Intimacy

27th February 2001- Tuesday

Anya carefully prepped the tea as she heard His Highness arrive back at the Palace. She kept a mindful eye on it from the teapot to the cup, checking as she went that every item and utensil was untampered with and poison-free.

Ever since His Highness had been poisoned for so long under her care, a shameful occurrence that she would never forgive herself for, Anya had been stringent on inspecting everything the man consumed and interacted with, especially his pillow. That method of poisoning, even she had been shocked by. She did the same with His Highness' children, not allowing any assigned maids into their nursery or to interact with them more than was necessary. Their food was prepped by the trusted Maia only, and even then, still checked by either herself or other maids that had been hired by the Potter Family.

They were necessary precautions, however. There hadn't been any attempts since the last, the perpetrators perhaps scared off due to the Emperor's swiftness to execute those he found, or biding their time. But Anya was of the belief that there would be another attempt at some point. His Highness had too many enemies who would wish for his downfall for an inability to produce more heirs, an incurable illness, or perhaps even a wish for his death.

Therefore, she would continue to be overly cautious until there was a reason not to, and from the current climate in the Harem, that would be a long time coming, perhaps with the death of the perpetrators themselves.

Harry sighed as he collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted already despite the early hour. Anya rushed to fan him, Kia bringing along a tray of tea and biscuits, and he smiled gratefully up at them both. Meeting with Thomas had energised him at first, but as the morning meeting had dragged on, far past the hour mark due to Penny's bragging about her pregnancy and the seemingly never-ending complaints of several other Harem members of His Majesty's apparent avoidance of them (blamed on Harry for some reason, although not directly), he was drained of all his energy.

His children's giggles drew him from his thoughts, and tiredly, Harry rolled his head to stare over at them. The sight of them playing happily together made him relax, grinning fondly.

Over six months old now, the twins were crawling around clumsily and grasping at the various toys strewn over the floor, entranced by bright colours and happy to entertain themselves for as long as they were awake. Of course, their favourite thing to do still was stare at each other, or watch Alsie's movements with growing interest. They seemed to have gained some control over their metamorphmagi abilities as well, purposefully switching their hair colour to make the other laugh, or to mimic Harry and their older sister.

It made Harry both proud and teary to see them growing and evolving. They'd be walking soon, he knew it, saw it in the way they watched Alsie as she toddled about the room on ever-growing steadier feet with rapt attention. Harry would be glad when they did. It would give them more independence and the ability to interact with their sister more, and perhaps truly have playdates with their half-siblings of a similar age.

Alsie was also growing stronger and acting more boldly as she steadily approached her second birthday. It was still months out, but already, she was completely unrecognisable from the tiny infant who had turned one six months before. She was speaking more clearly now, connecting words and not simply babbling.

Seeing his children advancing so much stirred something within him. An urge he hadn't felt since before the twins were born. To expand his family.

But would Thomas agree? Was he not displeased with Penny's fourth child? It confused him. The man had seemed to be open to having many children when they had talked at the beginning of their marriage. Had that changed? Or did the Emperor's feelings only extend towards Penny having a fourth child?

They would need to talk about this matter. Not today, but soon. It was a difficult and nerve-wracking topic to broach due to Harry's fear of refusal. He didn't know if he'd be able to keep a brave face if Thomas confirmed his fears.

8th March 2001- Thursday

Hermione ran a shaky hand through her hair as she sighed exhaustedly, stuck on what to write next. She was in the Library, pouring over a mountain of books and stressing over one of her many end-of-year essays. She'd be finishing her second year at the University soon, and whilst she was glad for the challenge, she hadn't expected the uptick in pace from Hogwarts and even her first year. Never mind that there were other worries to keep her mind occupied in tandem with the usual exam stress. Hermione had never done well when it came time for exams, as her friend could attest to.

With Harry off, braving the snake pit which was the Emperor's Harem, she had been left alone to fend off those who believed she shouldn't have a place within their university due to her blood status. As the only Muggleborn to make her way into the University, Hermione was the representative of a new era, one where Muggleborns could enter into areas previously barred to them. It was exhilarating and made her proud, but it also placed a target on her head.

She didn't blame Harry for dropping his education to pursue his ambitions, especially as they were to aid his family, although she did disagree with his choice of endeavour. It hurt Hermione to think that Harry was now a part of the system that had labelled Muggleborns like her as lesser. He was married to the Dark Lord, the man who had subjugated the world under his rule, for Merlin's sake! And from what she had seen, her friend appeared to truly have feelings for the Emperor.

She had known Harry was not as smart as she was, but for him to be so gullible? It was unlike him. Her strong-headed, opinionated, kind-hearted friend was not fit for a place as structured as the Harem, let alone to be the Head of such an institution. However, it was like him to fall for a pretty face.

Cedric, his now co... husband? Was one that came to mind immediately. Harry had been infatuated by his looks and personality for a while, before it had petered out. Cho had been another, the girl incredibly pretty, but Hermione had always had the suspicion she wasn't as into men as people assumed. Harry had also gushed about Draco a few times, although that was usually followed by him calling the man a git or other choice names. So no, Hermione was not surprised Harry had fallen yet again for another pretty face.

But that face being the Emperor's? Could her friend be any more unreasonable? He was a madman, the madman, and not someone Hermione had envisioned her friend falling for, not with the hero complex he'd always possessed. Harry must be being manipulated in some way.

It was absurd that she was barely making it through University unscathed while he was in the Harem, already on his third child, allowing himself to be exploited in such a way. Frankly, she was disappointed. Unsurprised, but still disgruntled.

She should be there by his side, protecting him, but Hermione knew she couldn't have forced herself through the Selection. Even if there was a chance she would have been chosen, with her only connection to upper society being Harry himself, she could never stomach placing herself anywhere near the aberration that was their Emperor.

A bang had Hermione raising her head from where she was focused intently on her Ministry Dynamics essay, a glare already furrowing her brows. Across the Library, the main doors had been thrown open carelessly, with no regard for the others studying within. They had crashed into the walls, possibly damaging them from the force used, obviously done by magical strength. A group of giggling students came strutting in after, dressed in the dark purple robes that marked them as students of the Society.

Hermione had never been so envious when she had heard of the elite group of students who were permitted access to opportunities unavailable to the rest of the alumni. That she had never heard of its existence before joining the University only cemented the difference in social circles that she and those able to join frequented. It had been thought up by the children of the highest of society, and put into practice when the University had opened its doors, its status and existence solidified by generous donations from their families, ensuring the Society remained exclusive and influential.

The Society was only for those of a certain status and intelligence, although that was mostly a front. Hermione knew she had the knowledge to join, she was one of the brightest of her age, frequently gaining the top marks available in her classes whilst some of them sat comfortably in the middle of the pack. When she had inquired about joining last year, or taking a test to see if she succeeded, the girl she had questioned had simply laughed in her face and walked off. Obviously, it was by invitation only, and for what Hermione made up for in smarts, she severely lacked in social status.

Ever since, she had held a slight grudge against the privileged few who were granted access.

And now, at the centre of the giggling group, stood the First Princess of the Empire, Evana Slytherin, the Emperor's first child and daughter. They were both in their Second year together, although on different curricular paths, so Hermione saw her very rarely ever since the university had opened in 1999. Especially since she was one of the few students entitled to leave the campus at whim, to go back to her husband's country or on official business. Hermione wondered how she was passing, and then snorted at such a thought. Of course, she was, Hermione doubted the professors were allowed to fail her.

The woman had recently married a Prince, one from the Italian Royal Family that Hermione had no idea existed, and everyone knew of the Princess' pregnancy by now, with the Emperor's first grandchild. How could they not? The woman flaunted it wherever she went now that the news had been officially released. The way people practically fell at the woman's feet these days, as if she was carrying a god, made Hermione feel ill.

She couldn't help but to think back to Harry, and if he had ever had to deal with her, because Princess Evana's personality left much to desire.

The group followed the Princess further into the Library, settling together in the corner where the plush sofas remained open specifically for them. They were loud, ignorant to or purposefully ignoring the disturbance they were creating. Hermione could see out of the corner of her eye many fellow researchers packing up their materials to leave. She debated doing so as well, hesitating when she realised most if not all the other students were making their way to the exit.

She really needed to get this essay done, however, and the book she was reading was for library use only...

A loud bark of laughter startled Hermione, and she looked over at the group again, watching as the Princess lounged back, her legs propped up on the table. The girl next to her was whispering something in her ears, and their eyes met Hermione's for a moment.

Shelving the book hurriedly, Hermione sighed as she shoved everything into her bag and headed for the door. There were some battles even she would not pick.

Hermione could only hope that Harry truly did have the Emperor's ear, because from the royal children she had met so far, they didn't leave the best of impressions, neither did they promote the royal family well. His were perhaps the only hope she had for supporting the royal family in the future, and as she aspired to become the Minister for Magic, being in disagreement with them could only cause issues.

15th March 2001- Thursday

Elson bowed deeply as he entered His Majesty's office, clutching a small bag in his hands. The man waved him forward, shoving the papers he had been working on to the side as he stared at the bag. It rattled as he placed it on the man's desk, tipping it over to reveal its contents. A dozen small gems spilt out, each with a wing carved onto its front face, a recognisable symbol etched on the other. His Majesty picked one of the tiny pieces up, observing it.

"You have done well, Elson. I presume their owners have been taken care of?"

"There was some resistance, Your Majesty, so several are deceased, and more injured. Those still alive have been taken to the cells, as you requested."

"As long as I have witnesses alive, that is all that matters." The gem clattered back onto the desk as the Emperor dropped it with disgust, and Elson quickly swept them back into the bag, tucking it away. "Make sure to send them to the Department for observation. Were there any unforeseen circumstances on your trip?"

"There appears to be encampments forming, Your Majesty, filled with rebels who agree with the Order's sentiments. The people are weak, but their numbers are growing by the day. There may need to be a demonstration of the Empire's strength soon, to douse this uprising before it turns into a rebellion."

The man looked up at him with amusement shining in his red eyes. "I am well aware, Elson. I have dealt with many such situations as this before."

Elson nodded, despite having more to say. He knew that if the situation got worse, the Emperor truly would act on his words, but the man was hard to understand these days. He seemed to relish in the rising tensions, his mood only dampened when he was reminded of what was now at stake. His children, and the only concubine he seemed to truly favour.

Elson had many of the Knights under his command watching the Potter's these days, and those closely associated with them, for any sign that they were in contact with the rebellion. So far, only the Weasleys seemed to be getting drawn into the action, and they could no longer be considered close associates to the Potters as of several years ago. Still, the Emperor reminded him to stay vigilant. His concubine's family could not be swayed, or the man would have to take action that would sour their relationship.

"Concerning the Harem, Your Majesty, today is the Consort Meeting. Would you like me to tail the Nobles once again, to see if any attempt to eavesdrop, or are having their own meetings?"

"No. Today, keep an eye on that meeting for me, Elson, and report back if anything inflammatory is said."

Elson nodded, already debating the ways he was going to enter the guarded Pavilion. "Yes, Your Majesty. Of all parties?"

The Emperor smirked darkly, his eyes glowing as he clearly imagined a scenario in his head. "Of course, I will find it most amusing to hear of what my Noble Consort comes up with in response to any remarks, he has quite the temper."

He camouflaged himself in plain sight for ease of access to the Consort Meeting, posing as one of the unfortunate Eunuchs who'd had the pleasure of getting on His Majesty's bad side and walked away unable to utter a word, their tounges taken and mouths sewn shut. It allowed him to stand next to the Consorts as they took their tea, as they were assured he could not spread what was said, making sure they were undisturbed by wandering lower concubines who were too curious for their own good.

"Brother, may I be so bold as to ask what you and His Majesty have been discussing in the mornings as of late?" Consort Penny Haywood questioned, smiling self-deprecatingly. "I do so miss communicating with him so often, it is a part of being Head of the Harem that makes the work oh so worth it. Don't you agree, Sister Bellatrix?"

His Majesty's favoured spouse appeared unenthusiastic to be receiving her attention, placing his tea down with a sigh. Elson observed the man with interest, as he was so unusually open with his emotions.

"It is Sister Penny," Consort Bellatrix Black agreed. "I, too, am curious, and wondering why you are not involved in these meetings, Sister. You used to invite me when you were the Head, and I, my Secondary when I was the Head." The Consort was clearly sneering at the Noble Consort, who appeared uncomfortable.

Consort Penny hummed, feining veiled hurt as she pretended to diffuse the situation. "Sister, that is because we are close. I am sure that in the future, when me and Brother Harry settle our differences, he will be content to share his duties as is standard."

"Perhaps not, Consort." The Noble Consort sighed, feigning hurt himself. "I was so... upset when I was not involved as the Secondary Consort, as I should have been, that I truly do not know If I wish to include you. My apologies, but I do quite enjoy the private chats me and His Majesty take. They are so... intimate, I do not wish to ruin that, and I believe His Majesty would be quite displeased if I shared our conversations. You understand, Sisters? After all, you both enjoyed the same privilege." The man waved his hand, and a maid rushed forward to fill up his cup as he pretended to ignore the now visibly fuming Consort Bellatrix and frowning Consort Penny. The other two Consorts seemed vaguely amused when he observed them, and Elson filed that away to inform His Majesty. He would be pleased to know his favourite had powerful allies.

"Well, I believe that is fair," Consort Regulus Black spoke, receiving a poisonous glare from his Cousin. "None of us have ever been privy to the private morning meetings, only on the rare occasion we would be invited. Let us move on from this topic, I can see that it is dampening the mood of this meeting."

Consort Penny brightened a little as she leaned forward, grinning happily. "Then, I wish to share a little news that I am sure will bring joy. My Healer has confirmed that my baby is still growing strong and healthy! I am so glad, but oh, I can't wait for the day to hold my newest little Prince in my arms."

The mention of a Prince had Elson's attention heightened, and he discreetly watched the woman, waiting for her to incriminate herself further.

"Prince? You know the gender, Consort Penny?" Consort Isla Laurier asked sharply, her eyebrows furrowed.

The Consort in question tilted her head slightly, smiling serenely, acting as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "No, although a woman can hope. I have two daughters already, I would love to give Rastus a true brother as well." She explained, although Elson, and those surrounding her, clearly did not believe that to be the truth.

It was yet another misstep to report to His Majesty, who would surely be pleased to receive the news, after he had finished with his anger at his word yet again being ignored.

23rd March 2001- Friday

Cho stared at the awkwardly smiling man across from her with a small frown marring her features, put out at his presence. She hadn't expected the other concubine to come knocking so early, or at all, but had to invite him in on the grounds that he outranked her, even though Cho knew Cedric was not the type to be stringent on formality.

"Why are you here, Brother Diggory?" She questioned him shortly, continuing to stir her tea after a few moments. She had sent her maids away so that they could talk in private, and the man had followed her example, sending his away as well. Cho had hoped that would help settle the atmosphere, but it had only succeeded in making the situation even more awkward and uncomfortable.

It was an odd thing, to talk to your ex whilst you were both part of another man's Harem.

"Call me Cedric, Cho." The man tried for the second time, pleadingly, and she sighed.

"Call me Chang, Brother Diggory." The man made a noise that she ignored, sipping at her tea.

"Don't be like that, Ch- Sister Chang," Cedric huffed, looking like a kicked puppy. "We've known each other for years! I know it might be awkward because we dated, but we're both older now, and members of His Majesty's Harem. We can't go on ignoring each other forever."

"I could," Cho replied, finally meeting his eyes. "Quite easily. We have barely interacted up until now, and it's been months since I joined. Surely we can continue doing the same. I'm not asking for much, Brother Diggory," She stated seriously. "But I am asking to be left in peace. People already know of our previous relationship, and that should be enough. I don't want my past to continue to hinder me, especially if you continue to insist on interacting with me. I am here to do a duty, nothing more."

To her horror, Cho worried that the man may cry as his lips turned down into a frown. He rolled his shoulders, trying to compose himself. "I understand that, but..." Cedric groaned, a hand coming up to cup his face. "If everyone already knows, why bother ignoring each other? As you said, we parted amicably, surely we can continue to be so? Would it be so strange, for past friends to remain civil, even allies within the Harem?"

Cho sighed, placing her cup down with a clack that had the man flinching slightly. "I... I suppose usbeing civil would raise the least eyebrows. But you must remember the position that I am in. You of all people know that I am not exactly the ideal sort of person to be in a Harem. A man's Harem. And I am incredibly lowly ranked. My position is precarious."

"I will help you!" The man leaned forward to clasp her hand, and Cho fought not to withdraw, wrinkling her nose. "You know I would! I've always seen us as friends, even after we... ended things. Let me help you solidify your position."

She stared at him, internally feeling sorry for the man. He was making promises he could not keep, because he, too, was in an uncertain position. Ever since she had joined, Cho had sensed that everything within this Harem was very unbalanced. Those in the lower ranks never progressed, and those in the higher only widened the gap between them. Only one concubine had succeeded in breaking that barrier in recent years, but he had firmly closed the door behind him. Noble Consort Potter held all of His Majesty's attention, and while Cho was glad she did not have to force herself to be in the Emperor's company, she agreed that the man was oblivious to the wreckage that had become the Harem. It barely functioned as it should any more, and if nothing changed soon, something would surely explode.

Either he would fall, spectacularly, or the whole institution would implode on itself.

Cho seemed much colder than the last time they had interacted, before the Harem. She had been a bubbly, bright girl who accepted their break up with ease that spoke of relief. That Cho had wanted to remain friends, and asked for him to write to her once he entered the Harem, which he had done so, until she had left him hanging.

Cedric had thought they'd parted amicably, realising neither was whom the other wanted, despite their reciprocal fondness. But, clearly, that was not the case. Somewhere, somehow, their relationship had deteriorated to the point where she was hesitant to even call him an ally, despite the advantages it would bring her. He outranked her largely, it shouldn't have even taken more than a moment of consideration to accept. And Cedric knew a thing or two about allying with the most beneficial concubines possible.

It had benefitted him greatly to remain on good terms with Harry after the man's entrance to the Harem. They had not been the closest in their school years, but they had interacted enough that it was not unusual for Cedric to have approached him when they were both Nobles, requesting for there to be an amicable relationship between them, perhaps something that could be classed as allyship. And now, with Harry being Head of the Harem, the only Noble Consort and His Majesty's favoured concubine, Cedric was eternally grateful for his foresight. That Cedric had never publicly gone against Penny either was beneficial to him, as it allowed him to remain as neutral as possible, an advantage in the current tense climate.

but Cho had only reluctantly accepted his offer. It hurt, truly. He did not know if he could look at her the same way again. It felt the same as when Harry had outranked him, and never looked back until he was close enough to the top that Cedric could not besmirch him. A sort of betrayal that stung.

Why had Cho even joined the Harem? She was the Heir to her House, like him, but she'd had a bright future in front of her. Cedric had been a disappointment from the moment it turned out he was gay. On the other hand, Cho's parents had accepted her for who she was, and helped her in her endeavours. So why had she thrown that future away to haunt him where he had run to get away from all that responsibility?

Looking back, he watched as Cho resumed reading in the same position he had found her, not bothering to see him out. Instead, a maid followed him with a small gift basket, thanking him for visiting her mistress. He smiled wanly down at the woman, his own maid accepting the gift graciously.

He felt empty when the door shut in his face, pondering whether this visit had been worth it. It surely had revealed some things.

2nd April 2001- Monday

The training dummy across the hall burst into purple flames at Harry's whispered incantation, its reactive shield magic too slow to save it from disintegrating within a matter of moments. He watched as it crumbled alike the others before it, smiling happily to himself. The spell was even more effective and destructive than the book had implied, perhaps even too deadly to use at the Tournament. Still, it was a good spell to have in the back of his mind if needed, a fire easier to control than fiendfyre, but only moderately less powerful.

Would Harry have ever had the chance to learn such a spell if they were still under the oppressive light regime that banned every spell they had been using for centuries simply because it did not meet its stringent standards? From the book he had found this spell in, Harry doubted he would have.

He moved on to the next mannequin, humming thoughtfully for a few moments, before methodically waving his wand in the motion he remembered the book conveying. Nothing happened for a few moments, and Harry thought his first try had failed, before icicles began to climb up the dummy's legs, stopping at its knees. Not bad for a first attempt. Before he could continue, however, slow clapping sounded from behind him, and Harry spun around, startled.

His husband was striding towards him, having entered the training field silently, his expression bright. Thomas came to a stop before the ashes of the mannequin, observing its remnants with intrigue. "Quite a destructive spell. Are you planning to use such within the tournament? I believe the organisers would be quite... put out if you disintegrated one of your opponents." It was said teasingly as the Emperor shifted the ashes with his foot.

"I wasn't planning to. I'm simply practising. It's good to have something destructive and unexpected up my sleeve." Harry replied, watching intently as the man stalked closer to him.

"It is," Thomas murmured, his voice barely heard from across the training area. "Very impressive, my dear. How would you feel about a duel?"

The man's sudden question blanked Harry's mind for a moment as it registered, and he realised the implications. "Between us? Is that- Is that allowed?"

Thomas smiled sharkishly. "Could anyone disagree?"

No, no they could not. Harry gave an answering grin, eager. It wasn't every day that you had the pleasure of duelling perhaps the strongest opponent possible in the world. He crouched a little, ready to receive whatever the man threw at him, but Thomas simply stood there, his wand not even drawn. "Aren't you going to start, Thomas?"

"No," The man responded shortly. When Harry blinked, he continued. "This is more so I can make an accurate reading of your strength. If I were to attack aggressively, there wouldn't be much time for you to shine. Start, Harry."

After a moment of indecision, Harry decided to begin with a mild Stinging Hex, not aiming to cause the man any damage, followed up quickly by a sharper one. Both didn't meet their target, redirected a metre before, then hitting into a ward Harry hadn't realised had gone up around the area. He stared at the rippling wall of magic for a second, before grinning.

Sending off yet another hex, he layered a slightly more destructive spell underneath, one that would burn the target's fingers specifically, hidden under the stronger aura of a joke spell which would turn a person's hands green. Both didn't meet their target, but Harry was undeterred, sending off spell after spell which were all redirected.

Slowly but surely, the ever-growing aggression and magic he placed into each spell caught up to him, and he was panting. Not exhausted, Harry's magic reserves were deeper than he could drain, but throwing spell after spell at an opponent and having none of them connect was draining mentally and physically. Harry wiped his arm across his forehead, straightening.

This made Thomas smile, and Harry only had a split second to throw himself to the side whilst also pitching up a shield before a dark blue spell came dancing his way. It swerved at him, fizzling out against his shield, although the magic put up an intense fight, taking the shield down with it as it dispersed in a shower of sparks. Harry stared at the space before him, stunned, eyes flitting up to look incredulously at his husband.

"What was that for? I thought we were done!"

"I have completed my observation of your spellcasting skills. I am impressed, I felt my shield warp a few times there. With a little more finesse, and a true desire to harm, you may have taken it down."

Harry glared at the man, taking a step forward. "I have no plans of harming you, even if I know you could dodge or block my spells. You are my husband."

"Ah, so is that it? You would be able to send spells with deadly force at the strangers you meet at the Tournament? Because that is what some of them will be coming at you with, Harry. Not as powerful as me, of course, but they will be aiming to harm. And I cannot have you just take it, or I will not allow you to compete. Show me that you can fight back with as much force. I will give you another chance. Start again."

"I- I can't Thomas. Even the thought of possibly hitting you with one of my spells..." Harry trailed off, stepping back as the Emperor's eyes darkened.

"Then, I shall test you on your defence instead. If you can block several of my spells in a row, you may proceed. Fail, and you will have to battle me until you can, for as long as it may take." Before Harry could draw another breath, a sickly yellow spell came whizzing his way faster than the first, missing his shoulder by a hair's breadth.

Harry yelp as he span away, eyes wide, quickly throwing up a shield, then another, both broken apart from the strength of the next spell the Emperor sent his way. Harry met his husband's eyes for a split second, flinching backwards at their intense red colour, adrenaline and fear filling him.

Was this what Thomas' enemies felt going against him? How did they stand it?

Harry panted in exhaustion as he collapsed onto the bench, too tired to cast even a simple refreshing spell. After their impromptu duel had ended, Thomas finally satisfied and Harry appropriately humbled, his husband had guided him to the nearest Pavilion to rest.

A cool sensation rushed over Harry, and he sighed in relief as the dampness of his skin and clothes vanished. "Thank you," He whispered, struggling to sit up straighter as his husband took the seat next to him.

"You did well, my dear. I am impressed that you lasted so long. You might just win it all if you can simply outlast your opponents, you have the reserves to do so." The Emperor complimented, and Harry smiled up at him tiredly. "Still, I hope to see you win with your spell casting. That is what those recommending you for a Mastery will be judging on." They relaxed into companionable silence for a few minutes, simply watching the clouds pass overhead and the first signs of the oncoming spring blooming in the vast gardens surrounding the Pavilion.

It was just like Harry's mind to wander onto unsavoury topics in content moments, however, and the urge to ask his questions had him breaking the silence. "Thomas," Harry hedged. "If I ask you a question, could you be truthful with me? No sugar coating your answer, or lying for my sake, I want to hear the truth of it."

His husband watched him with assessing eyes, his head tilted slightly. Such an intense look was daunting to be under, but Harry held firm. "Of course, my dear. I rarely explicitly lie."

"I- Well, I've had something on my mind for a little while now. It is about the children. Ours."

"Are they well?" Thomas was quick to question, and Harry rushed to reassure him. "Then what have you had on your mind?"

"Do-" Harry hesitated, sucking in a quick breath. "You have been... unenthusiastic regarding Sister Penny's current pregnancy. Is it, do you not wish for four children from one concubine? Or is it the amount of pregnancies? Or..." His voice trailed off, unable to continue.

Thomas's grip on his hand was firm and reassuring, grounding him for the conversation to come. "I wish for as many children with you as you are willing to provide, my dear. If we are blessed with more, I will be overjoyed. If we are to remain parents to only our three current children, I shall be content and cherish them. You do not lust for power through our children as many of my concubines do, Harry, and therefore, I trust you explicitly with them. If you are wanting another..." His lips pressed firmly to the back of Harry's hand. "Then you shall not find me disagreeing, but most keen."

11th April 2001- Wednesday

Thomas squeezed Harry's hand one last time before he entered the room, the cries of his newly born child loud and echoing into the hallway. There were sighs and cooes from the other concubines, and Harry let out his own sigh of relief, if for another reason. At least Penny couldn't flaunt her pregnancy any more.

It was a lot harder to flaunt a newborn, who needed to be cared for appropriately without exposing them to many outside sources, and caring for them meant that their needs came before yours.

Harry gestured for the other concubines to stand, which they did so quickly, clamouring forward until they were almost pushing in front of him. Harry sent them an unimpressed glare, but they were all chattering too excitedly to take much notice.

"Oh, I wonder what the baby is? I bet the child is a girl, Penny has always been so doting towards her daughters!" Alecto spoke feverishly, fiddling with one of her hair ornaments.

Harry snorted internally, thinking immediately back to Cecilia's birthday party not too long ago. She had surely not shown any doting towards her youngest daughter then.

"Well, I think it will be a sweet, little Prince. Sister Penny has two daughters, don't you think it would be poetic if she also had two sons? Especially since this seems to be the last child she will have, His Majesty has made it quite obvious that four is the limit." Jasmine tittered. "Four is an impressive amount, though! Sister Penny has done her role incredibly!"

It didn't seem as though many of the other concubines held any fondness for that thought, still blindly believing that a Prince was the preferred child to birth, that Penny would rise to unimaginable heights if she had a boy.

Only Harry knew that gender would not matter.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty, Your Highness, on the birth of the Eighth Prince. May your reign last forevermore, Your Majesty, and your newest child inherit Your immeasurable power." The midwife announced respectfully, the newly born Prince swaddled carefully in a green wrap within her arms. The woman presented the boy to his parents, smiling slightly.

Penny sat up straighter, eagerly taking the new Prince into her arms, cooing down at him. "Your Majesty, I have given you a second son." Penny presented the boy to Thomas proudly, her eyes glistening with delighted tears. Something inside of Harry ached whilst watching the scene. He wouldn't intrude, not in a moment as vulnerable as this. He could still remember how cold Penny's interruption had made him feel. Harry was not the same as her, not as cruel to rip away such a tender moment for either of them.

Thomas accepted his new son from her arms with care, cradling the Prince gently, staring down at the little Prince. The boy squirmed slightly, making tiny noises of discontent that settled quickly as the man rocked him.

"Your Majesty, what is our newest son to be named?" Penny questioned eagerly after a few moments. "I know now exactly what his middle name shall be."

"His name shall be Darius, for I hope he should grow to be a great and good wizard."

Penny nodded her head, eagerly agreeing. "And for his middle, I wish to name his Augustus, after the Roman Emperors of old, for I hope he will be as majestic as they are. Darius Augustus Slytherin, the Eighth Prince."

Her naming caused a few raised eyebrows from the other concubines, specifically her mentions of Emperor's and 'majesty', both words with bold connotations. For Harry, he noted how it was reminiscent of Julius' naming. Both of their sons had been named after Roman Emperor's, one by their Father, the other by their Mother.

"Congratulations on the birth of your son, Consort Slytherin-Haywood," Harry spoke, looking towards his husband. "It is a relief that both you and the Prince are healthy. I am sure His Majesty is most pleased to welcome his eighth son."

"I am," Thomas murmured, still staring at the tiny bundle in his arms. From what Harry could see, the baby had Penny's blonde hair, for now, tufts of blond-white hair sticking up above the blanket.

He felt Penny's stare before he looked away from the sweet moment, as the woman was practically emanating smugness. Harry met her eyes, projecting his weariness at her continued assault against him, even in a moment when she should be focused solely on her newborn. The woman didn't get the hint, lifting her chin up slightly, before looking over at the Emperor with starry eyes.

23rd April 2001- Monday

It filled Penny with great joy to invite Potter to lunch a couple of weeks later, when she had recovered mostly from the birth of her second son. She still ached, and walking was painful so she had avoided resuming attendance at the morning meetings for the time being, but the thought of finally being able to flaunt her son to the man dulled her pains enough to invite him and others to lunch.

Her Darius, the Eighth Prince, was growing well, and was the centre of her world. Born in one of the most tumultuous times Penny had suffered through so far in the Harem, he was a ray of hope. Her key to regaining her position as head of the Harem, and finally becoming a Noble Consort, the standing she had coveted since Evangeline rose to the rank posthumously in 1990. Eleven long years it had taken, but soon, Penny would certainly have accomplished her dream.

Of course, she had also invited many other concubines, a mixture of her allies, the few who were neutral, and a couple that were loyal to Potter, so that there would be an audience to his humiliation.

It felt great to once again have something to hold against the man, to allow others to compare the two of them and see which of them was truly the better fit for Head of the Harem. She was now the mother to four royal children, unmatched by every other concubine. Penny revelled in it.

Potter and his allies appeared relatively relaxed as they communicated with the more neutral concubines, and Penny's fists clenched as she realised they were ignoring her. Apart from the greetings they gave at the beginning of the tea, where Penny had made the excuse of still being sore so that she did not need to bow to the usurper, there had been little interaction between the two factions.

She cleared her throat, hoping to break the current calm atmosphere. Hopefully, if she could get Potter riled enough, and he did have a temper, then she could place the blame for the failed tea on him. Surely, that would get back to the Emperor, and it would encourage him further to place her within the top position.

Harry glanced upwards hesitantly as Penny cleared her throat, feeling the first trickles of dread after seeing the saccharine smile on her face. What could the woman be up to now?

"I thank you all for coming here today, and congratulating me on the birth of my son. I feel so incredibly grateful to have such caring Sisters and Brothers to rely on in my time of healing. I feel complete now that my fourth child has finally been born. Brother Harry, don't you, as the Head of the Harem, think that this is such a blessing? I'm sure you know that His Majesty must be delighted, as you meet with him in the mornings." The woman directed the conversation towards him, and with it, the attention of the table. He had to quickly wipe the displeased expression off of his face and smile slightly.

"You are incredibly blessed, Sister. Four children is a great feat, and His Majesty applauds you for your endeavours in restoring the Dynasty. I can only hope that I can fall pregnant once again, to share such a blessed state with you." He made sure to turn her words against her, not appreciating her intentions.

"Oh, Brother... I do not wish to judge you, so please take my words for what they are; a Sister concerned for you." Penny's face morphed into the perfect facsimile of a concerned, pitying fellow parent. "You have already given birth to three royal children in such a short span of time, you must take care of your body, lest you strain it. Please, take some time to rest, it has not even been a year since your youngest were born. Allow our Sisters and Brothers to now bear the burden and joy that is carrying His Majesty's children. You should be proud of what you have accomplished in such a short amount of time, Brother, truly, but we are concerned for your health." There were nods from those who sat nearest to Penny, their faces trying to mirror her projected concern, but their eyes told a different story. "Surely, you would wish to be in the best condition whilst carrying your next child, yes? Then take another year or two to recuperate. If His Majesty is truly so taken with you, there will be plenty of time for more children of your union in the future. My children are seven, five, three and newly born, proof that His Majesty's favour is lasting." She ended her speech with an encouraging smile, and there were noises of agreeance from several others.

"Sister Penny has the right of it Brother, you truly should rest more before you begin thinking of having another child." Felix interjected, his smile far less real-looking, although Harry thought that might be on purpose. The man had never made any attempt to pretend to be friendly, after all.

Harry sighed as he mulled over Penny's words, recognising that there was some truth to them, but also knowing that her comments were unnecessary, rude, and truly uncalled for when he had simply been expressing his congratulations and hinting that the Emperor was open to more children in the future. With Harry. Not asking for a lecture. "Whilst I do graciously accept Sister Penny's opinion on the matter, I do believe it is none of her business, to be frank. His Majesty and I recently spoke on the subject, and I can happily disclose that the Emperor expressed to me that he is eagerly awaiting our next child if I so wish for another, which I do. There is also the fact, Sister Penny, may I remind you, that I have only experienced two pregnancies compared to your four, due to being blessed with my twins. Therefore, I believe that our current experiences are not to be compared, especially as I am several years younger than yourself. Please refrain from making further comments such as that, Sister, they are not appreciated. I was simply expressing my congratulations, not requesting guidance. I do believe it would be best if I was to depart now, before the atmosphere is further dampened. Sisters Luna and Jasmine, do you wish to join me in my Palace for a continued lunch? Excellent."

1st May 2001- Tuesday

The first of May dawned quickly, too quickly in Harry's opinion, as today, the fragile peace that had settled over the Harem would be shattered. Harry clutched the scroll in his hands tightly, the contents of which he and Thomas had discussed ahead of time. The man had wanted him to be aware of what he would be announcing beforehand, so that he would not have to publicly reveal his sentiments on the ruling. Now, as he stared down at the anticipatory forms of the other concubines, he was filled with trepidation.

"Good morning, Sister's, Brother's, I thank you all for arriving so swiftly. Today, His Majesty wishes for me to announce a change in the status of Consort Penny."

The woman in question shifted in her seat, staring at the scroll as if it were pure gold, anticipation emanating from her in waves. Other concubines chittered excitedly as they waited for him to continue, and Harry breathed in deeply.

"For the birth of the Eight Prince, your second son and fourth child, His Majesty bestows upon you the esteemed title of Honoured Mother, for your successful, fruitful endeavour in replenishing the Slytherin name."

Penny's expression only grew brighter. "I thank His Majesty for this honour. I am overjoyed to join Sister Bellatrix as one of the titled few in the Harem."

Of course, the woman couldn't help but send a dig Harry's way, even in a moment such as this.

There was a distinct pause as the words settled, the concubines processing them and waiting for Harry to continue, sure that such an accomplishment warranted more reward. Penny looked especially expectant. After the silence reigned for a few more increasingly tense moments, Penny's expression morphed with barely concealed hurt, her eyes widening slightly. A whisper travelled down the hall as the concubines realised there would be no promotion for the still Primary Consort. The air grew stilted, the tension in the room rising as the woman's expression crumbled, a mixture of fear and anger shining through.

One of the Concubines, Felix, ever on Penny's side, awkwardly spoke as the silence deepened. "Oh, congratulations on your title, Sister! It is such an accomplishment to be awarded such a rare reward." The man crowed, and it enthused some of the others to begin echoing the sentiment, although they appeared unsure whether this was truly a reward of more importance than a promotion.

"Congratulations, Sister!"

"Oh, how wonderful! His Majesty honours you!"

Bellatrix, too, said her piece. "I am glad that it is you who joins me in sharing the title of Honoured Mother. You are deserving of the title, Sister, unlike others."

The woman in question smiled, unclenching her jaw as her body finally thawed from its frozen state. It was an awkward expression, clearly forced. "Thank you, Brothers, Sisters, for your heartfelt congratulations. I am, as I expressed, blessed to be honoured with such a title." Penny met Harry's eyes, emotions raging within them. Smugness, that she had had a fourth child, so they were no longer evenly matched. Gloating, for Harry had not received the title of Honoured. But also, her eyes revealed her uncertainty, her distress at being so obviously snubbed, with no promotion to go along with that title. Despite her every attempt, she was still below him.

Harry would bet it made the birth of her son almost worthless in her eyes. She had essentially gained the Emperor's ire, and barred herself from his bed, for no obvious gain.

Harry hoped the realisation stung.

In all honesty, he couldn't wait for her to slip up at some point, letting in room for criticism and demotion. Hopefully, she would follow Bellatrix in her downfall, and then, with the most powerful and vocal of his enemies dealt with, Harry could focus his attention on the remainder.

Patricia, Felix, Alecto, they all needed to face demotion of some sort to quell their complacency in their status. They needed to have negligible power before Harry could truly be content. The others ranked low enough already that their dissatisfaction was second place in his mind, and he wouldn't find the satisfaction he felt seeing such powerful contenders falling from grace.

Harry couldn't help but want to break her slowly replenishing facade, after all she had said to him recently. "I wish to congratulate you as well, Sister Penny." He felt as the tension in the room skyrocketed as his unexpected interference, the attention of the room moving solely over to himself and his words. Penny stared up at him, eyes blazing, knowing he wouldn't truly speak of congratulations. "With the birth of your fourth child, you have more than completed your duty as a concubine to His Majesty, Sister, as is suggested with this graciously bestowed title. I do believe it is perhaps His Majesty's way of requesting for you to rest now. Four births is more than any member of His Harem has experienced. I personally wish to thank you for your service, Sister, blessings to you and the youngest Prince. His Majesty surely has honoured you correctly with your title. May we all pray to experience the same one day. It is only right for those more experienced to wish their younger counterparts success, after all."