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Chapter Text

The room was only dimly lit when Harry blinked to wakefulness, dawn not fully able yet to illuminate much of anything. For a moment, he just lay there, in the warm and fluffy bed, savouring the warmth and comfort. From where he lay, he could see snow swirling outside the window.

So they did get a White Christmas after all.

The thought pulled a smile from his lips as he stretched languidly, sucking in the fragrance of comfort and love and home. Resting a hand on his stomach, his eyes wandered back to the window again, watching the dancing snowflakes.

Five years ago, it had been snowing like this as well…

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Antonin ~*~*~*~*~

Harry sucked in the fresh air, glad to finally be alone. He pulled his father’s cloak closer around his shoulders as he took his first steps away from the castle. The wind was howling and the snow swirled across the grounds, he was thankful the Invisibility Cloak also kept him warm. Though, it wasn’t the only reason he kept it close to his body; it also covered him completely. Kept him hidden, kept him safe from prying eyes and whispers. 

Not that he suspected anyone else to be dumb enough to be outside in weather like this. Not at this hour of the night. But one could never be careful enough - constant vigilance and all that - and Harry didn’t want to be seen by anyone, not even his so-called friends and mentors.

Maybe it was just a phase, perhaps only his mood. But recently, Harry had a feeling that his friends weren’t acting like such anymore. Ron was moody all the time, contradicting everything Harry said, arguing just to argue it seemed. He wanted Harry to speak up about Umbridge’s abuse from the year before. He wanted Harry to be doing something about the war, making plans, out there fighting. Realistically, Harry knew that it was because Arthur had been hurt because of his Order duties. Kept reminding him that he had almost lost Sirius in the Ministry. But did Ron really expect Harry to have all the answers? He didn’t even know what this war was about! He sighed, they seemed to be pulling apart now, further and further. It was as if a crash was about to happen and Harry could see it, clear as day, but could do nothing against it. Everything he said or did seemed to set Ron off - Harry just wanted his best mate back. 

And Hermione? Harry would probably never understand girls but he had always thought he understood his other best friend, at least to some extent. And now he just didn’t anymore. She was pulling away from them further and further… or really, only from Harry. He had often enough seen her with Ron, talking in hushed voices, falling silent when Harry entered the room. It was a terrible feeling and Harry couldn’t take it anymore.

That wasn’t even getting him started on Dumbledore; he thought miserably as he mulishly kicked a stone. Harry couldn’t help but feel like the old fool was hiding things from him, using him for Merlin only knew what end. Just a few months ago, he had trusted the old man with everything he had. Now? Now, something just seemed… off. Harry couldn’t even pinpoint it. He just knew something wasn’t right anymore…

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Antonin ~*~*~*~*~

When Harry blinked again, he had a feeling that he must have slept for a few more minutes. The room was a little brighter than it had been, long shadows stretched across the room, and Harry could see tiny golden dust motes in the air. Still, he was sure it was early enough to not worry about rising for the day yet. Whispering a quick tempus, he smiled softly when he was correct. It was barely past seven in the morning.

So instead of rushing to wake up fully, Harry revelled in the chance to sleep in. Who knew how much longer they would be able to. 

He smiled at the thought, turning his gaze from the window to the head of messy hair beside him. All he could see was a mess of soft golden-brown curls, broad shoulders and a muscular back covered in tattoos. The even breaths told him that right now, he was the only one awake in this room.

Turning slowly, he reached out and traced one of the patterns on the soft skin - like he did so often. Like he had fallen in love doing almost every morning and whenever he had a chance. Like he had been doing for so many years now.

Sometimes, when he traced a particularly ornate swirl, Harry’s thoughts would wander again. Wander and wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t found him that fateful night.

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Antonin ~*~*~*~*~

A particularly hard gust of wind pulled the hood of the cloak away from Harry’s face, pulling him from his grave thoughts. Confused, he looked around and… oh.

He had made his way across the grounds and close to the Forbidden Forest. Just a few more steps and he would have entered it and become encased by those tall trees. At least he would have been safe under his father’s cloak. 

Walking along the forest border, it wasn’t long until Harry drew close to the gates that marked the entrance of the school grounds. Looking around, he made a split-second decision and climbed over. The moment he hit the ground, he sighed heavily, as if he had just shed a weight that had long been on his shoulders. He turned to look back at the gates and up to the castle. Hogwarts had been home for so long... why did it suddenly feel like such a relief to climb the fences? Why did it feel like breaking free?

A sudden familiar hoot made Harry spin around. He knew that voice, knew that call. Hedwig had been gone for a few days now - and reasonably often left him alone these past few weeks, he didn’t remember seeing her all that much if he really thought about it.

“Hedwig?”

The hooting sounded again, closer this time. Harry pulled out his wand, and after a quick lumos, he moved in the direction of the noise.

Only to stop in the middle of his tracks, wand raised in defence.

A tall, vaguely familiar, figure appeared out of the shadows of the forest.  Hary shifted on his feet, ready to attack if necessary, the only reason he didn’t curse the person on the spot was for the simple fact that Hedwig perched on his shoulder. Looking for all the world like she was on Harry’s own. Like she was as familiar with this person as she was with Harry. 

Harry eyed her carefully, searching for any kind of distress or panic or even a sign that she was hurt, or cursed, or... something. But she seemed fine, entirely at ease. She even caressed the man’s cheek with her beak. It made the man’s face pull into a soft smile, though his gaze never left Harry, both hands raised as if to show he meant no harm.

“Please don’t be alarmed.”

“Don’t be alarmed? Who are you? And what are you doing with my owl?”

“Your owl, she found me. I’m not doing anything with her. She’s free to go as she pleases.”

As if to prove his point, Hedwig nipped at the man’s chin once more and took off, settling on a low hanging branch close by.

Harry ignored her for now, not losing his focus on the man. Though he did have to admit that Hedwig’s behaviour helped calm his nerves somewhat. His owl was the most intelligent being he knew and her instincts were remarkable. If she trusted the man, Harry was reasonably sure it was safe to do the same.

Still, he didn’t lower his wand just yet.

“You haven’t answered my question yet. Who are you?”

Hands still raised, the man took a step closer and into the light of Harry’s wand - it was enough for Harry to see the man’s face and he recognised it instantly.

“Dolohov!”

The first curse was already on his lips when Dolohov’s wand was suddenly out, and a simple expelliarmus had Harry’s wand flying into his waiting hand.

Did he just use Harry’s signature spell against him?

“Look,” Dolohov spoke before Harry could react further. “I am not here to harm you! Hell, I’m here for the exact opposite. Harry, I’m here to save you.”

“Save me? Save me!?! You cursed Hermione!”

“I didn’t hurt your friend; I tried to save her. I saw the spell heading toward her and tried to dispel it. Though I couldn’t speak the incantation, I had hoped it would be enough. Is she alright?”

Harry gaped at him, completely flabbergasted at the concern his voice held. 

“You’re insane, aren’t you? Too many cruciatus’ to the head? I saw you.” 

Dolohov took a step forward, “What? Harry, no. Whatever it is you think you saw, it wasn’t me trying to curse a child. I was one of the ones trying to save you all.” 

“Are you crazy? The only thing I need saving from is you and the nutcase you’ve committed your life to!”

“That ‘nutcase’ is not who you think he is,” Dolohov insisted, stepping closer again, bringing him within arm’s distance. 

“He’s pure evil! He killed my parents-”

“He did not!”

That, more than anything else he could have said, rendered Harry speechless.

“What?” he asked, the word coming out as barely a whisper. 

“He didn’t kill your parents,” Dolohov said softly, and if Harry were paying attention, he would have caught the compassion in his words. 

“I- I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“He didn’t kill your parents,” Dolohov repeated a third time. “He was there that night to save them. To save you.”

Harry sucked in a breath and held it. That couldn’t be true, Voldemort couldn’t… no. He must be lying. 

“This is a trick. You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not. I swear to you I’m not. I’ll take an Unbreakable Vow if that’s what you need to believe me.” 

Harry met his eyes, saw the small crease in the corner that spoke of how he knew this must be affecting Harry. That he knew the turmoil his words were causing in his heart. 

Violently, Harry turned away from him, taking a few steps as his hands fisted in his hair. He clenched his eyes shut as Dolohov began speaking again. 

“He got word that you were to be attacked, Pettigrew was able to escape Dumbledore in time to tell him that the fidelus had been wrested from him. It was Dumbledore that attacked you that night. Dumbledore that killed your parents.”

And suddenly, Harry’s memory of that night came back in full, that maniacal laughter, he had never heard Voldemort laugh like that, never in all their encounters so far. But once, just once, when he was leaving Dumbledore’s office, he had heard it. Soft, quiet, but he had heard it. It had unsettled him to the bone, and until now, he had not known why. 

“Why?” he rasped, his throat sticking around the word.

“Because your mother found out the truth. Because she figured out that Dumbledore has been lying to us all, she found out the truth about the war, about the prophecy, and about Dumbledore himself. That’s why they went into hiding, why they used the fidelus in the first place. Dumbledore had access to your family’s manor.”

Harry swallowed hard, released the hold on his hair and turned back to Dolohov, “But why? What truth?”

“That Dumbledore is only powerful when there is someone to oppose him. After he defeated Grindelwald - and at that time, he really was the hero the world needed - he had power, fame, glory. Everyone listened to him, he was respected, people praised him in the streets and he only had to crook his finger to be handed a silver platter. But after a while, people began to forget, began to lower his pedestal. Grindelwald and his atrocities were forgotten, and so Dumbledore’s legend too began to dull. And then Lord Riddle began to rise; he found his place in this world and Dumbledore could see what he wanted to do, see the path he would take. The change and reform he wanted to bring and he detested it. It went against many of Dumbledor’s own beliefs, so he began to twist, and manipulate events so that by the time Lord Riddle was of age and able to do something, the world was against him and they and Dumbledore had him painted as a Dark Lord. 

It was Dumbledore who gave him that name because of a confrontation they had. Lord Riddle told him that Dumbledore would be the death of the wizarding community and Dumbledore taunted him. Said that he would only be able to flee from him, that Lord Riddle would never be victorious against him.”

As Dolohov spoke, Harry could see it, see the truth of his words. Saw how the Minister wrote letters to Dumbledore daily, how the Prophet venerated him for speaking the truth all along. He felt sick. 

“How did my mum find out, what could she have possibly found that showed her all this?”

Dolohov faltered, and Harry saw him shift his stance, “It’s not my place to tell you.”

“Why not?”

Dolohov shook his head, “I can’t-”

“TELL ME,” Harry demanded. “Tell me, or I walk away right now.”

He grabbed the hem of his cloak, ready to close it up if he needed to escape. 

“Lord Riddle had a daughter,” Dolohov said quickly, and Harry stilled, “She was born without magic, so he sent her into the muggle world.” 

Harry furrowed his brow, “What does that have to do with anything?”

Dolohov swallowed, “He named her Rose and gave her to a muggle friend he had grown up with, Dennis Bishop. Later, Rose married another Muggle. His name was Harold Evans.” 

Harry felt his jaw drop. Those were the names of his grandparents. 

He dropped to his knees, a sudden pressure in his head as a memory he thought he had known, burst forth, like a dam in his mind had broken. As if it had been trapped by something that no longer existed. 

He saw his mother, between the bars of his crib, standing in front of him with her arms outstretched.

“No! You can’t have Harry!”

A flash of green light enveloped her and she fell. Harry looked up to see an aging Dumbledore, resplendent in burgundy robes holding his wand aloft. He stepped over Lily’s prone form, just as the window to Harry’s room broke inwards, the glass shattering into fine pieces. It fell like glitter as a black-robed figure entered the room. 

Dumbledore spun as the figure quickly looked around. Harry watched as the figure drew back his hood to reveal an older version of Tom Riddle. 

“Get away from my great-grandson.”

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder gently shook him back to awareness. A worried voice calling his name. 

He looked up to see Dolohov down on one knee in front of him, “Are you alright?”

Harry swallowed hard as he pushed himself to his feet.  

“Just…” he cleared his throat, “just a memory.”

Dolohov moved toward him again and handed back his wand. Harry took it numbly.

“Please, Harry. You have to trust me. Trust me, and let me take you to Lord Riddle. He will be able to give you the answers you need.”

Harry looked at the offered hand. It was huge and covered in tattoos. He wondered how much skin those tattoos covered, a glance at the hint of exposed neck showed him probably a lot. He looked back up into Dolohov’s eyes and for a reason he couldn’t grasp at that very moment, he trusted him. Trusted him more than he had ever trusted Dumbledore.

Harry took the hand and in the next moment felt the familiar pull of side-along apparition.

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Antonin ~*~*~*~*~

The muscles under the tattoo-covered skin flexed the longer Harry traced the pattern, slowly coming to life. He could tell the moment his lover awoke as he sucked in a breath. Stretching and yawning, he finally rolled over and bleary eyes greeted Harry.

The same eyes he had looked into five years ago and had instantly trusted. A trust that had never been broken and had only intensified over the years to come.

“Morning,” Antonin rasped out, winding one of his strong arms around Harry’s slender form. 

He would never grow tired of how much he loved what a bear of a man Antonin was and how small he was in comparison, though Harry was no lightweight either. But in Antonin’s arms? He certainly felt like one.

But he also felt safe and taken care of and he loved that feeling.

“Good morning,” he replied, leaning down to press a kiss against soft lips. “Happy Christmas.”

“Mhhhhh,” was Antonin’s only reply; clearly, his lover was not fully awake yet. Antonin hated early mornings and Harry always found that rather adorable.

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Antonin ~*~*~*~*~

“Are we really doing this?” Ron asked as Harry prodded the knot at the base of the Whomping Willow. 

“You can’t still have reservations!” hissed Hermione as she glanced back toward the school. The sun had barely begun to rise and the grounds still held that spooky twilight effect. 

“Excuse me for not being immediately comfortable with the idea of going to meet the Dark Lord for a cuppa and a plate of biscuits!” Ron shot back. 

“Guys!” Harry cut in before they could continue, gesturing to the frozen tree.

Quickly, the three of them made a break for it and just as Ron entered behind Harry and Hermione, the tree started to creak, signalling that whatever charm that froze it had worn off. 

“Ron…” Harry began now that they were in the safety of the tunnel. 

Ron held up a hand to ward off anything Harry might say, “No, look, mate, I’m with you. It’s just- why’s all the bloody weird shit happen to you?” 

Harry smiled grimly, “I think we know the answer to that now.” 

“Dumbledore, right. Merlin, that’s fucked up.”

“Ronald! Language!” Hermione chastised, emphasising her point with a backhand to his stomach. 

“Come on, you two,” Harry said, shaking his head at his friends’ familiar byplay. 

He was so glad that they had worked past their differences. To think that it had taken a lecture from Voldemort on the power of friendship to get him to approach them… Well, Harry was still wrapping his head around a lot of things. 

“So how are we getting there?” Ron asked after they had been walking for a little while. 

“Portkey,” Harry replied. “Antonin’s meeting us.”

“Ooohh… it’s Antonin now, is it?” Hermione teased. 

“Shut up,” Harry mumbled, thankful the tunnel was dark and Hermione wouldn’t be able to tell he was blushing. From her sudden gleeful cackle, Harry concluded that perhaps she didn’t need to see him, that she knew him well enough to know, even in the dark. 

“It was the tattoo’s, wasn’t it?” Hermione asked, “I bet it was the tattoos. I wonder how much of his body they cover…”

“HERMIONE!” Ron exclaimed.

“What? I’m not allowed to have a kink?” 

“That’s… That’s not the point! That’s completely beside the point!”

“I’ll have you know, Ronald Weasley, that I have a kink! Many kinks, in fact!”

“Oh my god,” Harry said under his breath. 

“What was that, Harry Potter?” demanded Hermione.

“Nothing! We’re here!” Harry said quickly. 

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Ron muttered gratefully. 

They scrambled up the small slope, and as Harry stood in the main room, he saw Antonin waiting for them. 

He had to suck in a breath at the sight of Antonin in a tight white v-neck shirt, and a large fur-lined leather jacket. He felt Hermione’s hand on his shoulder and her curls brushed his face as she whispered to him. 

“Breathe, Harry.”

He scowled at her and made his way across the room. 

“Er, good morning.”

“This isn’t morning,” Antonin all but growled, nodding slightly in Ron and Hermione’s direction as they neared. “This is an ungodly hour of the day to be awake.”

Harry laughed, “You’re grumpy in the mornings,” he said delightedly, feeling a small sense of pleasure at learning something personal about the man he had been getting to know.

Antonin grunted in reply, “And you’re entirely too cheerful. Here.”

He held out a length of frayed rope and Harry took one end without hesitation, looking expectantly at the two people who had followed him through the tunnel.

“Still weird,” Ron muttered, as he grabbed the rope, “Alright. Let’s go then.”

Thankfully, Antonin had waited for Hermione to grab the rope before he said the activation password. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Antonin ~*~*~*~*~

“Do you want to get up?” Harry asked.

Antonin grunted softly into Harry’s neck for an answer, clearly still unable to form words. Luckily, Harry had plenty of experience from the past few years and knew exactly how to make it all the better for him.

It started with tracing his fingertips over all those beautiful tattoos on Antonin’s shoulders, pulling a satisfied hum as he slowly trailed his fingers over all that hard muscle. As he saw the little smile begin on Antonin’s lips, Harry leaned in for another kiss, then slowly, he started his descent. Lips gently dragging down Antonin’s throat and to his collarbone, tongue trailing along his pecs, following his fingers on their route along the tattoos that covered his entire body.

Antonin’s happy humming was accompanied by his arm flexing, pulling Harry even closer, pressing their bodies together, pressing Harry’s morning wood into Antonin’s hips - though neither of them was about to complain about that.

Still, Harry did not derail from his path his lips were mapping out. Slipping from Antonin’s hold as he laved over those damn perfect abs. Merlin, he loved all these tattoos. He could never tire repainting them with his fingers, his lips, his tongue. Especially not when every nipkisslicksuck pulled such delicious noises of desire from his lover.

However, he did admit - if only to himself - that he always grew impatient the further down he wandered. Usually, by the time he reached Antonin’s hips. Because if there was anything better than tracing those tattoos with his lips, following those dark lines across that glorious body, it was closing them around that gorgeous cock.

The moment Harry went down on him, one of Antonin’s hands sunk into his hair, gripping tightly and just this side of painful. Exactly how he loved it.

It wasn’t long, however, until he felt a hand on his face again, pulling and urging him to look up. Glancing up from beneath his lashes, he saw the telltale hunger in his lover’s eyes and, knowing what he wanted, Harry shifted and moved around without letting Antonin’s cock slip from his mouth.

Large hands on his ass pulled him to where Antonin wanted him and the moment he felt that talented tongue against his hole, Harry had to let go of that gorgeous cock after all. Just for a moment, just long enough to suck in a harsh lungful of air and let out a sinful, dirty moan as he pressed his face into the crook of his lover’s tattooed groin. 

Merlin, he loved getting rimmed and Antonin knew that. Knew his body better than anyone, Harry suspected even better than himself.

Once he had his bearings again, Harry leant back down, sucking Antonin’s cock with everything he had. Saliva spilled from between his lips and Harry gave him the sloppiest blowjob he could remember giving him before, the tongue up his ass spurring him on.

It was soon replaced by two slicked up fingers, then three, working him open in such a way that Harry lost all coherent thought and rendering him a begging mess. Completely unable to continue the job he had started.

He was half-delirious by the time Antonin maneuvered his body around again, only really gaining his coherency when he was finally where Antonin wanted him to be. Where Harry wanted to be; straddled over Antonin’s hips. 

Opened his eyes as Antonin placed Harry’s hands on the tattooed chest he loved so much and meeting warm, honeyed eyes; he slowly sank onto the thick cock beneath him. Revelling in the moment, in the feel of his lover, as he was stretched further still. 

It was with a small gasp that Harry took the entire length of his lover and with a strangled moan, he began to rock slightly to get a feel for it. Antonin’s hands clenched around his hips, and Harry began to move. Slowly at first as he built to a rhythm they were both fond of.

“Fuck, Harry,” Antonin groaned as Harry twisted his hips. 

Harry only groaned in answer as Antonin’s cock rubbed against his prostate. 

He slid his hands up Antonin’s body, up along the tattoo’s covering his neck until he buried them in the long locks of his hair. His body lowered and stretched behind his wandering hands and leaning down those last few inches; Harry captured Antonin’s lips in a thorough and tongue-filled dirty kiss. 

He rocked his hips back as Antonin brought his knees up. Grasping at Harry’s arse as he began to thrust up into his body. The changed angle rubbed firmly against his prostate and Harry broke the kiss to breathe. Antonin nipped at his ear as he buried his face in Antonin’s neck. 

Harry breathed his name as Antonin rolled them over, and lay Harry back against the plush pillows of their bed. Bracketing Harry in with his arms, and giving him a good view down his body. Harry’s eyes trailed over the tattoo’s, coming to rest on the one above his heart, the one that had been a blank space, unmarked until he had filled it with Harry’s name. Harry felt that same extra hard heartbeat that he had the first time he had seen it. He smiled, the same as he had done then, up into Antonin’s eyes, smoothing back some of the hair that hung down from his lover’s face.

Antonin smiled back, the sweet one that started in one corner of his mouth before it spread to light up his whole face. The smile he wore, only when he was looking at Harry. 

“Adore you,” he mouthed, and Harry hummed. 

Stretching up to meet him in a kiss as Antonin started to move. His thrusts firm, and strong, and oh so perfect. Harry broke the kiss as the little noises he was making in the back of his throat grew. Sensing what he needed, Antonin dragged a hand down Harry’s body to his cock. Neglected until this moment, it jumped as he wrapped his hand around it and began to pump in time with his thrusts. 

Antonin covered Harry’s mouth with his own once more and swallowed the gasp Harry let out, his release spilling out of him in a rush. 

Harry kept his legs wrapped around Antonin’s waist as he thrust, two, three, four more times and came with his own low groan. 

He collapsed on top of Harry, and Harry stroked his hands through Antonin’s hair for a few moments before he started pushing at his shoulder. 

Antonin rolled of him with a hum, and Harry wrinkled his nose as he pulled out. His spent and sticky cock was pressing against his leg. 

“Definitely a good morning,” Antonin murmured.

Harry grinned, “you say that every morning.” 

Antonin reached out for him again and pulled him flush against his body, arms and legs entwined. 

“That’s because every morning, I wake up with you.” 

“Sap.” 

Antonin hummed and nuzzled the spot under Harry’s ear. 

Harry traced a fingertip over his name tattooed on Antonin’s chest. 

“You’re completely covered in these.”

Antonin hummed and nipped at his ear lobe. 

“You ever thought about getting rid of some?”

Antonin pulled back, a frown on his face, “I thought you liked my tattoo’s.” 

“Oh, I do,” Harry rushed to reassure him, “I absolutely do. I was just thinking, if you know, you ever wanted to add more, how would you do it?” 

Antonin lay his head down on the pillow, “depends on what I wanted. If I wanted to change a piece completely, I could have something erased, but I don’t think I’d ever want that, I’ve had these pieces for so long. I designed them this way, so they’re a part of me.”

“A very spectacular part,” Harry said, interrupting him.

Antonin smirked but continued, “I could change up the design of some of them with a particular spell, it turns your wand into a sort of reverse quill. Sucks the ink out of wherever it touches.”

Harry hummed, his finger still tracing over his name. 

“So... is that what you would do for kids names? That quill spell?” 

“Yeah, in these pieces,” Antonin said, touching the completely inked areas by his neck, before looking at Harry quizzically, “Why’s that?” 

Harry quirked one side of his mouth, “Well, you might need to make an appointment with your guy, in about six or seven months.”

“An appointment? But why…” Antonin’s eyes widened, “you… you’re… we’re having a baby?” He asked in a hushed voice. 

“Yeah, Happy Christmas?” Harry said with a sheepish grin. 

Antonin didn’t answer as he shifted his head forward, his lips capturing Harry’s in a gentle but consuming kiss. A soft kiss, much like the first one they had shared. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Antonin ~*~*~*~*~

The connection was severed, and Harry lurched to his feet. Tears sprang unbidden to his eyes. It was Halloween, and he had just partaken in the ‘dicere mortuum tumm’ ritual - or literally, ‘speak to your dead’. It was the first time he had ever done so, as the ritual was labelled Dark magic. But how could there be anything Dark about being able to speak to your loved ones?

“Are you alright?” came a deep, concerned voice.

Harry looked up to see warm dark eyes, in a handsome face looking over him, worry lurking there. Tom Riddle’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Harry swallowed hard at the comforting gesture.

He had just seen his parents, had just spoken with them. Heard it first hand that they loved him. That they were proud of him. 

He nodded, his voice still caught in his throat. 

“I’m alright, I just- I just need some time alone.”

“I understand, I felt the same way the first time I performed this ritual. I’ll be here if you want to talk after.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, the words quiet in the apple-scented air around them. 

With another squeeze to his shoulder, Tom let him go, and Harry took off, deeper into the gardens. Entering the maze kept on the vast grounds, he allowed his feet to take him to his favourite spot within the maze. 

It wasn’t the centre like most would think, but rather it was one of the dead ends. Harry ducked through the hanging jasmine that covered the archway and sat on the cushioned lounge situated there for just that purpose. There was a small waterfall that burbled quietly in the space and Harry smiled at the two fairies who were playing leapfrog on the lilypads. One of them waved in his direction - he came here quite often - before it missed its step and fell into the water. 

Harry chuckled as it dragged itself back onto a lilypad and endured the scoldings from its friend. 

He let out a sigh and fell against the couch, letting his head fall onto the back. He stared up at the stars, thinking about all the things that had come to pass over the last year. He was seventeen now. Dumbledore’s machinations had been brought to the public eye and he was serving the rest of his life in Azkaban. 

Harry was safe. His friends and loved ones were safe. And he now had some weird sort of pseudo-grandparent relationship with Tom Riddle. It was still taking some getting used to. But they were making progress every day. 

Time passed as he sat there, watching the stars and assimilating the night’s experience. It had been something extraordinary to sit there and converse with his parents’ spirits, to talk to them, to know them. To be able to do it every year…

He heard a rustle nearby and he opened his eyes to see Antonin enter his little retreat. 

“You’ve been out here for a long time. Is everything alright?”

Harry nodded, and Antonin came to sit by him. 

“Just… heavy,” Harry said after a moment. 

Antonin hummed and reached out to put his hand on the back of Harry’s neck, providing a grounding presence. 

Harry leant into the gesture for a moment before clearing his throat and straightening up. “Um, is someone looking for me? Did they send you to find me?”

Antonin shook his head, “Just me.”

“Oh.” 

Harry glanced toward him briefly, his eyes darting away as he saw Antonin looking at him intently. He felt the heat burning his cheeks as he struggled to find something to say. The flowers in this area of the maze were glistening in the moonlight; Harry suspected the fairies were responsible. And… was there music playing somewhere?

“Erm…”

“Harry,” Antonin whispered, his thumb brushing over Harry’s neck softly. 

His voice drew Harry’s gaze and their eyes locked. Harry could hardly focus on his surroundings as captured as he was by Antonin’s gaze. He vaguely heard a chorus of ‘Sha la la’, but it barely registered as he watched Antonin shift closer. His leg pressed against Harry’s as he leant across the distance between them. 

A whisper of ‘kiss the boy’ floated on the air, and Harry distantly saw a fairy flutter past his vision. 

Leaning in himself, he gasped lightly as their lips brushed. Antonin moved slowly, dragging his lips softly against Harry’s before he settled, lingering as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and he sank into the kiss. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Antonin ~*~*~*~*~

Harry hummed as Antonin pulled back. Love and awe bright in his eyes. 

“Merlin, you’re wonderful. I love you so much.”

Harry couldn’t stop the happy smile that spread across his face, even if he wanted to. 

“I love you too,” he said, leaning in for another kiss. 

~ fin ~