Lightning and War

Making

"Abraxas located a reporter who will listen to us and do as we say."

"Um. Good."

Tom watched Harry as he undressed. They were in the small house in Hogsmeade that Tom had made his own through a combination of earned money, gifted money, charm, and charms. Harry was pacing back and forth through the bedroom, his pacing stirring shadows up and sending them whirling through the moonlight. He hadn't made any move to take even his shirt off.

Tom stood and came over to take Harry's shoulders into his hands. Harry halted at once, but he still quivered under Tom's hands like one of the horses that he had healed back in the Potters' dimension.

"Harry. We'll find her."

"But Dumbledore's men have her."

"I know that." Tom leaned forwards to trace his fingers around the curves of Harry's muscles. "But they have no reason to treat her badly. We'll find her. We'll get her back. And I suspect that she doesn't have much information to tell them."

"You told me enough about the Order of the Phoenix in this world to make me think—Tom, what if they torture her? If they assume she must know something since she came through the portal and try to make her tell them something?"

"The one good thing about the Order," Tom said quietly, his attention more on the faint tremor in Harry's shoulders than Jonquil, "is that they don't use torture to get the truth because they don't need to. Dumbledore legalized the use of Veritaserum on any suspect a decade ago. They would just dose her and figure out that she doesn't know a thing. Now, they might not let her go. We might need to fight our way into an Order stronghold to get her out. But, I promise, Harry, I won't let her be destroyed without a fight."

Harry relaxed back against him, finally. "Why, though? You don't like her."

Tom smiled brightly into the mirror on the wall, although Harry had his head lowered and didn't see it. Dislike was a mild word for what he felt for Jonquil, with her pathetic nature and her tears that she wept because she couldn't have him. But the answer was the same. "For your sake, Harry. Because I want to make you happy."

"You should think of people as ends in and of themselves, not just for me."

Harry's voice was heavy, though, and his attention all too obviously fixed on the circles Tom was making on his bare skin. Tom chuckled at him and drew him towards the bed.

"You must already know how unusual it is for me to fall in love at all. I'm not going to stretch my good nature to encompass someone that I have no reason to love."

Harry turned around with a smile and lifted a hand to slide against Tom's cheek. "I do know how different you are. How different you could be. Thank you for loving me."

Tom kissed him, because he didn't know what to say to that. It was inconceivable to him that he might have come to Harry's new world and not loved him, no matter how little experience he had of it here.

His hands restless, he pulled Harry towards the bed. Harry came with him, eyes focused, glimmering, amused. Tom preferred him this way, by far, to brooding over Jonquil.

Harry fell back with a gasp when Tom arranged pillows behind him and began to explore him in the way that it seemed they'd never had time for when they were in Godric's Hollow. Harry opened his legs and his eyes and his arms, yearning for him.

Tom kissed him again, and then reached down and stroked Harry's cock, thinking. Yes, he wanted to do this this evening. He dipped his head and captured Harry in his mouth.