"Tom!" Abraxas whined. "I'm his Godfather. Are you ever going to let me hold him?"
The brunet, curled up on the bed in the Room of Requirement, gave him a very pointed side eye before he finally said "yes," but when the Malfoy Heir took a too eager step forwards shattered his hopes with an added "eventually" spoken in an amused drawl.
"Eventually?" and just like that the blonde was back to whining; ignoring the fact that his antics were causing the smirk on his friend's face to progressively grow wider. "Eventually? When, exactly, is this fabled 'eventually'?"
"When our practicals arrive for our N.E.W.T.s; I'll need someone to watch my precious serpent while I take mine." Tom ran the back of his knuckles along his son's pink cheek. Harrison seized the chance to stuff his bearer's thumb into his mouth. "Oh, my dear, I'll be in trouble once your teeth come in."
Harrison squealed around his thumb and kicked his stubby legs. Meanwhile, Abraxas was still prattling on in the background about the injustice of not being allowed to hold his Godson and neither Riddle could really bring themselves to care.
Pulling up short, the Malfoy Heir gestured at the crib. "Have you even put him in this bloody thing?"
"Yes."
"How often?"
"Once." Tom said. "He couldn't sleep through the night so I took him back to bed with me. I can only figure he likes to listen to my heartbeat."
"Right." He drawled, crossing his arms. "Harry was the one who couldn't sleep."
"He cries when I put him down."
"You won't be 'putting him down' I'll be holding him!" Abraxas said.
"He doesn't like it when other people hold him." Tom adjusted his son in his arms, gently pushing away the tiny pudgy hand which pawed at the emerald lapels of his school robes. "No, darling. You've eaten already."
"How would you know that your son doesn't like it when other people hold him when you don't let other people hold him?"
"I let Dumbledore hold him."
"Dumbledore! But you hate Dumbledore!" Abraxas spluttered.
"He vomited on him, Abraxas. Would you like to run that risk?" Tom asked primly.
"You don't seem at all concerned about 'running that risk'."
"I gave birth to him, died because of it and was promptly reanimated by the grim reaper himself. Siphoning vomit off my robes is the least of my concerns."
The blonde had to admit the other Wizard had a fair point. "I'm good enough with children to know better than to bounce them around when they've recently eaten. And it isn't like I'm going to run away with him; you'll be five feet away the entire time."
"Later."
"It's good to let him have contact with other people, Tom. Socialization is important."
"Later, Abraxas." Tom insisted. "There's plenty of time to socialize him enough to prevent my sweet serpent from growing up to be about as hospitable as a Red Cap. He was only just born and I've waited too long to finally be able to hold my son to allow someone else to have him."
"And you're going to be able to bring yourself to part with him come our N.E.W.T.s next week, are you?" Tom looked away. "Why not practice now."
"No."
"I'll even sit down, look." Abraxas dropped onto the side of the bed, making Harry squeal delightedly when the mattress bounced as a result. Tiny hands reached out towards him. "It looks like Harry doesn't have any sort of problem with the prospect."
The brunet huffed, still looking incredibly unhappy with the situation but handing the squirming bundle over. "Fine." He said. "Five minutes."
"Stingy." The look he received was a very clear warning. Abraxas ignored it, though no further comment on the matter was made as he reached out to gently pick up the little raven and set him in his lap. "Hello, little one." Harrison turned his head and fixed him with curious green eyes, burbling softly and reaching out with little fingers. "Yes, hello." Those fingers wound in his silvery hair, then tugged. "Ack!"
"Oh, did I forget to mention," Tom simpered, "that he likes hair?"
"No, you didn't 'forget to mention' that he likes hair." Gently disentangling those tiny fingers from their death grip on his hair and attempting to ignore the near psychotic laughter bubbling free of the cherubic raven, Abraxas leveled his friend in a mild glare. "You neglected to."
The brunet hummed. "Perhaps." He said. "Prove it."
The Malfoy Heir huffed and transferred the baby out of reach of his hair. Bouncing him gently on his knee and prompting peals of laughter from the little boy, watching Tom trace his fingers along the Hallows symbol branded against the pale skin of his forearm.
"Do you think you'll be seeing him again?"
Tom looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Him?"
"Death."
The brunet's eyes darkened. "I doubt it." He said. "But I suppose it's not impossible he might randomly decide to pop in at some point. Your times up."
Abraxas sighed and rolled his eyes but passed the little raven back to him. Tom coiled subconsciously around the little bundle and the infant nuzzled the fabric of his robes.
"You're going to start looking for a wife now, I'd assume?"
That side-eye was back again. "You sound jealous, Abraxas."
"I had to scratch and claw to get to the point where you'd call me a friend and Harrison is my Godson. I don't like the thought of sharing that hard earned position with some hussy tart."
"Then it's a good thing I haven't any intention of marrying some 'hussy tart' for the sake of my son when I have enough trouble sharing him with you." He said. "I have no need for a wife; the 'female presence' in his life will be Nagini."
Abraxas' eye roll was practically audible but Tom knew full well that he was pleased. "Single father, then?"
"I couldn't possibly do anything better with help than I can on my own; no reason to bring someone else in on it when they'll only increase the likelihood of buggering something up."
"Abu-guh!" Harrison added, sounding quite serious.
"Quite right, darling."
"You speak baby now, Tom?" Abraxas snickered.
"Fluently." He said. "It's a parent thing."
"How is Nagini with him?" the Malfoy Heir asked. "You haven't…left them alone together have you?"
"Briefly." Tom raised an eyebrow. "Abraxas, you're pale as a corpse."
"You left your two day old son alone with an over six foot long venomous magical snake?"
"He's the Heir of Slytherin, Malfoy. He needs to get used to snakes." He said. "And they get along famously; she even snapped at me when I came back."
"What next? Are you going to introduce him to the bleeding Basilisk for tea?"
"Once he's old enough to be able to go down into the Chamber of Secrets without getting sick and properly understand the magnitude and majesty of the creature that he's getting the privilege of seeing and speaking to."
"So once you're certain he can speak Parseltongue?"
"Of course." Tom said. "And not alone until he's much older."
The blonde let out a sharp sigh. "At least you're not entirely reckless."
"I know what I'm doing, Abraxas."
"Until you don't."
"I will Hex you, Malfoy."
"Thak!" The brunet only narrowly prevented his son from shoving his foot into his mouth.
Noticing where Tom's gaze laid Abraxas tilted his head. "You don't normally stare at the door. What are you thinking?"
"That I'm tired of keeping myself shut away in here, relying on the House Elves to send my meals." He shifted the infant in his arms and rose to his feet. "It's time I took back my place at my ancestor's table."