Intimacy

13th April 1999- Tuesday

The man was lounging in his chair, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world, as he listened halfheartedly during the morning meeting. A book was hanging limply in his hands, and he was drumming his fingers repetitively on the armrest. From her new position off of the dias, Bellatrix could see and hear this better, now that she was on the same level as the rest of the harem.

Her attention having been lost long ago, she stared at the way Potter cradled his stomach, practically flaunting it to the jealous stares sent his way. Bellatrix frowned at the disrespect he was showing, the way the man was brandishing his bump, robes no longer loose and overflowing as he had worn before. Potter was mocking them, she knew it, the brat was so proud of himself for carrying the Emperor's child; as if many of them hadn't done the same thing before.

Ever since the announcement of his pregnancy the month before, it all seemed to be going wrong for Bella. The most personally irritating was that Patricia was also pregnant, that bitch who taunted her throughout the years about her many losses. Bellatrix had mourned with her when the previous Second Princess Daniella had passed as a baby, but the one she had thought of as a friend soon turned on her, mocking her as she lost one pregnancy after another. It had filled Bellatrix with sick glee when she had first shown off little Delphina to the woman, when her baby had passed milestone after milestone, steadily approaching her second birthday now. However, if the woman was to be believed, she was carrying a son, a baby who would surely overshadow Bellatrix's little Princess. That Jasmine had confirmed carrying a son, and that Potter was steadily nearing his due date made her fume and fear further.

The second, and most daunting development, was that she no longer held the highest position in the harem, all because she had been rightfully incensed to learn the Potter brat was hiding his pregnancy. Didn't he realise how such a thing could damage the reputation of the Emperor? If his concubines suddenly started popping out children left and right with no forewarning, who was to say what sort of rumours would spread? Bastardy. That was what they would whisper. A child, not the Emperor's, as there was no notice of the Emperor acknowledging his concubine's pregnancy. It had happened before, and Bellatrix would not allow it to happen again. She had used her position to implement guidance that would allow them to avert such misunderstandings, and the man had come close to causing one.

Penny- that wretch who stole her rightful position- was droning on about some sort of legislation the Emperor had passed recently. By now, Bellatrix would have dismissed the meeting, as there wasn't anything of importance to announce. However, her usurper seemed to wish to fill the entirety of the hour, wasting their time.

She could be with the Emperor- although he wasn't accepting her invitations these days- or with her daughter. She could be hosting tea with her allies, those who stood against Penny's ascension and the recent injustices she'd recently been dealt. Bellatrix wanted to be anywhere but here, subjected to mocking and pitying stares.

"What is your opinion on the matter, Sister?" Bellatrix continued to be immersed in her thoughts before a sharp clearing of a throat gained her attention. "Sister Bellatrix," Penny, her soft features contorted, was glaring down at her. The woman dressed more vibrantly as of late, yellow robes seeming to have brightened, headpieces more embellished, citrine jewellery much more prominent than previously. "Please pay attention."

"What?" She bluntly stated, frowning as she was ripped rudely from her thoughts.

With a put-out sigh- as if Bella was the problem here!- Penny repeated herself. "What is your opinion?"

"On what?"

Penny placed a hand on her brow, rubbing there with a light groan. "Sister, we have been discussing His Majesty's newest legislation for a while now, have you not been listening?"

Bellatrix snorted. "We discussed this same legislation yesterday. I thought that was the end of it, is there anything else that needs to be said?"

She fussed, making excuses as to why they should 'analyse his Majesty's legislation in depth as it may affect them at some point', and how this legislation, in particular, was 'one of the most important he'd created in a while.'

"This only affects the muggles, Sister." Patricia cut in, sneering. "Why do I need to know of legislation that affects them?"

Penny huffed. "Because, Sisters, some of us have Muggle relatives. It is not only you in the Emperor's Harem. Sister Cordelia's family is Muggle, as is Sister Erin's and a large part of mine."

She sneered. "And we are witches and wizards. So what if anything affects those Muggles? If I was related to them, which I am gladly not, I would have cut off that embarrassing connection as soon as I could. It is an honour to be a part of his Majesty's harem, we don't need the stain of Muggle relatives tainting such a prestigious creation."

Cordelia scoffed, glaring at her. "Not all of us are descended from the common rabble."

"Yes, yes, we all know you're from a royal family, but that doesn't erase the fact that they're muggles. All muggles are the same. Beings that are inherently-"

"Enough!" Penny raised her voice then, and Bella sneered to herself. "We are getting nowhere, and I doubt we'll be able to have a genial conversation after this, so this meeting is dismissed."

Bellatrix stood mere moments after she finished, hurrying out of the hall, her thoughts swirling deeper into a spiral now that she was free to think.

The third thing that had gone wrong for Bella was that the Emperor no longer held her in high regard. She had no excuse to barge into his office on grounds of discussing 'official matters', now that she was only the Secondary Consort. She could no longer spend an hour every morning chattering to him, pretending to care about his new legislation, because that was a privilege reserved for the Primary Consort and those she wished to invite along. Bellatrix could no longer simply approach him and expect him to indulge her whims, because she had lost much of the favour she had built up with him over the years.

When had she started to lose it all? When had her downfall started?

Bellatrix could not pinpoint the moment, but she felt worn down and rather old all of a sudden, tilting her head back to stare up at the blue sky, the sun warming her pale skin.

Was it when Potter had joined the harem? No, she had felt her grasp on the harem slipping for a while now, power inching out of her hands slowly, millimetre by millimetre. His ascension had only exaggerated the speed. Was it when she had lost power to Evangeline, only gaining it back when the woman had died? No, that wasn't it, the Emperor had hated that bitch by the end. Then was it as far back as when Penny had joined, a Second-Class Attendant that had climbed the ranks at alarming speed, now her superior?

Or was it Bellatrix herself? Was it the distance she had created between herself and the Emperor when she had lost one pregnancy after the other, growing more and more desperate, lashing out at the man when he tried to provide comfort? Was it when she had, finally, given birth to their daughter, but hidden her away from him? Was it her ambition to see her daughter on the throne that drove him away?

Was it that she couldn't provide the man with a son, as Evangeline had, as Isla had, as Felix had, as Penny had? As perhaps Jasmine and Patricia would if they were to be believed. As possibly the current focus of her ire, Harry, would.

But, after recent events, would the Emperor accept her into his bed again?

She was older now, forty-eight at the end of the year. Penny was only twenty-seven, and Potter turning nineteen. Could she even compete with them, conceiving yet another child?

...Could she stand yet another loss?

21st April 1999- Wednesday

Anya placed the tray down carefully on the table, wincing when the china clattered together slightly. She glanced up, relieved that Harry was still sleeping.

He was now just shy of twenty-seven weeks into his pregnancy, and it was beginning to take a physical toll on him. Harry was tired constantly but had difficulty getting to sleep nonetheless. It was a miracle he was resting now.

She hushed one of the palace-assigned maids, June, as she came stumbling into the room, chuckling to herself. The woman's face sobered, and she glared at Anya, sticking her nose up in the air as she began to dust. Anya shook her head, amazed at the attitudes she had to deal with.

Some of the maids working in Harry's palace weren't the sort she wanted around His Highness, especially not whilst he was pregnant. The touchiness and need for some of them to be around him had increased ever since the news of his pregnancy had come to light, and it was grating on every one of Anya's nerves. There had been outrage from a portion of His Highness' maids when the news broke, wondering why they hadn't been informed beforehand. Luckily, that hadn't gotten back to Harry, but Anya was now increasingly wary about them.

Orla and June, especially, were the ones she was keeping a close eye on. They were loyal to only themselves, and Orla especially didn't seem to hold Harry in high regard.

June was trusted enough to leave her alone with Harry, she was apparently his source of gossip or something like that, but when Orla was around, Anya always made sure either herself, Kia, Tabitha or Hannah were present. She had suspicions that Orla had another master in the harem, one who she was reporting to regularly.

Anya had caught her sneaking out during the night before and only stopped her those few times during Harry's first year in the harem. Now, however, she simply observed, noting which direction she went in. She had Kia follow her a few times, but she never got far as the woman was incredibly suspicious of her surroundings, acting as if she knew she had a tail. She would head off in a different direction, leading Kia elsewhere, and always circled back to Harry's Palace.

Harry shuffled in his sleep, and Anya held her breath, hoping that he wouldn't wake. But, to her dismay, his eyes began to flutter open, and he made a questioning noise.

"Did you have a nice rest, Your Highness?" Anya asked him softly once he was sat up and cognizant, and he hummed positively.

"I feel better than I have in days." He confirmed, voice still slurred a little.

"I made you a tea, although it's got a warming charm on it. I was hoping you'd sleep for a little while longer, just until Lady Luna arrived."

"Ah," Harry perked up, losing any remaining drowsiness as his face lit up. She sighed, any hope of his rest continuing dampened. "I forgot. What time is it?"

"Twenty to one, Your Highness. You still have until then."

He hummed. "Make sure you have her favourite tea ready, she doesn't like to drink much else."

"Yes, Your Highness."

She made a tea for him, pushing it closer so Harry didn't have to reach as far. Still, he struggled a little bending over to grab it, and Anya fretted as he grunted.

She hoped the experience of being pregnant would open Harry's eyes about its struggle, and put him off on having the amount he wished. However, the flash of anger he had gotten in his eyes when she had passingly mentioned such a topic a few days back made Anya second-guess that.

All she could hope was that he'd wait a while after his child was born, and allow them to help with raising the little Highness as much as possible.

1st May 1999- Saturday

The weather was terrible as they entered the month of May. The Court was littered with puddles, mud had been tracked everywhere, and the pond in his garden had overflowed. It was through the torrential downpour that Harry had to struggle to attend the morning meeting. 

He was sodden by the time he arrived, the spell he had cast rendered useless due to the wind. A quick drying spell and he was warm again, but Harry still felt slightly sticky. It was a relief to relax back into his chair and soak up the warm air of the hall, which the other concubines seemed to be doing as well.

One of the changes Harry had noticed since Penny had taken over as head of the harem was that she was less likely to cancel a daily meeting. Bellatrix, at the first hint of rain or snow falling, had used to cancel the meetings and ask them to remain in their Palaces. Penny did no such thing, so Harry and the rest were expected to attend despite the heavy rain.

Another change was that she refused to dismiss them early unless there was a disruption, the time spent hanging around in the hall, barely listening, eating into their day.

"Brother, His Majesty commends you on being so reliable as of late, and as reward for this, he graciously promotes you to the rank of Secondary Concubine." Penny gave him a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I must say, I'm pleased that there is no remaining bad blood between you and His Majesty, despite recent events."

Harry grinned, as fake as the one she was still wearing. "Why would there be, Sister? Me and His Majesty meet regularly, there has been plenty of time for us to gain each other's trust again. I'd say we're even closer than before. It's a wonderful thing."

"Quite," The Consort bit out, sourness tainting the word despite her smile. "And on more important matters, the Emperor wishes for us to send our congratulations to Her Highness, the First Princess Evana, as it is her nineteenth birthday today-."

Harry snorted to himself. He had become disillusioned with Penny as of late. She seemed to have grown less fond of him as he climbed further up the ranks and closer to her position. The dour way she had announced his promotion to Secondary Concubine and election to quickly change the subject spoke volumes.

It was saddening that he was steadfastly losing allies in the harem with his promotions, not gaining them, but he should have expected there to be feelings of animosity and jealousy growing at some point. Dahlia's and his friendship and its dissolution the clearest case.

Luna and Reguus were now the only two he would consider his allies, although whether he could truly trust his Uncle was to be debated. The man was, clearly, devoted to Bellatrix to a fault, and Harry didn't want to find out who the man would choose if it came down to that.

The answer was, depressingly, obvious.

6th May 1999- Thursday

"Thank you for humouring me today, My Concubine." The Emperor greeted him as Harry entered the dining room, sweeping in with Anya keeping him steady.

Harry gave the man a grin. "I am honoured that you would invite me for lunch, Your Majesty. I wouldn't deny a chance to spend time with you."

"Still, you are growing ever closer to your due date now. It must be tiring to make your way over here. You seemed unsteady on your feet." The man noted, and Harry winced slightly as he sat, his baby shifting to press right on his ribs.

"I make my way to the daily meetings every day, besides, I'm glad for the exercise. Anya was simply helping me as my ankles have become rather sore the past few days."

"Due to your pregnancy?"

"Yes, my Healer said it's quite a common ailment."

The Emperor hummed, clicking his fingers a couple of times. A few moments later, the doors swung open, and maids began unloading plates of food onto the table. "I was thinking," He began, and Harry gave him his full attention. "I hope that our child gets your eyes, although I pray they get my hair." He grimaces. "The Potter hair is not something I've ever imagined a child of mine having."

Harry laughed. Having lived with his hair all his life, he was used to the daily struggle, although it wasn't as bad as many exaggerated. Anya, or whoever was doing his hair for the day, always complained, but it was their fault for not listening to his advice. His grandad has invented a hair Potion specifically to help manage Potter hair, after all. "Well, they'll have a high chance of being born with black hair, as we both have it."

"We do, but that does not discard the genes of the other grandparents. Your mother has red hair, as does your sister, if I recall."

Harry smiled fondly. "Yes, Florence seems to have taken most of her colouring from our Mum. Red is recessive, however."

"My grandmother, from my paternal side, also had red hair, although more orange I suppose." The Emperor admitted. He got a faraway look in his eyes, as if lost in a memory. "No, I don't remember it being quite as bright as Lady Potters."

"Was your Grandmother a nice woman, Your Majesty?"

He snorted, a nasty grin pulling at his lips. "She was an old hag. She wanted nothing to do with me, and neither did I, truly. She died long ago now, good riddance." He said this in a humourous tone that suggested a joke, but it was one only the man himself understood. Harry offered a slight smile, which only seemed to amuse Thomas more. "Please, have some food, my Concubine. I made sure they served us a treacle tart."

15th May 1999- Saturday

Dahlia watched Harry as he walked sedately up the steps to the Pavillion. He had yet to notice the presence of her, Daphne and Theo as of yet, otherwise Dahlia was sure he would have turned away.

As if hearing her thoughts, he lifted his head then, and she met his startled, green eyes as uninterestedly as possible. Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment but continued up the steps with that characteristic bullheadedness of his.

Dahlia scoffed at his impudence, breaking eye contact to look at Daphne. She, too, had noticed the man and seemed equally annoyed with his dismissiveness towards them. He'd always been so full of himself, ignoring her when she didn't have anything to offer him. Now that he was a Concubine and in His Majesty's good books, even pregnant with his child, it seemed he wasn't going to bother with her any more, despite using her to get into the Emperor's harem in the first place.

She expected him to barge his way into their gathering, perhaps using his station to do this. However, he simply continued past them, much to her surprise, seating himself on a bench on the other side of the Pavillion.

He hadn't even acknowledged them past a quick nod on his way past, leaving them watching as he settled with a book, ignoring their stares.

Daphne scoffed audibly, turning to her with raised eyebrows. "How rude!"

Theo rolled his eyes. "Don't start something, he's a Concubine. And pregnant."

"And that excuses his behaviour?" Daphne continued, sneering. Dahlia always thought such a thing made her look ugly, the expression odd on such a pretty face. She never said this, however.

"Ignore his, Daph. If he's not going to greet us properly, we won't acknowledge him."

"He doesn't need to acknowledge us. Our rank dictates that we're supposed to greet him." Theo muttered, sipping his tea with a roll of his eyes.

"If you're going to keep on Theodore, go and greet him like a good little Attendant." Daphne snapped, and Theo's sneer suited him much more.

"I think I'll pass. I don't want you both to appear more disrespectful to authority than you already do."

Dahlia humphed and settled back into her chair. "Let's forget this. Come on Daph, you were telling me about Sister Penny's paintings?"

Theo hung back once they had finished up with their tea, the afternoon growing late. Dahlia had to get back in time for a proper lunch, as her cook never waited for her. She was disrespectful, but all attempts to get her removed had been denied by the Emperor. 

She tutted, beckoning him closer, yet he remained. "Theo?"

"I have something to discuss with our brother. I'll meet you back at the Pavillion of Stars later." He waved her off, and Dahlia hesitated, but Theo didn't seem willing to budge.

Sighing, she linked arms with Daphne instead, who was silent by her side. "Alright then, suit yourself."

He approached the man, who seemed engrossed in the thick book in his hands, a thing which would have disturbed Theo two years ago but now seemed typical for him.

"Brother Harry." He softly spoke, making sure to announce his presence before he got too close. Potter glared at him, bright green eyes flashing with a steely light. Theo barely suppressed his flinch, staring down at the man with what he hoped was as open of an expression as his upbringing could allow. Potter didn't relax in the slightest, but his regal recline let Theo know exactly how much of a threat he was seen as. Good, he wasn't here to be antagonistic.

"Attendant." Was his bland reply, and Theo swallowed back his instinctive bristling dryly.

"May I talk with you?"

"Are we not doing so already?"

He ignored his snark with grace. "Somewhere a little less public would be better."

"What could you have to say to me," He snapped his book shut. "That requires privacy?"

"Something that I believe may interest you."

Potter scoffed. "I am not one who enjoys much gossip, Attendant."

"But I'm sure that this would be most interesting for you, Your Highness."

Potter raised one of his dark eyebrows, green eyes rolling back in annoyance. "Fine. Follow me, I'm sure my gardens will be more suited towards the privacy you seem to want so much."

He followed the man back to his Palace, stopping himself from gaping at the finery. It was massive compared to the rooms Theo held, and he felt envy grip his heart. If only he could have this. 

Once they were settled, Potter raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Theo cleared his throat, leaning forward. Unmeaningly, his eyes landed on the swell of the man's stomach, which was large enough now that it was unmistakable. He looked away, flustered. "I overheard something."

"Hm?"

"About Dahlia. She's planning on poisoning you, sometime soon."

Harry frowned, feeling his magic spark under his skin. "Excuse me?" He spat, not ever trying to rein in the waves of power that forced their way out. In front of him, Theo leaned back.

With a shaking voice, the man continued. "Well, I mean, that's what I've heard! There's all sorts of rumours going around!"

Harry sneered. "So it's a rumour? Has she said anything about it?"

Was Dahlia an idiot? Informing someone of your plans was the easiest way to get found out. She had left a trail, if it was true, one that would easily be sniffed out by the Emperor when the time came to invoke retribution. That was, of course, if Harry didn't avoid her plan in the first place.

"No, but-"

"Then keep your mouth shut." He hissed, eyeing as the man's lip twitched slightly. "The maids around here like to spout all sorts of nonsense. You don't want to ruin your relationship with her, do you? I will keep my guard up, but I will not allow myself to go mad with paranoia. As you plan for me to, Nott."

The man in front of him smirked openly now, snickering a little, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "You've changed, Potter."

"And you haven't in the slightest." Harry stood, book snapping shut, signifying the end of their conversation. He wasn't in the mood for any more interaction with the man. Theodore had always creeped him out a little at Hogwarts, and the eyes he could feel on his back as he carefully descended the steps sent shivers down his spine.

He'd acknowledge the threat the man had warned him about, but he couldn't afford to hide himself away now.

Now that he was truly a major player in the Harem, the Secondary Concubine, it wouldn't do to look weak to the vultures circling ever closer.

27th May 1999- Thursday

Spring was in full bloom, the flowers bright, the leaves green, air warmed by the strong sun. It seemed to fill Harry with energy, and absentmindedly, he swung their joined hands about, humming happily. Thomas did nothing to stop this, watching him with amusement and blossoming fondness.

He wanted to keep Harry close to his side these days after he had begun hearing rumours of possible future poisonings against the man. However, each of the rumours said something different. One was that his previous childhood friend, Attendant Malfoy, was going to invite him to her garden for tea and poison him. Another pointed to Bellatrix, who would do so through the use of a maid. Yet another pointed fingers in Patricia's direction, citing that she was mad with jealousy after her most recent fall in rank. There were even some rather outlandish rumours concerning Luna; that she was just cosying up to the man, just to stab him in the back later on.

He had rummaged through the minds of these maids and Eunuchs, having no such qualms about ruining their minds with his harsh Legilimancy, only finding them to have no clear root, or for the lead to stop suddenly.

Whatever it was, whether they were rumours or not, Thomas was taking the situation seriously. He had already begun feeding Harry antidotes that would remain latent in his system until needed, administered through his Healer disguised as vitamins.

Harry was startled as he slipped on a step suddenly, grabbing at the handrail tightly to stop his fall. Thomas felt his heart lurch, magic surging forward to protectively cradle his concubine and lead them both to steady ground. He could feel the man's heart thudding in his chest, as well as a kick to his side courtesy of their child. 

"Thanks," The man sighed, breath catching in his throat. "Your Majesty." He tacked on hurriedly, and Thomas brushed a piece of his hair out of his face.

"It is no problem, my Concubine."

"That was idiotic, Brother." A snide voice came from behind them, and Harry jerked. He had already sensed the man's approach and sighed in exasperation, turning. 

Felix was making his way down the steps, having followed them at a short distance for a little while now. He was dressed finely for such an ordinary day, and Thomas wanted to sneer at the blatant posturing. In comparison, he made Harry seem like a simple lordling. Exactly the man's intention.

"Excuse me?" Harry frowned, tilting his head as the other man stepped closer. Felix didn't stop until he was right in front of them, giving Thomas his full intention, ignoring Harry entirely.

"He should be more careful with your child, Your Majesty. It was irresponsible for him to not be holding onto the handrail in the first place. Another mistake like that, if no one was there to catch him, and your child would be dead."

Harry shrank at his harsh words, and Thomas gritted his teeth slightly. His concubines seemed unable to keep the peace within the harem as of late, it seemed. Felix following him whilst he was with another, however, wasn't something new. The man didn't usually outwardly show his jealousy, but when Thomas was with other male concubines, his temper always seemed to flare.

"And what of the time you fell in the lake whilst pregnant, Felix?" He asked in response, surprising the other man. Felix, confused, didn't respond. "Nothing to say?"

"I don't believe my 'swim' has any relevance in this matter, Your Majesty." The man responded rather snippily, and Thomas grinned.

"Oh, but it has everything to do with it. Please keep your opinions to yourself, especially when they are hypocritical. Harry, come along, you're shivering. Let us take tea in my front sitting room."

Felix made a noise of discontent, but made no more comments, neither did he attempt to stop them. If he had, Thomas would have seen to it that the man realised his mistaken presumptuousness.

8th June 1999- Tuesday

Patricia approached him, a wide smile revealing her pearly white teeth. He wasn't sure if that was her version of an amiable smile, but to Harry, it looked more like a shark bearing its teeth before trapped prey.

"Brother Harry~" The woman practically purred, and he shivered at her tone. This behaviour of hers, towards him especially, in the past weeks was unusual. She had seemed to suddenly get over her ire, instead, ignoring him whilst she fawned over Jasmine. Now, she had set her sights on him yet again, just in a less antagonistic way. "Are you free this afternoon?" She questioned, still smiling.

Harry hesitantly responded. "I am. Why?"

"Well," She drew out. "I was thinking, would you join me for tea? Just the two of us, at the Pavillion. Ah, although I can't really promise it will be just us, can I? In such a public space, we're bound to bump into others."

He scrunched his nose, distrusting. "I suppose I can. What time?"

"One o'clock. It will be tea and cakes, so have a light lunch so you have room." Patricia laughed, before strutting away, leaving Harry blindsided. He huffed, exasperated, and dreaded the next few hours.

"As I was saying, I am quite looking forward to watching our children grow up together, Brother." Patricia folded her hands on the table, staring at him intently. "My son and your and Jasmine's children. There have never been so many children born so close together, it's thrilling!"

"They'll be in the same year at Hogwarts, presumably." Harry smiled awkwardly, still feeling uncomfortable around the woman. She didn't like him in the slightest, so Harry was acting cautious, barely touching the tea or food in front of him. He'd taken a tiny sip to start, but now, every time he picked up his cup, he pretended to take a drink of it, vanishing it wandlessly bit by bit.

"Oh yes! I can't wait, I've already begun-" The woman was cut off by a throaty cough that startled him, reaching and gulping down some tea. She spluttered into the cup as another cough shook her, and Harry placed his own cup down.

"Are you alright, Sister?"

"Yes, I'm-" She coughed again, dabbing delicately at the corner of her mouth. Harry frowned.

"Are you sure?"

She waved her hand flippantly. "Yes, yes, I'm healthy as can be. I only had a health check the other day, so it should be nothing to worry about. Perhaps it's the cakes." Patricia took another long, purposeful drag of tea, and Harry squinted at the red shine on the corner of her lip.

"Sister, I think-"

The Concubine slammed her cup down. "As I said, my health check reported that I'm in perfect health-" She was cut off this time by a fit of coughing, severe enough to shake the table. The maid by her side fluttered close, holding her mistress's shoulders and asking after her in concern. When Patricia finally lifted her head again, there was blood covering her lips, a pool of it resting in her handkerchief. They both stared down at it in shock.

"Sister-"

She gasped loudly, meeting his wide eyes with her own, a spark of hatred igniting within them. "You've- You've poisoned me!?" The woman suddenly yelled, devolving into another round of coughing that had her hunching over. Harry's blood ran cold at her loud accusation. 

"I-I can assure you I haven't-"

"Assure me? Look, look! Look at my handkerchief, blood! See? My Healer said I was perfectly healthy as of a few days ago, and now I'm coughing blood!? Oh, call a healer, a healer!" The woman flopped back into her maid's arms, another rushing off with speed. "My baby, it's about my baby I know it! He's jealous that I'm carrying a son, the spiteful man! Get the Emperor!"

"Sister-"

"Don't call me Sister with that foul mouth of yours! I didn't think you had it in you, but just look at this! Where's the healer? Oh, my baby, I'm going to lose my baby!" She wailed some more, devolving into gasping wheezes that made Harry's heart lurch. He simply sat there, frozen in place, as he watched her maid tend to her the best she could.

The maid kept looking at him, eyes wide, dabbing gently at her mistress' lips as blood continued to spittle out as she hacked. She seemed to be anxiously waiting for something, but as he remained sitting there, rigid, she grew increasingly worried.

A horde of footsteps could be heard, and Harry shakily turned his head. There was the maid that had rushed off, and behind her, the Emperor, followed by a group of Eunuchs and Knights, along with a few concubines. An especially harried-looking healer was being bodily dragged along, a large case in her hands.

"What is the meaning of this?" The Emperor's voice bellowed throughout the Pavillion. He looked mutinous as he surveyed the area, eyes lingering on the blood, the spilt tea, and Harry's pale white face. His attention focused on Patricia, who, at the sound of his voice, had straightened from her slouch to call his name. "Healer, treat her immediately, I want to know what's going on."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Your Majesty! Arrest him, he's poisoned me, that wretch is trying to kill our son!" Patricia yelled, sounding breathless and she wheezed and spluttered.

Thomas strode closer, looming over their sitting forms. Harry could barely focus on him, eyes fixed on the blood still dripping from the Concubine's mouth, the way she threw her head back and thrashed as the Healer approached, screaming and shouting at him to 'save her son!', for the Emperor to 'punish him immediately'. It was like he was watching a drama play out before his eyes, but instead, it was his reality.

"-cubine. Harry!"

The Emperor's sharp voice brought him out of his reverie, and he looked up jerkily. The man was staring down at him, eyes blazing. Harry shook, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth in dawning horror.

"I-I-I didn't-" His voice shook like it never had before. "I-I didn't-" A heavy hand landed on Harry's shoulder, jostling him slightly. The Emperor drew closer, face still blank, eyes searching.

"I'm going to need you to calm down, Harry."

Patricia's voice cut into their bubble. "Calm down, calm down! He's poisoned me! I'm the one who needs you-"

"Silence!" He roared, face twisting. "Healer, what's your verdict?"

With a grave expression, the Healer turned to the Emperor. "She has indeed been poisoned, Your Majesty. It is a concoction supposed to attack the recipient's organs, resulting in coughing up blood, and can, in severe cases, cause miscarriage. But I can confirm that the worst of it has passed, it is fast acting, but Her Highness' magic was strong enough to fight it off."

"Hah, see!" The Concubine crowed, sitting straighter now that the danger had seemingly passed. Her breath was still wheezy, but she was no longer coughing blood like she had been minutes before. "That little bastard poisoned me! I knew it, he was jealous all along, and see what's happened now. I wonder, has it been him behind Sister Jasmine and Erin's-"

"Enough." The Emperor's tone was steely, but Patricia boldly ignored him, speaking to the growing crowd that was forming.

"It's so obviously clear, Your Majesty. He needs to be locked away, far from-"

"You're smirking, Patricia." 

"-What?"

"I believe we need to get you both settled within your own Palaces. I will be conducting an investigation into this." His voice brokered no argument, nodding to a pair of Knights who were closest to him. They moved, shuffling back the crowd, demanding for them to return to their duties.

"Your Majesty, how could you think there's anything behind this? And what do you mean by 'you're smirking'? Are you blaming me, do you think I'd purposefully poison myself?-"

"I wouldn't put much past you, Patricia. Now remain silent, my Knights will escort you back to your Palace. And when I come to talk with you later, you will tell me the truth of this matter, and I will decide on the punishments. If I find you have willingly placed my children in danger- either of you-" He shot a look at Harry, who still felt numb as he watched the proceedings dully, "Then there will be severe consequences. Severe. Now get out of my sight."

"Thomas, how can you treat me so coldly? I've just been poisoned, are you truly going to side with that man? Thomas!"

He ignored her, grabbing Harry by his arm and hauling him to his feet. Perhaps the gesture was supposed to be one of support, but Harry stumbled as he was righted too quickly, hunching over with a groan. He gagged, feeling bile rise in his throat as blood thundered in his ears.

"Steady, steady." The man held him tightly by his arms, guiding him forward.

"I-I-" Harry stuttered as they began walking, stumbling, away from the table. "I didn't-"

"Shush, my Concubine, the truth will be revealed."

"She's framing me." He shakily whispered, shoulders bunched up to his ears. Harry's throat was dry, and it felt like there was a rock lodged within it. He couldn't get his voice out, no matter how much he wanted to clearly defend himself. The situation was dire, yet he couldn't even finish a sentence. "Why would- I wouldn't-" Harry fell silent as the Emperor continued to guide him, eyesight hazy.

"We will speak more back at your Palace."

He waved all the maids away, ordering for one of them to fetch him a drink- not tea. Thomas settled Harry on the sofa, observing the way the man continued to shiver as if he had been doused with icy water.

The maid- Anya, he recalled. Harry always sent her to him to arrange their meetings. She was his Head maid. Loyal.- handed him the cup of juice she had prepared for her master. Astute. He wanted nobody approaching his husband except him whilst he was in such a vulnerable state. Thomas waved her away as well, and she hesitantly obliged, but he could feel her aura hovering right outside of the doors.

He approached Harry slowly, settling next to him and taking one smaller, shaky hand within his own. In the man's shock, their skin colours almost matched, and Thomas circled his palm with his thumb in an attempt to soothe.

He was conflicted about how to do so. His expertise in the area of 'comforting' was minimal. It was much easier with his children, whom he could simply bribe with gifts to get them to calm down. He could do no such thing in a situation such as this. Thomas snarled wordlessly at the reminder.

Patricia was a downright nasty woman when she wanted to be. She had to be, to have remained in his Harem for so long. She had been part of the first generation, back when the only reason he began taking spouses was to create a stable bloodline so that the Slytherin name would never again die out. It was a ruthless time, before Thomas implemented many of the rules that existed today. Many died, and he couldn't find it in himself to care when they did. They had been a means to an end, even his so-called 'favoured'. That had fortunately changed as he settled, thinking more before acting, taking better care of what was his. But the scars of his previous attitude still clearly showed with how the early members of his Harem interacted with the others.

Patricia targeted others using herself and the children she bore, never leaving physical evidence on others to draw the blame back to herself. Once, he had been blinded by her, excusing her actions as a natural process to eliminate the weak from his Harem. Now, his spouses were his. They weren't hers to scheme about.

No, he didn't believe for one minute, unless his husband was the world's greatest liar, that this poisoning had anything to do with the man. It had Patricia's dirty fingerprints all over it. The smirk she had hidden behind the bloodied handkerchief, her immediate finger pointing as if the culprit had already been chosen in her mind, the way she had screamed and yelled about a poison, despite being immune to many and one of the wariest women he knew. Patricia would never drink tea prepared by others. That teapot was her own, a stupid miscalculation on her part.

He had gifted similar to all of his upper Harem members, but he always made sure they had dissimilarities for cases such as this one.

However, the fact that she had done such a thing whilst carrying the son she had desperately wished for was something that didn't fit in with that scenario. And Patricia was truly a smart woman, would she target his heavily pregnant husband whilst pregnant with a son herself, putting that child in danger of truly being affected by the poison?

He was just glad he'd had the foresight to dose his husband with a variety of antidotes beforehand.

By his side, Harry let out a heavy, shuddering breath. The man was still shaking, although he no longer looked so shellshocked, that haunted look in his eyes one Thomas never wanted to see again.

"I feel sick." He looked it as well. In contrast to his usually healthy pallor, his skin was pale and clammy, the hand in his own slick with sweat.

"I will have your Healer called for. For my peace of mind, and yours, you need to be checked over. Such stress is not good for your body, especially whilst pregnant."

The man hummed, leaning closer to him. Thomas had his Healer sent for, and they sat in silence for a few minutes, before Harry's small voice broke it.

"You truly believe me? I didn't do it, I wouldn't. I don't have much ill will against her, not enough to do something as heinous as this." Unlike his previous, stricken pleading, his voice sounded sullen now, disbelieving.

"The truth will come out. But I do believe you." His head shot up, eyes filling with hope. "That poison is not one that can be prepared so hastily. I heard that Patricia only invited you for tea this morning."

"She did. She was all smiles, it was unusual. Now..."

He pressed a kiss to the top of the man's head, shocking himself with the care he was exhibiting, but he hid that from his Concubine as he looked up at him in awe.

A knock on the door broke the moment. "Enter." He called, tensing slightly.

A woman entered and bowed lowly, and Thomas beckoned her forward as he noticed the emblem on her robes denoting her as Harry's healer.

"Check him over, a full inspection."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The woman acquiesced, kneeling to hover her hands and wand over his concubine, focusing especially on his stomach area.

"Is anything the matter?" He spoke after a short while, having watched the proceedings like a hawk.

The Healer drew back, still bowing her head. "His Highness' blood pressure is a bit high for my liking, and the baby seems restless."

"The baby's hurt?" Harry shot up, grabbing at her hands.

"Oh no, Your Highness! The baby is well, it is more you I am worried about currently. We need to get your blood pressure down, otherwise, I'm afraid I will have to start worrying about your child."

"What do you recommend?"

"For now, His Highness needs to relax. You need rest and lots of it. I have half a mind to put you on bed rest. Something such as this could send you into labour early."

"Then It shall be done," Thomas spoke with finality. Harry didn't even refuse, his hands clutched over his now heavily swollen belly. He was nearly thirty-four weeks along now, only weeks off of his due date, if that. Their baby could come later on today if the Healer's warnings rang true.

Patricia had been exceedingly rash and idiotic with targeting Harry whilst he was so far along. If he did begin labouring early, Thomas didn't know what he would do in retaliation.

The woman was carrying his child, a son if she was to be believed. He couldn't harm her in any way, his conscience wouldn't allow anything of the sort. That didn't exclude her from punishment, however. Depending on how forthcoming she would be concerning this matter when he questioned her later- he foresaw a battle of wills he wasn't in the mood for- it could go either way.

However, currently, Thomas was needed by his husband's side to watch over him and assure himself that the man was safe.