding his voice.

The attack had been very similar to the one against his family. Even the dark cloaks. They had been the same, hadn’t they? They had attacked Delphi to kill her, just like he had been attacked when he was eleven. 

One thing was certain: Mr. Riddle hadn’t been behind it.

But someone in his family…

“We don’t know,” Barty said. At Mr. Riddle’s look, he added, “Yet.”

“Now that you’re awake, you can help us investigate,” Mr. Riddle said, tone unreadable. “Unless you’d rather resign. I know your contract has some escape clauses.”

Harry hesitated. Severus would let him return, probably hoped he would. But Delphi needed him. So did Mr. Riddle. Even Barty was counting on him to keep the small family safe by the looks of it.

And what were they saying about necromancy?

“Before you make any decisions,” Sirius said, stepping forward, “I want to talk to you.”

Mr. Riddle stepped closer in a possessive and protective manner. It confused Harry.

“What’s your business with my nanny, Black?” he all but growled.

“Relax your canines, Riddle,” Sirius muttered. “If Harry wants to tell you after, he will.”

“It’s fine,” Harry cut in before it escalated. “Wanna show Daddy how to make omelets?” he asked Delphi with a forced smile. “I’m a little hungry.”

Delphi narrowed her eyes. He must still look pale or off, because she nodded and turned to her father without a fight.

“Come on, Daddy,” she ordered. “Harry needs food. He’s not usually good at cooking, imagine now that he’s all sick.”

Barty snorted and followed the Riddles downstairs. Harry couldn’t listen to Mr. Riddle’s protests, but, by the sound of it, there was at least one.

Sirius was watching Harry like he was something fragile and rare. It made Harry uncomfortable. 

“You look a lot like your dad,” he finally said.

Harry’s heart jumped.

“Wha-”

“Lily’s eyes, of course,” Sirius added quickly. “She used to say if it weren’t for that, you’d be James’s clone. And we’d all be doomed.”

“But-”

“I know,” Sirius sighed. “Truth is, I was your father’s best friend. Or so I thought.” He looked away, shoulders tense. “He called me his brother. Said if all Alpha brothers were like me, he was glad he was an only child. Can’t blame him. Even as an Omega, he was a pretty good leader and an awesome dueler.”

“You knew my parents,” Harry said, hollowly.

“Yeah,” Sirius grimaced. “We were all in the business. Lily too. Her family mostly worked the Muggle side, but she learned how to add magic into it fast enough.”

“My mother… what?”

Sirius looked at him then, really looked at him. 

“You didn’t know?”

“That my parents were in the business?” Harry shook his head. “No.”

“Didn’t you use to have a nanny like yourself?”Sirius raised an unimpressed brow. “Come on, kid, don’t tell me you didn’t figure it out.”

Harry blinked. 

“I mean, yes, but I thought they worked for someone powerful. I didn’t think-”

“Oh, they were the powerful ones,” Sirius nodded solemnly. “They were the big bosses themselves. The Peverell name was growing real big and real fast,” then he sobered up. “And, unfortunately, some people didn’t like that.”

“The Gaunts?”

“Wish it were that simple,” Sirius muttered. “I’ve been looking into it myself, see?. Would’ve been long gone if it weren’t for that mystery. Last night was… eye-opening.” 

Harry’s thoughts were still a turmoil, but he forced himself to focus on the task. 

“You think it wasn’t Gaunt.”

“I know so now,” Sirius nodded. “Morfin’s mad, sure, but he loves that little heir of his. Wouldn’t hurt her. Not even through Tom.”

Harry frowned.

“Her mother?”

“Another mystery,” Sirius said. “My dear cousin. Crazy, yes. But she loved her kid. Morfin tolerated her fine. I suspected Tom at first, but… Bella was respected. Untouchable. Also, I might have dosed him with a drop of Veritaserum while you were sleeping,” he barked a laugh. “He didn’t notice.”

Harry scowled at knowing the Alpha in front of him had tricked his Alpha into a potion. He would be speaking with Mr. Riddle about checking what he ingested from then on.

“What else do you know?” he asked. “Anything could help.”

“We can discuss that with the others. But first…” Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like an old blanket. “This was your father’s. Family heirloom. He sent it to me before everything went to hell. Told me I’d know when to give it back,” he teared up. “I never thought-” he stammered. “I never thought he meant I’d be giving it back to his family, not him .”

Harry took it, skeptical. It looked… plain.

“Err, thanks?”

Sirius barked another laughed. It sounded like he was making fun of the younger wizard.

“Try it on.”

Harry frowned at the cloak, but, accepting it as a family heirloom, he draped it over himself and gasped when his body vanished.

“An invisibility cloak!”

“Still works. Your dad used it for all kinds of shady nonsense,” Sirius smirked. “It was part of his business. As was the little trick you pulled yesterday. Not anyone can call on the death like that, you know? Peverells were known for necromancy, too.”

“I’d never done anything like that,” Harry said, pulling off the cloak and shoving it under his shirt. “Aren’t necromancers supposed to study and experiment for most of their lives?”

“Maybe not on purpose. But not everyone has to study necromancy. Some are born with it. Like metamorphmagic.” Sirius smirked, but it died down quickly after a second. “James should’ve taught you, trained you. I know nothing of it, but I do have some books that might be useful.”

“I’d like those books,” Harry smiled gratefully at the man, scent happy and comforting.

Sirius’ smile was sad, probably looking at Harry and seeing his old friends in him. Severus used to look at him like that sometimes, at the beginning, right after he took him in. Luckily, he understood rather quickly that Harry was his own person. Harry hoped Sirius would understand that, too, and that they could get to know each other as well.

“Now let's go see that Alpha of yours,” Sirius stated, turning around and leading the way. “There are some pants in the drawer next to the bed, unless you want to continue wearing that, I won’t complain,” he snickered. “And I’m sure Riddle won’t complain either.” 

“He’s not-” Harry started, then looked down at himself and remembered he had no clothes on. “I’m not- I’ll be down in a sec!” 

Sirius waved him off and walked down the stairs. “Kitchen is down, first door to the left.”

Harry blushed furiously as Sirius disappeared down the stairs.

Chapter Text

“So, you’re a Peverell.”

Harry stopped mid-bite. Sirius’ house elf had made them sandwiches among unhappy grumbling and grunts, but it was good, better than Delphi’s own attempt at an omelette (Harry still ate it, though).

Mr. Riddle was looking at him with dark eyes and newfound interest. However, the intensity was the same as before.

“I thought they were all dead,” Barty said rather insensibly.

“Now that I think about it,” Mr. Riddle began, narrowing his eyes still on Harry. “You do look rather familiar.”

Delphi munched on her sandwich, turning her head between Harry and her father in curiosity. She looked safe and content enough, considering what had happened the night before. While Harry took her in, alive and safe, he vowed to keep it that way no matter what.

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry waved them off, glaring at Sirius, who kept snickering under his breath after they told them about Harry’s true origins. Mr. Riddle’s lovesick glance wasn’t helping. “You know how my parents-” he glanced at Delphi, still focused on their conversation. “You know about the fire?”

Barty cocked his head in confusion, probably thinking about last night’s fire. Mr. Riddle’s eyes widened in realization.

“Same M.O.,” Mr. Riddle muttered, causing Sirius to shut and sit up.

“I always figured it was your family,” Harry said with a tired smile. “Severus told me the Gaunts and my parents didn’t exactly get along.”

“And everyone knows Morfin’s favorite attack,” Mr. Riddle nodded slowly. “To be fair, he hadn’t used Fyendfire ever since he took over the family. When Marvolo died, almost twenty years ago.”

“Still sounds like a family signature,” Barty added unhelpfully. “Even the Blacks began using it when they mated with the Gaunts. Or at least Bella did.”

Mr. Riddle growled lowly, and Barty’s eyes widened when he realized his mistake. No one ever spoke of Mr. Riddle’s late wife.

“Speaking of,” Sirius jumped to his feet, dusting his hands. “Barty, why don’t I show you and Delphi Bella’s old clothes. Maybe you can find something for the little princess.”

Delphi’s eyes widened. Looking torn between asking more questions and avoiding the topic completely, she followed Sirius while dragging a nervous Barty behind.

Mr. Riddle looked as hesitant as Delphi, looking close to following them as well.

“She’ll be fine,” Harry whispered, looking at the table. “She needs this.”

“She still hurts when thinking about her mother,” Mr. Riddle argued.

“And I bet Sirius has some other stories you don’t know about,” Harry countered. “Stories from their childhood, perhaps, before she had to take on a dangerous role. Before she was taken right in front of her eyes,” he added, eyes flicking to watch Mr. Riddle’s reaction.

He slumped on his chair, less elegant than Harry had ever seen him.

“She saw it, didn’t she,” it wasn’t really a question. “I thank you, Harry,” Mr. Riddle turned suddenly serious, the full weight of his gaze on the omega. “I feel like I’ve failed Delphi for a long time now. And you, she really flourished with you. A lot more than she had been doing with only me, anyway. When I looked at her,” he took a deep breath. “I could see myself at her age. Already daring, trained, desensitized,” he looked away with a forlorn sigh. “That’s why I decided to look into OMA. That and my instincts telling me Delphi was not safe after what happened to Bella.”

“It must be connected,” Harry agreed, tapping a finger on the table. ““Someone didn’t like the Peverells gaining ground. And now someone is trying to get the Gaunt heir out of the way. Thinking about it, Delphi was supposed to die in the fire. Meanwhile, you were supposed to die under the hitwizards' attack.”

“I think it is family,” Mr. Riddle whispered. “The problem is, I have no idea who has a grudge against me. We all have our roles in the game. Everyone agreed to follow my uncle’s lead, and in turn, my lead once the time comes.”

Harry frowned and stood up, pacing behind the chair. It helped him think.

“Well, think about it,” he snapped, mostly to himself, but Mr. Riddle straightened in his chair too. “Who would gain anything from killing you and Delphi?” He asked, thinking of their family tree. “Who’s next in line?”

Harry knew he was on the right path when Mr. Riddle also looked deep in thought. They had been thinking about enemies and territory when they should’ve been investigating personal gain inside the family. Delphi was not only Mr. Riddle’s daughter, but she was also Bella’s. Delphi was as much a Black heir as she was a Gaunt. However, while she was the only Gaunt heir, she was only first in line for the Black side of the family.

“It’s not about the Gaunts,” Harry stopped, eyes widening in realization.

“It’s about the Blacks,” Mr. Riddle finished, reaching the same conclusion.

“Would Narcisa-?”

“I don’t think so,” Mr. Riddle shook his head. “Bella used to be very protective over her sisters. At least she loved them. But-”

“Sisters? As in plural?” Harry’s head snapped up.

“Narcisa you’ve met,” Mr. Riddle nodded. “Andromeda… She disappeared long before our marriage contract existed. I don’t know anything about her.”

“She married a muggle,” Sirius said from the doorway, startling them both. “So my father ordered her killed. Luckily, her daughter turned out to be a metamorphmagus,” he explained drily, no inflection or emotions. “She’s been living in hiding. No one knows where she is or if she's even alive anymore. One thing is clear,” he added, locking eyes with each of them. “Andromeda had no interest in the business or the family. She never wanted or introduced her daughter to this life.”

Mr. Riddle looked dubious. Harry hummed, tapping his chin with a finger.

“Narcisa has a son, too,” he finally said. “Draco is the Malfoy heir. What if Narcisa, or Lucius, wanted more?”

Mr. Riddle’s eyes narrowed. Barty and Delphi chose that moment to make an entrance, Delphi twirling around, showing off a pretty old-fashioned blue dress.

“Look, Daddy!” She squealed. “Do I look pretty?”

Mr. Riddle’s eyes widened and he looked… shocked.

“Very pretty, Delphi,” he answered.

Harry looked at the kid. He only saw one of Bella’s pictures, but he could bet she looked just like her mother in that moment. 

“I’ll take care of Delphi,” Sirius said. “Can’t exactly get involved if you’re going to visit my dear cousin. Just do me a favor and leave the kid alone. He’s as guilty as little princess here,” he asked of them, looking vulnerable for a second, even slightly tilting his head to show his throat to Mr. Riddle.

Harry nodded, stepping in between the Alphas. Even if Mr. Riddle had other ideas, he would protect Draco as much as he would defend Delphi.

“You should stay too,” Mr. Riddle told Harry. “I pay you for that, do I not?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Riddle,” Harry shook his head. “But if the Malfoys were involved in my family’s attack, I will get my answers. Besides,” he eyed the Alpha up and down. “You’ll need my services, too. Free of charge.”

Barty sighed, eyeing them both in despair.

“Just kiss already,” he mumbled. “I’ll get a portkey. Can’t precisely floo or apparate to Wiltshire.”

Once they reached the manor (castle, more likely), Mr. Riddle tore down the wards and Harry used his cloak to walk in, unseen. He was glad for the invisibility, too, since he felt a little hot while watching Tom work on the wards. The Alpha’s magic was… something indeed. 

Barty and Tom- Mr. Riddle were visible enough, and they had to act quickly once they entered the manor. Malfoy’s guards attack with no mercy, and Barty and Tom counterattack with less. They sent cutting hexes, killing curses, and exploding jinxes, making quick work of clearing the entrance while Harry crept along the walls towards the stairs.

Finding Draco was easy. The kid was sound asleep in his room. 

“Show yourself!” A voice boomed in the room. Draco stirred, but Harry quickly cast a silent ward around the bed before turning toward the voice. “No one shall harm my heir! My blood! My legacy will continue on-

The voice belonged to an old man in a portrait. It was hanging next to the door, guarding the room and its young inhabitant. He looked like Draco and Lucius. Except the eyes were a light blue, more like Lucius’, and he had a long beard as white as his hair.

With a wave of his wand, Harry locked the man inside his portrait, not allowing him to travel among the rest of the paintings in the manor or warn the owners of the small invasion.

“You dare!”

“I do,” Harry said coolly, flicking back his cloak hood. He caught his reflection in the window, just a floating head in a child’s bedroom, and resisted the urge to laugh.With a glance at the bed, he made sure Draco was still asleep before facing tha portrait. “I don’t mean any harm to him . I’m just here to take him to a safe place. He’ll be fine.”

“You…” The man blinked. It looked a little paler than moments ago. “You. You should be dead! Goyle said he killed you!”

Harry tilted his head. Magical portraits weren’t the real person they represented, but they captured their essence and whatever secret the person shared with it.

“Do I know you?” Harry began, “I don’t remember.”

“What slight! James Peverel denying our alliance!” The man scoffed. “Should’ve had you killed earlier. Before you tainted your family blood! Before you chose your breeder of a son over our deal!”

Harry gasped, then he narrowed his eyes at the painting.

“I’m no James Peverel,” he said softly. “I’m his son, Harry Peverel.” His glare intensified, and his magic sparkled around him. “And now I know what bloodline shall disappear to avenge my own.”

The man’s eyes widened.

“The pup,” he breathed, then he glared. If it could do magic, Harry knew he would be cursed in different ways. “You were the reason James broke all contact with us! Malfoys and Peverels had been working together for centuries! That is, until James denied us the right to bond with you. But the Blacks were available! And I gotta say, they were more ambitious than I could have imagined.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“No one speaks with you very often, right?” He asked. “You speak too much to be guarding your lord’s secrets.”

“I am the Lord of this family!”

“You’re but a memory of the real thing,” Harry waved him off. “Here, I’ll help you.”

With a flick of his wand, he set fire to the corner of the portrait. The man screamed and jumped to the other side, unable to escape the frame altogether.

“You can’t-

“I can,” Harry growled, softly, suddenly closer to the portrait than before. “I am. And not just because of my family,” he breathed. “But because it seems to me you’re the reason Delphi is in danger. Draco might be, too, if Morfin realizes who was behind his heir’s murder attempt.”

“Draco is innocent!”

“Delphi is too,” Harry’s eyes flashed green. Somewhere below, dead bodies stood to help the intruders duel against the Lord and Lady of the house. “ I was, too. And still you ordered my murder. You sent Narcisa to kill the Gaunt heir. You took Bellatrix Gaunt from her family because you wanted everything under your name!” The fire flared, now eating half of the painting. “Don’t worry, though. Not even Draco will be a Malfoy after tonight. Gaunts and Blacks will take care of him. I’ll make sure of it.”

The man, who must be Abraxas Malfoy now that Harry thought about it, growled fiercely, trying to escape the frame.

“Draco will avenge me,” he whispered, finally giving up and accepting the flames.

“Draco will forget you,” Harry promised back.

Chapter Text

Tom Riddle sat in his office, the silence broken only by the distant murmur of Delphi’s laughter echoing from the training room down the hall. For once, it didn’t grate on his nerves. She had laughed before, of course, but it had always sounded forced. Today, it rang clear. It was a sound he could tolerate. Maybe even welcome.

Harry had done that.

The Omega was sprawled across his lap, one hand lazily curled around a thick necromancy tome, Ars Somniorum: A Guide to Traversing the Deathless Path. His other hand rested on Tom’s thigh like he belonged there, as if the weight of it wasn’t slowly driving Tom mad. He smelled like smoke, lavender, and heat. Not quite yet in rut, but close. Too close. And utterly unaware of how dangerous that was.

Tom let his fingers drag idly along Harry’s spine, feigning distraction while his thoughts spiraled.

Narcissa had been predictable. She always had been. Her decision to eliminate Delphi was shortsighted, yes, but not surprising. She’d always believed herself a queen among paupers, ruling with a silk glove and poison tongue. Tom might’ve even admired her, if she hadn’t lost her mind to greed. That had made her sloppy. Fragile.

In another life, if he had wanted Delphi to follow in his footsteps, he might’ve reacted with fury. But Tom had always known better. Power demanded sacrifice. And children were the worst victims of inherited ambition.

No, the Malfoy mistake wasn’t in trying to rule Delphi.

It was in underestimating him.

He would manage the Malfoy businesses himself, just until Draco was ready. The boy had potential. Not fire, perhaps, but something quieter, colder. A kind of calculating intelligence Tom recognized in himself at that age. With Sirius Black now under his thumb (under his Omega's enchantment, more likely) Tom would make sure Draco was trained properly. Realistically. No more fairytales. No more silken lies from Narcissa about birthright and destiny. The boy would learn the cost of power, and how to hold it without it bleeding through his fingers.

Unlike her.

Harry shifted on his lap, muttering something sleep-softened and unintelligible, and Tom’s hand paused where it had wandered too low. He exhaled slowly, forcing stillness.

There was no use pretending he was in control anymore.

Harry had become his from the moment he stepped into Delphi’s room and refused to be cowed by her name, by Tom’s power, by the legacy that bled through the Gaunt walls. And now—now he was scenting the air like he belonged here. Like he belonged to Tom.

The Omega didn’t know what it meant to lie draped across the lap of a man like him. Or maybe he did. Maybe that was what made it worse.

Tom tightened his hold.

Harry’s hair smelled like smoke, as if he had just been playing around with the same curse that took his family, the signature of Tom's own blood. 

His lips were parted. Heat coiled off his skin.

He was dangerous.

But so was Tom.

Harry stirred again, yawning, and blinked up at him. 

“I told Delphi she could paint her own room,” he blinked at the book in his hands. 

He had fallen asleep while reading it, and now he was marking the page he was on and closed it with care.

Tom arched a brow. “Did you?”

“She wants stars and some weird… pink thing she saw in a Muggle book. Might let her. Seems like she’s finally trying to live.” Harry stretched and then added, too casually, “She called me ‘Mum’ today.”

That made him blink.

Harry snorted softly. “By accident. I didn’t say anything, just kind of... accepted it. Felt natural, I guess.” He closed the book and sat up slightly, glancing at Tom with those unnervingly bright green eyes. “Severus is stepping down from the Academy. He’s leaving it under my care.”

That…

Tom’s pulse skipped.

A Peverell at the helm of a legacy like OMA. A trained necromancer with a spine of steel and the kind of moral compass that could be sharpened—or broken. The Peverell name meant something, even if Harry didn’t flaunt it. In some circles, it meant everything. Power. Authority. Blood. But more than that… a future.

One he hadn’t thought possible, not for a man like him. Not after Bellatrix. Not after Delphi.

Not until Harry.

“Good,” Tom said simply. He wouldn’t cheapen it with praise.

But he would remember it.

He would remember this moment when the world tried to touch Harry again.

He would remember that Harry belonged to him.

The necromancy book slid off Harry’s lap and hit the floor with a soft thud. Harry startled and bent down to pick it up, exposing the curve of his neck, the faint line of a bite that hadn’t fully healed.

Tom’s bite.

He traced the mark with his eyes, hunger rising like a tide.

It was nearly time.

“I’m not going to be like them,” Harry murmured without looking back. “The older generations. They all destroy each other to protect nothing. I want to protect the kids. Give them a future. A real one.”

Tom said nothing.

Because the truth was… he didn’t care about the other children.

He only cared about his.

Delphi.

Draco.

And now, Harry.

The future Harry wanted to protect would be carved out with blood. There was no way around it. But if Harry was the blade, Tom would be the hand that held it. No more fragile heirs. No more pampered messiahs.

They would build a new world.

Even if they had to burn this one down first.

Harry settled back against him with a small sigh. “You’re quiet.”

“Thinking.”

“About what?”

“Everything.”

Harry tilted his head back and gave him a lopsided smile. “That’s suspicious.”

Tom hummed, noncommittal. His hand moved again, trailing over the curve of Harry’s hip, firm and possessive. The Omega arched faintly, unthinking.

Not yet in heat.

But soon.

Very soon.

And when it came, Tom would take what was his. Mark him again. Claim him completely.

Harry shifted again, unaware. Trusting. Naïve in the way only someone truly dangerous could afford to be. Someone with power and softness both.

Someone Tom couldn’t let go.

The office lights flickered. Somewhere in the manor, a bell chimed.

Harry closed his eyes.

Tom looked down at him, gaze unreadable.

A Peverell, cloaked in kindness.

A Gaunt, masked in obsession.

“Rest,” he said lowly.

Harry made a sleepy sound, already fading. “Mm… you’re being nice. That’s scary.”

Tom allowed a smirk to touch his lips. But only just.

He waited until Harry’s breathing slowed.

Waited until he was sure the Omega had drifted off in his arms.

And then he whispered against his hair, voice low and dark and full of promise:

“One day… you’ll carry the Gaunt name. And the world will remember why they feared it.”