Warning: there will be smut, but I'll have it clearly marked out. I tried to make it as separated as possible for those who don't want to read but I'm afraid it sort of rounded the whole thing off quite nicely, so apologies for that. EDIT: I'm so sorry I forgot to mention anything about the Longbottoms, so I just added to the start a little interaction!

Harfang Longbottom didn't have any laughter in his eyes today, as he visited Harry. For a while, they just stood in silence. Neither seemed to know what to say. Then, Harfang spoke.

"This isn't right, Harry. You know he has the wrong intentions."

Harry sighed, nodded, and sat down.

"I ask again that you trust me, please. Trust that I know what I'm doing."

"I trust you. I don't trust him. I could never trust a dictator."

"Harfang..." Harry pleaded, knowing that he couldn't say anything to appease his friend.

"I thought you were better than this. I only have to trust that the you I thought I knew will come through."

"I promise I won't let you down."

No matter how much time it was that passed, Harry felt as if he would always hold a place in his heart for balls with Tom. Balls themselves were, naturally, tedious, but of course it had been through balls that Harry and Tom had managed to breach the gap between them. It was a necessary social bore, but for them, it held sentimental significance - well, for Harry at least. This one in particular was especially important to them both. This ball was being held in honour of Tom becoming Supreme Minister, and Harry taking the place of Minister of Magic. Supreme Minister was, admittedly, something that Tom had completely made up, but a Supreme Minister was the one thing that Britain needed in this time of turmoil; muggleborn extremists were terrorising the British wizarding community, and a strong, stable leadership was needed. The public didn't really care about a made up title.

Or at least that's what Tom had thought. Harry was not entirely on board with such blind trust in the public's fear, and managed to convince him that people weren't going to accept such blatant dictatorship, and that he should at least give the illusion of democracy. So Harry came up with a few additional points, which conveniently led himself to a bit of power too. Though the Minister of Magic was now appointed by Tom, the wizengamot was elected by the country, which was actually more democracy than they were used to, and issues would continue to be discussed and voted on in this fashion. The only difference was that if Tom didn't agree with the vote, he could overturn it. This is how he would maintain his power that he so desired. In order to overturn a bill, Tom would have to write an in-depth essay on exactly why he had chosen to do so, which of course the general public would never bother to read through, but would remain satisfied that he had a just reason for his actions. Harry would make sure to guide the wizengamot away from bills that Tom wouldn't like, but they would need that safety net for times when he couldn't.

Tom admitted it was a stroke of genius, but that didn't mean he wouldn't whine about the faff of having to go through all that paperwork just to make sure the country was how he wanted it.

And so, to celebrate this constitutional reform, which was incredibly well received by the people, thank you very much, a ball and dinner was being held. Tom sat at the head, with Harry to his side. It was not known that they were in a romantic relationship, though it was endlessly speculated that they were in a sexual one. They were always very careful not to show affection in public, though it was also very important for them to show a strong friendship so that the government looked strong. It was a tricky social game to play, but nothing outside the capabilities of Harry, and certainly not for Tom. Besides, the didn't need to show affection in public. They had the bedroom for that.

"The Malfoys have outdone themselves once again," Tom mused before placing another chunk of beef gracefully in his mouth. "I can't believe you were considering requesting the Rosiers host the ball."

"Yes, yes, you were right and I was wrong" Harry laughed. "Of course the Malfoys were the best choice, they always are. The food is exquisite."

He only received a satisfied hum in response.

"I was merely concerned that Abraxas may have been mildly disgruntled at the choice of Minister, him having always been one of your favoured."

"Don't be a fool; he would never question my choice in such a way. He should be perfectly happy with his role in media and propaganda; it is a vital role in keeping our country under control."

"True, true. Regardless, I was wrong. I could not have dreamed of a better reception for our claim to power."

"Quite. There is even a multitude of pretty ladies for you to dance with. I trust you did not go out of your way to include them on the guest list? Your sense of humour does have quite the self destructive nature, and you know I will not be pleased if they are here merely for their looks" Tom warned, but there was still an amused glint in his eye.

"I assure you, Tom, they are far more than just their looks. I have heard that they have the most alluring way of speaking; they're French, you know!"

There was a slight huff. "So long as you save some time to dance with me, and do not allow yourself to be too affected by their alluring accents, I shall not complain."

Harry smirked to himself. This certainly was a wonderful world that he now lived in.

Several pretty girls later, and Tom was at his limit. Harry really did enjoy his ladies too much, though Tom had learnt to trust that Harry would never choose any one of those girls over him, despite how he spun them around the room. It was a subtle difference – of course it had to be subtle – but it was nothing like how he danced with Tom. With Tom, for example, there was never a break in eye contact, even to make sure they didn't trip over each other. They didn't need to. With Tom, Harry had that look in his eye... those beautiful green eyes were not alight with the joy of dancing, but glowing with the comfort of love. Tom had learnt to recognise these things. With Harry, he had little control over his emotions, but the logic of recognising these things helped him see that Harry was truly his. It had not taken as long to get through as he'd thought it might.

"My apologies, mademoiselle," Tom all but purred, charming the lady beyond her even noticing that he had cut in. "I would like to take the time to dance with my new Minister."

The girl only giggled, skipping off with a little wave to Harry.

"If I didn't know how you felt about parseltongue, Harry" Tom began in a light tone, pulling the other man easily onto the dance floor, "I would be concerned about the rival language of French. How very predictable; everybody likes French, why not take an interest in, say, the Romanian accent?"

"Ah but Tom, the French know love" Harry sighed, almost melting into Tom's arms in dramatics. "But you need not worry; I much prefer the snobbish eloquence of the English accent, it reminds me of designer robes, and balls, and elitism, and, well, you!"

"Ha ha, how incredibly funny you are" Tom drawled out, refraining from rolling his eyes. He knew Harry was being serious despite the mockery, but that didn't mean he had to tolerate it. "Now stop fooling about or else the attendees with be rethinking their opinion on you as Minister. We do not need a clown, we need a ruler."

"Yes, quite right, we have very important work to be doing. Just not tonight. We'll get started on the serious tomorrow!"

Tom just hummed in response. Harry needed to learn silence sometimes. So, instead of indulging the man with foolish conversation, he just led him around the dancefloor smoothly. It was a nice break from all the socialising, which had practically doubled since his new position; which was saying something, because he had always socialised a lot at balls. Harry smelt, even still, of freedom. Not freedom specifically, obviously, freedom would never have a scent. But he smelt of the outdoors, the smell of rain on wild grass, which reminded him in turn of the feeling he used to get when escaping the orphanage, the feeling of going on a gentle walk outside Hogwarts in the evening... All feelings that Tom had forgotten until Harry turned up. He had thought that such pleasures were useless, unnecessary, and he still believed that to an extent. Harry just, well, had a habit of bringing these things out of him. He knew he should find it annoying. That was always at the back of his head, really. But spending so much time with Harry made that a bit difficult, and, really? He was learning that he could have these feelings without losing his power over the people – they would never know if he didn't show it.

It was about 1am when they apparated back to the Potter Manor. There were still people left at the ball, but there was no reason for the two of them to stick around, especially when they had the excuse of work in the morning. Harry felt still a bit dazed from the thrill of the ball and how tiring it had been, but Tom seemed perfectly composed – he had been the safest option for apparition, and there'd been no question as to where they were both sleeping tonight. Tom complained that Harry's bed was more comfortable, but Harry suspected it felt more like home with Harry than in the house he had bought only out of convenience. He'd even asked that the covers were changed to a Slytherin green, despite denying any sentimental roots for the change.

"Harry," Tom murmured when they reached the bedroom, eyes locked with Harry's, smiling slightly. "We made it. The British wizarding community is under our control..." Harry felt hands come to rest on his hips.

There was a glint in his eyes now that Harry recognised easily, and felt himself growing excited just from the thought of it.

Their arms moulded around each other easily, sliding softly into place, and their lips came together in a gentle, but passionate, kiss. Tom's lips were soft and warm against Harry's as they kissed him over and over with such tenderness that he might've thought that Harry would break under anything harder.

While the experience did, of course, vary, the two men rarely fucked as they had that first time, unless they were feeling particularly kinky. What Tom and Harry had both become accustomed to, found comfort in, was love making. Soft touches elliciting delicate moans, soothing kisses all over the body removing any trace of hurt; a confession of love in every intimate thrust, because really, this was what they needed.

!

As soon as they reached the bed, they became one. Harry had told Tom about his past mental connection with Lord Voldemort, and even though this was not there between them, it may as well have been for how well they could synchronise their actions – Tom's pleasure was Harry's, just as Harry's pleasure was Tom's.

It was simply magnificent how their bodies moulded together, and by some unspoken agreement, the two men began to slowly unbutton each other's shirts, cool fingers gliding against flushed skin as they descended, always a teasing finger beneath the belt before their hands would wrap around each other again, Tom's arms beneath Harry, holding him up, and Harry's hands tangling into Tom's soft hair or feeling his skin reverently.

Their crotches occasionally coming together in their passionate embrace, the two were able to feel each other's arousals, getting hotter around the neck knowing that this, in turn, would arouse them both further. Warm tingles went through Harry's body as Tom lightly nipped and sucked at the skin of his neck, and Tom felt it too as Harry's breath hitched, occasionally breathing out with garbled parseltongue which travelled through their bodies like smooth, sweet, chocolate in their veins.

Slowly, they each removed their trousers, any distracted fumblings going largely ignored, and for a moment they just lay. Warm pale thighs relaxed against each other. The same breath being shared by each pair of lungs. Mussed hair brushing lightly against both of their foreheads.

"We did it, Tom" came the parseltongue, and Tom had wanted to capture the sound, but he only succeeded in sweetly kissing the lips that made it.

"Wizarding Britain is ours, and you are mine" Tom hissed back, rubbing gentle circles against Harry's cheek, almost losing himself in how soft it still was, despite the heat that lay beneath it.

"I am yours forever," Harry promised, green eyes melting into Tom's maroon ones to let the sincerity sink in.

After another soft kiss, Tom's hands moved down to hold Harry's buttocks, and already their excited knowledge of what was to come was evident. Their were soft and pliant beneath Tom's hands, and he let his fingers sink in momentarily, before muttering a spell and teasing his fingers inside the man. Harry immediately reacted, hissing out in parseltongue again, and allowing himself to arch onto Tom's raised body.

"Are you ready?" Tom hissed, knowing the answer.

A desperate "Yes" was the only response, and that was Harry's last coherent hiss of the night, as Tom moved inside of the man lovingly.

Gentle at first, they slowly increased the pace, both of their ecstasy echoing through the house.

Harry was perfection under the moonlight; red in the face, hair pitch black against Tom's white chest, body coated in a glistening sweat, and his chest still rising and falling heavily in bliss.

Tom was a painting of beauty; his usually neatly styled hair flopping over his forehead, eyes shining with triumph, cheeks flowering a rosy pink, and his heart beating a tattoo against his ribcage at this new feeling of love.

So this is it! That's the end, thank you so much for reading, and if you've been following the updates, thank you so much for sticking with it! I hope you all enjoyed the story, and if you're desperate for more, I am planning a new Harry/Voldemort fic which I'm quite excited about, so stick around for that and if you wanna know more about it review/PM me and I'll be happy to discuss!