Intimacy

2nd February 1999- Tuesday

Thomas stroked Harry's hair as he continued to lean against him, propping his head atop the other man's. It was silky despite its inherent untamableness, and his Concubine seemed to relax further by the second, practically melting trustingly in his hold.

Over Harry's head, unbeknownst to the man, he stared at the corner of the room, right by the door, where one of his most senior Knights stood, hidden under multiple charms and an invisibility cloak. With his eyes, he conveyed a message. The Knight's aura vanished as he fled to do his bidding, and Thomas smirked.

Harry pulled away from his chest, and he softened his gaze and expression in time for the man's teary one to meet his, the green orbs even more vibrant against his flushed face. Thomas stroked his cheek gently with a thumb, which drew a self-conscious smile from the Concubine.

"Merlin, I'm a mess." He sniffed. "Sorry." Harry apologised again, and he tutted disapprovingly.

"Stop apologising, I have already said that I believe your reasonings to be just. You are receiving a punishment, although it will be more of a boon to you than anything."

If something was to truly be a punishment, it needed to be void of benefits after all. Confinement would ensure his husband's, and child's, safety, and the lowered stipend would mean nothing truly. Thomas wouldn't allow anyone who was his to go without luxury, the man would be cared for and lavished within his Palace, safe and content.

"I know, It's just... I've already seen them on a scan. They're so beautiful, Thomas. So perfect and small."

He took note of the lack of gendered language, unless...

"Just the one?"

"Just the one." Harry smiled at him, looking giddy. "Although I've already got a slight bump. It's not big, I've been able to hide it easily up until now, but," He grabbed his hand, and Thomas allowed for it to be placed upon the man's stomach. "It's there."

He was right. It was small, smaller at this stage than Thomas was used to, but there was definitely a bump there. He spread his hand against it, wishing he could feel some sort of movement from their baby. It was too soon, of course, but he could hope.

"Perfect," He couldn't help but mutter, and the way the man's eyes softened told him it was the right thing to say.

"They are. Our baby."

6th February 1999- Saturday- [Dual POV]

The Emperor looked as handsome as always, sat on his smaller throne in his office. He wore a touch of colour today in contrast to his usual black outfits, the details of his robes a deep green. Patricia thought he looked perfect like this, and eagerly awaited running her hands through his hair as he kissed her breathless once she revealed the news she rushed here to divulge.

When she uttered the words, the Emperor's fingers had laced together in front of his face, hiding any expression that would have disclosed what he was feeling at that moment. Patricia shifted where she sat, but continued to eagerly await his reaction.

"You are sure?" He questioned, staring into her blue eyes.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I am pregnant. Isn't it wonderful? Me and Sister Jasmine, due so close to one another," She smiled at him, her giddy anticipation for praise palpable.

He sat back, staring at her with conflicted emotions. Patricia was the most concerning of his concubines, whom Thomas felt he could trust the least when it came to his children. Their daughters, especially.

Their first daughter, Daniella, had been his second child and the Second Princess for the two months she was alive. She had been born with his dark locks and baby blue eyes, although he hadn't got to see if they'd have changed as she grew older. Because then, she was gone, and all Patricia's pregnancies since had suspiciously ended soon after her first scan. All babies of which were identified as female post-mortem. And that was only the pregnancies he knew of, that had lasted even that far along.

It was suspicious that the woman was even informing him. The last time they had slept together was on her birthday, which was just shy of twelve weeks ago. Patricia would have had her first scan by now, and most likely, against his wishes, found out the gender if possible.

Thomas decided to be truthful first of all. "I'm overjoyed at the news," But would this pregnancy be like all the others? Would there be a baby for him to hold at the end? Or would Patricia yet again tell him that the baby, always a little girl, hadn't made it. That, next time, they would 'have their little boy'.

"So am I, Your Majesty." Patricia's magic began to fizz in excitement, and Thomas squinted. He threw up an invisible shield with a thought for precaution. "Especially since this will be our long-awaited first son together." She added on brightly, leaning forward. "I'm glad we're finally getting one."

Patricia bit her lip to contain the grin that wanted to practically split her face. The Emperor's expression was still blank, but she could tell that he was restraining himself purposefully. Their little Prince, finally.

She had been overjoyed when she had first found out just that morning, bending over to weep with gratitude. Patricia would soon have another babe in her arms, after so many years of failures. A Prince this time, a son that she could keep.

Thomas had to stop his magic from crushing the desk in front of him. It still rattled ominously, but the worst of the damage was some cracks that were fixed absentmindedly. He turned away from her, breathing in deeply.

Patricia continued to boast, uncaring that he had yet to respond. "Well, the Healer believes him to be a boy, but I know he will be. He's been long awaited, our own little Prince. I've already sent off orders to the department to start making his clothes, and to begin preparing a nursery in my Palace. Oh, but then there's also-" She finally took stock of his darkened expression. "Your Majesty? Aren't you pleased?" Patricia's voice was filled with confusion and exaggerated hurt. "I thought you would be happy. This will be your fifth son."

Thomas' lip twitched up into a snarl. His hands clenched at his sides. "Sixth." He bit out and turned towards her. "Sixth son. Jasmine is carrying a healthy boy as well." Thomas felt his eyes burn with anger, but he was filled also with vindictive glee as Patricia's bewilderment became genuine. "And it will stay that way, won't it, darling?" His voice was a hiss as he met her gaze, sneering at the way she bared her teeth back at him. Patricia's confusion had turned into anger, and he smirked.

She stood, a flurry of red-haired fury. "It will. And so will our son." Was all she responded with, before she fled his office, magic singeing the doorway as she went.

Thomas sat back, blowing out a heavy breath.

Three.

That was the third current pregnancy, all so close together. Harry was just over sixteen weeks along, Jasmine was at thirteen weeks, and Patricia was just under twelve.

He could almost feel the headache he would inevitably gain after the announcement of this at the beginning of the month, but snickered nonetheless.

Three children, each either the first or only living connection from his House to theirs.

The Lafington's were a former Pureblooded, turned Halfblood House from Ireland. Sure, the family wasn't that powerful nowadays, but Jasmine's ancestors had been known to carry the gene for a second, smaller magical core, located near their heart. Jasmine herself didn't have one, but her great-grandfather had, and that's what mattered to him. Their child had the possibility of attaining such a boon, which would forever become associated with the Slytherin name and hopefully pass down to future generations.

The Rakepick's had no special talents such as that, but Patricia herself was exceptional. She had been top of her class at Hogwarts and became a Professional Curse-Breaker soon after graduation. When she had breezed through the Selection and smirked up at him, Thomas had chosen her as the third member of his Harem. Their daughter, Daniella, had been that link to the powerful witch, but with her death, he felt as if he had lost control. The deaths of their subsequent daughters had sealed that. However, now, with this 'Prince' she had so desperately waited for, that link had been reforged. Thomas would protect this child from their mother, no matter what they were.

And it was Harry's pregnancy that he was most thrilled to receive confirmation of. Their child would be another link to the illustrious Black family, this time through the blood-adopted Heir who would become Lord Black eventually, and pass on his titles to his children. That wasn't to say that Harry didn't share a true blood link to the Black Family- in his two times Great Grandmother was one- and this meant that there was also the chance the many talents of the House would be passed down.

This wasn't the connection Thomas was most pleased about, however.

His Concubine was foremost the Heir to the House of Potter, a staunchly Light family that hadn't budged in their allegiance in centuries. While it wasn't a spectacularly powerful House, as it once was during the Middle Ages, it was a connection he couldn't have dreamed about before the man landed unexpectedly in his Harem.

That, and the fact that he didn't seem inclined to despise Thomas, had been the biggest surprise. The Heir to a man and woman who he suspected had dealings with Albus Dumbledore, not indoctrinated to hate everything Dark? It was a blessing he wouldn't let go of.

And with this child, they would be linked through blood, a tie stronger than that of marriage. A union that would result in the connection of the two remaining Peverell bloodlines, and hopefully allow a strong enough claim to bring back the Ancient House from extinction.

10th February 1999- Wednesday

Harry stared down at the giggling photo of his sister, who sat in a wooden highchair at the end of their dining room table, bashing her hands happily down onto a birthday cake. She was one year old as of yesterday, and Harry mourned the loss of time, for the moments he hadn't been present for.

He had only met her once in her life, in the whole year she had been here. Harry had missed out on so much already. First breath, first smile, first laughs, first words, first steps. And now, he was pregnant with what would be Florence's niece or nephew, who would be less than two years younger than herself.

Her hair had grown out into wild, bright curls, he noted. That auburn-almost-red colour that his Mum was known for, so different to Weasley-ginger. It looked almost magical, curling over the tips of her little ears, practically obscuring her warm, brown eyes.

They were opposites in their colouring, taking a feature from each of their parents. Florence, their Mum's hair, their Dad's eyes- and nose, Harry noted. He took it all from their Dad, apart from the eyes and nose.

Harry felt grateful that his parents would have another child to fill the space he had left, he'd been worried that they'd feel lonely by themselves in that giant Manor. His Mum's unexpected but welcome pregnancy had been a deciding factor in his determination to join the Harem. She would entertain their parents, keeping them content and happy, whilst Harry went away to salvage the reputation of their House and ensure she had the best childhood possible.

That was all firmly in reach now.

Harry had succeeded in becoming a Concubine, well ahead of his previous expectations. He still had a part of the Emperor's favour, despite the recent happenings, he was even on a first-name basis with the man. And most importantly, he was pregnant.

He placed a hand on his swollen stomach, tracing gently over it.

This child would be a physical connection of their Houses, one no one could refute or break. And more than that, they would be a connection between him and Thomas. Their child, their shared blood.

Harry felt a flutter inside his stomach then. He frowned, sitting up straighter, focusing all his attention on it. There. Another flutter, as gentle as the first, but distinct in a way that couldn't be mistaken.

He placed both of his hands on his stomach eagerly, but the sensation didn't seem to register outwardly. But he could feel the movement of his baby, and it brought tears of relief to his eyes.

15th February 1999- Monday

An unexpected knock on his door startled Harry, causing him to tear the parchment he was writing on. Instead of growing annoyed, he rushed for the door. It had been days since the last visitor of any sort, and he was starting to go stir-crazy.

Confinement was a blessing for the baby, but Harry hadn't realised how used to constant interaction he had become. The assigned maids weren't much help in that, as most of them treated him strictly as an employer, not a friend- although that's not to say they weren't cordial towards him. Anya was his best form of socialisation, although she seemed more likely to lecture than chat with him recently. Kia liked to chat, but they had run out of interesting conversations days ago. And with Tabitha, the woman couldn't spend too long standing around so they could sign to each other, so he was stuck overhearing others' conversations instead.

Outside the doors stood an Eunuch, dressed in the Emperor's colours, flanked by two Knights with their faces covered. Harry blinked as the Eunuch bowed before pulling out a scroll of parchment from Merlin knows where.

"Concubine Slytherin-Potter-Black," The man's voice carried, and his maids began to congregate behind him. "His Majesty announces that you are permitted to attend the ascension ceremony and wedding of Her Highness, the Sixth Concubine. You are to interact with the other participants as scarcely as possible and are to make your way back to your Palace once the event is over so that you may resume your confinement. The Emperor allows this so you may welcome His Majesty's newest Spouse alongside Your Royal Highnesses."

"Today?" Was all he could utter.

"At 5'o'clock, Your Highness."

It was already 3:45 p.m.

"I am grateful for His Majesty's benevolence." Harry managed to keep his composure until the man and the Knights were nearing the gate, before slamming the door shut.

"Anya! I need robes!"

To hide his pregnancy until it was announced on the first of March, Harry wore the loosest robes he had in his wardrobe. Luckily, it was still cold enough to wear such thick layers, but he still looked a little awkward so overly dressed.

However, as long as there was no concrete evidence that he was pregnant, the other concubines could speculate all they wanted. A boon of his isolation meant an influx of guards, and the Emperor had even assigned one to test his food before he ate or drank as a precaution against another poisoning.

It was a wonder, with precautions such as these, how so many previous concubines had been poisoned whilst pregnant. Or, perhaps, there was something going on that Harry didn't know about.

He wore sparse jewellery, although allowed the hairpin he had been gifted for Christmas. He looked rather plain for a wedding, but Harry was sure there would be other things to focus on other than his clothes.

Jasmine looked beautiful in her green robes, smiling happily as she made her way up to the dias. In her hair, gems of green were woven throughout her curls, dangling onto her forehead. The tiara she wore was similar to the one he had been gifted for his promotion, although Jasmine's had more twirls and twists, the peaks topped with small diamonds. It suited her perfectly, and she wore it confidently.

She was grinning as she spoke the final, ceremonial words, practically bouncing in place. His Majesty looked composed as usual, although spared her a few, amused glances. Finally, they sealed their vows with a kiss, and the crowd dispersed to mingle.

Harry made to escape as soon as he could, adhering to the Emperor's decree. Unfortunately, without his notice, Regulus had snuck up behind him, stopping him short.

The man wore a frown on his face, looking confused and concerned, emotions that shouldn't be worn on such an occasion."Why has the Emperor confined you?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle. I can't say. Please, I need to go." Harry tried to evade him, but the man sidestepped into his path. He sighed, flicking black waves over his shoulder.

"Nephew, please, what is it? Is it a punishment? What did you do to warrant such a thing?"

"It is a punishment as much as it is for safety. Now, please, I really need to get back." Harry felt jittery, exposed, cautious under the gaze of so many. These people weren't his friends, they would cause him harm if they could. Already, it was incredibly suspicious that he had been placed in confinement with no official announcement. Harry was sure many of them had correctly guessed why already, this was a procedure they had witnessed before, although most told the Emperor of their pregnancy at the end of the month, rather than right at the beginning.

He was attracting attention the longer he stayed out in the open. Already, he could see several concubines- Erin, Jasmine, Lukas- inching closer, listening in and waiting for the moment to corner and question him. Harry's heart beat a little faster at the cold glare he was receiving from Patricia, and Dahlia's sneer didn't help him feel any safer. 

Regulus stared at him, his expression serious. His eyes, perfect copies of Sirius', searched his face, and then surveyed the milling throng around them. "Alright," He nodded. "I'll make up some excuse in the meantime. The rumour mill has been thriving, you know? There is all sorts of gossip going around, debating why you were confined so unexpectedly. I'll take one of those, say you didn't dismiss it as a reason but didn't agree either."

Harry smiled gratefully, the selfless act that could get his Uncle into conflict with the others noted. "Thank you." He conveyed simply, before turning and hurrying away, absorbed back into the ranks of Eunuchs and Knights, a maid gripping tightly onto his arm.

23rd February 1999- Tuesday

Harry stared out the window, watching the last of the ice melt away, running in rivulets down the window. The pale winter sun was glowing weakly, barely warming him, but it had been growing stronger recently.

Orla was dusting the bookshelf to his side, chattering way as she did so. Harry didn't mind, because she was revealing information he couldn't access for himself whilst in confinement. Harry never thought he'd see the day when he missed the daily meetings, but at least they were a good source of gossip.

"Concubine Lafington's pregnancy still seems to be progressing without trouble, Your Highness."

"That's good, I'm glad for her," Harry muttered sincerely, tracing a droplet with his fingertip as it ran down the window. In his lap, a book about Defensive Magic laid open, discarded when the words had begun to swim together.

"Although, there does seem to be a bit of strain between her and Noble Witt recently."

Finally, Harry pulled himself away from the glass, frowning at her words. Erin and Jasmine, fighting? They were most likely the closest pair in the Harem, even he and Luna didn't meet up daily or spend more time in each other's Apartments than they did their own. "And why is that?"

"Apparently, Noble Witt was seen shouting at her after her promotion. Her maids have been saying she's been more irritated as of late, probably since they have been close ever since they joined in the same year. Now, Concubine Lafington is a rank higher than she is, and pregnant at that. Perhaps she's displeased since she has given his Majesty a daughter already, yet it is her pregnant friend who has been promoted."

Harry kept his lips sealed, not voicing his opinions. Orla may be a good source of gossip, especially now in his confinement, but she was also a leak for his own goings. One wrong word and the entire Court would know his thoughts. It was hard even now trying to hide his ever-swelling belly from her prying gaze. He only wore closer-fitting robes within his rooms and in sight of his personal maids. Whenever he ventured out into the other parts of his palace, Harry made sure his belly was hidden under swathes of fabric. It was lucky it was still cold out, although with spring quickly creeping up on them, he would have to shed his layers soon.

Perhaps it was a blessing his hardest-kept secret would be out by the start of March. An announcement of a baby to herald in spring. Fitting.

"And there's more!" She giddily spoke under his full attention, cleaning forgotten about. Harry hummed, staring at the duster she was waving about, spreading dust. "I've heard that Concubine Black has been spending more time around His Majesty these days. Others are whispering that he has decided he wishes to have another baby, although it is a matter of speculation whether or not the Emperor will accept him after all this time. He has been refusing His Majesties advancements for much too long for that, I think."

Harry frowned. "Keep your opinions to yourself, you are talking about a spouse of the Emperor and my Uncle."

She flushed, turning back to dust vigorously. "Ah! Yes, my apologies, Your Highness. I forgot myself."

He hummed, turning back to stare out at the garden. Soon enough, the silence grew too loud once more, and Harry sighed. Orla had moved on to wiping down the tables now. "Is there anything else?

The woman startled, before grinning sharkishly, quickly dampened by his unimpressed stare. "There is also speculation that Concubine Rakepick may be pregnant." Harry straightened up, eyes widening. Orla paid attention to his increased engagement and smiled slyly. "She has been flaunting her stomach recently, although has made no motion to confirm or deny anyone's suspicions. The maids of her palace told me she's been stocking up on baby clothes. Boys ones. A room in her Palace has also been set aside to be redecorated."

Harry stood from his seat, beginning to pace. His hand twitched closer to his stomach, the movement hidden by his sleeve. Patricia, pregnant? That was unexpected, as well as unwelcome news if it was the truth. The woman had a sinister reputation regarding her own pregnancies and children, something Harry shivered to think about.

"What else can you tell me? How far along do they say she is?"

Orla seemed to be enjoying his visible unease, still smiling widely as she pretended to focus once more on her task, but she was watching him out of the corner of her eye. "Oh, I'm not sure, the gossip varies. Some say she's only a few weeks along, some say ten, others report her to be already within the second trimester. Although," Here, Orla smirked, stopping dramatically. Harry frowned at the pause, waving her on. "Pat- Her Highness has previously been known to fake a pregnancy. For attention." She tacked on.

"Who would do such a thing? Surely it's obvious there's no baby, and she would have to know she'd be punished for doing something like that."

"People do strange things for attention," Orla shrugged. "As I said, it's happened before, and it's clear she's preparing for a little Prince. Who knows whether it's real or fantasy?"