lomonaaeren

Part Two.

Title: Thirteen Gifts (3/3)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry Potter/Theodore Nott
Content Notes: Getting together, Hogwarts “eighth year,” angst, present tense
Rating: R
Wordcount: 3300
Summary: Not expecting that he would get a response, Theo sent Harry a gift to tell him how much he admired him for his defeat of Voldemort. And then, wonder of wonders, Harry replied. The tale of two people learning to see each other.
Author’s Notes: This is another of my “From Samhain to the Solstice” fics, for a request by Lullyanne for another Harry/Theodore fic. This will be the second part of three.

Thank you for all the reviews! This is the last part of the story.

Part Three

Formal Offer

Harry taps the scroll against his hand and stares again at the braided red and blue ribbons that tie it closed. Then he shakes his head and goes back to pacing around the top of the Astronomy Tower. No, he has too many questions, and no answers that can be found just by staring at a sheet of parchment. He’ll wait until Theo gets here, and then he can ask them.

It’s cloudy and chill around him, a typical April day at Hogwarts. Harry rests his hands on the battlements and listens to the soft click of his betrothal bracelet’s jewels against the stone. He breathes deep and tries to think of something other than the offer the scroll contains.

But it’s rather difficult.

Footsteps shoot up towards him, and Harry relaxes. After so much time spent together, he knows Theo’s way of walking as well as the taste of his skin. He turns around with a smile, and Theo gives him one in return as he comes over to lean on the battlements next to Harry.

Harry exhales. “Well.”

“Well.” Theo turns towards him and sweeps a little half-bow that makes Harry gape at him in awe. Honestly, he could never do that kind of thing. He’s clumsy except when he’s on a broom or making love with Theo. “I’m sorry for doing this in a less formal way than the traditional betrothal contract, but neither you nor I have family left. It’s not as though I could approach your parents for permission, and I didn’t think you would want me contacting your Muggles.”

“Uh, no!” Harry says so hard that his voice cracks, and Theo’s eyes narrow a little in what might be satisfaction. Harry hastily says, “Um, no. But—this is less formal? Theo, I don’t understand one word in three.”

Theo’s face softens and he takes another scroll from his pocket. “I knew that you might not, so I wrote out another offer in simpler language. The legal language is just the kind of thing that betrothal contacts demand at first.”

“Why do you want to do a formal one at all?” Harry asks as he unties the green and scarlet ribbons on this contract. “You know that you’re welcome to whatever I have, and I know we’ll be sharing what you do.”

“I want to do everything right,” Theo says, and he reaches out and rests the ring on his finger over the bracelet on Harry’s hand. “I want everything right. Unbreakable. Harry—for me this is for life.”

Harry gapes at him, even though he never imagined walking away from marriage himself, and it’s increasingly hard to imagine himself walking away from Theo. “I see,” he whispers, and drops his gaze to the contract.

That Theodore Nott asks for the hand of Harry Potter, espoused and formal.

That he offers his residence, and all Nott properties, as houses that Harry Potter can live in, in perpetuity.

That he offers to share the Nott vaults, and give Harry Potter his own Gringotts key.

That he offers his body and his heart, and swears to be faithful.

That he will offer Harry Potter honesty when asked for, although it might be years before he answers certain questions.

That he will offer his bed and his life and anything else he acquires that is not houses or money to Harry Potter in full half share.

That he offers his love and his attention that will never wander.

That he agrees to adopt children if Harry Potter wants them.

That he agrees to combine their names or take the Potter name, if that is what Harry Potter wants.

That he will give up everything else, to have Harry Potter at his side.

Harry swallows and looks up with a croak. Theo is watching him with luminous eyes, a kind of light in them that Harry never realized he could have.

“I mean it,” Theo repeats softly. “For me, this is for life.”

“For me, too,” Harry says, but his voice is still a croak. He clears his throat. “I promise that I’ll give you a formal reply to your contract, Theo, and it’ll be everything that you need and deserve and want. I just—need to think about the wording first. I don’t want to just imitate your wording.”

“I appreciate that.” Theo gently trails his knuckles along Harry’s cheek. “Please make sure that you look up the right protocols, or get someone to look them up for you. I’m legally not allowed to give you advice, and I’m not allowed by tradition to tell you what I want. I have to make an offer, and you have to decide what you’re willing to offer in return.”

“Even though we might both know that we agree and we’ll accept anything that either of us offers?”

“Even then.”

Theo gives him a soft, sweet kiss, before he turns and walks back down from the Astronomy tower, and leaves Harry clutching the contract in a way that makes it feel more like a lifeline than the millstone it might have been before.

Informal Answer

Theo closes his eyes and admits it to himself as he flattens the contract on the table in front of him: he’s nervous. Harry might not have followed the pure-blood traditions and protocols correctly in his response to Theo’s contract.

Theo will still absolutely accept his hand in bonding if he didn’t, of course. But it will make it harder, and he will wonder, in one part of himself, whether Harry cares as much about him as the dress robes and the ring say he does.

Theo looks down at the contract.

It’s actually two, he sees a second later, a smaller, sleeker piece of parchment peeking out from beneath the top one. And the top one…is a legal contract. Not the perfect mirror of the one that Theo offered him at first, but done in the same kind of language. Harry cared enough to find a solicitor for this.

Theo blinks tears aside. He brushes the looping legal calligraphy, covered with gold dust, with a single finger. Then he puts aside that contract, even though he can understand it far more easily than Harry could, to study the second one, the important one.

That Harry Potter agrees to take the hand of Theodore Nott, espoused and formal.

That he offers the house at Grimmauld Place for Theodore Nott to live in until he’s tired of it, because he pretty much doesn’t have any other houses, and sorry but there’s a screaming portrait on the wall of the one he does have.

That he offers Theodore Nott a vault key to his own vaults, and apologizes for the state of them, with coins all over the floor, which probably isn’t what he wanted to see.

That Harry Potter offers Theodore Nott his bed, his life, his heart, his soul—wait, no, scratch that last part, probably, there are really good reasons not to promise that.

That Harry Potter can promise he’ll never look at anyone else, because he would be a fool to do that.

That Harry Potter promises to stand at Theodore Nott’s side, and offer him whatever else he asks for that this contract doesn’t cover.

That Harry Potter thinks it’s a good idea to combine their names, whichever way Theodore Nott thinks best—just don’t approve Notter, please—and discuss adopting children at a later date.

That Harry Potter is getting pretty tired of writing in a formal way and starting every sentence with “That,” and that he hopes Theodore Nott is prepared to accept this contract as his best effort.

Theo lays the contract down. They have things to negotiate, still, but his heart is bursting and soaring the way it did when Harry offered him the ring.

They are going to do things properly.

Public Acknowledgement

Theo steps into the Great Hall with a small box in his hands and a determined expression on his face.

Harry feels his heart jump, and smiles in a way that he thinks is probably stupid. But stupid or not, Theo is going to do this exactly the way he’s doing it. And that’s his choice. Harry wouldn’t try to convince him otherwise.

He watches as Theo walks towards him. The Slytherin table is chattering like a flock of magpies, but they fall silent as they watch Theo come closer and closer to the Gryffindor one. Harry thought everyone knew by now that he and Theo were courting, but maybe some people thought it was a rumor and didn’t believe it.

Now they’ll have to, Harry thinks, and touches the wire of the bracelet embedded into his wrist before he steps forwards to meet Theo.

“Harry Potter,” Theo says softly, and then slides to one knee right in the middle of the Great Hall. “In confirmation of our contracts, and our betrothal, I bring you a key to my vaults at Gringotts.”

There are people whispering and gaping and actually asking questions now. Harry doesn’t pay attention to any of them. He smiles and reaches out to take the box from Theo. It’s small but unexpectedly heavy. He realizes as he opens it that it’s not covered in silver paper, the way he assumed. It’s made of silver.

In the center of a small velvet cushion like the one he gave Theo the mirror on is a shining golden key. Harry picks it up and sees it’s on a slender chain, also made of silver. He hangs the key gently around his neck and leans down to kiss Theo lingeringly.

That seems to be too much for their audience, some of whom sound as if they’re going to literally explode.

“Potter and Nott?”

“Potter and a Death Eater?”

“Potter and a Slytherin?”

“I don’t believe it! Nott must be controlling him somehow!”

“Potter is immune to the Imperius Curse, though!”

“Who cares about that? There are such things as love potions!”

Harry rolls his eyes and reaches down to draw Theo to his feet. Theo comes up gracefully, although he’s clenching his jaw. Harry hopes he still thinks it’s worth it to bond with Harry after all the stupid insinuations.

But right now, it’s not for Theo to fight them. Harry turns around, with his arm tight on Theo’s shoulders, and says, “You’re all idiots.”

That at least silences them. Harry snorts a little and faces Theo again, stroking the sides of his cheeks, and watches his eyes flutter shut. Meanwhile, Harry continues in a loud voice so that all the idiots on all sides of the Great Hall can hear him.

“I’m going to marry Theodore Nott because I love him. There’s no love potion. He was never a Death Eater. That’s his father, who’s now serving a life sentence in Azkaban. As for his House, that won’t matter once we take the NEWT’s, and in the meantime, I was almost a Slytherin. The Hat wanted to put me there. So shove your bigotry, will you?”

Theo’s eyes snap open. He grabs Harry’s arms and drags him out of the Great Hall. Harry blinks and goes along with him. All he can think of is that something he said must have violated some clause of that torturous formal contract.

The moment they’re out of the Great Hall, Theo presses him up against the wall and stares at him piercingly. “When were you going to tell me that you were almost a Slytherin?”

“Er. I mean, I just forget about it most of the time. I only said it now because I couldn’t stand to hear them gossiping about you, like being a Slytherin is somehow a horrible thing to be.”

Theo leans hard on him and kisses him so that his mouth tingles. “I appreciate the defense. In the future, you are going to tell me those secrets, those private things about yourself, when we’re in private. No more sacrificing them to appease the sensibilities of people who could never appreciate them.”

“You’re actually jealous?”

“I want to know everything about you. As much as possible, before anyone else does,” Theo says passionately. “Promise me, Harry.”

“Er, yes,” Harry says, still a little bewildered. He wouldn’t have thought that him being in Slytherin was some great secret. He genuinely doesn’t think about it most of the time. On the other hand, he wants Theo to have everything he wants. “If that’s the way you want it to be.”

Theo cups the back of his neck and kisses him again. “It is.”

Passionate Secret

Theo knows the moment Harry halts in front of him that he has something to say. Theo draws in a deep breath to calm his nerves before he smiles at Harry. He keeps being afraid that Harry will come to his senses, or at least wake up from the loving trance that seems to have given him to Theo in the first place, and call the marriage off.

But Harry meets Theo’s gaze, and nods a little before he leans forwards to kiss him, ignoring, as usual, the fact that they’re right in the middle of the Charms corridor. “Can you come with me? I want to tell you something.”

I want to know everything about you.

Theo feels his heartbeat pick up. He nods and makes sure, one time, that he has all his books before he follows Harry towards Gryffindor Tower. Some of the Slytherins who still haven’t learned from the war like to hex his belongings, as if they think a torn page in a book will somehow convince him not to bond with Harry.

They only wish they were in my place, Theo thinks complacently. It’s true for Draco at least, and probably for most of the others. Not that they want specifically to bond with Harry Potter, but having someone beautiful and powerful and giving fall in love with them? That’s not something most of his classmates are ever going to have.

And none of them are ever going to have Harry.

Harry turns around when they’re on the fourth floor, and nods to a small door that leads into a little-used classroom. “I’m going to tell you here. It’s more private than my bedroom in Gryffindor Tower could ever be.”

Theo knows why. Harry’s roommates don’t seem to be gossipy people on first glance, at least not worse than Slytherins. But they do tend to blurt things out, and Theo wants this to be as solitary as possible. He enters the classroom, and immediately feels the hum of the numerous privacy spells Harry’s set up.

Whatever this is, it’s important.

Theo turns around. Harry steps towards him and then stops, staring at the floor. Theo promptly tilts his head back up.

“I want to know,” he says softly. “I don’t care how dark it is or how shameful. It’s part of you, so I want to know.”

Harry nods, and his eyes dart up once before he reaches out and his hand closes hard around Theo’s. “I didn’t know about magic before I was eleven,” he confesses in a low voice. “Hagrid is the one who brought me to the wizarding world. My relatives told me my parents died in a car crash.”

Theo tightens his hold on Harry’s face. They went to Muggle London once, and he knows exactly what a car looks like now. “I can still torture them if you want.”

“No, I still just never want to see my aunt and uncle again.” Harry draws in a charged breath, and Theo realizes that wasn’t the whole secret. “My—I know my parents are heroes now. I know they loved me. But I grew up resenting them so much, Theo, for dying and stranding me with the Dursleys. Sometimes I still have dreams where they found some other way to survive, or where they never fought against Voldemort at all. And sometimes I still think when I wake up that that would be better.”

Theo clutches his fingers and says nothing. It sounds like Harry has to purge a lot of poison before he’ll be done.

“And then I found out that my parents were heroes, and I didn’t know what to do with that.” Harry stares at their joined hands. “And I found out that Dumbledore was the one who left me with the Dursleys, and I found out other things about him later, too. He wasn’t as heroic as I thought he was. I won’t blurt out all those secrets because everyone reveres him and they need someone to revere. It keeps them from trying to do that to me.”

He raises his eyes and locks them with Theo’s. “There are times I hate and resent him, Theo, so that I don’t have to hate and resent my parents.”

Theo pulls Harry forwards and holds him securely in his arms. Harry has closed his eyes; Theo knows from the delicate brush of eyelashes against his shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do,” Harry whispers. “It just seems like—so much. Most of the time everything is fine, but then sometimes someone praises Dumbledore or tells me again that my parents are heroes and they died fighting for the greater good, and I have to walk away.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Theo whispers back. “Remind me to tell you sometime how much I resent my father.”

“But—you don’t think I’m petty for it?”

“You would rather they had lived for you. It wasn’t possible, but you’d rather it was.”

Harry’s arms tighten until Theo feels as if he can’t breathe. He treasures each moment of it. “Yes. That’s exactly it. Fuck, why are you so good at saying everything I’m thinking?”

Theo gently eases back and uses his thumbs to rub tears from Harry’s cheeks. “What is your betrothed for?”

Gift of the Self

Harry’s heart is full.

He stands next to Theo, both of them wearing dark blue robes embroidered with silver. Harry knows those colors stand for the night sky, for the soft arch of darkness above them that blesses their union.

His friends keep giving him sidelong glances for choosing to bond at night. Harry doesn’t care. He likes the tradition that Theo explained to him: both that bonding at night has been a tradition in the Nott family for a long time, and that it lets the dead, who are stronger in the darkness than in the light, attend the ceremony.

A small fire burns between them. Theo turns and extends his hand. Harry reaches across the fire to clasp it.

“I welcome you to my family,” Theo begins in a low voice, “with my whole heart. I swear to you that no one shall come in my heart before you.”

“I swear the same.” Harry draws his breath in and thinks he sees a flicker of silver off to the side, as if a spirit is there, before he continues the vow. “I welcome you to my bed, with my whole body. I swear to you that I shall grace no one else with my body.”

“I swear the same.” Theo’s hand tightens crushingly. Harry knows that he’ll both keep that vow and go to insane lengths to ensure that Harry does. Not that he needs to; Harry doesn’t want anyone else. “I welcome you to my mind, with all my thoughts circling over you and pivoting towards your good. I swear to you that no one else shall enter my mind unless it is after you.”

“I swear the same.” Harry is glad that Theo left this last vow to him, even if he’s so nervous saying it that his voice shakes. “I welcome you to my self, to the vast bounds of it and to the depths of it, to the dark and the light. I swear to you that no one else shall know as much of what is hidden there as you do.”

“I swear the same.”

The ring on Theo’s finger and the bracelet on Harry’s wrist begin to blaze like stars. Harry catches his breath. He knew this would happen if they meant the vows, and of course they both do, but it’s still amazing to watch.

The ring flows like a silver serpent around Theo’s hand, reshaping itself into a single ring far back on his finger, a bracelet on his wrist, and a slender chain that connects them. Then all the metal sparkles and sinks into Theo’s skin to form a permanent mark. Harry’s bracelet does the same, although his ring and chain, like his bracelet, are on his right hand, and he’s already used to them being part of the skin.

He raises his eyes and sees two familiar shades standing behind Theo. From the way Theo’s eyes widen, he’s seeing the shade of his mother behind Harry, but Harry can’t turn to look, even though he wants to see her. Theo has promised that Harry can see her at the Fire of the Dead on Halloween, and Harry is going to hold him to that.

Instead, he feasts his eyes on his parents, his mother and father arm in arm, and their forgiving smiles that tell him they know the secret he told Theo and they’re fine with it. He smiles at them, and his eyes well with tears, and sometime in between when the tears start and when Harry dashes them away, his Mum and Dad are gone.

Theo leans forwards to kiss him, and the small wedding party—Hermione, the Weasleys, Malfoy, Bulstrode, and a few Slytherins Harry doesn’t know well—begin to cheer. Their voices echo into the darkness of the summer night, the night of the thirty-first of August, thirteen months to the day that Theo sent Harry the carved raven for his birthday.

*

“Ah, Theo…”

Harry has his head tossed back on his pillow, his crisp dark hair almost blending with the dark blue of the silk. Theo is gritting his teeth to hold himself back as he sinks into Harry’s body. They’re in his bedroom at Nott Manor, where they made love for the first time, although in darkness except for the soft light of the moon through the window, as is traditional for a Nott bonding.

Potter-Nott, now, Theo thinks smugly. That’s the combination of their names now, and he thinks it’s a good one.

“Move, already.”

Observations and irrelevant thoughts flee. Theo rocks forwards, thrusts, and Harry’s head is more than thrown back before him, it’s thrown back in glee, in triumph, and Theo loses everything except the sensation of heat around him and the glorious future before them.

He gives Harry everything he has, everything Harry can take, in imitation of their bonding vows, in keeping of them, and they don’t make love for very long before Harry comes with a drawn out half-grunt, half-sigh. Theo follows him the second he can feel Harry’s body squeezing around him. Merlin, it’s perfect.

Theo sags down on Harry, and stays there. He’s going to hold Harry throughout the night, and stay in his body as long as he can. It isn’t many hours until sunrise, with the early summer dawns. He’ll wake tomorrow, and know that the first of September is a beginning, but not the beginning of the school years they’ve finished. It’ll be the start of their life together, and that matters far more.

Harry turns and snuggles into Theo’s arms. “I saw my parents,” he says around a yawn. “They’re okay. They know.”

“Good,” Theo says, and not anything else. He can’t tell Harry, not yet, of how he saw his mother standing behind Harry, her dark eyes full of yearning.

But he will. He’ll tell Harry that, because all their secrets belong to each other now.

Harry’s arms come up and clasp him, and he says, “I love you, Theo.”

“I love you, Harry,” Theo says, and drops his head so that he can rest his cheek against his husband’s.

And the world turns towards morning.

The End.