A Little Help from a Snake // Tomarry

Part 67

"I hope I didn't fuck anything up," Harry fretted as the Slytherins were leaving the Great Hall after their last exam.

"I'm sure you didn't," Pansy said.

"I did," Draco muttered. "I just know I mixed up the goblin names."

"I messed up in Charms," Tracey said. "Instead of making the egg do cartwheels, I made it launch itself at the wall and explode."

"Did you get covered in it?" Daphne asked.

"I think a better question would be what didn't get covered."

And of course, Remus heard all about the written portion for Defense Against the Dark Arts, specifically the question about identifying a werewolf.

"I was tempted to name more than five ways," Harry told him. "I mean, I could have said I live with one."

"You didn't, did you?" Remus said, raising an eyebrow at his wayward son.

"No. But I can tell you what I thought."

Since Harry was most likely going to tell him no matter what, Remus relented. And almost immediately wanted to bury his head in the wall.

"They have very soft hair."

Both of Remus' mates would agree.

"Their singing isn't too bad, but sometimes they can be unbearable." A pause. "Or should I say unwolfable? No, that sounds terrible. Like a werewolf's singing."

Remus groaned, covering his face.

"Oh! They're cranky in the week before a full moon."

That... was true.

"They don't have good comebacks."

"Your face doesn't have a good comeback," Remus muttered, then swore softly when what he said registered in his mind.

"They swear a lot, probably a trait passed down by the extinct swearwolves."

"Okay, you can stop now. Get out."

As Remus shooed Harry out of his office, Harry had one last thing to say. "They are sometimes seen with bite marks on their necks from their Animagus mate."

Remus clapped a hand over his neck. "I do not have a bite mark!"

He actually had three.

The excitement didn't end at Hogwarts. As soon as Harry was home, Tom dragged him to their room and began going on about their upcoming bonding.

"Bella said we should invite your friends over to celebrate. So what I was thinking was it should either be this grand party or a simple get-together. Or — oh! — maybe something in between. Not too big, not too small."

"Tom," Harry said, but Tom didn't hear.

"I was asking Lucius and Narcisa how they went about their wedding. Slightly different with the ceremony, but they both agreed there should be some formal event beforehand. You still have your dress robes from the Yule Ball, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. But, Tom —"

"With some adjustments, you can wear them again. You liked them well enough. And if we send word out like a month early, there will be plenty of time for people to get ready.

"Should there be a color theme?" Tom bounced on his toes. "Most of your friends are Slytherin, but you're on good terms with most students from all houses. Maybe a neutral color? Like purple? Yes, purple. I like purple!" His hands were flailing now.

"Tom!" Harry shouted, managing to catch his attention this time. "Calm down. We have time. Right now, I'm too tired to think about anything."

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Tom rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Apology unnecessary but accepted." Harry gave him a short kiss. "Although purple does sound nice. I'll keep it in mind."

Tom nodded. But as Harry went to change, Tom's mind continued to whirl with ideas. What shade of purple should they use? Dark? Light? Medium? A mixture?

'Hey! Tomalongadingdong. You're getting excited again.'

Tom realized his hands were shaking. He stopped moving them and said, 'I've waited decades for this. Can you blame me for that?'

'Course not, Tommy. It's adorable.'

Tom groaned. He was not adorable.

The dementors glided across the cell, greedily taking in the newcomer's presence. There was already a sense of hopelessness surrounding the old wizard, although he certainly succeeded a few times in closing his mind off.

Dumbledore's cell had been fortified with extra precautions to prevent any attempt of escape. Around his ankle was a shackle, which prevented him from performing wandless magic. None of the other prisoners had one, and when he had first been brought in, several had mustered up what little strength they had to take a closer look, only to lose interest when they saw who it was.

All except one. Peter Pettigrew pressed his face to the bars of his own cell and said in his squeaky voice, "Albus? Is that you?"

Dumbledore lifted his head. "Peter." There was a hint of surprise in his voice. "I thought they had freed all the Death Eaters."

"They didn't free any of them," Peter replied, puzzled. Hadn't Dumbledore heard the news? "They were just evaluated for their loyalty and health and either sent back here or to Janus Thickey Ward."

Last he heard, those that went to the latter were recovering very well.

"Oh." Now Dumbledore remembered. "Right, right." His mind had become muddled ever since he arrived.

"They never even considered me," Peter went on, not that he seemed to care. "But I doubt Remus and Sirius would have liked it anyway."

At the mention of the Marauders, Dumbledore went rigid. "I see." His voice was as cold as the dementors. "And how does that make you feel?"

"Well..." Peter shifted uncomfortably. "I did frame Sirius for murder and got James and Lily killed."

"Yes, but they should have learned to forgive you, don't you think?"

Peter hesitated. His grip on the bars tightened for a second and relaxed. "It's up to them if they wish to..."

"You don't think they should forgive you? For wishing to save yourself?" Dumbledore pressed. "Surely, they would have done the same."

Peter hesitated again. "N-no, they wouldn't have... They would have died for their friends."

"You don't know that for certain. You have every right if you want revenge," Dumbledore went on. His voice grew more confident, unaffected by the dark creatures roaming the shadows.

Peter shook his head, struggling to think. "I — I guess. I, uh, I'm tired. Night." He retreated without another word.

As sleep rose to claim him, Peter couldn't help but wonder what was going on in Dumbledore's head now.

I know the trial was probably not as exciting as you had anticipated, but it wasn't meant to be. What are your thoughts on it? On Peter? Tom's excitement for the color purple?

And random thing: I just reread the epilogue to Deathly Hallows and honestly, the naming of Albus Severus aside, it's not all that bad like many say it is.