Chapter Text
"Ginny!" Harry shouted out, excited when the beautiful, redhaired yound lady turned around and paused, clearly waiting for Harry to catch up to her. "Glad I caught you before you left. I don't want to hold you up though, so...mind if I escort you and we can talk on the way?"
Ginny blushed and shyly ducked her head. Harry chuckled softly and, reaching out, casually snagged one of Ginny's soft, daintly hands with one of his own, larger hands. Giving a gentle, loving smile to the top of the bowed head, Harry lightly sqeezed on the hand held so carefully within his own.
"Well then, let's get moving, shall we?" Harry wisely held in the snickers that wanted to escape him as Ginny blushed even brighter and almost bolted forward, even as she tightened her grip on Harry's hand.
Nothing was said for some time as the two of them made their way forward, their fingers slowly entwining and their steps bringing them close enough to casually brush up against one another. Harry was the one who decided to break the comfortable silence.
"Listen Gin. I know I'm not the best with words, but this last year...You've really been there for me and it has really meant everything to me. I've always loved your family. Molly and Arthur have treated just like a son, and Bill, Charlie, Fred and George, and of course Ron, have made it more then clear that I should consider myself to be one of their brothers. Heck, even Percy has said that you could do worse, which coming from him is high praise indeed," Harry had stopped walking at this point. Turning slightly, Harry faced Ginny and placed his hands securely on her shoulders, ensuring that she was facing towards Harry.
Harry freed her shoulders and used one hand to gently raise her chin until they were staring into each other's eyes. With the other hand, Harry smoothly pushed a wayward strand the color of bright firelight back behind an elfin pointed ear. Gathering a deep breath along with his courage, Harry withdrew his hands and dropped to one knee. Fumbling in his pocket briefly, Harry pulled a small jeweler's box out. Holding it up, Harry flipped the top open to reveal a delicate band made of shining sliver-hued metal topped with a large, faceted gem of a deep, saturated green that sparkled with elusive hints of blue. On either side of the large gem were clear gems which were half the size of the center stone.
Ginny gasped, tears springing into her clear, sky-blue eyes. One hand rose to cover her pink, cupid bow lips while the other reached out towards the small box and its treasure, neither person noticing the definite shaking on the out reaching limb.
"My love, my firey one, my Ginny. You mean so much to me: the world, the heavens, magic itself, and so very much more beyond. Will you do me the infinite honor and joy of giving me your hand in marriage?" Harry asked with his heart in his throat.
Ginny could only nod frantically, too overcome with shock to actually bring herself to speak any words of acceptance. Harry lifted the priceless ring from the box and carefull slid the ring onto the delicate fingers of his love. Laughing as his relief washed over him, Harry surged upwards and caught Ginny tightly in his arms. In a spirit of exuberance, Harry began to spin his slight fiancee around; however, as the reality of having his love held tight within his arms finally registered itself within his brain, as well as the fact that she had agreed to become his bride, Harry felt other emotions than joy and relief. Slowly stopping his spinning, Harry came to rest with Ginny held tightly within his arms and pressing her curvy figure against his own lithe body. Groaning in desire, Harry bent down and caught her lips with his own. He didn't even attempt to keep the meeting of lips chaste, moaning at her taste as he harshly thrust his tongue into her mouth in a crude imitation of what they would be doing later with other body parts as they celebrated the new step in their relationship.
Harry shot up in bed, ignoring the bulge that was his two month pregnant stomach. Panting harshly and gulping convulsively, he desperately attempted to control the raging nausea that was trying to take him over. Charles had warned him during the last pregnancy that vivid dreaming was a common complaint during most pregnancies, but that was not like anything that he had been even remotely expecting. What a nightmare!
Three months
"Tom?" Harry quietly asked before taking up another dainty bite of his grapefruit salad.
Tom raised his bleary eyes from the delicate soufle his elves had prepared for his breakfast and moved them onto his consort. Realising that the boy had asked him something, Tom finally managed to line up enough brain waves to at least grunt at the other male and let him know that Tom was giving some attempt at listening. Tom knew he wasn't a morning person at the best of times, but he had had way to much alcohol to drink last night.
Lucius and Narcissa had hosted a massive dinner and ball in celebration of their son and heir, Draco, finally signing a marriage contract. And while a joining with the Weasley clan was far from Lucius' ideal, the ever sneaky twins had maneuvered the very experienced politician into allowing such a contract. When pressed by Tom, the elder blond male had relunctantly admitted that the demonic duo had somehow tracked down the cause of the Malfoy/Weasley feud, which was a contract that one of the Prewett females had conned her obsession into signing.
Fortunately for that Malfoy ancestor, the chit hadn't been well versed in writing binding contracts which allowed him to escape the entrapment with no penalties. Unfortunately for the current Malfoy Lord, the Weasley's had inherited the still unfulfilled contract via marriage into the Prewett family and the twins managed to find the Prewett's copy of the blasted thing, thus forcing the current Lord into honoring the age old thing that ensured that at some point in time, the Malfoys would have to marry the Prewetts.
Draco had been almost unbearably smug about the whole thing. His aura of smug satisfaction only increasing every time he was around his father, who had about had a heart attack when Draco had first strolled into Luc's private study and announced the engagement without a bit of warning, before just as casually leaving the room once again.
Narcissa was thrilled about the whole thing as the Weasley and Prewett families were both know for their near-legendary fertility. The well-bred lady had been seen cooing over various catalogs from numerous baby stores, both from local stores and the much more expensive and exclusive ones over on the continent. Tom was fairly certain that Narcissa had already started decorating a nursery.
Needless to say, the party the two had hosted had been the event of the season for those fortunate enough to have been invited. And for those of closer connections to the family, a much smaller and more private affair had occured later once the crowds had left for home.
Thus resulting in much too little sleep and far too much alcohol for the Dark Lord. Said Dark Lord gave his head a sudden shake in an attempt to focus properly on his consort who obviously had wanted to talk to him, promptly causing him to loose his balance and face plant into one of his favorite breakfast dishes.
Harry just let out a put-upon sounding sigh and continued eating. He could always ask Tom later about the upcoming Wizengamot sessions. When the man was actually awake maybe.
Four months
Fenrir gave a nervous glance around the darkened kitchen. It shouldn't have had to come down to this, but what else was a werewolf supposed to do around that time of the month. If he didn't have the blood and flesh he was craving soon, he just knew that he would do something to get into massive trouble. Which would get back to Tom, as it always did. And that was not something Fenrir wanted to have happen again as the last time that had occured, the screams and wails had injured his ears and upset his inner wolf immensely.
Looking around the room one more time, and giving a good, harsh sniff or two for insurance, Fenrir drew himself up in an attempt to resemble the fearsome Alpha that he knew he was. Striding boldly forward, he made his way to the cold cupboard were the fresh game was stored. Flinging the door open, Fenrir paused for a moment as his mouth watered at the sights and smells of the fresh game that had been so lately denied him. He reached in and reverently trailed a hand down the side of the nearest venison haunch, before taking the meat out. Spinning around after quickly shutting the cupboard door, Fenrir gently set the meat down on the nearest countertop.
Gazing lovingly down at the tender morsal, Fenrir was almost in tears at the sight before him. It had been so long. Constantly swallowing the excess saliva he was producing, Fenrir bent over to tear off his first bite. Just when he was about to sink his teeth into the bloody haunch, the lights in the room flickered on.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Fenrir whimpered at the punishing volume. Damn it, but he had been so close! Looking up slightly with an apologectic expression clearly on his face, Fenrir just managed to restrain the whince that wanted to let itself be known as he took in the harsh visage topped with flashing emerald eyes and a wild mop of raven-black hair.
He couldn't wait for Harry's complete meat aversion to stop.
Five months
Tom didn't know why, but at random times throughout the day, a vague sense of alarm would send shivers racing up his spine. It was an annoying distraction in a day otherwise filled with the slightly boring, yet still pleasently relaxing and non-stressfull, pastimes that he hadn't been able to do in so long. Really, a day filled with puttering through dusty, old tomes in search of odd bits of forgotten lore and magical knowledge wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but Tom had always found the past time to be something he deeply enjoyed.
It was as the day came to its inevitable conclusion that Tom relunctantly withdrew himself from the deepest depths of the library and made his way back to his office to breifly get a feel for the amount of paperwork that he would have to do for taking his one day off in months. Just outside of his door, yet another shiver of apprehension made its way down his body. Choosing to just write it off as a bit of a chilly draft, Tom pressed his finger against the light plate on the wall, causing all of the gas lights in the room to ignite and reveal an extremely pissed off looking Harry Potter sitting in his desk chair.
"And just what do you think you're doing?" Harry queried, his voice low and vicious sounding as he glared at Tom. "I have been waiting here for you to arrive all bloody day. How dare you not be here when I was! I wanted sex and you were supposed to know that!"
Great. They had reached the 'unreasonable demands' stage of the pregnancy.
What fun.
Six months
*THUMP*
Tom's head made a solid hit to the desk below without him even attempting to slow it down or exert any other form of control over it. He simply could not believe it.
The merfolk had somehow heard about his special arrangement with the centaurs and the vampires, and what had been a treaty that was only a day away from being signed and filed away as a legal document, was now withdrawn while the merfolk negotiators added a few extra clauses to it.
Damn it! He had been so close!
Seven months
"Here you bees, Master Consort! One root beer float withs vanillia icees cream and carmeled drizzly bitsies!"
Harry pouted at the enthusiastic house elf, but his slight dissatisfaction didn't delay his hand any in the speed in which it shot out and claimed his prize. Turning his body just a bit, Harry focused his pout on Tom who was ready quietly on the bed next to him.
"You know, Tom. I'm pretty sure that there is a rule written down somewhere that states that the husband is the one that is supposed to go out and find the craved for, hard to find, food items. Not send his incredibly eager to please servants to speak to snarky Potion Masters that happen to know their way around the Muggle world and can direct said servants to all night convenience marts that would stock the looked for items."
Tom didn't acknowledge Harry's accusation in any other way than a slight smirk as he turned the next page over.
Eight months
"I am not going out like this! I look like a blimp! I look like I ate King Kong! There is nothing that you can do that would make me leave the safety and privacy of the keep."
Tom merely kept the slight smile on his lips that had been there for the last twenty minutes as he watched his consort rant and rave. Watching his very pregnant bonded was always good for a mood lift he had found. It was only eight months into the centaur pregnancy, with three months yet to go, and Harry looked like he was expecting a set of full term triplets to pop out of his stomach any day now. And with Harry's habit of pacing for long lengths of time while agitated, Tom was able to enjoy watching the way Harry waddled until he felt it was time to calm the boy down.
Which it was probably time to do as the Healer had warned him to keep Harry from getting too upset. Ah well. He could always get Harry to accompany him on a walk about the gardens later as Charles had said that fresh air and exercise was important. Now he just had to come up with several excuses for hanging back from time to time so that he could see Harry waddling better, since it was rather difficult to see the phenomenon while walking side by side; although, it could certainly be felt as Harry swayed into him every other step.
"Harry," Tom calmly called out, easily breaking into the ranting and turning Harry's attention to him. "It will only be for a light lunch, the only people invited know about your pregnancy, both Fred and George Weasley will be attending as I know that you've been wanting to have a chance to speak to them, and, as a special treat, I have tasked my elves to provide dessert. I had heard of something called Rose Water ice cream and felt that it would be something that you would find immense enjoyment of as you have been craving flowers as well as sending out my elves to seek various ice cream treats at all hours of the day."
Harry looked stunned before an expression of bliss crossed over his face.
"Ice cream? And flowers? Okay, we can leave now."
Nine months
Harry read over the morning paper. While he still didn't like the Daily Prophet and really felt that it was more of a gossip column than a serious news service, it was the go to paper for the majority of the British wizarding world. Thus, if he wished to be informed of what the sheeple felt and thought, he would have to subject himself to the paper's version of the "truth".
Bugger.
At least the marriages, deaths, and births were all reported accurately, Harry thought as he turned to the birth announcement section. He loved reading about all of the new lives and sometimes found names that he recognized as his schoolmates came of age and had to comply with the heir and a spare legislation. Skimming over the section, Harry felt his jaw drop as he found a brief blurb listing the birth of Denebola Angharad Black, the first born child and daughter of Lord Sirius Orion Black and his bonded, Consort Charles Septimus Black nee Weasley.
Harry sat there in shock, letting his breakfast just sit there getting cooler as he tried to wrap his mind around the thought that his Godfather now had a daughter. And the more he thought about it, the less he was in shock and the more a sense of evil happiness spread through him. Sirius Black, known as the Gyffindor horn dog if his stories he had been told were correct, had had a daughter.
Harry snorted in laughter as he wondered if he could get the twins aid in making Sirius into a paranoid daddy, out to protect his darling daughter from the penises of the world.
Ten months
"Lord Slytherin, Consort Slytherin. Gringotts Bank welcomes you and thanks you for your prompt appearance to our summons. Please be seated, Lord Rangarok will be right in."
Tom ignored the goblin bowing his way out of the door and instead focused his attention on ensuring his extremely pregnant consort was safely and comfortably seated in one of the chairs placed before a massive desk, one that rivaled Tom's desk back at the Keep. Once his consort was settled, Tom took the seat just to the side of him, ignoring the tea service set on a chair side table for the moment. Looking about the room as Harry was also doing, Tom enjoyed the ages old tapestries depicting numerous goblins in various battles that hung on the stone walls and acted as both decoration, insulation, and a warning about the war readiness of the species.
It could only have been a handful of minutes later that Lord Rangarok, the Head of the bank, entered the room and sat himself behind the desk, interupting the two's perusal of the office. The goblin set several massive files on the desktop before him. Clearing his throat, he grab at the top most file and slid it across the desk towards Tom RIddle.
"You had asked us to audit the accounts which you have any connection to, several years ago. We had been hard at work doing such when you came into the legal guardianship over the person who is now your consort, Harry Riddle nee Potter: Lord Potter by Blood and Family, secondary heir of the Black family behind Denebola Angharad Black by virtue of Blood and request of the current Lord Black, Lord Peverell by Descent and Blood, and finally, Lord Gryffindor by Descent and Blood. The additional accounts added a great deal more time to our audits, which you are fully aware of as we have done as requested and sent you full updates at regular intervals as requested.
"Gringotts Bank is most pleased to inform you that our accounting had finally concluded and, except for some very minor accounting errors which were caused by hired wizards and not the goblin accountants or managers, the vaults came up free and clear of fraudulent transactions. Except," Lord Rangarok paused, looking both furious and slightly embarrassed. "The founder's vaults, of which you both own controlling rights over one apiece, have been steadily drained faster than what was allowed for by the contract between the founders who donated the monies, the goblins who agreed to manage the funds and seek out new investments, and the school's Headmasters who had control over the spending. The pace of the draining has accelerated in recent years as, because of politics, the goblin manageers have been removed and various wizards and witches have instead been placed as managers over the account. Said beings failed to adhere to the approved guidelines and never asked to see reciepts or budgets.
"After going over all of the expenditures from all four of the founder's vaults, it has been determined that the last several Headmasters have used the school vaults as a fund to sway various politicans towards projects and legislature that the Headmasters felt to be important at the time. Unfortunately, that has of necessity shorted the school of needed funds, as there was a maximum cap on withdrawals for the school year. You may think over what you wish to do, and if you wish to contact the heirs of the other two founders, Gringotts will happily pass along any correspondence or arrange for a conference room here at the bank for the four of you to meet, guaranteeing privacy and discretion for the event."
Lord Rangarok shuffled the folders around, pulling a different one to the top of the pile. Scowling briefly down at it, Rangarok lifted his head up and forced a more professional expression back onto his face.
"Unfortunately, while going over the Potter accounts, more serious problems were brought to light. Lord Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was given rights over the Potter Heir by an emergency session of the Wizengamot, held the very night that the current Lord's family was...disrupted, shall we say. In the same session, the assembly also voted to seal the Potter wills held on file within both the Ministry and here at Gringotts. Nothing could be done with them until the new guardian, and your current bondmate," Lord Rangarok gave a nod of the head to Tom, getting one in return. "asked us to do a full accounting of the vaults. A full accounting gives Gringotts the rights to unseal any documentation pertaining to a customer's vaults. Once unsealed the wills clearly listed several people that were to retain rights over the Potter heir. No where on the list of approved guardians were the names of Albus Dumbledore or Lady Potter's muggle relatives.
"Unfortunately, this has left Gringotts in a bit of a quandry. As your Wizangamot appointed guardian, Lord Dumbledore had full legal rights to your vault to see to your care and keeping, thus making the monthly stipend he had sent to the Dursley family perfectly legal. According to the wills, neither of those options were supposed to have occured. The only good item of news that I have to report about that arrangement is that Dumbledore never did more than what he had a legal, court appointed right to do and that the stipend was not overly generous and in fact was well in line with the stipend guidelines published by the Wizarding Orphan Services department. I must tell you that the stipend was not halted immendiately by Lord Sytherin's acquistion of Lord Potter's personage as it took some time to check the paperwork once ordered to do so, as well as the fact that Dumbledore failed to give due notification of his withdrawal as guardian, thus leading to some confusion here at Gringotts as to what was wanting to be done with the account."
Tom reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of the clenched fist resting on the arm of Harry's chair. They had not spoken much of their various' pasts, just enough to know that they both had similar upbringings, unwanted by those in whose care they had been placed, but it was enough for Tom to know that the current topic of information was very much unappreciated by his little consort. Giving a slight squeeze to the hand held within his own, Tom was able to get Harry to make eye contact, wordlessly asking if he wanted Tom to deal with it. Harry gave a curt nod ov the head before lowering his gaze back onto his swollen stomach once again. Tom, now knowing that he had Harry's blessing to do what ever he wanted, chose to speak up.
"If I may," Tom began. "While it may have been legal, and the fact that Dumbledore only used the correct guidelines to act is exceptable, it was never meant to have happened at all. Harry and I hold no fault to Gringotts over this as what they did was fully lawful to their knowledge. I, however, know for a fact that the money sent was never used to provide the care and education needed for the heir of several noble families. We would prefer to see that the Dursley family is prosecuted to the fullest extant of the law in order to recoup the monies given them, as well as seeking damages. Naturally, we expect Gringotts to receive 20% of the damages assigned for their time and services rendered for this action."
Lord Rangarok flashed a pointy smile then, some of the tension that he was obviously feeling visably leaving him at Tom's announcement.
"I do have some most enjoyable news that I would wish to share with you, Lord Slytherin and Consort, before it becomes a matter of public knowledge. It seems that Lord Dumbledore failed to note the full legal matters pertaining to the transfer of Lord Potter's care to that of the Lord Sytherin. The Lord Dumbledore entered our bank early in the day several days ago in the company of Mrs. Weasley and her daughter. He would not speak of his business to the tellers, insisting instead on having a private meeting with me, attended by the Weasley ladies accompanying him. While I would normally have never granted such a request to a personage whose account I was not in charge of, Lord Dumbledore is still the Headmaster of Hogwarts and does have a right to speak to me about the school vaults, even if any funding requests must be made through the appointed managers.
"Once in the room, the Headmaster made idle chitchat over tea, wasting valuable time and money before finally coming to the point. He had drawn up a marriage contract between the youngest Weasley child, Ginevra, and Harry Potter. He, acting as the legal guardian for the Potter heir as Harry hasn't yet come of age, had signed it, as well as Ginevra's mother, Madame Weasley, thus making it a fully active, binding agreement. Lord Dumbledore had brought it into the bank to file it according to custom and handed it over to myself to ensure that it was a valid, legal document. After looking over the contract with great care, I was quite happy to inform the trio that it was indeed a binding contract and asked when the happy event would occur.
"Mrs. Weasley informed me that the sooner the better, and then demanded that I arrange an escort down into the vaults so that the family rings could be sorted through and a set chosen. Also, I was to arrange a bottomless bag connected directly to the vaults so that they could at once go out and start paying for the needed weddings items: a hall to hold the ceremony in, a custom dress, flowers, a cake, and other such nonsense. When I informed them that they were speaking to the wrong Goblin as I had no right to access the vaults in question, the trio blew up at me. I waited them out and calmly informed them that as anxious as they were, no doubt, to see Ginevra happily wed, I had no rights to dabble in the Dumbledore acounts and that they should see to the correct account manager.
"I handed back the contract, ignored the sputtering idiots, and had them escorted from my office. But not before congratulating Lord Dumbledore on acquiring such a young bride by such an underhanded method. After all, as the listed bond holder on a contract for a person he had no rights to sign for, it was a fool proof method of getting himself a wife."
Harry broke out into ringing laughter and made a mental promise to send a gift to the soon to be newlyweds.
Lord Rangarok leaned back in his chair and made no effort to hide his appreciation of the sight before him. Consort Sytherin was a beautiful looking boy, as wizards tastes ran, and even he could freely acknowledge that. He was also quite fertile, as it was common knowledge amongst the creatures and beings who exactly was the other parent of Fenrir Greyback's cubs, as well as the fact that he had given birth to identical twin sons from Lord Sytherin's seed. It was also being bandied about that the current pregnancy was brought about by a treaty with the centaurs and that Harry was currently expecting the offspring from a high-ranking centaur warrior.
He would have to see to a treaty that would afford the Goblin nation such an agreement. And as the one to head such a matter, it would only be right for him to shoulder such a burden and not leave it up to an underling. As an elder, it was his duty to see to the lesser Goblin's wellfare after all.
Eleven months
Harry clattered nervously to his feet, all four of them. It was one thing to be told that he would be changing into a centaur to give birth, but it was another matter entirely to actually be confronted with such a reality. Now that he had changed, it was clear that as large as he felt he was while human, it was nothing on the girth his horse half was sporting, really driving home the effectiveness of the medical spells cast on him in an effort to support the pregnancy.
The other bit was the fact that Harry had been thinking that managing four legs would only cause him to trip up and land in a sprawling heap on the floor. It turns out that there was absolutely no conscious thought involved in the process of walking or rising. His legs did just whatever wished to do with no major effort on his part, for which fact Harry was duly greatful.
Harry began to pace about the room in agitation. The contractions had started in the early hours that morning and it was almost sunset. His bag of waters had broken sometime in the afternoon. He was exhausted, covered in sweat, and wanted nothing more than to be resting on the low, armless sofa brought in for him, but had been told that movement would hasten the delivery process. Harry halted his pacing as yet another contraction gripped him, sending harsh pain surging through him. Moaning, Harry leaned against the nearest wall, letting it support his massive weight during the contraction. His tail twitched as it attempted to flick away the pain, but the tight nubbin it had been braided up into to get it out of the way didn't do any thing to actually aid him.
Once the current contraction ceased, Harry resumed his pacing. He only halted in his restless circling of the room when another contraction would spear his form. It was on his fifth journey around the room on his current bout of pacing that he finally felt an overwhelming urge to push. Making his way over to the wooden railing that had been set tightly into the wall for just this purpose, Harry grabbed tightly at the bar and bore down. He was quickly joined by his Healer, who started to murmur words of comfort and encouragement, with the occasional louder words giving him directions.
After a great deal of effort, and almost forty minutes of pushing on Harry's part, a filly was born. She had Harry's black coat and was currently sporting a set of blue eyes, which Harry knew from experience could change into another color. Charles helped to steady the wobbly filly on her spindley legs and got her over to the teats which had formed on Harry's body as soon as he had transformed species. She settled in to ethusiastically nurse with very little need of aid from Charles, who had explained to Harry that the nursing filly would help speed up the delivery of the placenta.
Her birth had been accompanied by the, now expected, flare of magic from Harry, tying her into the pact of non-violence to family that he had done with all of his children. Tom, watching the proceedings via spell, could only raise a glass in toast towards the boy who had so much determination to have a family of his own, no matter the means said family was formed, that his very soul had reached out through his magic and ensured the safety of the children he bore from anyone of their shared blood. Harry would guarantee peace throughout the wizarding world, one child at a time, as the various rulers were ensuring by seeking an heir of his blood on all peace and alliance treaties made with the government.
The boy-who-lived indeed.
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Denebola, Leo, tail of the lion (Astronomy based)
Angharad, Welsh mythology, maiden who cured another by using her unblemished virgin blood (Arthurian legend)