Beautiful, the Dark Heir (bdh11)

Chapter Eleven

Fic Originally Adopted from Bittersweet Alias

a disclosure or communication: something disclosed or made known by divine or supernatural means

Revelation

The Dark Lord sighed and took a long sip from his morning Firewhisky.  Last night had gone horribly and, what was even worse, he couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry for it.  He was going soft because of hisdark–haired, green-eyed heir. 

Now he just had to smooth everything over with Sirius and Remus, and the Montagues.  This was not going to be pleasant, he thought glumly in the confines of his plush study.

There was nothing to be done.  The lovers were probably canoodling—he scoffed mentally at the word—and Micah would demand that his heir be completely legitimate, even if there wasn’t an heir.  Werewolves were incredibly possessive creatures, and no one messed with their mating process.  Not even the Dark Lord.

A knock on the door had him setting his tumbler down and turning his crimson orbs toward the doors.  “Ah, Remus, Sirius,” he said, greeting two of his newest followers.  “I trust you slept well.”

“Of course,” Sirius said as he glanced around curiously. “Have you seen Hadrian?”

The Dark Lord looked up, his lips thinning.  “He’s not in his chambers with the youngest Montague?”  His head tilted sideways.  “Well, they didn’t waste any time.” His lips curled in a knowing smirk.

“My Lord?” Remus inquired, confused.

Sirius sighed at his half-blood mate.  “According to pureblood tradition, Rem, a child can only be legitimate and considered a pureblood if its parents are bonded less than two months after its conception.  Sooner is better in this case.”

“Harry’s getting married?” Remus’s voice came out as a squeak, and his face paled.

“Bonded,” Sirius and Lord Voldemort answered simultaneously. 

“Marriage is a Muggle term and can be broken.” Sirius shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he explained.  “Magical bonding lasts beyond death.”

Remus could only swallow.  “And Hadrian wants this?”

The Dark Lord nodded, his eyes sharp.  “Yes.  He and Micah had a disagreement when Hadrian mistakenly thought that Micah only wanted to be with him because he was in your godson’s words ‘a broodmare.’  If it wouldn’t sound disgustingly romantic, I’d venture they were in love.  The possible birth of an heir in nine months is only a benefit for Montague.”

Remus bowed his head, knowing he really had little input if things had progressed this far, and he would never deny his cub anything.

“As Hadrian’s recognized guardian,” Voldemort continued to Sirius, “you should be present when I discuss the matter with Caelius Montague.  I doubt he’ll be pleased.”

Sirius, who had been standing, quickly took a seat in a leather armchair.  “Of course.  Have they been summoned?”

Crimson eyes gleamed in response.

“What of Malfoy?  Narcissa’s recognized him as a Black, and, well, he’s not a wanted man.  It couldn’t hurt, either, for him to publicly support the bonding.”

Voldemort looked steadily at Sirius before smirking.  “Hadrian‘s worked his Black charm on my followers?  I’ve never been more proud.”  He snapped his fingers and a house–elf appeared.  “Bring Lucius Malfoy here immediately,” he commanded and, with a squeak, the little creature disappeared.

“Rem?” Sirius asked, as Remus took the seat beside him. 

“They grow up too fast,” Remus muttered to himself.  His head snapped up as a thought occurred to him, hands clenching and unclenching.  “Montague met Harry under his true name.“I couldn’t find him on the Platform so I called out to him, and he was with Micah and Draco Malfoy at the time.  That could work in our favor.”

Voldemort surveyed him carefully, reading his body language.  “This might prove useful, especially if he initially approved.”

Silence settled over Hadrian’s protectors as they waited for the Montague patriarch to arrive.  When he finally entered, Voldemort glared at him.  “I need to speak with Lucius first.  You can wait next door until you’re called.” 

Caelius looked a bit shocked, especially as he had been in the process of kneeling, but he quickly recovered.  “My Lord.” He exited promptly.

Only a few moments later, Malfoy entered.  At first, he looked shocked to see both Sirius and Remus sitting there, knowing that they shouldn’t be Death Eaters.  He was a member of the Dark Lord’s Inner Circle and, as such, was privy to most of the information that his Lord kept hidden from his other followers.

He recovered, though, and quickly knelt.  “My Lord,” he said before Voldemort allowed him to rise and take a seat.  “Black, Lupin,” he greeted politely then looked toward their leader.

“Malfoy,” Voldemort began, “Black mentioned you would desire to be present for the meeting that is about to take place as Narcissa has recognized Hadrian Gaunt as her cousin and a Black.  Is that correct?”

Malfoy’s grey eyes glinted slightly in apprehension, but he easily covered his uneasiness.  “She has, my Lord.  We were unaware that Black’s adopted son is Harry Potter, and believed it would be, at the very least, a wise political decision.  He is, as you said, also a Gaunt, although I had thought that bloodline had died out nearly a century ago.”

“And at the most?”

“As you know, Draco is the only other Black of his generation, excepting the half-blood Nymphadora Tonks.  Bellatrix is in Azkaban; Andromeda—the blood traitor—threw herself away on the Mudblood, and Regulus – died.  Blood and family are important to the Blacks and, as such, if Hadrian showed the proper leanings, he would be a valued and cherished member of the family.”

Voldemort inclined his head. 

“I wish, despite my Heir’s misgivings, to bring Hadrian Gaunt into the fold.  Black assures me he is going, if he hasn’t already gone, dark and a bonding to Micah would ensure that his loyalties rest with us, especially if there is a child of the Black, Gaunt, and Montague lines.”  He paused.  “I wish for you to continue what Narcissa has begun.  Influence him toward the Dark Arts.  Don’t overly pressure him, but nurture him.  Give him, along with Black, the supportive pureblood family he has never known.”  His eyes locked with Lucius’s and commanded his servant’s obedience.

“Of course, my Lord.  We would be honored.”

“I think it’s time to call Caelius back in.” Voldemort glanced pointedly at Lupin who got up and entered again a few moments later with Lord Montague.

Caelius, after bowing subserviently, settled tensely into a chair directly opposite the two Marauders.”My Lord,” he began, “I beg your forgiveness for my son’s behavior last night.”  His voice, though strong, shook slightly when he mentioned Micah, and his tense shoulders belied his discomfort.

“Viridian has appropriately punished him.” He scowled, remembering Hadrian’s cheeky threat to have sex on his carpet. “That is not why I called you here today.”

“My Lord?” Montague shifted slightly in his seat, trying to hide his nervousness.

“After much consideration, I believe this situation presents a unique – opportunity.”

Montague’s head remained bowed in submission, but his eyes widened slightly.  “Surely, my Lord, you cannot think of having my son bonded to that half—“

“Be careful what you say,” Voldemort reprimanded, jaw clenching.  “I understand from Black that he has not only blood adopted the whelp with another pureblood, but has been tutoring him in the Dark Arts since last summer.  Is that correct, Black?”

“It is, my Lord.  Hadrian is disgusted with Dumbledore and the Ministry and sought to take himself out of their direct power.”

“H-Hadrian?” Caelius inquired, his mind still having difficulty processing everything that had occurred the night before, the threat of the death of his son being mentally taxing.

“Hadrian Muliphein Gaunt, my heir and godson.  However he‘s currently going by Hadrian James Potter-Blackwhile at Hogwarts.  Mr. Gaunt,” He smirked, “does not wish for his presence in Harry’s life to be known at present.”

“N-no, of course not.”

“Furthermore, as you already know,” Malfoy cut in, “Hadrian has been recognized by my family, and we wish for his dark leanings to be solidified as soon as possible.  He has my full support for his bonding, and any child he may carry,” He glanced over at Harry’s godfathers, “will be magically powerful, considering everything Harry Potter has been capable of by the age of fifteen.”

“Are we agreed then?” Voldemort asked. “Micah will bond with Hadrian before the end of the Yule holidays, thus gaining you a pureblood heir with dark magic and further neutralizing Harry Potter in the war.”

The four Death Eaters murmured their agreement.

“Excellent, you are dismissed.”  He raised his red eyes to the door.  “And tell me when my heir returns, Black,” he added.

Sirius couldn’t help but smile at the slight exasperation in Voldemort’s voice.

(o)

Harry took a deep breath as he exited the bistro with Micah beside him.  “Have we been seen enough, Romeo?” he laughed.  The two wizards had gained quite a bit of attention. Fortunately, no one but Blaise Zabini, who had been having lunch with his younger half-sister, recognized Harry as the Boy-Who-Lived.

With their silver and blue shopping bag prominently displayed on their table, which according to Micah was recognizable throughout European pureblood society as the distinctive Glass Slipper betrothal bag, they had garnered sidelong glances from all of the clientele as well as a hearty congratulations from the maitre d’.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the entire spectacle, especially when a mild-mannered and respectful photographer had asked to take a magical image for the next day’s Daily Prophet.

Micah, his possessive smirk in place, had obliged—though Harry could only snicker when the photographer asked for his name.”Wait until the formal announcement later this week.” He hedged, not wanting to ruin the game and his fun.“I think Father would be angry if he didn’t get to choose exactly how my name was printed.”

Blaise, who was near enough to hear, barely suppressed a laugh.

A gentle snow swirled around them, Harry’s black fringe blowing out of his face to reveal his scar to Micah and another young couple who were just leaving the restaurant.

“Back to chaos?” Harry asked, “Or do we need anything else?”

Micah growled, pulling Harry against his chest, nipping softly at his exposed neck before tenderly tracing the glamoured bruise on his cheek.  “Does it hurt?” he whispered remorsefully.

Harry shook his head.  “Not much, and it’s my fault.”

“Never again, Hadrian,” Micah vowed before claiming Harry’s lips until Harry could barely breathe.  His left hand wrapped securely around his mate’s waist, his right palm gently hovering over Harry’s midsection. 

“His name should begin with the letter ‘M,” Harry mumbled when Micah’s lips finally released his.

Micah looked at him speculatively.

“Well, Micah Montague has a ring to it, and he will be a Montague or a Montague-Black or Montague-Gaunt, I would think.  And the Gaunts all have names beginning with the letter, a bit of a family tradition.”

“Muliphein,” Micah stated, thinking of Harry’s middle name.

He nodded.  “Yes.  The Blacks also name their children after stars and constellations.  It’s in Canis Major.”  He paused, his dark eyes unseeing as he lost himself in thought. “Morpheus.”

Micah looked at him in confusion.

“Morpheus Orion Montague-Gaunt.”  Harry’s bright eyes sought his mate’s as he smiled gently.  “If we have a boy.”

“Morpheus Montague-Gaunt,” Micah said, trying it out before he clasped Harry even more tightly against him, his hand still resting protectively over Harry’s abdomen. 

“Imagine Dumbledore’s surprise,” Harry laughed gleefully before his eyes turned dark again, “if he survives that long.”

“Hadrian,” Micah warned, wondering what Harry as Viridian was planning.

Harry only smiled innocently at him, making Micah even more suspicious.  “Nothing, Romeo.  Nothing at all.”  He grabbed Micah’s hand before dragging him toward the Leaky Cauldron.  “I hope the Weasleys have left,” he mused to no one in particular, not wanting to see the twins or Bill or – even worse in his opinion – Ron.

The thought of Fleur spending the Yule holiday with the Weasley clan briefly crossed his mind.  He remembered Bill saying something about it at some point.  He hadn’t really been listening, and had most likely been wondering why Bill had decided to cheat on his part-Veela girlfriend and not tell him, the one he was cheating with, what he was doing.

Of course, there had always been the teasing revenge he had extracted over the past few months.  He couldn’t exactly behave the same way now that he was betrothed, but he knew he could make the eldest Weasley mentally, if not physically, squirm if he wanted to.

Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – they managed to duck into the Inn without the bunch of redheads noticing; although, he did see Hermione give their reflection in a shop window a double take before they disappeared from sight.

Hadrian raised his cloak hood before allowing Micah to grasp him around the waist for Apparition.  “Can’t be recognized quite yet, now can I?” he quipped, before feeling as if he were being pushed down a Muggle drainage pipe.  He hated Apparition.

(o)

The Dark Sect was surprised by how quickly the bonding between Micah Montague and Harry Potter was arranged.  After the meeting with the Dark Lord, Caelius confirmed that Harry was none other than the mysterious Hadrian Muliphein Gaunt from platform nine andthree-quarters, and that he had been blood adopted, not only by the infamous Death Eater Sirius Black but also by the last descendant of the Gaunt line, which was previously believed to be extinct.

The article that came out on the Muggle holiday of Christmas caused further speculation to rise. On the front page, in a large, color photograph, Micah Montague and an unnamed wizard were smiling with a visible Glass Slipper jewelry bag on their table.

Montague Heir to Bond with Unidentified Pureblood

By Rita Skeeter

Yesterday, this reporter learned the pureblood Montague’s family heir, Graham Micah Montague, was seen sharing an intimate and romantic meal with an unidentified wizard at the exclusive pureblood venue, The White Witch.  The couple exchanged words with no one apart from a brief greeting to Blaise Zabini, a fellow Slytherin and prefect at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Although Micah Montague, as he prefers to be called, is rarely seen in such trendy locations, what was truly startling was the placement of a ‘Betrothal Pouch’ from Britain’s top jeweler: The Glass Slipper.  The Greengrass family is notorious for serving only wealthy clientele who have impeccable bloodlines.  Engagement and bonding rings are not sold or enchanted unless both parties are considered suitable for the merchandise (For more on The Glass Slipper’s Mercantile Practices, see page 4.  For the scandal involving former Minister for Magic Oswald Rice, see page 3). 

Who is the mysterious pureblood that no one can identify?  What did he do to gain the heart of Micah Montague, who has never been romantically linked with anyone during his six and a half years at Hogwarts?

Is this wizard even a student at Hogwarts, where Montague is currently Head Boy?

The couple, the maitre d’ Laurence Burne assured us, will be bonded – most likely later this month.  “I offered them my sincere congratulations,” was his only other comment.  “Now do you want a table or not?”

When no further information was forthcoming, your faithful reporter tracked down Athene Greengrass at The Glass Slipper. 

“Our customers are given complete confidentiality.  If you can’t figure it out, I won’t tell you.”  Miss Greengrass, then stated that the customer was naturally a pureblood as The Glass Slipper did not serve anyone of “inferior birth.”

When then, as the Muggles would say, will we hear the sound of wedding bells?

Even Draco Malfoy, a friend of Montague’s who this reporter later caught up with in Diagon Alley, wouldn’t reveal the identity of the wizard when shown the picture.  “You really need to look up your pureblood history,” he commented after laughing.  “Yes, I know him, and he looks just like all the other wizards in his family.  I still can’t get over how no one can recognize him.”

When asked about his blood status, the Malfoy heir only smiled and said,  “Pureblood through and through.  He hails from one of our old families, and if he is bonding with Montague, I wish them the best.”

Unfortunately, Micah and Caelius Montague were unavailable for comment, but your faithful reporter will try her utmost to discover the identity of what is surely half of this year’s dream couple.

The Order of the Phoenix and, more specifically, Albus Dumbledore and the Weasley Family, were able to recognize Harry Potter-Black.  At an emergency meeting at Headquarters,  a little back-of-the-water property owned by the Vance family for generations, the Headmaster stared at Sirius Black.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, looking at the now-legal guardian of Harry Potter.

Sirius glanced at the article presented to him before breaking out into laughter.  “We had a good laugh at that one over Christmas,” Sirius conceded, looking at the happy tilt of his godson’s head as he unconsciously leaned toward Micah.  “I think it’s a rather good photograph, personally.”

“That Montague boy looks a bit possessive, though,” Remus added conversationally as he looked at the other occupant in the photograph.

“I thought he always looked like that!” Sirius exclaimed, eyes shining with amusement

“Well, around Hadrian, he does.” Remus fought to smother the chuckle Sirius’s antics caused.

“Sirius! Remus!” Dumbledore called out and the two looked up at him.  “Do you mean to tell us that Harry is in fact bonding with Micah Montague?”

“That,” Sirius stressed, his voice becoming darker, “if it is indeed true, would be a private family matter.  Only the Blacks and the Montagues would be privy to information before a formal announcement was made.”

“Don’t spout outdated pureblood etiquette at us, Sirius Black,” Molly interrupted before the Headmaster could respond.

“After the blood adoption,” Sirius calmly answered, “Hadrian is a pureblood.”

“And what would the problem be?” Remus put in.  “Micah’s from a good family, and he’s Head Boy at Hogwarts.”

“He’s far too young!” Molly answered hotly.

“But not too young for you to arrange a betrothal between him and your daughter,” Sirius said matter-of-factly. “Without. His. Knowledge.  Anything that’s happening now is with his consent. He wouldn’t have allowed the photograph otherwise.  You’re being hypocritical.”  His tone was icy and his eyes had darkened to a stormy gray-black.

“What betrothal?” Arthur piped in, his face wrinkled with confusion.

“You should ask the Headmaster and your wife, Arthur.  It was all but signed when Sirius blood adopted Hadrian this summer.” Remus’s arms were folded over his chest, and a frown of disapproval was on his face, but he was still keeping an eye on Sirius – whose rage only seemed to be escalating.

“And what would have been so bad about that?” Molly exclaimed, digging her grave further.  “They were made for each other.  Harry needs a nice girl to settle down with.”

“Harry was fourteen at the time and has never shown any preference for Ginny,” Sirius argued.  “I think this photo proves he is showing a preference now.”

“The marriage,” Dumbledore interjected, “simply cannot take place.  The Montagues are a known dark family and are suspected Death Eaters.”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Sirius growled.  “Harry has my full support in whatever he decides. And it’s a bonding, not a marriage!“

Dumbledore’s blue eyes lost their twinkle and, ignoring the correction, he turned to Snape.  “Severus?  Are the Montagues Death Eaters to your knowledge?”

The Potions master, who was sitting at the end of the table and watching the argument with barely concealed delight, looked at his former master.  “They are as much Death Eaters as Potter is,” he responded smoothly, “whatever their family reputation.”

Dumbledore sighed before turning his gaze back to the Weasleys.  Molly and Arthur were quietly arguing about Ginny’s betrothal and Arthur’s ignorance of it, while Bill had a closed off expression written on his handsome features.  He was still in shock over the announcement, and his behavior had altered so drastically that Fleur Delacour had threatened to leave him.

“Molly? Arthur? You were in Diagon Alley on Christmas Eve.  Did you see anything?”

Molly blushed before her husband answered for her.  “I believe the girls may have.  Ginny convinced Hermione to go to The Glass Slipper and they refused to say anything when they returned.  They also didn’t seem surprised at the Prophet article, either.”

“Any chance of an injunction?” Tonks put in, looking at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore shook his head.  “Not without revealing the ‘unidentified pureblood’ and, even then, Sirius could contest it.  Is there any way, Molly, I could question Miss Granger and Miss Weasley?”

“I think they would have told us if they knew anything,” Arthur answered, not wanting Ginny anymore involved than she already apparently was.

The meeting broke up soon afterward, Molly griping to her husband, who pointedly ignored her as he wondered what exactly his wife, Ginny, and Harry had to do with a betrothal contract; he knew he couldn’t ask any of them.

(o)

On 29 December, a small gathering was held in the old gardener’s cottage on the Riddle Estate.  An ancient Black tome had been taken off the shelves of Grimmauld Place and cracked open for the occasion, which held a sixteenth century magical bonding ceremony that didn’t require another witch or wizard to officiate. 

Only Harry and Micah entered the room where they were going to bond with one another, each wearing simple dark robes for the occasion.  Harry’s jade eyes glittered against the dark purple fabric that encased his slim form, his hair pulled back with a leather band – no adornment in his left ear.  Although he was uncomfortable in the purple robes, he looked every inch the pureblood heir as he lit a candle on the table between them.

Micah’s hair was down and flowed just past his shoulders, his golden eyes glinting in the candlelight.  He wore dark blue robes, which were tradition for the Montague family for private events.

“Ready?” he asked solemnly, giving Harry one more chance to back out.

Harry didn’t need it though, and nodded his head. 

Taking a silver blade that lay between them, he gently cut across Harry’s left palm before doing the same to his own.  Holding his hand out, he waited for Harry to clasp it, then turned to the tome that rested before him.

“In the name of Merlin’s Holy Light and Morgan’s Earth Magic,” Micah intoned, beginning the ceremony, before Harry picked up the next clauseat –

“We come together to join ourselves in a magical bond – to become one,” Harry continued.

Taking a deep breath, Micah turned until he could clearly see Harry’s profile in the flickering light.  He had never seen anything so beautiful, so right, and he smiled at the thought of Harry never leaving his side, never being touched by another, forever belonging to him and only him.  “In the spirit of magic, light and dark,” he swore, “I, Graham Micah Montague, do swear to uphold all things sacred as well as honor and cherish Hadrian Muliphein Gaunt in the old ways, until my eternal soul shall wither and die.”

His voice was strong, deep, and melodic, reflecting the predatory side of his inner wolf, and Harry had never heard such a beautiful sound as those words.  Despite himself, his eyes teared up until they glistened in the changing shadows. Micah, seeing this, reached out with his free hand to brush the tears away.

“In the spirit of magic, both light and dark,” Harry responded with his own oath, “I, Hadrian Muliphein Gaunt, known to the wizarding world as Hadrian James Potter-Black, do swear to uphold all things sacred as well as honor and cherish Graham Micah Montague in the old ways, until my eternal soul shall wither and die.”

The slight change in his vow would reflect that they would be bound both legally and in magic.  The bonding would be recorded under the name Potter-Black in the Ministry for Magic, ensuring secrecy of part of his blood adoption.

Micah took a deep breath before picking up Harry’s bonding ring in his right hand.  Slipping it onto Harry’s left ring finger, he recited, “With this ring I thee bond forever: with my body I thee worship: and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”  Their left hands still clasped together, he lightly traced the cool metal against Harry’s skin, marveling at how perfect it looked on him, how perfect Harry looked now that he was Micah’s.

Never taking his eyes off Micah, Harry picked up the remaining band and slid it onto Micah’s outstretched finger.  “With this ring I thee bond, forever:with my body I thee worship:and with all my worldly goods I thee endow,” he swore, his voice shaking slightly with emotion.

Was it possible for him to be so happy, Harry wondered, especially when he thought less than a week ago that Micah saw him nothing more than something to catch, a trophy to claim, a brood mare, even?  His heart felt like it was breaking for sheer joy in the moment, and, as Harry’s eyes drifted to Micah’s, he knew that this moment would forever be sacred to both of them.

Clasping their hands together, Micah slowly drew Harry toward him until he could whisper a soft “Hadrian” against his mate’s lips before claiming his mouth hungrily to seal their bonding.  As Micah’s tongue invaded his mouth, Harry submitted, allowing himself to drown in the sensations.  He nipped lightly against Micah’s lips and his mate only growled in elation, pulling him even closer, his hands reaching up and entwining themselves in Harry’s hair.

“I love you,” Harry gasped quietly as he finally drew back for air, neither noticing that with those soft words, barely a whisper, the marriage wands had emitted sparks of red and deep purple, sealing their unbreakable bond – ribbons of purple now swirling about their stems.

Micah looked darkly into Harry’s eyes and smiled at the hopeful expression painted in them.  “As I love you,” he admitted lowly, knowing if this wasn’t love, then he would never feel it.

Harry smiled brilliantly at those four words, knowing how much it took Micah to say them instead of insisting that Harry was his to claim.

After a short silence, Harry bit his lower lip and glanced over at their marriage wands.  “I wonder why more purebloods don’t elope,” he mused aloud, thinking of how simple their bonding had been.

“You have to mean it for there to be no witnesses.  And it is unbreakable.  We would die if we were unfaithful by choice.”

Harry hummed in the back of his throat.  “I guess you’re stuck with me, Romeo.”

“Only if I don’t have to take poison by the side of your tomb,” Micah teased and Harry looked shocked at his referencing the Muggle play.

“I guess you finished it, then.”

“Hard not to when my mate insists on calling me ‘Romeo‘.”

“Only because you’re a Montague.”

“Perhaps the Blacks will change their surname to Capulet.”

Harry scrunched up his nose in annoyance.  “I hope not.  Hadrian Potter-Capulet sounds wrong.”

They laughed quietly, neither wishing to leave the room yet and face the Montagues, Harry’s godfathers, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. 

“I wonder how often they check the Book of Bonding at the Ministry?” Harry asked, knowing that their union would now be legally recorded.

“Every few days, I would think, especially considering the Prophet article this morning.”

Harry chuckled at the latest speculation.  “I never knew I looked like a French aristocrat and was a Beauxbatons student, no less.”

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll be a half-veela despite your coloring,” Micah gently teased.

“Oh, to see their faces.  I suppose it’s time for champagne, then.”

“Not with Morpheus, Hadrian,” Micah growled, wanting nothing to affect his unborn child.

Harry rolled his eyes good naturedly, knowing that they wouldn’t know for another few days whether or not he was, in fact, pregnant.

“Fine! Butterbeer!” He laughed, before kissing Micah hastily and leaving the room, the marriage wands in his hands.

(o)

Viridian leaned against a balcony in the Dark Lord’s manor, his thoughts unfocused as he surveyed the assembled Death Eaters below them.  It was a routine meeting, the only interesting subject matter being Micah’s marriage to himself and the Death Eater monitoring his conversion to the Dark Arts.  It would be humorous, except for the little voice in the back of his head wondering if he was, in fact, pregnant.

Severus had promised to give him a potion that should be able to tell him as soon as the meeting was over.

He knew what Micah wanted; Micah wanted a child so that he could further claim him.  He wanted the world to eventually know that Harry belonged to him, and no one else could ever have him.  It was a typical werewolf response, and Harry couldn’t help but smile a little at it.

If anyone had asked him a year ago if he would have spoken more than a few words to Micah Montague, he would have thought they were crazy.  Now Harry was bonded to a tamed wolf, as Lord Voldemort referred to his condition, and possibly expecting his child.

Part of him wanted the baby desperately, wanted something of Micah’s growing inside of him, even though he still didn’t want to ruin the Dark Sect’s plans.  In the next month, they were set to free the loyal from Azkaban. Being pregnant would make him vulnerable.  He’d have to participate from the sidelines within the next few months, and a simple potions accident at Hogwarts could incapacitate him.

Whatever Dumbledore said, Hogwarts was not the safest place in Britain.

Harry was injured there almost as badly as he was at the Dursleys’ when they were purposefully trying to beat the magic out of him.

Anything could happen to the potential baby, and with a simple spell, Madam Pomfrey could find out.  Regardless of Muggle confidentiality laws, she would automatically tell the Headmaster, and then anything could happen.

The Dark Heir sighed, noticing that the meeting was now beginning to disperse.  A lone Death Eater was looking up at him and Harry recognized his husband’s shrouded form.  Tilting his head toward the Dark Lord’s study, he left the balcony and silently made his way through a series of hidden passages.

With a sigh, he quietly entered and, seeing that only Severus and Voldemort were present, he lowered his hood.

“Ready, Hadrian?” Severus asked, holding out a steaming cup of bubblegum pink potion that made Harry feel ill.

“Let’s just wait for Micah,” he responded, leaning up against the solid antique desk.  “What will happen when I take it?”

“Your abdomen will glow gold if you are with child, black if you are not.  If it’s too early to tell, nothing will happen.”

Harry nodded and, a few moments later, Micah entered with a knock.

Without a word, Harry reached out toward the goblet and, holding his nose, downed it in one gulp.  Trying not to shudder at the putrid taste, he mused that potions never tasted good.

He looked down at his abdomen but nothing happened. 

He sighed.  “Too soon then.”

“Patience,” Severus cautioned.

Micah tensed, looking intently at Harry.

Then it happened.  Harry could feel a slight warmth in his stomach that spread and tingled on the inside of his skin.

The three other wizards inhaled deeply at the sight and slowly, so slowly, he looked down, only to see his body enveloped in a gentle gold glow.