Chapter 20 – Bad Intentions
The foreboding Harry felt standing before the Tonks tightened his chest, and it was an effort to not crush Teddy to him as instead, he lowered his son to the ground. They walked into that home hand and hand.
Ted unlocked the door and Harry didn't hear what the other wizard said as they entered the threshold.
The sight of Andromeda stole his breath away, he watched her brown eyes light up on seeing Ted and a certain level devious playfulness warmed her gaze as she turned to Harry. But her animated greeting meant nothing to him as he relived finding her those years ago.
Those brown eyes gazing blankly into the unseen, her limp and sprawled on the floor, her dark hair spread around her in an almost artful manner.
Her beauty had made a mockery of life.
He had tried to shake her awake, despite knowing that she beyond reach.
The world had fallen in around him.
The war had ended, he wasn't supposed to lose anyone else.
Hadn't he lost enough already?
Everyone had wanted a piece of him, cutting slices of him off for political support or personal consolations. Everyone seemed to be clamouring for his thoughts, his leadership, even as they ignored the one thing he actively spoke out against as the public's grief and fear turned to hatred.
Don't discriminate against the nonhumans, don't blame them for your problems.
And every witch and wizard ignored him. Nonhuman population taking the brunt of the fallout of the war, and as the situation degraded, the wizarding world spiralling into disorder after the second defeat of Voldemort, Harry had turned his back on them.
He had given the wizarding world everything, leaving nothing for himself. So Harry had chosen his godson. Chosen Teddy and Andromeda, above all others. He had chosen to start a family and build a life, a safe haven for another orphan of a pointless war.
Harry had been seventeen going on eighteen, he had no childhood worth imitating. To be a father, he knew only what not to do, but he had thought that with Andromeda's help, with her guidance, Teddy would be okay.
Her death had been Harry's breaking point. The one death too many, shattering any delusion he had that safety and home were possible for him.
Staring at Andromeda's dead body, Harry understood, finally, that hope was a bastard, that family was a lie, and magic…
Magic was a curse.
He should just give up, give up pretending-
Teddy had begun crying then interrupting Harry's despair.
How was he supposed to take care of a baby on his own? How could he raise a child on his own?
He supposed he didn't have to be on his alone… He had broken up with Ginny, but the Weasleys would still help him and there were others…
The Weasleys and everyone else who said he should leave Mrs. Tonks to her own devices, and who said over and over again that he was too young to be a father.
Harry's heart hardened against them all.
Screw the wizarding world, screw the community.
Maybe he would fail.
Probably he would fail, but he would try damnit.
No matter what happened, Teddy would grow up knowing he was loved.
He wouldn't abandon him, the world, wizarding or otherwise, could burn for all he cared.
Harry would do whatever it took, would always protect his son, and no matter what shit life threw at them, Teddy would always come first.
And it was Teddy, Teddy in the present, who jerked Harry away from his waking nightmare as he pulled from Harry's hand and ran, arms held wide as little Nymphadora did the same.
They met in the centre of the room, same age, same size, a rainbow of colours shifting between them like a confused chameleon trying to match artificial polka dots, and they nearly hugged the life from one another.
It was heartbreakingly adorable.
Harry felt his heart swell, and his protective instincts expanding to include the little girl who leaned back only enough to meet Teddy's gaze as she began to talk in such a fast stream of words that it was hard to follow.
Teddy's smile, the sheer openness and lack of wariness that Teddy had, at least in some degree, for all others, made Harry think that though Nymphadora may have been a fine mother had she been given the chance, perhaps, she was more suited to being a sister.
A best friend.
"Those two are going to be the death of us," Andromeda said.
Harry flinched, but masked it with a smile, "They are certainly going to be trouble."
A look of horror crossed her expression, but whatever she was going to say was lost as Narcissa emerged from the kitchen.
Only dimly did Harry register Bellatrix and Kingsley behind her.
He probably shouldn't have found Narcissa's cold arrogance attractive. But her self-awareness, her own knowledge of how stunning she was, it made him happy.
It made him want to tease her, made him want to adore her, showing her just how much he agreed that she had every damnable right to be that arrogant.
As her sure steps crossed the space between them, he saw in her blue-grey eyes that she saw him, not just his surface, but the overprotective, hot mess underneath. And she approached him with absolutely no fear, and with every expectation that she could match him, fault for fault, strength for strength.
Kissing her wasn't really a choice, it was as instinctive as breathing.
Though it wasn't a long kiss, there were children in the room after all, it wasn't exactly chaste either. Harry hugged her as their lips parted, he held on a moment longer before releasing her to greet Kingsley and Bella.
They were both smiling at him.
Bella's smile was wicked, as if she knew all their darkest secrets, all their whispered words, while Kingsley's was more a shared smile along the lines of -we're so fucked because we are in a relationship with the Sisters Black.
A glance at Ted said the same.
The three of them were in deep, and they were okay with that.
It was hard to tell who was crazier, the Blacks or the three them for falling in love with the Black Sisters.
"Harry," Narcissa said, her hand pleasantly, possessively laid on his arm, "this is Andromeda, my second elder sister. Dromeda this is Henry Peverell."
"It is pleasure to finally meet you," she said, her eyes fire to Narcissa's ice.
"The pleasure is mine," Harry said, meaning it, despite the memories, it was a gift to see her alive again, alive with her heart and family intact.
Kingsley stepped forward hand outstretched, "And I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mr. Peverell. I've heard a lot about you."
Harry reached out his hand, but Bella stepped between them, a whirlwind of energy, grabbing his newly scared hand, she asked, "What is this?"
"It was a danger noodle," Teddy told her from where Nymphadora was still chastizing her father for not believing in 'the very, very, real metemorphmago-boy that was just like her, but a boy, not a girl, a boy, metemorphmag-o-boy.'
Bella glared at him, then reached for her Narcissa's hand, holding both their hands together side by side showing off the patterned effect. Of his scars, this one looked the most like a purposeful tattoo.
"Did you get this before fucking him or after?"
Harry wasn't aware he could still blush, but apparently, Bellatrix Black had his ticket. Harry, Kingsley, and Ted all looked at the two little ones who apparently hadn't heard anything wrong.
Narcissa yanked her hand away and pulled his from her sister's grip.
Andromeda stepped closer, "These marks were created by something magical?"
"A serpentine curse that was meant to kill him," Narcissa said, taking a step in front of him.
"The Dark Arts," Andromeda said drily, "very traditional, at least for our family. That it took the form a snake would make our uncle and grandfather happy."
Harry frowned, "Traditional? Traditional what?" From the look on Andromeda's, Bella's, and Kingsley's faces he was pretty sure he had missed something, something vital.
"Handfasting," Bella scoffed, "A traditional handfasting. You just can't do anything wrong, can you, Cissa? You consummated your relationship after being handfasted, didn't you?"
Harry's mind went blank.
Handfasted, did that mean…?
"I had the worst of intentions," Narcissa defended herself.
"At least you didn't have Father's approval," Andromeda threw in.
Narcissa leaned back into Harry, her silence all the answer her sisters needed.
"Father does approve of him," Andromeda stated, her voice drier than the Sahara. "He encouraged you to pursue the Peverell line."
"Little Cissy never could miss behave," Bella said, she sounded downright disgusted.
"I did have bad intentions," Narcissa pressed.
"I'm sorry," Harry interrupted, "are you saying that Tom Riddle married me to my lover?"
Bella giggled, "Lover, such a sexy way to address your wife."
"Tom Riddle was the one behind the attempt on your life?" Kingsley asked, the only person other than Ted who was maybe grasping the real issues here.
Harry nodded.
"Then yes," Bella sang, "Voldemort married you off to a Black."
Harry had been conflicted about a number of things in his life, but at that moment, he couldn't recall anything that could have compared.
"Are you angry?" Narcissa asked, turning to face him. He hardly noticed how expressive she was being with him, until her expression closed into harsh and unreadable beauty.
"At Tom?" he asked, "Almost always. At being married…" again. He ran a hand over his hair, "I would have liked to get to know you better. Maybe been given a chance to actually propose."
He hadn't proposed to Naomi either.
It was just his luck that his first marriage was completing paperwork in a parker lot while his bride went through contractions and his second marriage would be completed, without paperwork, without even his awareness of the legal ramifications, he would be married by his worst enemy to his childhood rival's mother by way of a murderous snake.
Yep, definitely traditional.
"Harry?" Narcissa asked.
He refocused on her, "Handfasting is legally binding in the magical world, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm in no rush to get a divorce."
Her eyes were glacial, "But you do want a divorce?"
He cupped her jaw, running his thumb along her cheek, "Do you want a divorce, Mrs. Peverell?"
He felt the shudder run up her spine, but her gaze never wavered, "No."
"Good," he said and kissed her.
Kissed her in front of their family as he would have if they were standing on an altar.
And she kissed him back with surety, melting into him.
Harry's life had been too hard for too long, he knew better than to throw away love where it was given.
Even if it had been Tom fucking Marvolo Riddle who had been the go between.
At the very least, Harry knew that Tom had intended his death and that by finding happiness, that by continuing to live long and prosper, simply made their victory all the sweeter.