Two for One

Chapter 33: Competitors

Harry returns from another quick trip around Europe and Asia, warding large civilian shelters. He's focusing on China (or what is going to be a more unified China) because the place is too divided, and while he understands war is gruesome and cruel, Japan is not getting to Nanking. Not that Korea is spared either. Harry has no idea how he'll evacuate that many women and girls but he's going to do it.

He's also recently started chipping away at concrete support structures in military bases because there's something to be said about logistics winning wars, and you can't have an army if there's nowhere to house them. Harry has gotten very good at causing guns to jam in various ways with his magic because having half a dozen people fire at him and every single bullet miss is maybe not subtle.

Today, instead of catering to his saving people thing (he can't keep doing this he's going insane), Harry peeks his head into the demonstration room and doesn't spot his boys anywhere but he does find the Unspeakable lounging in a chair with a cocktail while several too young people scramble to try and impress him.

"Harry," the Unspeakable calls out in delight, brushing off the others as he walks right past them to Harry lingering at the door. The Unspeakable lowers their voice. "I told you, Harry, you need to hold out and they'll come to you. Be strong now and the boys will think twice about leaving you again."

"I'm just worried," Harry complains, waving off the offer for a sip of the cocktail. "Are they doing okay? Because I know they skip meals. The snakes are getting anxious."

"You're getting anxious," the Unspeakable corrects.

Harry makes a noncommittal noise and tucks a hand into his pocket where the holly and elder wands are. Death said the boys haven't bought their own wands, so they must be waiting for Harry's, and Harry just doesn't want to be defenceless in case they insult someone willing to hurt a child. And fine, they have other means of defence (attack) but it only takes one mistake to get hurt.

Someone clears their throat from further inside the room, a teenage girl that holds herself like Tom does: head high, back straight, forever looking down on others like watching ants mindlessly marching in a line. "And who is this?"

Harry can't see past the blurring spells, but he's pretty sure the Unspeakable rolls their eyes.

"Harry, would you like to meet the reason your angry little Dark Lords threw a tantrum?" the Unspeakable offers.

Harry glances over a cloaked shoulder. "Someone else was winning the competition, you said?"

The Unspeakable leads Harry further into the room and introduces them. "The teenager is warfare, particularly skilled at mixing magical and muggle – he's several hundred years old, currently possessing that body, artifact mishap."

"I have a name," the teenage girl – the wizened man – the...competitor says.

"Be better, maybe I'll remember it," the Unspeakable dismisses, so apathetic the insult doesn't have any heat, just ends up sounding mild and uncaring.

Harry looks away from the glare the possessed body is giving him and feels empathy despite this man probably causing Tom and Gellert to fight. If the Unspeakable spoke to Harry like that instead of the usual wry sarcasm, Harry would be staggering from the blow.

"Then the little boy and girl, who focus on influencing society and laws respectfully," the Unspeakable continues. "Body swapped and time travel back to own body."

Harry leans over and whispers into the hood of the cloak. "Is it fair that Tom and Gellert have to compete with adults? I mean, obviously they'd have a hard time winning-"

"They started late in the game but have caught up significantly," the Unspeakable interrupts. "Are you insulting your boys? Because Harry, if you said that about me, that would be quiet insulting."

The little girl who time travelled, even younger than Tom, narrows her eyes. "Are you speaking of the other two competitors?" she asks with a heavy accent that Harry guesses to be...Swedish?

The Unspeakable is still talking to Harry. "Gellert is technically construction and Tom is technically transport and commercial. They've blocked off real estate plus import and export, no one can escape them. They've made warfare unnecessary because they can disappear people at will inside their own homes, money makes the world go 'round and laws are a backdrop to cash, and society is run by the powerful with resources making the power."

Harry pauses. "So what you're saying is-"

"Yeah, your boys are winning by a landslide." The Unspeakable gestures at the other three competitors with a tip of their cocktail. "These ones forged the letter as psychological warfare – which worked, right up until you cut that off at the knees and the boys got distracted with you instead."

Harry blinks rapidly. "Does Tom and Gellert know?"

"Of course they do," the Unspeakable scoffs. "But it's done now and the boys won't admit they're wrong, moping around the place, waiting for you to welcome them back with open arms – wait, Harry!"

Harry is already out of the door because this is dumb, this is so dumb, he just wants his boys back.

=====================

Harry slams open the door to the rented apartment (more like an entire penthouse suite, by Merlin) filled with shrunken suitcases and boxes of paperwork, a separate wardrobe-sized container housing a demountable laboratory.

The boys are waiting, probably knew he was coming up because of the wards, but there's no way they could have packed all this in such a short time frame.

"Where have you been?" Harry cries, diving at them and wrestling them both into an angry hug. "I was so worried!"

"It took you so long to get here!" Tom snaps back. "A whole month, Harry, why were you so slow?"

"You could have come back home," Harry complains. "This isn't all on me. You're just as stubborn, you didn't want to lose and then you didn't want to admit you were wrong."

"Sorry," Gellert says, and finds that he means it. "You're right, we should have just taken a break."

Harry frowns, taken aback. He lets go and straightens up to look at them properly. "What's with the change?"

Tom huffs and looks away. "We don't need to compete with those ones, my only challenge is Gellert."

Harry sighs. "Well, whatever. I'm just glad you're both fine." He blinks rapidly. "You're smart and strong and you're going to do incredible things. I know I joke a lot about you two becoming dictators but I'm actually so proud and I just want you to be happy."

Tom pauses. "Thanks," he admits quietly. "I - Harry, I'd do these things anyway regardless of what you want, but it ... really does mean something to me, when you say that."

"I'm proud of you too, you know," Gellert says and hugs him around the waist. Harry squeezes back tightly. "I know it's difficult with us and it's not working the way you want it to, but I'm ... glad you try anyway."

Harry sniffles and rubs his eyes with a hand, shoving his glasses askew. "Shit, I'm crying," he croaks out. "I love you two."

"I trust you," Tom warns.

"I adore you," Gellert cautions.

And it's more than enough for Harry.

"You are going to get punished though," Harry grumbles.

"Sure," Gellert says casually. "What were you thinking? Quidditch season is over, we can't go to a game."

Harry pauses and looks around. "Uh. I'll get back to you on that." He huffs. "Come here, I'll hug the stuffing out of you."

He squeezes them until Gellert pretends to die and Tom just looks long-suffering but allows the contact without much of a protest.