Intimacy

28th February 2002 - Thursday

The seventeenth birthday of Hestia and Flora, Alecto's twin girls, was the first party of a royal child Harry had attended in a while, apart from those whom had asked him directly, such as Alexus and Amelia. He had sent gifts along, yes, but he hadn't attended. He believed that the girls’ seventeenth wasn't one to miss, however.

The party had begun normally, with the now adults putting on a performance for their guests, showcasing their seventeen years of gained knowledge. The two had been wonderful, ending with a duel casting of Patronus’, revealing their forms to be twin Lynx that pranced around each other. 

Thomas had then proudly bestowed both of them with a title, since neither had married yet, nor planned to any time soon. Hestia was henceforth the Duchess of Devon, whilst her older sister took control of the newly created Duchy of Dorset. Both were incredibly pleased with their lots, joining their older sisters as the first round of Imperial Duchesses in the Empire. And these were only the first of their lands. Many believed that, as they proved themselves, the Emperor would soon name them Duchesses of other lands abroad, as well, such as in France. There were over forty counties in England alone, after all, so some children may be named the ruler of more than one.

After that, however, when their mother had come forward to congratulate them, and Thomas had made his way back to Harry's side, something had seemed to break inside the woman as she looked upon her now independent, adult daughters. Her hug had grown tight, clinging, and Flora had squirmed her way out of the hold with a frown.

“Mother, you’re hurting me. Stop.”

Alecto’s face had twisted into a snarl, and her first words had been inaudible to him until she had begun screaming, but Hestia had later informed her father of them. “Ungrateful bitches! I loathe you, both of you! Why did you have to take your younger brothers from me, why?! You could have had siblings, true siblings, but no, you took the chance for me to have more children away from me! And you’re not even grateful for all I have sacrificed for you, bringing you into this world! You'll enjoy your freedom as Duchesses, will you? That freedom and gift should have been bestowed upon my sons, not my useless daughters!”

Thomas had apparated the distance in an instant, but even he couldn't have stopped the sickly orange curse that connected with Flora's leg, sending the girl tumbling to the floor with a hellish sound of agony.

The girl had screamed in pain, the noise hair raising. Her twins’ shouts had joined her, although it was not physical pain that she felt; the pain of watching her sister experience agony had caused her mental anguish that could be viscerally felt.

Quick as a snake, Alecto had been thrown to the floor by the force of Thomas’ magic as he had tended to his daughter, chanting spell after spell, trying to reverse the worst of the damage. Whatever Alecto had cursed her own daughter with, however, was lasting. Flora's leg had twisted strangely, as if it lacked bones, and all Thomas had managed to do was reverse the mangled lump into something which vaguely resembled a leg. The Princess had fainted after seeing the disturbing sight, but her leg did not twitch, even despite the pain she must have felt whilst unconscious. It didn’t bode well, and the Emperor’s dark expression silenced the hall.

The Harem and the Royal siblings had watched on in horror, and Harry had fought down the urge to retch at the sight. Others had failed, and Harry had gently held Alexus as he wept into his shoulder, keeping Amelia close on his opposite side whilst the girl muttered with her hands clasped over her ears, obviously entranced in the thrall of a vision.

1st March 2002 -  Friday

“Alecto Carrow, for your vile actions, for the harm you caused to a Princess of the Royal Blood, and in acknowledgement of both the Fifth and Sixth Princess’ wishes, His Majesty, the Emperor, sentences you to death. This act shall be carried out publicly, so that all will be witness to your deserved end. From this moment forth, you are stripped of all of your titles. Your family, as well, has relinquished your claim to their last name, disinheriting you so as not to bring further shame to them. You are now merely a nameless witch who dared to harm an Imperial Princess, and He finds you nothing but guilty of this utmost treason.” Head Eunuch Elson coldly recited into the deafening silence of the Hall, not even sparing a glance at the scroll in his hands. He was stood a few steps down from the dias, his back straight and face blank, waiting for Thomas’ next course of action. Harry’s eyes drifted up to the man.

The Emperor appeared imposing and deadly sat in his throne upon the dias, metres above their kneeling forms, looking over them with a cold, unforgiving gaze. Harry had been allowed a chair to sit upon, but the other concubines were shivering on their knees around him, terrified for their lives. They had reason to be. Thomas was in a foul mood, and his anger was currently directed upon a concubine. Or, rather, a former concubine, now.

Before them all, chained and dishevelled at the very feet of the steps, Alecto was rocking on her knees. The woman appeared a shell of herself, crazed and delusional, whispers passing her lips that made no sense at all. She didn’t appear sane, although who would have thought her so after her actions the day before? Harming her own daughter so permanently, speaking so boldly and disgustingly, and in front of the Emperor, their protective, powerful Father? The woman’s brain had clearly turned to dust over the years, for she obviously could not think.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The Emperor hissed mockingly, leaning forward slightly. “Any excuses, any reasonings for why you dared to harm my daughter?”

Alecto shivered, coming back to life as if she was a puppet jerked by strings. The woman let out a wheeze, slapping a hand on the floor, resting the other on her heart as she looked up at the man earnestly, madness swirling in her eyes. From what Harry could see, her lips were bitten to pieces, and there was a distinct bruise upon her cheek, but they appeared to be the worst of her visible injuries. “They deprived us of our sons, Your Majesty, they don’t deserve your-” Her words stopped dead in her throat, and the woman made a choked, strangled noise, her face turning red then purple as her body was deprived of oxygen. The Emperor’s hand hadn’t even twitched.

“Sons? What sons? We have no sons, and have never and will never have any. You gave me two daughters, whom I cherish and care for, whom I have raised for seventeen years. My first twins, my daughters. And you,” He thundered, the pressure in the room rising as Thomas’ magic lashed out at the walls, creating fractures in the stonework. Harry eyed the fissures, alarmed, but kept his breathing steady as he watched the scene before him. “Harmed Flora. You would have turned to Hestia next, would you not? I could see it in your eyes, you wished to break those girls to the point that they would have had to rely on you despite their adulthood. Did you think no further than that? Why in the world would I leave my daughters in the care of a worthless, halfwit such as you, who has not held custody of them since they were infants, after you had harmed them before my very eyes!?” The Emperor stood, but made no move to descend the steps. “I should execute you this moment, rid the earth of your foul existence. But Hestia, my daughter, has requested a true exposition. You will die publicly, shamefully, and I shall be glad to finally be rid of you.”

15th March 2002 - Friday

Alecto was wordlessly screaming as she was dragged into her execution chamber by a pair of masked Knights, who roughly dumped her in the centre of the hall and chained her.

Early in the morning, the Court had been roused from their beds and transported to an unknown location. It was a large court chamber, with circular benches rising above the open space in the middle where the prisoner was chained to the floor. On these benches, the observers sat: Council members, Lords and Ladies of the realm, and on the lowest levels, the Head Maids and Eunuchs of the Court. Up on the balcony that circled the chamber, sofas and armchairs were situated nearer to the back by the wall, so that the gathered concubines could escape the sight if they wished. Harry was looking down, holding onto the railing for support, knowing that as the Head of this Harem, it was his duty to observe the proceedings. Thomas had assured him that he didn’t need to, but Harry would brave the sight for however long he could, as long as his stomach could hold and his babies would allow. None had been informed how this execution would proceed. It could be drawn out, or it could be quick. It all depended on the Emperor, and how he wished to punish the woman who had harmed his daughters.

Thomas stood over her, his face expressionless. There was no throne for him to sit on, he was not the judge presiding over a trial now, he was the executioner. Hestia had wished to watch her mother’s final moments, and stood merely a few feet behind her Father, the only other person down in the pit. Flora had declined, remaining within her new set of apartments in the City.

“I will allow you no last words.” The Emperor began cooly, his strong voice resounding. “My daughters have decided that you do not deserve them. What you do deserve to know, however, is that I will ensure you are swiftly forgotten.” The woman’s eyes widened at the man’s cold, heartless words, and she screamed wordlessly. “Your blood may run on through my daughters, but your name, your very existence shall be forgotten by all. I shall make sure that no one within my Empire utters your name from now on, not even out of scorn. You shall be nameless, only spoken of as the woman that dared to harm a Princess of the Imperial blood. It shall not even be spoken that Flora was your daughter. She claims no mother from the day you inflicted such a vile curse upon her. And Hestia shall revile being born from such a monster’s womb.”

Thomas took a purposeful step back, emphasising to the woman how he loomed over her helpless form. He looked like a predator assessing the world’s most unappetising prey. She was not a catch to play about with, or to laud about. She was merely a chore to snuff out.

“Harsh?” Thomas spoke to his daughter then, not turning to face her.

“Quick. I don’t want to spend another moment with her alive.” The woman responded with a voice of steel as she stared down at the woman who had given birth to her with hate-filled eyes, teary with detestation.

An Avada Kedavra was all it took to end the woman's life.

25th March 2002 - Monday

A fifth death within the Harem so soon after that woman had been executed shocked the Empire to its core. From the newspapers Anya had acquired for Harry, he could see that the public was astounded at such publicised violence within the Harem, reminiscent of its bloodiest days.

Harry frowned as he stared down at the headline of ‘The Daily Prophet’: ‘The Imperial Noble Butcher, the Bloody Ruler of the Harem’. The article was full of half-truths and outright lies, the only accurate information that the woman had died swiftly, and that she had been disinherited and stripped of all her titles beforehand. No press had been present within the chamber, so they could only have heard accounts of the proceedings. As soon as Thomas had caught wind of its circulation, he’d had the papers seized, and dismantled the company immediately. Anya had still managed to get her hands on one, however.

“Your Highness…” His maid sighed, reaching forward to pluck the paper from his stiff hands. “It is all lies. There is no need for you to upset yourself reading such filth, especially not in your condition. The public should know that this was not your fault. You cannot contain the insane.”

Harry snorted, allowing her to take the paper and burn it. “I know that, I am simply… amused and amazed at the fact that anyone could enjoy reading such a gossip-filled article. It is clearly all misinformation, a falsification of the events that the press were not witness to. That Skeeter woman, she’s the one who was at the Tournament, yes?”

“The very same, Your Highness. His Majesty had her imprisoned for her words against you, but he stayed his wish for violence in light that his recent executions have upset you.”

Harry sighed, shrugging, pleased that the man knew him so well but disturbed that he had to dwell on the recent deaths. “Yes, there has been… too much death. I know that we are a Harem, and the current climate is nothing compared to the Harem’s of the past, but… I am the Head of the Harem, the article at least has that right. I have a duty to guide all my fellow concubines, yet two have died so close to one another. It… I do not feel as though I have been fulfilling my duties, even though I know in my head that I could not have stopped that woman’s spiral. She had hated her daughters since the day they were born, I’ve been told. And from what I witnessed, I cannot refute that. The way she treated the Princesses, disabling Princess Flora…” He shook his head, slumping back. “How can a mother do such a thing?”

“There are such people like that in the world, Your Highness. Ones who should not be around people, let alone with vulnerable children. It is something that has always been. All we can do is ensure that we care for our future generations with more understanding than the past, to mitigate these events from occurring. It is a damn shame, however.”

Harry looked over to the children who had gathered within his Palace’ walls then. Alsephina, Julius, Lilaia, the three children of his own body, each burbling happily away around a miniature tea set and table. There were a group of kittens circling them, the cats now almost larger than their charges but still happy to be babied. Alexus and Amelia, the children of his heart, who he had come to see as his along the way, talking quietly with Silas, each peering over at him every so often, watching Harry carefully to make sure he was well. And the newest addition, Princess Hestia, whom Thomas had sent his way a week back to help keep the woman’s mind off of her healing twin.

Princess Hestia was far bolder than Harry remembered. Gone was the meek girl who had hidden slightly behind her older twin at every meeting, replaced by a woman who had blossomed into herself so abruptly due to the traumatic entrance to adulthood she had experienced. Princess Hestia was in his Palace almost daily after Thomas had brought her here for the first meeting over a week ago. His husband had sat with Harry and the woman whilst they had settled into each others’ presence, getting to know and trust one another, to see if his Palace and company would be the correct environment to heal in. Hestia had warmed to Harry almost immediately, the cold facade she had worn since her mother’s betrayal softening in the face of Harry’s openness. The woman especially enjoyed when her siblings had joined them the day after, patiently allowing Julius to climb all over her, and for Alsie to weave bows into her hair. Lilaia had remained cuddled into Harry’s arms, but the girl had patted her elder sister goodbye when she had left for the evening.

Hestia was currently observing her younger siblings from the armchair by the bookcase, smiling slightly behind the tome she was reading. As if sensing Harry’s stare, the woman’s eyes flittered to meet his, and she gave him a content smile that Harry returned. He slumped back into his chair more bonelessly, the tense muscles in his shoulders finally relaxing.

The death of a member of the Harem was never easy, even when the person who died had deserved such a fate. It left behind many problems for others to handle, and their victims, if any, had to learn to heal in the aftermath.

1st April 2002 - Monday

“His Majesty finally released the rankings this morning! Many thought that he wouldn’t formally announce the change in ranks since he did not on the first of March, but the Imperial Noble Consort announced earlier that Mistress Rakepick became the fifth Concubine due to that woman’s removal!” The maid that was speaking appeared giddy as she relayed this news to her companions, as if moving up a rank when there was no one to replace was something to brag about.

Kia simply rolled her eyes, focusing on her work. She was choosing which materials to send to the Clothing Department for His Highnesses' new set of robes, picking out first a cloth of black with red lilies, and next a silken sheet to line the inside. His Highness had already informed them of the changes in rank. Since it was too fresh an incident last month, the attack on the Princess merely the day before, the Emperor had postponed the official announcement of rank changes to this month. Concubine Rosenburg had become the fourth, and Rakepick the fifth. There was no other movement, and certainly nothing to brag about. The two had simply filled the hole that was left due to the removal of another concubine. Still, perhaps it really did mean a lot to those concubines and their maids, they had nothing else to brag about, after all, since Kia’s Master was the only one His Majesty truly paid attention to.

She held in the snort that wished to escape as she heard another set of maids begin to whisper excitedly about further future promotions. There would be none, she knew. If only everyone else could see the obsession the Emperor held for her Master, they would stop being so delusional and bitter. It was inevitable that he would be the only one to shine.

12th April 2002 - Friday

“No, I believe the curtains should be a darker colour, white is too light for a baby’s room. And the cribs should be closer together, the twins will probably be quite attached to one another, having shared a womb for nearly eight months, I don’t wish to cause them any distress.” Harry ordered, the maids bowing and moving the crib back to the far wall.

“What about the walls, Your Highness? Is light blue what you wish? What if you are to have daughters?” One of the Eunuchs asked, folding his hands together. Harry waved the man away.

“It does not matter, what baby cares for the gendered norms of colours? Blue is calming, so it shall remain blue. How is the mobile coming along? They have ensured that there are no sharp edges on any of the pieces?”

“No sharp edges, as you requested, Your Highness,” Anya assured him, her hands lightly resting upon his arm. “Princess Alsephina is here.”

Harry turned quickly, a bright smile replacing his frown as he reached down to pull his daughter into his side. The girl had grown considerably in the last few months, tall for her age, so Harry could no longer carry her with the considerable swell of his belly. The girl didn’t seem to mind, however, enjoying the freedom that mobility had given her. His eldest daughter was now only a few short months from turning three, Lilaia and Julius turning two only shortly after.

“What happening?” Alsie asked as she surveyed the room with intelligent red eyes, glaring slightly at the Eunuch by his side. Alsie did not like any of the Eunuchs, apart from, perhaps, Head Eunuch Elson, whom she tolerated. She enjoyed badgering the busy man for piggyback rides, clamping her hands into his dark hair when he indulged.

“We’re decorating the nursery for the babies. You’re going to have two new baby siblings soon, like when Jules and Lila joined us. You were very excited then.”

The girl tilted her head, staring up at him. “Like Jules and Lil?”

“Yes, exactly like that. You going to get two new brothers or two sisters instead, since they’re identical. The same.”

The girl’s nose scrunched, and she looked up at Harry with confused red eyes. “Why?”

Harry bit his lip. “Because they need to come out of Da’s tummy somewhen, darling.” He answered instead, crouching down with effort. “You’ve felt them move before, yes? Well, when they get big and strong, they’ll need to come out, and then you can meet them.”

Alsie tilted her head. “Okay.” Harry breathed out a relieved sigh. “But then they go back?”

Harry blinked, shaking his head. “No, darling, they’re here to stay, like Jules and Lila.”

His daughter scowled. “No! No, they go back!”

Harry floundered, unsure how to deal with Alsephina when she seemed so adamantly against the idea of her new siblings. “Alsie-”

The girl’s cheeks puffed as she readied herself to shout more.

“Alsephina, we do not shout at your Da.” Thomas’ smooth, controlled voice sounded from behind him, and he felt the brief brush of the man’s hand on his waist before his husband knelt. “Do we?”

Alsie shook her head morosely, tears welling in her eyes. “No… But I don’t…” She looked up at Harry, pouting. “Don’t get it. Why?”

“Why are you having more siblings?” Thomas gently asked.

The girl shook her head vigorously. “Lexie said we wouldn’t have more. Said Pa doesn’t want any. So why…”

Harry made a soft ‘ah’, understanding. She had obviously overheard Alexus speaking about his Father’s wish to not have more children with the other concubines. His daughter was so smart for a girl so young.

“Because I love your Da very much.” Thomas’ soft admission knocked the breath right out of him. Harry stared down at his figure with wide, watery eyes, but the man was busy reassuring their daughter. “I want more with him, but I do not wish to give you any more half-siblings. All your siblings from now on are your Da’s. That is why your siblings will stay.”

“Promise? Some are nice, but… like Jules and Lil the best.” 

“I promise, sweetheart.” Over their daughter’s head, the Emperor met Harry’s eyes with sincerity.

25th April 2002 - Thursday

The contractions began suddenly in the early hours of the morning. It was unexpected, he was over a month away from his due date, only just over thirty-three weeks along. Yet, they did not relent, no matter how many soothing potions the Healers fed him. His twins wanted out, and they were going to arrive sooner rather than later.

Harry muffled a yell of pain into his sleeve, feeling his stomach clench as another contraction ripped through him. However, the last time his Healer had checked, he hadn't progressed much, so, he was simply pacing around his living room, the Healer sitting in the next room, gritting his teeth whilst massaging his aching hips. He knew that, theoretically, the longer his labour lasted, the longer the twins stayed inside and benefitted from those few extra hours. However, it was a painful, exhausting ordeal. Already, his labour had lasted over twelve hours.

“Dada?” Lilaia tugged at his sleeve as she toddled over, her lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Okay?”

Harry nodded, although he was unable to respond, closing his eyes as it felt as if his abdomen was being torn apart.

“Your Highness…” Anya hedged, hovering around him, her face pale with concern.

“I’m… okay, Anya. Please, just…” Harry gritted his teeth. “Take the children away. Send them to their Father’s Palace tonight, as he offered. Please, I cannot… I do not wish them to witness this, they do not understand.”

It was painful to ignore the cries of his children as they were taken to their Father’s Palace, but it allowed for Harry to finally collapse onto the sofa with a pained cry, exhaustion hitting him, no longer putting on any pretences. His whole body was covered with a layer of sweat, and he whimpered into his arm as another painful contraction ripped through him.

It was most certainly his most agonising labour yet. In fact, when the time had come for his children to enter the world, Harry had almost crushed Thomas’ hand, the man by his side, a silent but steady presence that kept him sane during his labours.

It all felt worth it when his newest children were finally placed within his arms. The pair were absolutely identical, from their black hair to their toes. Even their eyes were the same shade of green, peering up at him with faces that seemed mirrored.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty, Your Highness, on the birth of the Ninth Prince and the Tenth Prince. May your reign last forevermore, Your Majesty, and your newest sons inherit Your immeasurable power."

Harry grinned down at the twin that had been born first, immediately knowing what he was going to name him.

“What name have you decided upon, Husband?” Harry gently questioned, cooing down at the little Prince.

“Laius, after the mythological King, but I do not wish such a tragic fate to befall my son. No, he will be a great ruler of whatever title’s he is bestowed.”

“Remus.” Harry offered softly. “For my own. Laius Remus Slytherin.”

“And I had thought to name our second Linus. The son of a God, but he will grow into a finer man than his namesake.”

“Romulus, to complete the pair. The founder of Rome.” Harry brushed the soft hair from his son’s eyes, smiling wetly down at him. The pair were perfect, if a little small for now. No matter, Harry would ensure that the both of them grew healthily.