[This Lordship Business]: I Have Been a Brother to O.W.L.S, 40/40

[lomonaaeren]

“Dropping a statue on Voldemort’s head is not exactly what I meant, Harry.”

“But now he won’t come to the school anymore, sir.”

“The wards failed to keep him out once when he was a wraith. Do you not think he will possess someone and return that way?”

“Oh, he might try. But I’ll ask the wards and Hogwarts to watch out for him. And we’ll make sure that he stays out and away from the other students.”

Dumbledore puts a hand over his eyes. Harry doesn’t know why. He thinks his new plan is pretty good.

“Harry…”

“Yes, sir?”

Dumbledore lowers his hand and takes a deep breath. Harry cocks his head. The Headmaster is the one who came up to him in the middle of a random corridor and decided that today was the time to talk to him. Harry was just on his way to breakfast.

“I don’t want to trust the safety of my students to you as Lord Slytherin,” Dumbledore says slowly. “I am the one who is supposed to watch out for the students and monitor the wards to make sure that no one unwanted can enter the school.”

“Oh, if you want the responsibility, you just have to say so, sir,” Harry says, a little relieved. He knows that he can’t really give up the connection with Hogwarts and maybe won’t be able to even when he’s not a student anymore; it just goes too profoundly deep into what it means to be Lord Slytherin. But he could delegate. “You just need to actually do it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Not pretend that you did it and not do it. The way that you did when you said you were against bullying but didn’t stop it.”

Dumbledore stares at him. Then he speaks with his lips barely moving. “That is a disrespectful way to talk to me, Harry.”

Harry looks at him calmly. He wants Dumbledore as an ally, not an enemy. And he wants continued access to the Headmaster’s office so that Ahalam can do his courting or whatever he’s doing with Fawkes.

But he won’t let Dumbledore bully him. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry for that, sir. But you have to know that there’s a reason Hogwarts called to me and not you when Voldemort tried to enter through the Chamber of Secrets. A reason that it listened to me when it came to things like me not wanting to attend the Yule Ball. A reason that I haven’t tried to involve you more in what I’m doing. You keep too many secrets, and I don’t trust you to keep your word even if you say you will.”

Dumbledore closes his eyes and stands still for long enough that Ahalam wanders out of Harry’s sleeve. “We shall go to breakfast. There shall be toasted cheese this morning.”

“What happened to all the cheese I fed you yesterday?”

“I gave it to the bird.”

“Ahalam. There’s still a bulge in your middle.”

“I meant to give it to the bird.”

Harry shakes his head and glances up at Dumbledore. “Do you have anything more to say, sir? Because Ahalam is hungry.”

“What did I do to lose your trust so profoundly, Harry?” Dumbledore breathes. “I thought we had a good working relationship up until and even somewhat after you became—Lord Slytherin.”

“You tried to return me to an abusive environment, Headmaster,” Harry says. He’s thought about this, even if Dumbledore hasn’t, and he knows the answer. “Maybe you had your reasons, but you didn’t explain them clearly and you didn’t want to. And you’ve tried to do things like institute the Tri-Wizard Tournament that would have made the students under my care unsafe.”

“I told you about the reasons for that! International cooperation and the threat of Voldemort attacking us while we stand alone—”

“So far, no one who’s not my friend or godfather has done anything to help me with that,” Harry says evenly. “And I don’t believe that they would have even if the Tournament had been allowed to go ahead. They didn’t in the first war.”

“Harry, I cannot tell you everything…”

“I thought you had.”

Under his gaze, Dumbledore looks away and shakes his head. “I will monitor Hogwarts’s wards.”

“So will I,” Harry says, a little disappointed that Dumbledore still doesn’t try to explain the Dursleys, but understanding that he’s not going to get what he wants. There is no closure for something like this.

“I did have my reasons. I believed I had explained them to you adequately.”

“No, you didn’t. You could do that now.”

Dumbledore turns and walks away. Ahalam writhes on Harry’s shoulder until he can see Harry’s face. Harry thinks a question about Fawkes and whether they can still visit him is probably coming.

Instead, Ahalam asks, “Toasted cheese?”

“You probably shouldn’t even be eating as much regular cheese as you do. There’s no telling what toasted cheese will do to you.”

“That is not the same as a no.”

Harry laughs in surprise and shakes his head as he keeps walking down the stairs. Not everything in his life is perfect, but Ahalam is pretty close to it.

*

“Hello, class!”

Despite the end of their OWL exams, Sirius has invited them for “one last class before the curse takes me,” as he puts it, and everyone has shown up. Harry is the one who checks when he comes in the door, staring.

Sirius is sitting in the chair behind his desk with a wide smile and a leg propped out to the side, wrapped tightly with bandages.

“Sirius, what did you do?” Harry demands, forgetting that he tries to call his godfather Professor Black in front of the other students. They all know that Sirius is his godfather anyway, just like they know Harry is Lord Slytherin.

“Well, I call that a fine greeting for someone who always tries to make classes fun,” Sirius says, and stares at him with huge, mournful eyes.

Harry shakes his head impatiently. “Come off it, Sirius. I want to know what happened.”

“At least you don’t think it’s something I did!”

“I know it’s something you did.”

Sirius shakes his head and turns to face the rest of the class, his expression so mournful that Harry hears a few stifled giggles. “Are you listening?” he asks the class, plastering his hand over his chest. “My own godson has no sympathy when I fell down the stairs and broke my leg.”

“Maybe because he knows that some of us will tell him that we saw you hop off the staircase,” Susan says.

“Sirius.”

Sirius turns to Harry and waves his arms expressively. “But if I break my own leg, then that should forestall something bad happening because of the curse!”

Harry blinks. That’s something he never would have thought of, and it makes him a bit ashamed that he didn’t prioritize trying to break the curse on the Defense post before now. “I’m—not sure that’s the way it works.”

“I am!”

“Is that why you won’t go to Madam Pomfrey for some Skele-Gro to fix your leg?” Hermione asks. Harry looks at her and sees that she has her arms folded, her gaze stern. At least someone else thinks that Sirius is being childish.

“That would leave the curse open to strike at me another way,” Sirius explains grandly, spreading his arms even wider. “And I don’t think I can fool it by pretending to get hurt and then just reversing it an hour later.”

He smiles at Hermione, but there’s a glint in his grey eyes that Harry knows very well. He sighs. Hermione glances at him, and Harry subtly shakes his head. They’re not going to get his stubborn godfather to agree to anything.

Hermione sits back down at her desk, still with a frown on her face, and Harry takes his own seat. Sirius sits up and gives an entertaining lecture, even getting to his feet at one point to hobble around the desk and reenact a dramatic “duel” with an illusory opponent.

Harry just hopes that he won’t act the fool during the summer.

*

“Harry.”

His name, in Theo’s soft and deep voice, is still unexpected sometimes, given that Theo so often speaks his title. Harry turns around with a deep breath and manages to summon a smile. Theo, walking towards him, smiles back.

“Yes, Theo?” Harry is painfully aware that they’re in the middle of walking to the thestral-driven carriages, and can feel his face heat up with a blush. Other than Ahalam’s rock that Theo sent at breakfast, most of their courtship interactions have been in private.

Theo comes to a stop in front of Harry and half-bows. “I hope that this gift touches your soul,” he says, still in that soft voice, his eyes locked on Harry’s despite the awkward angle that gives his neck. “Please do me the favor of opening it in private, with only a few of your trusted followers.”

Harry read a little about courtship traditions at Hermione’s insistence, and he blinks. The suitor can ask that the person they’re courting look at the gift in private, but it’s unusual to do so. Most want to have every gift public so that people can look on and understand the commitment the suitor is making.

But if Theo asks—

And when he’s looking at Harry with those melting, shining grey eyes—

It seems simple to agree.

“All right,” Harry says simply, and accepts the silver box that Theo hands him, with an insignia on top in blue stones that resembles but is distinct from the symbol on Slytherin’s locket. It’s surprisingly light. For some reason, Harry thought all the gifts would be comparable in weight to the rock that Theo sent Ahalam.

Theo smiles over his shoulder at Harry, and then turns and walks calmly off, getting into a carriage separate from Harry for the first time in the last three terms.

“Huh,” Harry says, and looks at the box.

“In private, mate, remember?” Ron elbows Harry in the side and makes him wheeze a bit. Not that he’s going to be in a different compartment from Harry when he opens it, Harry thinks, given the curious way Ron is staring.

It seems that Hermione and Susan don’t intend to be left out, either, from the way they hover at his side. Harry is glad that Theo specified some other people could be there, or he might have had to kick them out of the compartment.

If he could.

Harry nods and tucks the box under his arm as he heads for the carriage. Ahalam is awake and staring down at the box with an expression as covetous as any a snake can probably wear.

“It is cheese.”

“It is not.”

“You do not know. It could be cheese.”

“You thought Voldemort’s gift was cheese, too.”

“Until you open the box, it is cheese.”

Sometimes Harry worries that he’s not as smart as his snake.

*

“Well, come on, mate, open it!”

Harry rolls his eyes at Ron as he settles back into the compartment on the Hogwarts Express. “You know that I might as well just not open it, and let you figure it out along with everyone else later?”

“You’re not going to kick me out, right?” Ron makes huge, helpless eyes that could compete with Sirius’s in his Animagus form, and Hermione stares at him from her own seat. Harry hopes that he hides his smile in time. “Or Hermione or Susan. You want an audience for his gift.”

“Well, yeah, but not because I think it’s going to be dangerous or anything.”

“No, because you want other people to see what it is,” Susan murmurs. Her hands are linked together, but Harry knows he hasn’t imagined the slight way her body is straining towards the box. “Because you’re proud of your courtship with Theo and want to put his gifts on display.”

Well, all right, Harry hasn’t really thought of it in those terms, but it might be true. He shakes his head, clears his throat, and ignores Hermione’s mutter of, “Oh, you didn’t know what Theo was planning this time?”

“Here goes,” he says, and slides the lid off the box.

Inside is a single scroll of parchment. Hermione and Susan peer at it with identical disappointed expressions. Harry resists the urge to tell them how alike they are and carefully plucks the scroll from the box.

“Well, open it already!” Ron doesn’t look disappointed; he’s practically bouncing in his seat.

“It wasn’t cheese,” Harry tells Ahalam as he unrolls the silver ribbon that’s tied the scroll shut.

“Maybe it is a subscription to cheese.”

“How do you know about subscriptions?”

“I am very smart.”

Harry shakes his head and finally looks down at Theo’s handwriting, allowing his eyes to trace the fancy calligraphy for a moment before he comprehends. He finds himself holding his breath, and dismisses it.

The wording looks to be that of an oath, similar to but a little different from the one Theo already swore to him. Harry blinks. Does Theo want to be free of the oath? Does he think it’s too strict?

Then he sees what Theo’s written underneath that.

I know that you are uneasy about the fact that you are my lord as well as my courted. This is a variation of the oath that I will swear if and when our union becomes permanent. It will not allow you to control or compel me. It simply guarantees loyalty in every way.

It is a variation of the marriage oath, Harry. And I have hope that you will be willing to swear the same to me when we are standing in front of your godfather and the holy stones of House Nott to pledge our souls to each other.

Theo’s scrawling signature is underneath that.

Harry’s hand trembles a little as he holds out the parchment to Hermione, who’s bouncing in place. His expression must be something deeper than he thinks if she wants to see it so badly. And yes, he’s trembling in the rest of his body, too.

“Harry. Oh my God.”

“Merlin,” Susan mutters as she peers over Hermione’s shoulder at the scroll, and Harry honestly doesn’t know if she’s contradicting Hermione or just expressing her own incredulity. Luckily, if she is contradicting Hermione, Hermione doesn’t take offense. She’s too busy staring.

“I want to see, I want to see.”

Harry resists the temptation to tell Ron how much he sounds like he’s five years old as he rescues the scroll and hands it to him. Ron goes quiet and solemn as he reads it, and then he lifts his head and stares at Harry.

“Do you know what this means, mate?”

“Yeah. He wants to marry me.”

The thought somehow still seems weird to Harry, even though he’s been offered two courtships now and he knows where they usually lead. It’s just—things with him never turn out the way anyone expects them to. (Voldemort’s courtship certainly didn’t). So he never realized that Theo might actually be counting on this courtship to reach fulfillment.

It’s—

Harry thinks he might want it. He isn’t entirely sure, though. He doesn’t know. He leans back on the seat in the compartment and breathes, while staring at the ceiling (and reassuring Ahalam there is nothing in the scroll about cheese).

“You don’t have to marry him,” Susan whispers. “He would never force you, my lord.”

“I know. That’s exactly why I might want it. Theo understands the difference between a lord and a husband, and he’s willing to reswear an oath that I know he values so it would make me more comfortable.”

“But?”

Harry shrugs. “I still don’t even know for certain that I’m gay. I don’t want to get married too young just because that’s what a lot of wizards and witches seem to do. I might meet someone I like better. Or Theo might.”

“I don’t think Theo will,” Susan says softly. “He’s—gone. You can see it in his eyes.”

“You could always have a long betrothal,” Ron says, finally looking up from the scroll. He’s still feeling the edges of it with his fingers, maybe to see if it’s real, and he looks a little dazed. “That would give you time to think about it, and look around, and even court someone if you decide that you do like someone else better.”

“You think Theo would agree to that?”

“I think he would agree to anything that might lead to marriage,” Hermione says. She seems to have recovered from her shock, since she speaks in a brisk voice. “And anyway, you still don’t have to marry him. Or just do what he wants. You have the right to make a decision.”

Harry swallows and nods. He knows he’ll need to talk to Theo, and see if this is really what they both want. Ask about a betrothal. Ask whether Theo wants to be released from his oath early.

But at least they can talk about it. At least there’s that.

*

“My lord.”

Theo is waiting for him when they get off the train. Harry takes a deep breath, and then he smiles at him. He gives Ahalam to Susan and walks over to talk to Theo next to one of the Floos. He has the feeling it should be just him and Theo.

“You looked at it?”

“Yes. And I—I’d like to make sure of two things first.”

“Of course.”

Theo’s eyes are so intent on Harry’s face that Harry can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks again. But he shakes his head a little and asks, “First, do you want to be freed from the oath you have now? Do you find it too restrictive?”

“No,” Theo says instantly. “I will always want to be bound to you, my lord. Unless you find the oath restrictive and would rather that it vanish.” Theo cocks his head. “I did rather manipulate you into it.”

“No,” Harry responds as quickly. “It’s fine with me.” He takes a deep breath. “The second thing is, well, we’re still young, and I don’t want to rush this. Will you agree to a long betrothal at the end of the courtship?”

Theo blinks, and Harry freezes. Did he misread the signs? Was Theo really just offering this courtship as a joke or to give Harry a “reason” not to choose Voldemort? Was he not really thinking of marriage at all, and—

And then Theo smiles in a way that Harry has never seen before, all sunlight and hope, and says, “I would be honored to be betrothed to you, Harry.” He raises a hand that trembles to Harry’s cheek. “But do let me give the rest of my courtship gifts first. I’ve put a lot of thought into them.”

Harry smiles at him and leans forwards. Theo meets him at the same time.

Their kiss is soft and awkward and everything Harry wants at the moment.

The moment lasts long enough for them to pull apart, and Theo’s eyes flutter open. He stares at Harry with such awe that Harry blushes yet again. Then Theo grabs Harry’s hand and turns to face someone who’s come up behind them.

“We have your approval, Professor Black?” Theo asks.

Sirius, his leg still wrapped in bandages, is clapping. A second later, he hoots loudly, which makes everyone in King’s Cross turn to look at them. “That’s my boy!” he shouts. “All grown up!”

Harry clears his throat. “What happened to your leg, Sirius? I thought you were going to take Skele-Gro when you got home?”

Sirius pouts at him. “I came out of the Floo and tripped and really broke it in a way that Skele-Gro won’t fix. It has to heal naturally. Bloody curse.” He points back and forth between Harry and Theo, his grin mad enough to make Harry believe all the rumors about the Black family. “But this makes up for it.”

Harry laughs aloud, and the feeling of Theo’s hand in his and Sirius’s grin aimed at him—and Susan and Hermione and Ron watching with big smiles, while Ahalam dances in Susan’s hands—are all he ever wanted.

Later, there will be considerations, and concern from Remus, and also cheese.

But for now, there’s wonder.

The End.