Together, Or Not At All: a Harry X Voldemort|Tom

Death Eater's Base

Narrator's POV

Harry and Tom sat in front of each other in their small Diagon Alley Apartment, looking at a map of Wizarding Britain that had key locations marked with different colored dots —green meant a property that they owned, blue meant any Ministry owned buildings, yellow marked enemy homes, and red marked Hogwarts which was slightly aside.

"Four mansions to choose from to make our base." Tom muttered, staring at the map

"Slytherin and Potter Manor would seem like an obvious choice, so our enemies would likely guess that." Harry eliminated

"So, Peverell or Gryffindor Manor?" Tom asked

"Neither seem like a good choice." Harry muttered

"It's the only four properties we own that could fit our growing army." Tom replied

"There is one other property that they wouldn't expect, but I don't think you'll like it." Harry suggested

"Why wouldn't I like it, love?" Tom asked, curious

"It's Ridjdjsj Mansos." Harry mumbled

"It's what?" Tom asked again

"It's Riddle Manor." Harry answer coherently, "Anyone who knew would think you'd want to separate yourself from your Muggle heritage and would assume that you'd never want to be there."

"As much as I hate the thought of it, I agree that no one would never think of it. And it's certainly large enough." Tom agreed

"In the short time we were there, the servants quarters looked large enough for an infirmary and the lounge we killed them in looked like a good place for the Inner Circle to privately meet." Harry added

"Lets go take a look, sweetheart." Tom said, taking Harry's hand and apparting them away

Quickly casting "Lumos Maxima", Tom led Harry by the hand into the same Servant's Entrance they used last time coming here.

Looking around the Servant's Quarters, Harry's suggestion to make this the infirmary was perfect for the area, there were easily a dozen tiny rooms with twin sized beds with one slightly larger room for the healer's supplies.

Leaving the room, they found a medium sized kitchen that had: two walk-in pantries, one that they decided would be used to store food and the house-elves could sleep in the other; a large ice-box; and all the proper kitchen equipment.

Entering a hallway, the door next to the kitchen led to the mostly-empty wine cellar that they decided to change to a dungeon.

Going down the hallway, they found various rooms that they decided to give use as they needed it, and at the end of the hallway was a large ballroom.

Harry smiled, twirling around the room, "This is it. The meeting room, I can see it now: we transfigure the walls black like we are the rest of the house along with the gas lamps to candles; two silver thrones against the wall ahead of the door; make the white tile grey; and the chandelier's drippings changed into daggers."

Tom did as suggested with every word, seeing Harry's vision in reality: it was amazing.

They then went upstairs to where the Riddles had been killed and Harry suggested how they change the room that would be used for the Inner Circle's private meetings: the wall opposite of the door was covered in windows; a long, dark wooden table was in ten center of the room with many chairs on the sides and one chair on either end for them to sit; a fireplace warmed the room from the left wall, and a painting of a torture decorated the right.

Going around the top floor, they found many guest bedrooms to put to use later, and found the family wing.

The master bedroom they quickly claimed and changed to their preferences, and Tom went to the library and left Harry to wonder the bedrooms.

Lord Voldemort was disgusted with how little books there was in the large library, but luckily they had plenty of books to fill in the spaces and the books the Riddles had owned were educational.

After not hearing a thing from Harry for too long, he went back to the Master Bedroom to see what was wrong with his love.

But, Harry was not in the Master Bedroom, so he began to look at the nearby rooms.

He looked in three bedrooms before he found his Harry in a extremely-dusty...nursery.

Tom looked around the room, the dust was so thick it looked like it was fifty years old: Tom realized that this was his father's nursery.

And the sight he saw before him broke his heart: his darling Harry sitting on a broken rocking-chair, staring blankly at the yellowing-white crib that was in the center of the room, with tears silently streaming down his face.

Tom kneeled in front of Harry and wiped the tears off his face, speaking softly, "Please don't cry, love."

"I'm sorry, I'm just being overdramatic." Harry apologized

"It's natural for you to be feeling like this, love." Tom soothed, hugging him, "You've wanted to be pregnant with our child since you learned you could, and the only thing stopping us is that our child would be used as a political piece against us when it goes to school and it's creation would cause questions in the Ministry we don't want to attract."

"I know, I just can't help it." Harry apologized again, "I just see and hear about all the other Knights getting married and having kids, and I'm just a little envious."

Tom was silent for a minute, "When the war is over, love, how many children do you want?"

Harry thought quietly for a moment before saying, "Four. Two girls named Willow and Odette. And two boys named Ambrose and Zenith."

That broke Tom's heart even more: Harry had already thought of the details.

"Then, love, once this war is over we will create the children you desire." Tom promised

Harry smiled, "Lets go to sleep."

"That would be a good idea," Tom joked, "we have work tomorrow and a meeting at night."

Harry laughed quietly, and that made Tom feel a little better...