An Enterprising Omega

Chapter 68 : Working

He drummed on his desk again. It hadn't been two hours since he returned to work and Voldemort was unable to concentrate. On the contrary, he could easily see what he had left behind. A sleepy omega hugging their young in their nest, saying goodbye in a hushed voice while their babies finished their bottles. Her husband leaning heavily against the pillows, their children against his chest, in an unmade bed that smelled of them. Voldemort was sure that Harry had gone back to sleep with their little family, lazy as he might be in the morning.

And he was there, unable to hold his position as Emperor even though it had taken him more than sixty years to obtain it. Voldemort typed again and looked at his paperwork, more and more irritated. Trying to analyze what was wrong with him. His family was safe, he was sure of it, and he loved his work, even though it could be particularly time-consuming. So what ? Was he suddenly fed up or was it just because his instincts told him he should take care of his own?

There was a knock on his office door, which he opened with a brutal gesture. Abraxas appeared on the threshold, a little surprised but nevertheless entered with all his Malfoy grace. Voldemort put down his useless quill, the ink had even dried on the tip, proof of his inability to write the slightest word or even read a document as his mind was elsewhere. The blond bowed of course and had to note that the piles of parchment had not diminished in any way. Voldemort already wanted to cast a spell.

-What is it ?

-… Milord, perhaps you should work from home?

Of course, Voldemort's irritation grew, his magic jostled his friend a little. Abraxas was not surprised, he held on to one of the chairs in front of the large desk to keep himself upright.

-Milord, this is not a criticism, it is simply what would be best for you, whether you like it or not.

Voldemort took a deep breath. Do not punish Abraxas. His friend was doing nothing wrong, nothing at all. He tried to help him, but Voldemort hated having his decisions questioned, even when it was logical and necessary. He hated being wrong and that fact wasn't going to let him go just because he became a father.

-It shouldn't affect me so much.

-You are wrong, I'm afraid. Love does this to us, whether we like it or not. We worry, we take care, we protect. You can die for love, you can kill too. And you would do all these things for them, right?

Voldemort crossed his arms, defensive as stupid as that was. He didn't want to think about death, but no doubt yes, he was dying to protect them. A damn disturbing thought for a being like him who had always put his survival before everything. He had achieved immortality or at least a form of immortality to avoid having to suffer an encounter with Death. He sighed because it didn't get him anywhere.

Abraxas was right. He just wanted to go back to the mansion and be with his family. Maybe yes, he would concentrate there. Except he never liked bringing work home. At his mansion, he had conducted his research on artifacts, dark magic, no Ministry documents, even less since he became King. Of course, there was the documentation of his followers at Riddle Manor… But it wasn't exactly the same thing.

This would mean having an office in their home. Like Harry... Hey, was his omega working? He hadn't even thought about it even though he knew he cared about his businesses. Was the complex in Scotland progressing well? They didn't talk about it again. Voldemort stood abruptly and with a few waves of his wand, he shrunk his documents and stuffed them into a still empty pocket. Abraxas smiled at him. Voldemort cast a stinging curse on him for the punishment.

-Commut to the mansion, if necessary. I will see about opening the fireplace in my office for you once such a place is ready. And stop smiling so much!

-Milord… It’s simply happiness. I'm glad you're happy.