If I owned Harry Potter, I would be living in a mansion somewhere warm. But no. I'm freezing my ass off here. Enjoy.

Some days were good days. Some days, Tony could get up to twenty dollars, and Harry could get the same amount, if not more from begging and pickpocketing. Some days, like today, Tony was reminded just how lucky he was as he sunk his teeth into a piping hot piece of pizza that he and Harry had just bought. They had a small box between them. An entire box! That was enough to feed them both for three days! Tony and Harry did pretty well for themselves some days. They didn't even have to say anything to each other. Tony knew that he could bring a smile to Harry's face with a silly word or twitching his ears on these days.

He had someone to protect him.

Well, it wasn't that Tony couldn't fight, but it was always good to have someone looking after you on the streets. Especially someone like Tony.

There were the Prowlers. They were new here. Scouring the streets for orphans and runaways who were unusually pretty or somehow special so they could sell them. Like Tony and Harry.

Harry was incredible, in Tony's eyes. Sixteen years old, but already 6'1 and about one seventy pounds of lean muscle. He had black hair and pale skin, and he was impossibly good looking. His features were sharpened and angled from living on the streets, and his eyes were dark and brooding, cunning, almost. And he had his magic. That made him a good catch for the Prowlers.

Tony was attractive to them in a different way. He was lithe, skinny, and pretty strong, too. He stood at about 5'2, which was a good height for them to sell as a soft sub. Someone that the master only cares for and orders around, not one like they would sell Harry to. And that was the main reason he didn't want to get caught. He and Harry wouldn't be sold together. Tony's eyes were an unremarkable blue to those who just glanced at him, but to those who he let see, they were a soft purple color. And his ears were special too.

Tony is what the Wizarding World liked to call a neko, but Tony found that incredibly degrading. The word was, Tony thought, Japanese for 'cat' and he wasn't a cat! He was a homo felis, a superior in every sense of the word to the stupid, mundane wizard! He didn't want to be chained up and treated like some sort of animal because he had a few feline characteristics! The cat ears were useful. He could hear a conversation clearly from three miles away if he concentrated, and the tail helped him with balance. The slitted pupils helped him to see in the dark, and helped his eyes adjust to light. And he could run pretty fast, too, but he wasn't sure if that was due to living on the streets, or his powers.

But he wasn't thinking of all that. Today, Tony was only focused on the pizza in his mouth. They'd had enough left today for the pizza, and Harry had let him splurge and they'd gotten a whole carton full of water bottles. That was the best gift anyone could give him. Clean drinking water was almost impossible to find in the streets of Paris.

Yeah, some days were good.

Even the worst of bad days was better than the bad days back where either used to be. Neither had ever wanted to go back.

Harry had left his hell when he was ten years old. His had been at the end of his uncle's belt, and in the cold stares of his neighbors. The plain uncaring for someone once they'd been deemed 'a delinquent'. Whoo, if only they could see him now. Tony allowed himself a small giggle. Harry had managed to find himself an old leather jacket, and he always had a black shirt on. Tony, on the other hand, was more soft. He had pulled a thick, woolen jacket off a bum and gotten away without him being the wiser. He was good at that. Thievery was one of Tony's strong suits.

But he didn't worry about that now. Right now, all he worried about was getting a bite of pizza into Harry's mouth every time that he tried to speak. He did pretty well. Only, after a few times, Harry got smart and caught his arm, taking the pizza and popping it into his mouth, then leaning down and planting a soft kiss on Tony's lips.

Yes, today was a very good day.

Some days were bad though.

Some days, he could barely move. Some days, he and Harry were pressed against each other to protect from the cold, unable to get even pennies. Some days, they curled up together, their only hung over the backs of chairs so they could dry. "I'm afraid," he would say.

And Harry, always the protector, would wrap his long arms around the boy and, without fail, say, "I love you. I will protect you. You have nothing to fear." So, Tony didn't. He just sat there, huddled in Harry's arms, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. He didn't like those days.

… Buuuut… the good days usually came after the bad days. So he could suffer through those bad days for the good days.

And then there were the really bad days.

Tony usually hid his ears under a beanie he wore. Harry thought it cute, but Tony hadn't seen himself in ages. He thought it looked cuter on Harry anyway.

Some of the gangs were curious about the boys though. They knew the two were special, hell, they'd fought off seven members of one of the biggest and baddest by themselves. Beaten them to hell and back. Well, Harry had. Tony had only beaten two of them. And he hadn't liked the feeling. Tony had cried after he'd seen what he could do. But Harry had comforted him. Said that it was okay, he'd done what he had to do. He needed to keep together. For both their sakes. But Harry was sweet with him. He'd indulged him, picking him up and carrying him back to their hide out.

The gangs mostly left them alone now. They paid a hundred bucks a month, and they weren't touched. Especially not Tony.

But sometimes Harry didn't come home.

Oh, he knew what had happened. He'd been caught pickpocketing or something and had been taken to a boy's home. He was 16, after all. But Tony, oh, Tony worried for him something fierce. They'd been marked as a target for some of the other gangs. None of them wanted to leave them alone because there were whispers of Tony being able to steal impossible things, and of Harry being able to fight like a demon. Everyone either wanted them or wanted them dead.

There were times when Harry came back bloody and bruised, barely able to stand. Tony immediately slipped under his arm and helped them to whatever they were using as a bed tonight. Often, it was only their coats laid side by side.

He then took their ever depleting supply of clean bandages from his pocket and wrapped all of his wounds and stitched what needed it. He hated having to hurt Harry, but it was only natural.

And then… Harry didn't come back at all.

Harry insisted that they move every ten days, but this time, Tony couldn't listen. How would Harry find him again? He just… he couldn't leave!

When Harry came back, he was furious. He'd smacked Tony, the only time he'd ever laid a hand on the boy. Tony, who had been knocked to the floor, looked up, hurt and confused as to what he'd done wrong. The things was, he accepted it. After a moment, he dropped his eyes. He put his hand to his cheek and smiled softly. "It's okay." He'd been expecting it. It had never happened again.

Yeah, the really bad days were awful.

But the good days were good. And Tony cherished them, so he endured the bad days, because he loved Harry. And that's what you do when you love someone.

AN: Thank you for making it this far. I haven't done much in a while, and this is the first thing I'm posting. Review, please, tell me what I'm doing wrong and please let me fix it. This is the backstory. I'll be telling the rest of the story in a different writing style.