Chapter Text
Tom had a stressful day at work. Like yesterday, he was still cleaning up the mess that the rest of the government made while he was gone. He can’t even imagine regretting staying by Harry’s side while he was in the hospital, but that doesn’t change how much he loathed the extra work when going back. Not busy enough that he wasn’t able to slip out (Merlin bless Hermione who covered for him) long enough to deal with the terrorists that the Aurors decided to ignore despite Harry’s attack, but busy nonetheless.
His day at work may have been stressful, but once he got home, all of his worries melted away in the face of his beloved. His dearest had lovingly made him some hot chocolate (which somehow smelled more of Harry than usual) and was now sitting on his lap embroidering something while Tom read. He didn't truly know what Harry was embroidering because every time he tried to look, Harry would just whine and tell him not to peek. He was so cute when he did it, that Tom couldn't even imagine how he could deny his request. Besides, it was probably for him, since his husband did the same thing when he was embroidering snakes on one of his ties. To this day, the snake tie is still his favorite.
“Ha! I'm finished!” His beloved exclaimed triumphantly.
“Can I see it now, my love?”
“Noooo. You'll just have to wait till later.”
His petulance was downright adorable, so in a bid to draw out more of it, Tom made a show of looking at his watch. After a minute he proclaimed “It is later. Can I see it now?”.
“Noooo, not now! At least wait till after dinner.” His beloved whined, drawing a fond chuckle out of Tom.
“Speaking of dinner, we have been sitting here for a couple of hours and it's getting late, so we should probably start deciding what we're going to eat. Since you've been in a coma for almost a week, and now don't have any dietary restrictions, I think you should choose. We can go wherever you want.”
For a second, Tom was concerned that Harry was going to suggest the French restaurant because the attack stopped Tom from going. While Tom did want to eventually try the restaurant, he didn't think now was the best time. For starters, he wanted his dearest’s first unrestricted meal in a week to be something that he enjoyed, not something Tom enjoyed. Secondly, he didn't think he deserved such consideration from Harry at all, and most certainly not after being attacked because of Tom.
“No, no, no. I really don't want to go out tonight.” Harry rushed to say.
At the panic in his tone, Tom's concern started to take an alternate route. Was his beloved scared of going out after the attack? Is it trauma? Should Tom get a mind healer for Harry?
“ I just… I want to spend some time alone with you.” his beloved whispered.
Tom’s concern quickly melted away and was replaced with an overwhelming amount of fondness because Merlin, He. Did. Not. Deserve. This. Goddamned. Miracle. In. Front. Of. Him. Besides, where was this even coming from? Said miracle isn't even under the influence of Amortentia!
Of course, his confusion was not going to stop him from giving in to his dearest's desires. So, they called Mipsy and asked her to have the elves start on chicken pot pie and mashed potatoes with treacle tart for dessert. Merlin, does he love magic because it was only half an hour later when Mipsy came to tell them dinner was ready.
Reluctantly they emerged from their cocoon of comfort and walked to the dining room, leaning on each other the whole way, as if scared that their beloved might vanish any second if they didn't have as much contact as physically possible. Once they arrived in the dining room, Tom went through his usual ritual of pulling a chair out for Harry and pushing him in, before seating himself by his side. But, this time, Harry had an objection.
“Please, Tom, could you sit across from me, I want to see your face.” Like usual, Tom obliged his beloved with affection. As soon as they were both in their seats, butterbeer and food filled the empty spaces in front of them and they lapsed into a comfortable silence as they both started to eat.
“Tom, I have something to tell you.” His beloved said nervously.
“Of course, my love. What is it?” He might have enjoyed the uninterrupted focus on the food he got from the silence, but his dearest's conversation was infinitely more desirable.
“You love me,” Harry said, reminding Tom of toddlers talking to their parents or grandparents. Of course, his beloved was unimaginably cuter than any child could ever dream to be. He could end up having a toddler tell him that, though. Harry has talked about adopting sometime in the future, and while Tom wasn't against children, he just didn't have the fondness for them that Harry did. Regardless, Harry wanted to adopt children, so Harry would get children. Besides, his beloved deserved to have more people he genuinely loved and chose. Unlike Tom who has only ever hurt him, who has forced him until he needed manufactured feelings just to cope. However, Tom isn't going to focus on that now, his beloved has blessed him with his conversation and he is not going to repay such kindness by ignoring it.
“Of course I do darling.” Tom didn't even bother trying to tease him.
“No- I-I mean- I mean- You gen-” he cut himself off and took a deep breath to collect himself.
“I'm sorry.” His beloved finished, causing a rush of concern to flow through Tom. It was so wrong. His dearest should never be apologizing to him .
“For what? You could never have any reason to apologize to me.” He finished with a reassuring smile. Apparently, it wasn't reassuring enough though, because his miracle was looking down and nervously playing with his sleeve. He took another deep breath before tentatively looking up into Tom's eyes and answering.
“I… may have… dosed your Hot Chocolate with Amortentia.” He rushed the last words out as if by saying them quickly enough, Tom wouldn't catch them. He then punctuated his confession with a lowering of his eyes and the grazing of his bottom lips with his teeth.
Honestly, Tom still doesn't know what Harry’s apologizing for. Harry could have told him that he filled the cup with lethal poison or the Drink Of Despair, and he would have still happily drank it if his beloved asked him to. Besides, Amortentia wouldn't even work on him if it was keyed to Harry (and it must have been since he was not affected). It's not like he wouldn't (or hasn't already) happily rip his heart out of his own chest to give to Harry, for him to play with carelessly, in the hopes that he could have even the chance to provide his husband with even the slightest bit of joy.
He dropped his fork on his plate, careful not to cause too loud of a clatter and startle his beloved. He reached out one hand to lay atop the hand that his dearest had on the table. The other hand he brought to his mouth, freeing his bottom lip from the brutality of his teeth, before sliding the hand to his cheek so he could lift his face and make sure he understood what he was about to say: the truth.
“It's alright, love. You have nothing to apologize for.” His thumb gently caressed his beloved's cheek while his expression and tone melted into one of affection like ice melts in the face of the warm summer sun.
“Where did this come up?”
“Ummm… it may have been Hermione's idea. She may have put Amortentia in your coffee yesterday. Please don't get mad at her.” He pleaded.
“I won't.” He promised. How could he not? Even if his beloved hadn't asked him, he didn't think he could be mad at Hermione for it. She was just trying to help Harry, and how could he be mad at that? Heck, he might even have to thank her for taking his beloved's safety and happiness so seriously that she would go to such risks in a bid to prevent Tom from taking advantage of Harry.
“She told me that she thought you loved me, and I had to see for myself because… I honestly thought you were just trying to manipulate me into being more compliant.”
At his whispered words, Tom's heart broke. Harry must have been so worried all these years, must have been waiting for Tom to force him into something else, for all these years.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have thought so badly of you.”
“Darling, it's fine. After everything I've done, no one can blame you for thinking I wasn't being honest. Least of all me.” He reassured his husband.
It was bad enough that Tom was causing him more and more pain and stress over the years, but for his beloved to blame it on himself? That was simply unbearable.
“I have something else I need to tell you.”
“What is it?” Tom asked, intrigued and worried that it was another fault of Tom that Harry was going to try to blame himself for.
“I no longer need the Amortentia.”
“Then I'll just stop giving it to you, I'm not my mother after all, and I can understand why you would be uncomfortable with it after you found out I'm in love with you.” He tried to give his beloved a comforting smile but it felt bitter on his face. He would miss this sweet Harry that (acted like he) loved him, that let him, hold his hand, hold him in bed, and pull out his chair. The Harry that let Tom show him all of his love. It was okay though, after everything he had done, he didn't deserve to even pretend that somone could love him, especially not if it hurt Harry.
“No, not, what I meant. I mean… the Amortentia doesn't work anymore, hasn't been working for afterward and I genuinely fell in love with you years ago. I just didn't tell you because I thought,… I thought you didn't truly love me.” Tom's brain stuttered and his disbelief must have shown on his face because his beloved rushed, to prove himself.
“Reprehendo salutem.” His husband performed the medical scan on himself and handed the conjured list to him. Tom looked down at the list of current injuries and potions affecting Harry… there was none. Nothing was influencing his beloved behavior which meant Harry must love him… unless Harr,y was lying. He could have been pretending to hurt Tom, to break his heart again. However, he couldn't quite see his beloved going out of his way to be that cruel, even to him. Regardless, even if, it is a ploy to hurt him, he's just going to do what he always does with anything from Harry: open up to it willingly.
“So that's why you've been acting the same despite not having taken Amortentia since before the attack?” He asked.
“...So you didn't dose the pain potion with Amortentia?”
Tom couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.
“No, beloved, no. The Amortentia could have negatively affected your healing. Afterward, I didn't dose you because I was trying to figure out your behavior.” Tom said, still chuckling.
“I love you, Tom.” his dearest told him once he stopped chuckling, and he felt his heart melt.
“I love you, too.”
“A toast?” his beloved asked a couple of minutes later.
“What to?” He asked, willing to indulge his dearest’s fondness for them.
“A toast to us,” He said, raising his cup in the air.
“To Us” Tom echoed, wrinkle-free glass with Harry’s.
After that, they lapsed into a comfortable silence with Tom using his left hand to eat while his right one held Harry’s. Once they finished their chicken pot pie and mashed potatoes, they took turns feeding each other treacle tar. With full bellies, they walked to their bedroom, arms, like usual, tangled together.
They brushed their teeth and changed into their pajamas. They were ready for bed when Tom noticed that the robe closet was still open. When he went to close the door, he saw the first set of robes inside it. Pulling out the robes, he saw they were a set of his black robes… but they now had little green lighting bolts all over them. Tom's incredulity must have shown on his face because his love burst out laughing.
“You little imp!” Tom yelled, tackling his beloved to the bed and tickling him. After a couple minutes they curled up into each other's arms and tried to catch their breaths between the occasional laugh. Tom hoped that charms would be enough to make the lightning bolt robes clean and wrinkle free enough to wear them tomorrow; he left dropped them on the floor and didn't want to leave his beloved embrace just to pick them up.
The last thought Tom had, before falling asleep in the arms of his miracle was: from the outside, nothing changed, but from the inside, everything that mattered did.