Auror
January 1999
Harry and Theo were sitting at a cafeteria inside the Ministry of Magic. The food was abysmal, but it was part of the meal plan and both of them were too tired to complain about the quality. Harry could have called Kreacher to bring them something, but his head was stuffed with information for his upcoming internal exam in the Department of Mysteries. He had been spared NEWTs, as the Department had their own criteria. Breaking in on multiple occasions had allowed both he and Theo to skip a few critical steps of the hiring process.
“I think there’s something wrong with my vision,” Theo said abruptly.
Harry held out his hand and the Elder Wand appeared as if summoned. It just showed up when it wanted to, honestly. Harry waved it around lazily, murmuring a spell under his breath.
“Your eyes are fine,” Harry said. “Gazing into them is like slipping into a dream, or a black hole.”
“A black hole, warping space and time,” Theo said. “Yes, that explains what I am seeing.”
Harry stopped playing with the sandwich he had been deconstructing and saw Ron Weasley jog past with a few other people he recognized, being led by Tonks, who had just got off maternity leave.
“Is that Nev?” he asked. “Millicent Bulstrode, Parvati Patil, Greg Goyle, Roger Davies, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan, Marcus Flint, wait, Cedric Diggory? Is this some kind of twisted reunion?”
“Keep up, maggots!” Tonks shouted, running backwards and casting stinging hexes at Harry’s old classmates.
“It’s auror training,” Theo said. “You’d think they’d start off by teaching them to hold the right end of their wands.”
“I would rather die,” Harry declared. “I would rather bring an end to all of existence than run around like a complete and utter twat in the middle of the Ministry while good, god-fearing people are trying to choke down their dry-as-balls sandwiches.”
Theo turned to look at him. Harry looked back.
“I feel like I’m drowning whenever I look at you,” he said dreamily.
“I could give you something else to choke down,” Theo replied.
Harry stood up, eyes burning with passion. “I want a sausage roll from Greggs.”
“That’s not quite what I meant.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here before they come round for another lap. I do not want to hear Ron Weasley grunting while I’m trying to eat.”
July 1999
Harry clung to Theo as they rode the lift up to the Atrium. He’d accidentally walked through Pluto in the Space Chamber and his mind was very, very far away.
“It’s not even a real planet,” Theo said, brushing Harry’s curls, thinking about how his hair was just long enough to grab. “If you walked through Saturn I could say your head was in the clouds. Pluto’s barely got an atmosphere.”
Harry giggled.
“It wouldn’t take you nearly as long to get back if it had been Saturn,” he said, kissing Harry’s forehead. “I ought to take you home. You’ll upset Kreacher, you know how sensitive he is.”
“They tried and failed,” Harry whispered. “They tried and died.”
“You’re lucky I tolerate all those muggle films you make me watch,” he said. “Otherwise I would think you were having prophetic visions.”
“Bring in the floating fat man!”
Just then, the lift opened up to none other than Ron Weasley. Theo was mostly carrying Harry by that point, locked in what a Weasley might think was a torrid embrace.
“H-hey Harry,” Ron said. “Nott.”
“Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing,” Harry said giddily. “Only I will remain!”
“You alright, mate?” Ron asked, stepping forward and reaching a hand out.
“Touch my fiance and you will no longer have anything with which to touch,” Theo said, carrying Harry out of the lift as Ron reeled back.
“You can’t say shit like that to me!” Ron exclaimed, reaching for his wand.
“Why are you even here?” Theo asked. “Didn’t Lavender Brown already wash out?”
It was sort of inevitable they would draw a crowd. He carried their savior in his arms. They would have to kill him to get Harry away, and Harry would bring him back from the dead then piss on their graves.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Ron demanded.
“I assumed that being attached to her throughout sixth year combined you and her into a single organism. A nematode, perhaps. Something simple, yet parasitic.”
“I’m dating Hermione,” Ron hissed, finally noticing the audience his little tantrum had drawn.
“You should be renamed Remora Weasley,” Theo said.
“I’d ask you what boot tastes like, but it’s shoved so far down your throat I doubt you can speak,” Harry murmured, massaging his temples.
“You’re back?” Theo asked, pleased that the center of his universe was restored.
“I’ll always find my way back to you,” Harry said softly, reaching up to trace his lips. “Here I am, here I remain.”
“I thought you were quoting Dune because the majority of your mind was orbiting some distant world,” Theo said. “You just think Sting is attractive.”
“A little spittle for your face,” Harry said, kissing his cheek.
“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Ron asked. “Whatever, my break’s almost over.”
“Later, Ron,” Harry said, waving at him as the lift doors closed. “Weird, I thought he washed out months ago.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Hmm. It’s almost time for din-din.”
“Please explain again why I am marrying someone who only got an E on his Ancient Runes OWL?”
January 2000
Harry happily pressed against Theo as they huddled under his invisibility cloak while Knockturn Alley was turned over by aurors.
“Isn’t this romantic,” he said, watching as a hag projectile vomited on Ron. “Her sputum doesn’t clash nearly as badly with his hair as his auror robes.”
“I’m impressed that he avoided getting any in his mouth,” Theo said, pressing a kiss into his hair.
“Why did they schedule a raid today of all days,” Harry said, twirling the Elder Wand in his hand. It flew off and stabbed Neville in the eye.
“Sorry, Nev,” Harry whispered, calling the wand back and raising a shield so his friend didn’t get disemboweled. “Should we help?”
“Kreacher?” Theo said. The old elf popped up, totally oblivious to the pandemonium around them. The entire street was trashed. Spells flashing, blood spraying, screaming, crying, laughter, bottles smashing, flames, Ron slipping in a puddle of vomit from the same hag. She had a lot in her stomach.
“Yes, Master Theo?”
“I think we are going to be here for a while. Could you bring Harry and I something to eat and drink?”
Kreacher vanished, and in his place appeared tea and biscuits.
“Oh, Jammie Dodgers,” Harry said happily. “Kreacher is the best elf!”
“Those are homemade Linzer biscuits,” Theo corrected. “And he’s made treacle and ginger too.”
“The best,” Harry repeated. “Are you sure these rings are worth it?”
The confrontation came to a head before Theo could answer him.
“You are under arrest by order of—”
“Eat shit!”
“Wow,” Harry said, nibbling on one of the treacle bikkies. “I knew Ron tried some kind of eat slugs thing in second year that backfired. Took bollocks to try eat shit.”
“I could do without the aftermath,” Theo said. “And yes, these rings are absolutely worth it. I want to be bound to you in every dimension.”
Harry blushed. “Alright, I guess the show’s over.”
He passed his tea to Theo, blushing again when Theo took a sip, then stepped out from under the invisibility cloak.
“It is I!” Harry announced, drawing everyone’s attention. “The Boy!”
“Harry?” Neville asked, looking away from the person he’d just tied up. “What are you doing here? It isn’t safe for civilians.”
Harry rubbed the back of his head. “This is kind of awkward, but you’re raiding the shop that’s making me and Theo’s wedding rings.”
“Blimey,” Neville said, looking embarrassed. “If we had known we could have held off a day or two.”
“What are you on about?” Ron exclaimed. “You can’t just reschedule surprise raids! We’ve got to strike while the iron is hot!”
“Sorry Haz,” Tonks said, her hair turning a sad shade of blue. “Weatherby’s right. Plus, I’d have to cancel on the sitter, it’s this whole thing.”
“He doesn’t even know what that idiom means,” Harry said. “He probably got it from Hermione. And Sirius is the sitter! He has nothing better to do!”
“Are you imbeciles aware,” Theo said darkly, having also come out of the invisibility cloak, “how impossible it is to get custom-made goblin-wrought silver? How astronomically improbable it is?”
A half-goblin woman stuck her head out of the shop door. “Sirs? I have your rings ready.”
“Praise the lord,” Harry said. Tonks got it, but Ron, Neville, and a few other aurors with no exposure to muggle culture looked disturbed. Theo pressed his face against Harry’s shoulder to hide his laughter. “How much do we owe you?”
“Six hundred and twenty-five thousand galleons,” she said, grinning ferally at them.
Ron fainted. Harry rolled him over so he wouldn’t suffocate in someone else’s vomit.
It was an auspicious day after all.
July 2000
“My baby boy,” Sirius wailed. “My little Ophie! I can’t believe I’m giving you away. You’re barely twenty!”
“He’s exactly twenty,” Theo said. “And this is a handfasting. There is no giving away.”
“We will be bound for eternity,” Harry said. “No barrier in life or death shall keep me from him.”
“James, Lily,” Sirius said, falling to his knees. “Your son is becoming a man!” Then he turned into a dog and ran at the fit Weasley. No, Theo was not upset about the name. Charles Weasley would get his. He would burn.
They all would.
Theo was startled out of his idle thoughts of vengeance when Harry kissed him on the cheek.
“You’re supposed to leave the machinations to me,” Harry said. “It’s in our vows.”
“And for good reason,” Theo admitted. Harry was far more tolerant than he was. If Harry chose to conquer the world—which Theo didn’t fully support as ruling the world would take up a lot of Harry’s time—he would be a mostly just leader.
They were having a small handfasting ceremony on Harry’s twentieth birthday. Since they couldn’t tastefully exhume his parents, it was taking place at the cemetery in Godric’s Hollow. At least the public part of the ceremony, the one to which they invited their friends and family. Theo didn’t really have any family, nor did he care for friends. He had Harry, that was all he wanted or needed.
Harry’s side had filled out the audience. The Tonkses, The Tonks-Lupins or whatever they were calling themselves, Weasleys, Grangers, Longbottoms and Lovegoods, house-elves, portraits, a hippogriff, a gyrfalcon, two phoenixes, two owls, a grass snake that kinda just showed up, Aberforth Dumbledore, Hagrid, Snape just because Harry wanted to fuck with him. It was great.
“Did he really have to wear his auror robes?” Harry muttered. “I knew I shouldn’t have invited them. We should have just done something at Grimmauld Place. Or on your family’s ancestral death grounds.”
Theo draped himself over Harry, pressing their foreheads together, staring into those brilliant eyes that held the answer to every question he could think to ask.
“There will be no witnesses when I take you to the burial mounds,” he whispered. “Only the stars above and the dead below.”
“If Ron tries any of his auror bullshit today I will personally show him why we are called Unspeakables,” Harry said distantly.
“His suffering will be exquisite,” Theo agreed.
Sirius started barking. Theo checked the position of the sun. It was time.
January 2001
Harry and Theo were sitting at the cafeteria again. The food had vastly improved since it had been destroyed and rebuilt two years prior.
“I will not try it,” Harry said. “You know how I feel about aubergines. They look good but they aren’t. It’s a lie. It’s the biggest lie in the vegetable world.”
“This is a big decision,” Theo said gently. “The biggest one we have made.”
Harry snorted. “I’m pretty sure letting Tommy get a clear shot was the biggest decision I’ve made.”
Theo frowned, and Harry immediately felt guilty. He had no idea what it had been like for Theo to watch him die. Harry would have lost his mind if the roles had been reversed.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. It’s going to take us three months to prepare the ritual. Do you think we can be ready by the spring equinox?”
“I know we will be,” Theo said. “You’ve calculated it how many times? You know I’m not referring to that. I refuse to raise my daughter with a man who won’t eat an aubergine.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Harry mumbled, looking off to the side.
Theo narrowed his eyes. “You have yet to present an adequate explanation.”
Harry closed his eyes. He really, really didn’t want to talk about it. He was glad he and Theo ate side-by-side now, instead of across from each other. It was too much distance. It also made it easier for him to pull Theo close and whisper secrets to him.
“It has to do with the Dursleys, okay?” he said. “That’s why I don’t want to talk about it.”
Theo pulled him into a hug. “We will not be like them.”
“I know,” Harry whispered. “That’s part of it, isn’t it? To prove I can be a better parent, a better person.”
He sat up and reached for a dolma. He hadn’t meant for their lunch to get so heavy. “Dolma is a pretty name.”
“Absolutely not.”
“What?” Harry asked. “I’m simply making an observation.”
“Dolma literally means stuffed.”
Harry gently set down the dolma. “Maybe we should start eating somewhere else.”
Just then, Ron limped by, secreting a strange pink ooze from all of his orifices, at least the visible ones. Harry did not want to know what was going on under those robes.
“I concur,” Theo said, watching Ron’s slow progress through the Atrium. “Perhaps somewhere in muggle London? We could transfigure leaves into their currency.”
“That’s illegal,” Harry said, smiling at his husband. It was such an inadequate word for what Theo was to him.
“Who gives a shit?” Theo asked, startling a laugh out of him.
“You know,” Harry said, deciding that he actually did want the dolmas. “I think we’ll be fine.”
July 2001
“Master?”
Harry looked up from the PS2 he was trying to enchant. It was so much easier with the cartridges. “What is it, Kreacher?”
“Aurors,” Kreacher said, gnashing his teeth. “Across the street.”
“What?” Harry said, standing up. He had been hanging out in the sitting room with Kreacher and Walburga while Theo was in the sub-sub-sub-basement working on their little family project. He pulled the curtains aside and yes, there were definitely aurors staking out Grimmauld Place. Harry sighed when he recognized who it was.
“You’d think they’d get the hint after he got dumped on his great-aunt’s porch,” Harry muttered, looking around for a robe to throw on. “Thanks, Kreacher.”
Harry trooped downstairs, smiling at his grandmother Walburga as she sidled into frame, went outside, then went all the way to the sidewalk where the Fidelius charm ended. Across the street were Ron, Millicent Bulstrode who was actually quite competent, and an embarrassed Neville.
“Harry James Potter!” Ron declared when he saw him. “There have been reports of a dark ritual being conducted at your place of residence!”
“What place of residence?” Harry asked.
“We know it is under Fidelius!” Ron shouted.
“Why are you shouting?” Harry shouted back.
Ron’s face went red. “You started it!”
“Oh, piss off with that,” Harry said. “And what reports? You mean me telling you and Hermione in confidence that me and Theo are trying to have a kid? I didn’t even tell you how! For all you know I’ve transfigured myself a brand new womb! Maybe I’ve had one the whole time!”
Ron actually growled at him. “Tell Sirius to stay away from my brother!”
“Which one?” Harry asked.
“Charlie!”
“I don’t even understand what’s going on anymore,” Harry said. “You’re accusing me and Theo of doing dark rituals because Sirius fancies your older brother?”
“Harry,” Neville said placatingly. “There is a miasma over the entire neighborhood. Please be reasonable.”
Harry looked up at the sky. So what if it was a little stormy? Purple clouds and blood rain were completely normal for the area.
“Correlation is not causation,” Harry said. “It looks like it’ll clear up in about…five months.”
“Five months?” Ron spluttered. “Five months?”
“Congratulations,” Millicent said.
“Thank you!”
“There is a literal river of blood flowing through the street!” Ron shrieked.
“I’ll reroute it,” Harry said, turning to go back inside. “I’ll pay a fine or whatever.”
“Harry James Potter! You are under arrest for violations of—”
Harry slammed the door shut.
July 2002
Harry poked Dagmar’s little nose. She was six months old and perfect in every single way.
Theo watched his husband and daughter laugh at each other. Dagmar’s…gestation…had been a trying time for their family, but it was worth every single sacrifice. Every. Single. One.
“Dag, can you say fathær-banæ?” Harry cooed at her. She babbled some nonsense back and a nearby glass exploded.
“That’s it,” Ron said, standing up. Theo looked over and saw he was dripping. It must have been his glass Dagmar’s magic accidentally latched onto. Funny, that.
“What’s it?” Hermione asked, glancing at Theo’s little family. “Ron, it’s Bring Your Child To Work Day. Some magical mishaps are to be ex—”
“No, I mean I’m done,” Ron said. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Ronald, maybe we should discuss this—”
“I quit!”
Ron threw his napkin down, stormed out of the cafe and into a fireplace, vanishing in a burst of green flames.
Theo shared a looked with Harry, who was hiding his face in their daugher's fine black curls.
“Fucking finally.”