Beautiful, the Dark Heir (bdh08)

Chapter Eight

Original Chapter by Bittersweet Alias

overpowering fear or anxiety: a sudden feeling of fear or anxiety, especially among many people, that comes on suddenly, is overwhelming, appears to be uncontrollable, and may seem to be unfounded


Tom looked up when Harry came through without knocking. Only he dared to do such. He watched as the young teen pulled down his blood red hood, revealing his attractive features from underneath.


“I caught two spies,” harry responded, not answering his father’s initial question.  “They’re dead.  Or will be in about two hours or so.”

The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow.

“Tonks, believe it or not, and an unspeakable I didn’t recognize.  They were posing as Crabbe and Goyle.  I made sure they were lost in the Mirror Maze.”

“I – see.  I’ll identify the second body later if there’s anything left of it.”

“I doubt it,” Harry responded.  “Maybe we can send them to Dumbledore for St. Valentine’s Day? To show our undying love?”

Tom repressed an indulgent smile, but nodded his head in agreement.

“Oh, and to answer your question, Micah, Connor, Adrian, and Theo. You have no idea how badly I wanted to cheat and put Blaise in there. He’s loyal and a perfectionist,” he said sadly, “he deserves the mark.”

The Zabinis had always been that way. He understood what Harry was saying. “But you didn’t?”

“Hell no, I didn’t even cheat for Micah.”

Tom smirked. “Interesting.”

Harry shrugged. “You call it interesting, I call it results.”

“What do they think of you?”

“Well, I think I got some of them to respect me; I don’t think Micah likes me much,” Harry said, not able to hide the snicker. He sat down on the edge of Tom’s desk. “It’s really funny to see how he acts. I kind of like the fact that he stands up to Viridian. He does it logically, though, and I think he knows it.”

The red-eyed man leaned back in his seat. He’d been going through Department of Mysteries information but it was completely worthless without August Rookwood. “I’m pleased you are enjoying yourself.”

“While making your followers worthwhile.”

“Yes, I never would have thought about setting them strategic tasks like you have.”

“We don’t need them to die as soon as they get within line of the others. I mean you have all these people on the Light Side who go on strategy – our own followers need strategy to survive it, so we can achieve our goals.”

“Hmm, are you going to tell Montague?”

Harry cringed. “I don’t know… not yet.”

“Why not?” Tom queried. “Did something happen?”

Biting his lip, Harry sagged his shoulders. “I think … I was in heat the night I let him take me.”

Tom wasn’t surprised. “Are you pregnant?”

Harry’s cheeks flushed. “I – eh- I don’t know, Father.”  The word drifted between them and Harry sighed in relief when Voldemort’s face remained impassive, as if it were natural for Harry to refer to him as such. “I know what I did was so fucking stupid.”

“Why is it stupid?”

“I don’t want to ruin all these plans!”

“You’d hardly ruin them, and no one has to know you’re pregnant. They won’t target what they don’t know, Hadrian.”

Harry was mildly surprised, he gazed up into those fiery orbs. “Y – you’re not furious?”

“Why the hell would I be? You’re carrying on the Slytherin line. Merlin knows I won’t.” He arched an eyebrow. “Is that what this is all about? You’re afraid of me?”

It was Harry’s turn to be ashamed. “I just-”

“Don’t finish that,” Tom snapped. He gripped Harry by the chin and glared into his eyes. “You can be such a silly Gryffindor!”

“HEY!” Harry whined. “I am not! I just-”

“The damage that foul Dumbledore has done. Hadrian, I am no longer the insane madman I once was. I refuse to be that. You are carrying my soul and we share each other’s blood, you are my son because of this. The child in you may carry is my grandson, and will never know that you were once a Potter.  As long as we can make it legitimate there is absolutely nothing to worry about.  Do you hear me?”

Swallowing, Harry nodded. “Yes,” he said thickly. His father had never acted so serious, not like this. “Micah will not be pleased.”

“What choice does he have?  Your godfather told me that he knows you’re a Gaunt as well as a Black, a pureblood who can bear his heirs.  How can he not be pleased especially when Caelius and Mari have most likely been trying to push another marriage contract on him over break?”

“That’s just it. I want him to have a choice. I don’t want him to hang around because I’m some sort of male broodmare or, even worse, because he’s scared of you.”

“Or of you,” Tom said with amusement. He let go of Harry’s chin and brushed a hand across his cheek almost tenderly.

Harry smiled slightly and tilted his head. “Yeah right, Micah isn’t scared of me. He may have a bit of respect for Viridian, but he’s not scared.”

“Tell him about the child before you reveal who you are to him.”

Harry bit his lower lip. “Wow, I made a mess,” he commented realistically. It was so much more complicated than it would be in the Muggle world.  There he couldn’t even get pregnant unless he underwent some bizarre sex change operation, and even then modern Muggle medicine hadn’t proceeded that far.  Even if he were a Muggle, though, he could just give the child his name and apart from a bit of teasing from his peers, everything would be fine.  An unwed mother was not uncommon.  Here, amongst pureblood society, it could be disastrous.  He could be cast from “polite society” (not that he really moved in it), but the child wouldn’t have any pureblood rights.  He, Harry, could claim it as his heir, but it would be a true halfblood, and would be considered little better than a Mudblood by families like the Malfoys.

“You can’t know that,” Tom responded quietly, sensing his Heir’s thoughts. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Hadrian. I had hoped that you would find someone within my ranks and I’m not disappointed in your choice. You have someone who-”

“Acts so fucking much like you.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Incest much?”

Harry rolled his eyes and slid off the desk. “Yeah – right. We don’t need blood that thick!”

“Hmm, I’m sadistic,” Tom admitted. “I’d do it. You’re pretty enough.”

Harry laughed and brought a hand up to his head. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that!” He yelped as he fixed his hood back up in case he were to run into someone. “See you, Father, I’m going to go bug Rem and Siri.  See if Narcissa wrote.”

The Dark Lord smirked.  “She’s one of the most intelligent witches I’ve ever met.  She can sense the turn of the tide years before it occurs.  Pity she’s not a Death Eater.”

Harry laughed openly.  “No, but her husband is, which is nearly good enough.  I don’t think my aunt,” he tested out the term, “would be suited to battles.  She could possibly bring down the government at a tea party, though.”

Tom was pleased; everything was going according to plan. Although this chance at pregnancy hadn’t been in the equation, Tom hadn’t been surprised. He’d read up all about Blood Adoption and knew Harry would wind up with that ability and when he turned out so damn beautiful? Between his soul, magic, and Sirius’ characteristics, he turned into quite a being. And after having watched the Montague heir discreetly, he knew it was only a matter of time before everything fell neatly into place.  His grandchild would be legitimate; he had no doubt in his mind.

Harry didn’t see Remus and Sirius back at the cottage, although he did see an invitation lying on the table to a private family gathering at the Malfoys’ two evenings before term started up again.  He smirked.  Sirius had been asked to bring his heir and any other member of his household.  Well, that meant Remus was coming, then.

After a few moments contemplation, he asked Hedwig to send a letter for him. He disguised her as an ordinary owl.

“Take this to Micah and make sure he is the only one who receives it, alright, girl?”

She hooted and nibbled his hair before flying out the window.

Harry leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. What was going to happen now?

Micah was very startled when he looked up from his place in the common room as an unfamiliar owl fluttered through the window and landed on his shoulder. It took him five seconds to realize who the owl belonged to. He was used to snow white.

He reached over and took her letter as the few in the room peered at it curiously. He left her on his shoulder and flipped the letter open.


I know you’re probably busy so I won’t take long. I disguised Hedwig so no one made any connections with her. I’ll cut right to the chase. I want to talk to you about something. If you are able to see me, please respond back and we’ll set up somewhere we can meet where we won’t be caught. If not, that’s fine.

It wasn’t signed and Micah was a little bothered by how awkward it sounded.

He told the owl to wait and pulled a sheet of parchment free and ripped it in half. He was going to take care of this weird letter writing of Hadrian’s.


Don’t be stupid. I don’t like the way your letter sounds. Send me back an un-awkward letter and I’ll meet you.


He couldn’t believe he signed it that. He was an idiot but he didn’t cross it out and instead folded it and tied it to Hedwig. “You know where it goes.”

She hooted and nipped him and soon she was gone.

“Who was that?” Pansy queried looking up from her chess game with Daphne.

Draco, he noticed, was sitting off on his own, working painstakingly on a letter of his own.  Most likely to Hadrian, just as Viridian had commanded.  Fuck knew why the cloaked bitch had wanted him to do it.

“None of your business,” Micah replied succinctly.

It was an hour later and Micah was stunned by Hedwig’s quick reappearance. “How the fuck-?” But he didn’t finish his question aloud and instead took the letter. How did she get back so fast?

He opened it.


Am sorry. Truth be told, I’m worried. Sooo, can we meet? If so do you have any idea where?


Micah arched an eyebrow. Juliet? He thought, folding Harry’s letter and taking the other half of the parchment he had used not an hour earlier.


No idea what is with the names, you still won’t tell me a thing. So, I’ll just use this for now. What are you worried about that a letter to me is damn difficult? Oh and how is your owl getting to me so fucking fast? Wherever is fine.


It wasn’t even a half hour later this time when Hedwig flew back. “You must be exhausted?”

She hooted at him before flapping her wings. He took the letter and ordered a house-elf to bring water and an owl treat.

Draco was eyeing the bird with scrutiny, having already sent off his own letter, along with Pansy and Adrian.


One of these days I’ll tell you why I call you that. I’ll tell you why I’m worried when we meet. How about in the Leaky Cauldron? It’s not exactly private but I’ll be under a glamour and we can talk upstairs or whatever. As for how she gets to you? I don’t know, how close are you to me, I wonder? Anyway, I’ll be there in the morning, how’s that? About 9:00 A.M.?


Micah scowled. He hated it the way Harry was writing these letters. Something about it annoyed him. He ripped off a sheet of paper.


Fine, but fucking hell, Hadrian! You better tell me what’s wrong with you or I’m going to fuck it out of you.


That should get his point across. He sent it off satisfied but he couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Harry’s mind

Well, he’d find out tomorrow and even if it wasn’t anything to worry about, perhaps, he’ll fuck him anyway.

Harry was restlessly nervous. He closed his eyes once, before wrapping the cloak around him and disappearing from the cottage at eight thirty the next morning.

Tom the Innkeeper was wiping down the bar. Harry waltzed up to him. “Private room,” he dropped a stack of gold onto the counter, shocking the old man.

“Y- yes, of course,” he stuttered and quickly he retrieved the keys.

Ten till nine Harry saw Micah appear from the back of the Leaky Cauldron, wearing dark gray robes with traces of copper along the edges. His hair was pulled back low.

The teen pressed himself against the wall next to an empty private booth nearest the stairs. There were about a dozen others but none caught his attention other than Micah. He looked imposing and he scared anyone who glanced his way. It was then that they locked eyes. Harry had changed his appearance; he was blond with blue eyes. The only thing that wasn’t different was the small size of his frame and the length of his hair and the fact that Harry didn’t turn away.

Micah approached. He reached over and tugged the lock of hair with disgust. “I hate blonds.”

“Look in the mirror,” he flicked Micah’s golden strands.  “And you fucked Malfoy…”

“In the dark and it was last year… I vaguely remember.”

“Nice to know,” he said dryly. Actually, that sounded gross on so many levels.

Micah tugged Harry closer until they were inches from each other’s face. The Gryffindor’s lips turned into a small smile. But before Micah could land him with one of those fiery kisses, he turned and walked up the stairs.

Micah scowled. “Did you have to leave so soon?”

Harry didn’t respond and that was annoying. It reminded him too much of Viridian. “Would you speak back, damn you!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered, getting to the landing that their room was on.

“You will drop that glamour?” Micah asked hotly. “I hate it!” Just seeing blond on Harry made him cringe.

“Hm, when we get to the room, you will drop it. Where I am at I can do Magic, here I cannot,” he reminded.

The room was at the very end and as soon as they entered Micah’s wand was out and he immediately dropped all of Harry’s glamours. “Better.”

Harry reached into his cloak and drew out a paperback book. He handed it over to Micah.

“What’s this?” He took it and read the name. ‘Romeo & Juliet.’ “Ah, that bloody name.” His question would now be answered but that’s not what he came here for. He dropped the book to the bed and crossed to Harry who stared at him with a slight bit of panic in his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded. He hated the worry that he felt at all the distress on Harry’s face.

With a deep sigh, Harry slid off his cloak and lay it across the bed. It was stuffy and he would like to be comfortable when he told Micah the truth. He turned away and peered out the window. The first of the winter flakes were falling from the sky sticking to the dirty window. “Micah,” he said softly, “I don’t know how to explain this, but I will in the best way I can,” he murmured refusing to turn around. His heart was pounding in his chest and he feared that the wolf in Micah would hear it.

And he did. “What the hell is the matter?” For a moment, Micah thought maybe Harry knew that he was to be marked soon and his own panic slowly began. But he remained cool and collected.

“The Blood Adoption actually has side effects.”

Micah crossed the room then and twirled Harry around so that they were facing one another. The fear on Harry’s face actually broke Micah’s heart. It wasn’t something he was used to seeing. “What kind of side effects?”

Harry snapped his green eyes shut, breathed deeply, and then said. “Pregnancy Gene…. It was why I told you no for so long.” He shook his head. “I think… when we had sex, I was in heat. That’s how it works. I don’t know if I am or not, but it’s worrying the hell out of me!” He jerked away from Micah’s slack grip and pressed his forehead to the cold glass window.

If Micah didn’t want him … Fuck, he couldn’t even think it.  Why was Pureblood culture so twisted?

Magical children were so deeply prized that aborting one was unheard of, even if it were a bastard, the child of a Muggle, or the product of incest or rape.  It was illegal to take an potion or cast any spell intentionally that could end a fetus’ development, essentially killing it.

And he even if he could do it, could slip into the Muggle world or something – Harry knew he wouldn’t.  This baby, however inconvenient or possibly taboo, was his and Micah’s.  He had made love to Micah that night, even if Micah had only been out for a quick fuck or, at best, a clandestine tryst that would eventually end. 

Harry had never been wanted and, on all his magic, he swore that his child would never feel the same way.

Micah’s mind froze over. He was completely rocked by this piece of information. He couldn’t exactly process this, and wound up taking two steps back. “You’re not serious.”

Harry turned and looked at Micah dully. “Why would I joke about something as serious as this?” he asked quietly.

“This is impossible…” Micah murmured. “We had sex once!”

“Mhmm, I’m well aware, Micah, but it only takes one time if I was truly in heat. I have yet to understand all of it. I only started reading up on it two days ago.”

“That settles it then,” Micah said out of nowhere.

Harry blinked and peered over. “Settles it? Settles what, Romeo?” he asked confused.

Micah arched an eyebrow. Wasn‘t it obvious? Did Harry really think, he‘d let him get away now? “You’re mine, that child is mine – we’ll perform a bonding ceremony.”  No child of his was going to be a considered a filthy halfblood, and even worse, he couldn’t bear to even think of Harry living in shame of having a bastard child.

… Not only did Harry’s eyes go unbelievably wide, but every ounce of oxygen he had in his lungs deflated. A rushing sensation came over him and he simply stared. He didn’t think he would be able to open his mouth to speak, the strength and all had vanished. “Yeah- right?” He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that.

That would so take care of his Heir problem. Micah smirked. “What’s there to think about?” He drew closer but Harry immediately found his ability to actually move and stepped backwards. “I was just bitched at two days ago because I had no desire to marry and then fuck a girl to get an Heir. This works out perfect…”

Harry’s eyes suddenly narrowed and his heart dropped into his stomach, splashing through the acid and making him almost literally vomit on the floor where he stood. “No, no!”

“Hadrian, you’re having my child… we’re sleeping together-”

“We had sex once!” Harry repeated Micah’s very words.

“You said yourself that if you were in heat it only takes once! I‘ve already laid claim to you. I will not let you go now that you‘re carrying my child!”

Normally, Harry wouldn’t be so incensed by the conversation and where it was heading, but the wheels in his mind were spinning too fast for him to actually slow down. He felt sick. “I have to go to the bathroom,” Harry said suddenly.

He rushed passed only to have Micah grab him and bury his face into Harry’s ear and still-blond hair. The smaller teen flinched sharply at the grip.

“Mine, Potter-Black!” he snarled. He could feel the soft petite body through the robes that were ultimately thin.. 

Harry glared up at him. “Fuck you!” he spat erratically and startled Micah by pushing him away with a strength no one would think he could possess. He went to the bathroom and slammed it shut.

Micah couldn’t understand what the hell was wrong with him. Shouldn’t Harry be happy that he wasn’t taking this so well? That he wanted the baby, that he wanted Harry forever?  He jumped up and raced to the door. “What the hell are you doing? What’s your problem, Hadrian?”

There was no answer and there wasn’t even any noise. He grumbled and stepped away. “Hurry up then, we need to talk about this.” This would be difficult but at least he would have an Heir by a male, and one so delectable that he couldn’t even manage to forget his scent for a single waking moment. This was perfect. So what was Harry’s problem?

Harry was having his child or at least he could! He couldn’t have been happier. He’d never thought it was possible. But it was! What the hell was taking him so long?

“Hadrian, if you don’t open this door I’m going to unlock it for you. You’re acting like a stupid child! Come the fuck out!” he snapped irritably.

Again there was no answer. Micah tugged on the door but it didn’t budge; he used Alohamora but again it didn’t work. It took a moment but Micah finally got angry enough to blast it off the hinges but when he did he found nothing in the bathroom except for a window that was open and the freezing cold air fluttering through.

Harry was gone and Micah had no idea what happened to make him panic. But he couldn’t quite stop the feeling that perhaps he had scared Harry somehow, but what had he done? But that was impossible, Harry knew Micah would lay claim he had those instincts that he couldn’t hold back.

Irritation set in and Micah scowled before walking out and scooping up his mate’s cloak and the book he’d been given.  What was it with him and walking around during winter without one? He snarled mentally.

Harry, though, would come around. He was sure of it. Right? Even if he did, what would Micah do? Harry was not exactly the Dark Lord’s favourite.

He sighed and sat down. This would be difficult, but it would be perfect if Harry was on his side. If he were Dark, too. Harry had it, he had the darkness inside of him. He’d been studying books all year long and he hated Dumbledore. He was even the Heir of the Black Family and, after having looked up the Gaunts, one of the darkest families in British history.  But would that be enough to convince others that Harry might actually swap sides?

What about Harry? He had a mind of his own, a rather strange little mind. One that Micah couldn’t help but enjoy because he was unpredictable and he could never be boring, even when he was just sitting on his bedroom floor, reading.

Micah gave a nod to the empty room, decision made. He would bring it up. Just once. He’d do it randomly as though he were giving out information that only he would know. He couldn’t let on like he was that close. He’d figure something out, he just had too.

That is, if Harry would be reasonable. What was he thinking running out like that? He could catch a cold!

He growled out loud and covered his eyes. More worry and tension seeped through him as he thought about what Harry would think if he caught the Dark Mark on his arm. The growing guilt just got even worse.

He’d never felt guilty because of someone else before in his life. No one had ever put him in that position before. Somehow, though, Harry had, and right now he wanted to know why Harry panicked and run off. What had he said that was so bad? Harry should know a wolf’s claim. He lived with one!

Realizing that Harry wasn’t returning, he gave up and Disapparated.

Published by excentrykemuse

Fanfiction artist and self critic.

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