Harry apparated onto the pavement a little ways up from where he lived. The snow that had fallen earlier that day crunching under his boots as he made his way up the street towards his home.

His parents had relinquished ownership of the cottage - and the family cat, Marmalade - a few years ago when they had decided to go on an extended vacation. They sent him postcards every week from whatever village, town or tourist spot they had seen. They intended to 'see the world' before choosing somewhere to settle down for their old age.

Harry's smiled at some of his neighbours and waved hello as he made his way past. Stopping to help old Bathilda get her cat down from the tree. Between Harry and the fence post, the old woman's levitation charms were just not what they used to be. And the old tom cat was grateful to have a steadier hand bring him down from his high perch.

After gently refusing her gratitude, Harry resumed his walk. Taking in the sights and smells of Christmas time. The decorated front yards and children building snowmen, all brought a smile to his face.

But that smile was quickly turned to a scowl as Harry took in his neighbour across the road. The house belonged to a wizard by the name of Tom Riddle. An enigmatic but frustrating man. He was always trying to do Harry in.

But Harry prevailed every year. Usually by the skin of his teeth and perhaps partial thanks to his parent's longstanding friendship with Albus Dumbledore.

Harry's hand clenched tightly around the bag in his hand. He would not let this man get the better of him like he had his parents. They had left on their round-the-world trip the year after Riddle had defeated them in the Annual Christmas Light Competition.

The man was quite smug about that fact too, he would rub it in Harry's face whenever he could. Saying things like, "The last time I won, the runners-up had to leave town."

It wasn't true, James and Lily had their trip planned for years, but that fact did little to cool Harry's blood whenever the stupidly handsome man would make some snide remark. Harry was not going to roll over and let him win again.

So far, Harry's luck had held true and Harry had yet to lose to his greatest nemesis. Stupid, good looking, stomach fluttering bastard that he was.

He looked over the front yard opposite his house with a critical eye, were those? They were! That bastard! He'd used the snow that had fallen earlier that day to make snowdeer! The reindeer were in various positions around the yard. Grazing, sleeping, standing. He must have been at it all day to make those!

Harry could see the charms preserving them from here. Muttering under his breath about people who didn't have to work for a living and had too much time on their hands he let himself inside.

Harry marched up his stairs and into the attic. Rummaging around the dusty objects until he found what he was looking for. Crowing with delight he brought the box downstairs. Coughing away the cloud of dust when he opened the lid he floated out the string of lights. They were perfect. Exactly what he needed to go with the sleigh he had just brought that would sit along the gutterline. He looped the length of lights over his neck and grabbed the bag he had purchased on his way home, he headed out to the front yard. Marmalade watching him the entire time with judgemental eyes set in his squashed face. Harry ignored him.

Undoing the necessary ties that held the inflatable sleigh together, Harry jabbed his wand at the inflation point and muttered the charm. The sleigh quickly grew and Harry had to drop his wand to stop it from toppling over. Gathering the sure-to-get-the-judges-attention inflatable monstrosity in his arms, he navigated the slightly icy sidewalk carefully and began to climb the ladder. Regretting the fact that his broom was too iced up to be of any help.

Leaning on the sleigh instead of using his hands, Harry slowly made his ascent. It was a good thing he had decent balance he thought, or this could be really dangerous.

Finally, he made it to the top. Positioning the overly large ornament carefully. He used the ties to secure it to the gutter brackets and then he pulled the lights from around his neck and climbed another rung. He started to loop the lights strategically over the sleigh. In dainty swags over the side. Straight down the sides and over the runners.

The front of was just out of reach though.

Harry searched his pockets for his wand and groaned when he spotted it on the ground. He judged the distance of the front of the sleigh, it wasn't so far, he told himself. He only needed to reach a little. Ignoring the dire warnings of the shop girl who had sold him the ladder many years ago. He held the lights between his fingertips and stretched.

That was it.

This was easy.

All. Most. There.

Harry's fingertips brushed the end of the sleigh runner and he tilted them to allow the lights to slide off. As they settled into place he let out a sigh of relief. This proved to be too much for the ladder though, and Harry could only watch wide-eyed as the pavement rushed up to meet him before all was black.

Tom had been sitting by his sitting room window sipping a cup of tea. Waiting for his pretty little rival to come home. His chair was set in the perfect position to watch his neighbour as he took his usual route down the street. He wanted to see the look on his face when the younger man saw his reindeer, it had absolutely nothing to do with the way Potter looked. Nothing at all.

His reindeer were superb to say the least and they had only taken six hours to complete Tom thought smugly. A day well spent if it provoked the reaction he hoped it would.

He watched as Harry Potter walked down the street, chatting to neighbours, helping old Ms Bagshot with her cat. Tom could not help but ruminate on how it might feel to have some of Potter's positive attention focused on him. The most he got was a handshake at the end of every Christmas competition. Not that Tom tried overly hard throughout the rest of the year. Content to plot and scheme for their next battle of the baubles, they barely exchanged more than a nod other than that.

Tom tried to tell himself he didn't care. But he couldn't lie to himself at night, when he was all alone in his ridiculously large bed dreaming of green eyes and golden skin.

Finally though, he noticed. Tom's satisfied grin grew wider as he observed the scowl that furrowed Potter's brows and he sipped his evening tea in victory.

The messy-haired young wizard stalked into house and Tom watched as the lights came on in the attic. Shadows moved erratically before the lights went out again and Potter reappeared in his front door. Strings of lights around his neck and something red and shiny in his hands.

Tom shifted to watch him with interest. What was he going to do now?

Potter jabbed his wand at the thing in his hands and quickly grew in front of Tom's eyes. He continued to observe as Potter scrambled to keep a hold of the giant, sled, yes sled Tom noted, dropping his wand in the process.

He continued to spy as Potter started to climb the ladder. Was this intolerably handsome man an idiot? Surely he knew that wasn't safe? And without his wand? Merlin's beard! Tom muttered to himself.

But Potter made it up the ladder in one piece and Tom grumbled about some people having all the luck. Draining his tea, he settled once more to see exactly what it was that Potter had planned and started thinking of ways to counteract it without coming off too cheesy or gaudy.

So caught up in his thoughts, and the attractive curve of Potter's bottom, he didn't take note as Potter started to lean out from his ladder. It was only when he saw him reaching that he leant forward in his chair, knuckles white where he clutched at the arms.

And then Potter fell.

Tom could have sworn he heard the sickening crack from where he sat. He was out of his seat and out the door before he even realised what he was doing.

Racing over to Potter, wary of the slippery pavements, Tom crouched beside the young man. He felt his head under that massive nest of dark hair and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it intact.

Green eyes fluttered open and he wondered if Potter was truly awake. Especially when the words that came out of his mouth were not at all what he would expect. "Tom? What are yo- Why don't you like me?"

"Excuse me?"

"You don- You don't like me," Harry slurred, "Always smirking, stupid beautiful- laughing eyes, but you-"

With that uttered, his eyes rolled up and he fainted properly.

Harry woke with a weak groan and a cold head. It was in stark contrast to the warmth the rest of his body was feeling. A hand on his shoulder prevented him from sitting up and he opened his eyes blearily.

"Wha-?"

"You fell. Like an idiot. Off of your ladder. What were you even thinking?"

Harry blinked slowly and the owner of the familiar voice came into focus. "Riddle?"

A snort answered him, "You can't blame me for your accident. No matter how much you may want too."

"That's not-," Harry broke off into a groan, his head was throbbing.

"Here," Riddle helped him to sit up against the arm of the couch he was evidently laying on and whilst his tone was brusque, his hands were not. They gently raised him into a sitting position and Harry felt oddly warmed at the touch. It was almost as if Riddle cared for him. If only that were true, Harry thought as he pressed his hands into the couch to steady himself.

Harry watched Riddle disappear for a moment, before he came back, holding a few phials in his hand.

"How are you feeling? Dizzy? Nauseous? How many fingers am I holding up?" The man fired the questions at him rapidly.

Harry shook his head to order them and winced at the throbbing that caused. He lifted a hand to area and felt a bump.

"Fine, my head hurts though."

Riddle raised a demanding eyebrow at him. Eyes flicking pointedly to his fingers.

Harry sighed, "Three."

He received a curt nod for his trouble before Riddle lifted the cold compress back to his head. Harry sighed at the immediate relief it brought. He watched as Riddle cast a few spells on him. Harry recognised them as similar to that which his mother used to cast on when he was little and had fallen ill. Though some of them were a little unfamiliar.

"I didn't know you knew healing magic." Harry said, uncomfortable in the silence surrounding them.

Riddle raised his eyes to look at him directly, "I was a healer before I was forced out of the profession."

"Forced out?" Harry asked, realising his curiosity in the man went beyond his looks, though that wasn't something he had admitted to anyone. Barely even himself outside the privacy of his shower.

"Yes, by your glorious Dumbledore." Riddle said disparagingly. Thrusting a few potions at him, "Drink these."

Harry remembered the whispers about Riddle now, about how he was a Dark wizard. About how he opposed Dumbledore quite regularly in the political minefield. Harry rarely paid attention to such things. His focus more tightly focused on his Quidditch and in the off-season, helping his friends in their various pursuits.

Harry looked at the potions he held and recognised them as basic healing potions and an anti-inflammatory potion. Feeling there was no harm in taking them, Harry unstoppered the phials and drank. Riddle plucked the empty bottles from Harry's hands and banished them elsewhere in the house.

Silence reigned between them for a few long moments. "Erm, thank you. For the healing." Harry added unnecessarily. "But I should- probably get going."

He made to stand but was stopped by Tom's firm hand on his shoulder. "You aren't going anywhere. You need to be monitored every two hours for the next day."

Harry frowned, he hadn't heard of that before, but then what he knew of healing would fill a cup and no more. "But, my cat. I can't leave him there all night. I need to feed him."

Harry watched as Tom's nostrils flared slightly. He was so focused on watching his face that he didn't notice his wand before he was forcibly restrained to the chair by an incarcerous spell. "Hey! What are you doing?"

A gag joined the bonds and Harry glared at Tom's back as he swept out of the room. Harry struggled in the binds for several long minutes. He was just about to try silently summoning his wand to himself when Tom reappeared freeing him from the restraints and dropping his cat into his lap.

Harry was silent as he tried to wrap his mind around the sudden event. He looked up to see Tom floating two bowls down into the corner of the room. One filled with water and the other with what looked like diced fish. Marmalade butted his head against Harry's chest before jumping down. Trotting quickly over to the bowl before starting to wolf down the fish eagerly. Traitor, Harry thought.

"Have you eaten?" Tom asked abruptly.

"Erm, no." Harry replied.

Tom nodded once and then swept out of the room again. Harry felt awkward just sitting around so he made to follow him out the room. He came to a long hallway. Most of the house was dark, but from what Harry could see it was expertly looked after and well maintained. There was light spilling from one doorway and the sounds of cupboards opening. He followed his senses and came upon the sight of Tom standing in the middle of an open kitchen, ingredients flying around him as he directed them into a large pot and saucepan.

Harry sat in on a stool conveniently located alongside a large bench as he watched his neighbour in a setting he had never envisioned before. Tom's moves were graceful and Harry felt a stirring below his belt at the sight of him moving confidently around his kitchen. His magic washing over Harry occasionally as he shot spells without thought.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked softly, not wanting to distract Tom too much from his task as a knife deftly cut into a ripe tomato.

Tom threw him a calculating glance before silently levitating a block of cheese and a grater in his direction.

Harry picked up the items and began his task as he watched Tom prepare the meal out of the corner of his eye. The simple pasta dish was soon finished and Tom levitated two bowls in front of him as he gestured for Harry to follow him through to the adjacent dining room.

Harry made sure that his robes were sufficiently covering any potentially embarrassing scenes before he picked up the bowl of cheese and followed him.

Harry sat in the seat next to Tom's and picked up his fork. He followed Tom's example and quickly dug into the hearty meal. Groaning at the taste and suddenly realising how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten since lunchtime.

His gaze wandered around the room as he ate, his dining companion seemingly content to eat in silence. Harry took in the impersonal decor and wondered what Tom did with himself when he wasn't trying to one up Harry with Christmas decorations.

Deciding to be the brave Gryffindor he was, and partly just to break the heavy silence, he asked. "So, erm, what do you do?"

Tom paused and set his fork down as he took in Harry's weak question. "What do I do?" he reiterated.

Harry nodded and gestured with his fork, Tom's eyes narrowing on the end where a strand of spaghetti was dangerously close to flicking sauce everywhere. Harry quickly curbed his movements, "Yeah, you know, when you're not be an arse about Christmas lights."

Tom's eyebrows shot into the air at Harry's language, and Harry winced internally, though he was determined not to let Tom see his sudden hesitance. "I brew potions and create spells for St Mungo's. Just because I no longer practice does not mean I no longer work."

"Oh," Harry said, "That's.. Interesting." Actually, it was the exact opposite of interesting Harry thought privately, it sounded dreadfully boring. Stuck inside all day with just potions and arithmancy to keep you company? He barely suppressed a shudder at the thought.

He heard a soft snort and looked back up into deep blue eyes. "Do not pretend for my sake, Harry." Tom said as he leant forwards. Harry's breath caught in his throat with the way Tom's voice caressed his name and the way his eyes seemed to catch him on the spot like a snake ready to strike.

Harry suddenly found himself wondering if there was something to Tom's earlier statement of needing to be monitored after a concussion. He was feeling a bit light-headed all of a sudden, and the self-satisfied smirk that was slowly forming across Tom's features was not helping for some reason. Harry felt his trousers tighten again at the look Tom had suddenly fixed him with and licked nervously at his lips.

Harry sat frozen as he watched Tom turn to face him fully. Watched as moved closer to Harry, a hand reaching out to cradle the back of his head. Was he checking for sudden swelling? It was the only reason Harry could think that would spark the sudden intensity in Tom's eyes. There was no reason to think that Tom returned any of Harry's inappropriate thoughts. No reason at all. Except..

Tom's face was coming closer, and closer still and Harry sat statue-like, waiting for him to finish his examination when Tom's lips abruptly pressed against his own.

Harry gasped in shock, two thoughts battling for dominance in his head, the first thinking that this was no medical procedure he'd ever heard of, while the second one berated him for his stupidity.

He very quickly came to the conclusion, when Tom's tongue swept into his mouth to press against his own, that this was definitely not a healer thing and that Tom was kissing him. Kissing him. Not that Harry had the faintest idea why.

Harry heard a soft groan before he realised it was coming from himself and the clatter of utensils on porcelain drew his attention to the fact that his hands were now entwined in the lapels of Tom's robes and that Tom was all but pulling him into his lap.

Harry broke the kiss, pulling back and panting softly as he looked wide-eyed down at the man underneath him. He knew he must look a mess. He could feel the heat in his cheeks and his hair was always a hopeless case. His robes were rumpled from the fall and his lips tingled in such a way that he knew they were plumper than usual.

Tom looked supremely undisturbed, not a hair out of place, and entirely unrepentant of his actions as he rose an eyebrow at Harry. Harry scowled at the unspoken challenge and vowed to see Tom completely undone by the end of the night. He thrust his hands into Tom's hair as he surged forwards, bringing their lips back together in a bruising kiss. Figuring that there would be time later, much later to figure out the why of things when Tom was perfectly willing to continue with the kissing and perhaps other such things.

FIN

AN: Don't forget to find me on fbook and on Ao3 under the same name.
(My Ao3 account also contains more works, partly because you can't post anything explicit on here, so I have some PWP stories there *winkwink* but mostly because it is infinitely easier to post on Ao3 than it is here. Sorry guys, but it's true. You'll get quicker updates on that site than this one.)