When Harry managed to finally pull himself back into consciousness he severely regretted it. The pounding in his head was unbearable. The light streaking in through the dirty windows was blinding and the ratty blanket that had been thrown over him was likely the source of the foul odor that had his nose wrinkling.

He would have let himself fall back into the blessed silence were it not for the feeling that he was being watched. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before slowly letting his eyelids part as he began to take in the rest of the room.

Harry sat on a ratty but solid small single bed with worn sheets and the holey blanket. The pillow was flat and it seemed that his head had squished all of the stuffing to the sides. The wallpaper existed in scraps and the floors were in desperate need of a cleaning. Which was when he noticed a vaguely familiar armoire and another bed. Practically a duplicate of his own, albeit with a slightly nicer blanket.

Upon it was the source of the staring.

He forced his eyes to focus on the figure and managed to refrain from flinching as the cold brown gaze bored into him.

"Hello?"

An eyebrow rose but there was no response from the other boy.

Harry frowned and bit his lip. He felt like he knew this boy… He felt like he, well like he was supposed to be here for this boy. But Harry had no idea why he had felt that way. All he remembered was Aunt Petunia throwing him out of the house and walking like he always did. He usually came back after the sunset and crawled into his cupboard without a word.

But he doesn't remember how he got to the steps of the little worn-down building or why. All he remembers is the sharp relief of life followed by a triumphant feeling of success. Then the dark eyes that were right now judging his worth as he tried to figure out what happened.

"My name's Harry."

More silence but at least the judgmental eyebrow had disappeared.

"Um… Do you know where I am?"

No answer appeared forthcoming. So Harry just nodded once and turned his gaze away from the taller boy and back to his ratty blanket where he tugged at the loose strands without tearing them out any further.

"I'll just have to ask the lady from before I guess…"

When the little boy still said nothing, Harry leaned back on the bed and sighed. This way nicer than his cupboard, his toes didn't touch the wall and he could stretch out. Not to mention the fact that the little spiders weren't crawling all over his face.

There were several moments of silence before the other boy seemed to deem the situation dire enough to actually communicate with the Harry child that now occupied his room.

"Go on then." His voice startled the younger boy and Harry nearly fell of his bed, causing Tom to smirk.

Harry frowned, "What do you mean?"

"You were going to ask Mrs. Cole something."

Harry nodded, "I am."

"Then why are you still here?"

"I'm not allowed to leave a room unless someone's come to get me." Harry sounded uncertain, he wondered if the rules were changed here.

The other boy frowned, "Why not? The door is not locked."

"I'm a freak and I upset people when I'm in their presence. I'm supposed to be quiet and pretend that I don't exist."

Harry watched as the other boy's head tilted to the side as though he was staring at a half-finished puzzle and needed to figure out what the picture was supposed to be. Harry felt uncomfortable and tucked his gaze away and decided it was safer to wait than to risk breaking the rules.

The boy looked critically at him but made no move to confirm or deny his decision so Harry did nothing else. He gently ran his fingers over the tattered blanket. He could tell it was old, but it was softer than anything he had ever been allowed. At least he figured it was okay for him to touch it. He suddenly pulled his hand back. Moving slowly carefully he left the bed and backed into the nearest corner. Which just so happened to leave him looking at the boy again.

His head was turned nearly sideways as he took Harry in. The green-eyed boy met his gaze. This boy didn't seem like Dudley, but he wasn't like Harry either. He wondered what the rules were here, obviously the boy was okay with looking at Harry, so that was one rule Harry didn't have to worry about anymore. Maybe he could be seen here…

"Why are you in the corner?"

Harry blinked slowly, "It's the rules. I was sleeping before so that might be okay, but I can't break the rules when I'm awake."

"What are these rules you keep talking about?"

"I'm not allowed to be too noisy, I'm not allowed to make a mess. I must clean, everything must be spotless. I must stay in my room and pretend that I don't exist. I'm not to be a bother, any more than my mere existence already accrues naturally."

The taller boy blinked in response and lifted himself from the bed. He cast an odd look in Harry's direction before making his own way out of the room with a haughty air. He was obviously issuing a challenge to Harry, proving that he could leave freely. But Dudley had down that many times, and Harry now knew a trick when he saw one.

Harry huddled in the corner of the now silent room and waited anxiously to see what would happen. Was the boy telling the lady that Harry had broken the rules? He hadn't meant to. Everything just seemed so fuzzy right now. Nothing was making sense.

He shook his head, he vaguely remembered that he was supposed to be here. He'd chosen to be here. He also knew that something was wrong with… well here. He had no idea what exactly it was that had brought him here. The last thing he remembered was Uncle Vernon kicking him out of the house. Harry had meant to go back, he had to Aunt Petunia always yelled at him for staying out too long. Plus they may lock the door again.

Maybe the people here could send him back? All he would have to do would be to give them the Dursley's address. He frowned down at the floor and felt his forehead crease- he couldn't remember the address. He didn't even know where he was now. Had he hit his head?

He shrugged to himself, it probably didn't matter though. He couldn't say that he really wanted to go back. Maybe they had left him here. They had threatened him plenty of times with the orphanage, maybe they had finally had enough of his freakishness and had kicked him out of the car. Harry frowned, but he didn't remember that. He couldn't remember a lot of things though so who knew what was going on.

Harry eyed the ratty old blanket on the bed. An actual bed. With clean sheets, an extra blanket, a real pillow, and a window! If those were actually his, then maybe the orphanage wouldn't be that bad… He glanced over at the other boy's side of the room. If he got to stay here, maybe he would actually have a friend! And it looked like the other boy was allowed on the bed. He even had a few toys and they didn't look like they were broken.

Harry nodded once to himself, still firmly in the corner. He wouldn't tell them anything. If they figured it out so be it, but for now…

For now, Wool's Orphanage suited Harry just fine.

(0,0)

It turned out, Tom (the boy had a name after all) had gone to tell Mrs. Cole about the new boy and how he wasn't feeling very well. And was acting quite strangely.

Mrs. Cole had been immediately terrified. She had known it was a bad idea to place the little boy in Tom's room, but he had insisted and there really was nowhere else they could have placed him. She rushed up the stairs, barely hearing Tom muttering behind her. If Tom was saying the boy was acting strangely, something must be terribly wrong.

So it was with surprise that Mrs. Cole found herself standing in a completely intact room, without blood, tears, or anything else to condemn the older to a week of bathroom cleaning duty. She frowned though when she couldn't see the little boy either. It wasn't until Tom shouldered elegantly passed her and back to his bed where he sat primly on the edge and spoke to the wall.

"Mrs. Cole is here to disperse you of your idiotic notion of these ridiculous rules. But you are going to have to leave the corner and stand properly to speak with her."

That was when the little boy seemed to slowly, reluctantly drag himself from the corner, his feet seeming to drag further behind his body than physically possible. He seemed worried about being in trouble with the matron, though for what Mrs. Cole couldn't decide.

"Can I help with something?"

The little boy shifted, "Ummm…" He scuffed a shoe against the floor.

Mrs. Cole waited as long as her tattered patience would allow but nothing else seemed to be forthcoming. Perhaps he needed a little more guidance. She heaved a deep sigh.

"Perhaps we could start with your name."

Tom seemed to frown at that but otherwise said nothing, keeping his eyes on the smaller boy.

"It's Harry… Just Harry."

She raised an eyebrow but decided that could be dealt with later, "And how old are you?"

Harry gave a timid smile, "I'll be eleven soon. At the end of July."

She found herself incapable of hiding her own smile in return, "Quite soon then. Barely a month until then. And how did you get here?"

He shrugged and his eyes fell back to the floor.

"Where do you live?"

He scraped his toe again but otherwise gave a noncommittal shrug once again, "With my aunt and uncle, I guess."

"And where are they?"

"Dunno, last I remember was Uncle throwing me out. He told me not to come back."

Her lips tightened at the way the boy seemed to think that was normal, acceptable even. Unfortunately the boy seemed to notice her anger and flinched back towards the wall. This was when Tom seemed to deem his assistance necessary.

"Ask her about the rules, Harry."

She turned to reprimand him. The boy would talk when he was ready and pushing him to do anything else would be less than helpful, but then the boy seemed to nod.

"I'm afraid I may have broken some rules already…"

Mrs. Cole forced her expression back to neutral but couldn't hide her curiousity, "What rules did you break?"

Harry flinched, but then seemed to dutifully recite the rules he'd been breaking. Apparently, rules designed to convince him of his worthlessness. And made impossible for him not to break.

"I disturbed your peace and quiet. I made a nuisance of myself. I invaded Tom's space. I was sleeping on the furniture. And I made a mess with my shoes."

Mrs. Cole followed his glance to wear his shoes lay. She had taken them off of him before laying him down. She hadn't even notice the little pile of dirt around the soles.

"…Those are not the rules we have here. You have not done anything wrong, except perhaps not coming to see me the instant you were awake, however I can make an exception as you were likely unaware both of this expectation and of my whereabouts."

Harry frowned, "What are the rules?" Suddenly he flinched, "Sorry!"

Mrs. Cole suspected this case was going to severely try her patience. "What for this time?"

"I is not supposed to be asking questions."

"You should say I 'am' not supposed to be asking questions. Grammar aside, I would like it very much if you would as questions. Do not be a nuisance, as myself and the staff have quite a lot to do around here, but feel free to ask any of us or the children here anything you like."

Harry nodded, but didn't repeat his question. She gave in with a whisper of a breath.

"The rules here are simple. Do not act recklessly. Which is to say, no climbing on walls, jumping down the stairs, or hanging out windows. Report to myself or another staff member should you be injured. Meals are to be taken three times a day with the others. Lights are out by 9 for everyone under the age of 12. And you will clean up after yourself."

Harry nodded, "I won't be reckless. I'll eat with everyone. I'll clean up. And I'll be in bed."

"And if you get hurt?"

The little boy bit his lip, "I don't get hurt. It always gets better before anyone can see."

She gave a little smile, "Well if it doesn't get better right away, come speak with me, alright?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

She nodded and turned to leave but the timid voice called out after her, "Excuse me?"

She turned her head to look at Harry, though he deliberately avoided eye contact, "Does this mean I can stay?"

"For now."

And she left.

(0,0)

Mrs. Cole and the rest were very concerned about the new boy. He was beyond small and despite the fact he had insisted emphatically that he knew he was turning eleven, they didn't quite believe it. He could pass as seven perhaps but ten?

They were even more worried when he seemed to develop and obsession with his new roommate. Everyone was skeptical, anxious really, about the arrangement. They were counting the days until the little boy got hurt. Tom didn't like the small children. Even more he disliked weak children and knowing what Harry had gone through (he didn't talk about it but the flinching and avoidance of furniture spoke loud and clear) they didn't see how Tom could see him as anything but weak. In fact, the matron had been trying to rush her connections to get their oldest (a 17-year-old girl named Missy) out of the house and into a new position now instead of when she turned eighteen.

But the day Tom attacked the little one never came. In fact, the older boy seemed to flourish with the attention. He was still bitter towards everyone and everything, but Harry. The boy didn't take notice of the way Tom would nearly manage to smile instead of smirk when Harry didn't ask if he could leave his room. The way the taller boy would shorten his strides when Harry's quiet steps were heard coming down the hall.

As the weeks passed and nothing happened the staff began to relax. Oh they still insisted the boy had an extra helping of dinner, Lillian (one of the women who helped Mrs. Cole) always brought him a candy during her shift, they made sure that he was asking for things and refused to deny him anything he remembered to ask for (which so far had been a toothbrush), but they stopped hovering every moment.

Perhaps they still would have watched carefully, but Penelope, their youngest charge, had managed to get pneumonia of all things and they had their hands full with the sick four-year-old. So the moment Harry found a moment of peace and managed to slip away, he accepted it gratefully. He wasn't used to all of this attention and there was a niggling in the back of his mind. He felt like he was forgetting something.

He thought for sure that if he could just get a few minutes by himself and out of the way it would come back to him. But it turned out to be a lot harder to lose Tom than he thought it would be. He was very much confused, the boy seemed to run ahead of him all the time and waited for him only with obvious impatience, and yet he couldn't seem to shake the older boy today.

Every time he thought he was on his own, Tom would suddenly appear. First it was in their room, he'd been in the door for all of five minutes when it suddenly opened again and Tom was inside carrying a book. Harry hadn't really known why the boy was in there or why he had decided to be there now, but when he settled in to read Harry had only frowned slightly before making his way out.

He was proud of himself for only hesitating slightly at the door.

Then Tom appeared in the kitchen where Harry was helping to cook. Then under the rundown tires which served as a climbing post for the kids. Then in the hallway. Tom even found him when he tried hiding in the supply closet, his story was that he was getting a mop. Yeah. Right…

So when he managed to make it to the alley behind the home without being spotted he nearly let out a whoop of joy. But there was no doubt in his mind that the noise would draw his unwelcome shadow's attention. So instead he settled down on an old broken crate, right next to the dumpster were Penelope's last diaper had been thrown, and he let himself think.

It wasn't until a single hand wrap around his throat and the air was forced from his lungs as a large body shoved him against the wall that Harry regretted his decision to try and find some space to think.

(0,0)

Tom had been frantically looking for Harry. More so than he would ever admit. He was sure that even Penelope could tell that he… tolerated the other boy by now. He frowned at his behavior and turned his thoughts inward. Perhaps he could deduce where the child would go.

Although he wasn't sure how that would go. The boy was different and confusing from the moment he passed out on the front lawn and looked up at Tom with a smile. And even when Tom had been mean to him (on his first night no less) the boy had continued to smile at Tom at least once a day.

He had reluctantly grown to like the little boy who had become his shadow. He'd been waiting for the boy to run away scared the instant the matron offered to free another room but he'd just frowned and asked if he had to move.

Tom had been more stunned than the matrons. They all assumed that perhaps the boy liked the quiet or that the young one had been able to reach out to Tom some way no one else had. Tom knew though that he had been as cold and as distant as ever.

The threadbare blanket that had graced Harry's bed upon his awakening had been Tom's. It had been Tom's for five years now. When he saw the practically new blanket that had graced the new boy's bed he hadn't hesitated before swapping them. The new boy would probably only be there for a day or two anyway.

That night though, listening to the boy shivering despite the rather warm spring weather, he'd changed his mind.

He couldn't sleep with all of the boy's racket. That was the story he told himself as he laid the nicer blanket over the small boy. And he would have stuck to it. Until he awoke the next morning with the same blanket draped over his body. Harry was tucked in a shaking ball under the thin ratty thing which had belonged to Tom.

That was the first time Tom noticed the unnatural passiveness of this little boy. He seemed so much more mature than the rest of the kids at the orphanage.

The way he endured silently, ignored the other kids teasing his clothes and glasses (which was a tad ridiculous seeing as none of them had decent clothes anyway), and waited with patience. The little one was always offering to help and seemed disappointed when someone sent him away without a mission to complete. It all annoyed the older boy, who quite frankly did not understand any of it.

However he was drawn to the little boy who seemed determined to follow him, but not to listen, just to be there. So when the little one started acting strangely, Tom wanted to know why. But the boy kept moving and hiding! He had searched the entire building and the entire yard, but nothing. Which made some sense if the boy was hiding then he wouldn't exactly want to be found and Tom had found him in all of the usual places.

Tom shook his head slowly as he made his way into the yard and turned to go around the building.

He would hide away from everything, and with how bad the little ones had been sick, no one wanted to be near the dumpster in the alley. Seeing as Tom had pushed him out of everywhere else there wasn't exactly a plethora of places to choose from. He rounded the corner and started in, only to come face to face with reality.

The good part was that Harry was in fact in the alley. The bad news was that he was nearing unconsciousness as the three bigger boys were slaming ming his head against the wall repeatedly. He watched as the dull green eyes slowly looked around for inspiration, lighting on the shirt Tom was wearing.

"Help, Tom, please."

The eyes shut and Tom flung out his hand without thinking. The boys stumbled away from Harry and found themselves tossed against the ground. He only spared them a glance. Their hearts when they found themselves suddenly frozen stiff.

He wasted no further time with them, reaching for the younger boy. He barely seemed five when Tom lifted him into his arms and hurried back inside. His usually strong voice trembling as he called out for Mrs. Cole.

The matron rushed out at the new voice and stumbled only once at the sight of Tom. He never noticed. His eyes were locked on the little body he had laid on one of their small, worn couches. She focused in.

"What happened?"

"It was Francis, Fred, and Fillipe. They had cornered him in the alley. I don't know what they were doing, is he going to be okay?"

She turned stern eyes on him, "You need to keep the other children out of here. Don't tell them what happened, and don't get them interested. They need to stay out. Get Missy in here, right quick."

The boy seemed determined to stay but then shook his head. He flew into motion and it was only minutes later that the door clicked once again and Missy was stepping into the room with hot towels and a basin of water.

"How did you know?"

"Tom said you would need them. What happened? Was it Tom?"

The matron shook her head, "No. But by the bruises I think we can safely say Tom may have just saved this boy's life."

(0,0)

When the door opened, Tom was standing right there in the hallway.

The matron cursed and her hand flew to her heart even as her weary mind struggled to keep her upright.

"Well? Will he be alright?"

She heaved a sigh, "Most likely. Missy will stay with him tonight, you will return to your room. I am afraid I must relieve Miss Lillian. Janet will be needing her meds soon."

Tom's forehead furrowed as he looked into Mrs. Cole's eyes. Just as in the past she got the niggling feeling that she was being read in ways she couldn't possibly understand. Then suddenly, Tom nodded once. Not quite sure what happened, she turned to the stairs and barely contained a curse at their now endless quality.

"I can help Miss Lillian. Perhaps Janet would like to hear a story."

Mrs. Cole tripped on the first step, "What?"

"You are not feeling well, so you should sleep. I can help Miss Lillian."

"Why?"

Tom's head tilted and he suddenly looked so much more like the eleven-year-old boy he was.

"Am I not supposed to help? I thought you wanted everyone, too."

She pinched the corner of her mouth between her teeth as she spoke, "Well, yes. But you are typically more inclined to clean rather than assist with the children."

Tom shrugged, "I never got the chance."

The matron could hear the 'before Harry' ringing between them and silently wondered if that was what she had been missing all along. Perhaps if Tom had just been with the other children more… But she shook her head. There were other times to think on this.

"Very well. You go and select some stories. I will speak to Miss Lillian."

As soon as the boy was gone, Mrs. Cole forced herself up the stairs at an unprecedented rate. She had somewhat disturbing, yet hopeful news to report after all.

(0,0)

Something strange happened in the orphanage after that day. The older boys had been keeping a wide berth in regards to both Harry and Tom. They seemed to actually tread carefully around all of the children. To everyone's surprise, it became obvious that it was Harry they were actually avoiding. Although Tom, who had been forthcoming to everyone's chagrin, honestly seemed as confused as anyone else. Harry merely shrugged, and the boys were silent on the topic.

They seemed to think Harry was more evil than Tom ever had been though. Which concerned the help but mostly they were just ecstatic the first time they saw Tom smile at something Harry did. And the way Harry seemed to look up to Tom and was willing to sit on the furniture to make Tom happy. They would be willing to put up with a lot if it kept these wonderful changes.

Tom was as flabbergasted as the help when it came to Harry. He heard the boys whispering about the freak snake-whisperer but had no idea what they had been hearing. Harry had obviously been speaking quite plainly. He attributed it to their shock when they'd found themselves sitting on the ground.

Of course, it was only a few days later when he discovered the truth. Harry came running into their room with an obviously guilty expression and a hand placed over the pocket of his coat. Tom closed his book with a sigh and turned all of his attention on the boy.

"What did you do?"

Harry shook his head and avoided Tom's eyes. His hand tucked away in the torn pocket of his threadbare jacket.

"Harry?"

The little boy chewed on his lip before seeming to fold in on himself. His little hand slowly withdrawing from his pocket as he spoke.

"I… It's just…She said she was cold."

Tom was completely thrown off guard by that. Who said they were cold and why exactly had…

That was when Tom saw the small snake sitting in the palm of Harry's hand, "The snake said she was cold?"

Tom worked hard to keep the skepticism out of his voice and felt proud when Harry grinned at him and nodded.

"Yes! Tell him Saryong."

The older boy felt his brow furrow when Harry spoke the last bit. It was like he had taken on an accent of some kind, but Tom felt no need to comment until the most amazing thing happened.

"I can't, young Master. You is being the first human to understand me. I doubt this one will."

Harry's own brow wrinkled as he thought about that, "Oh. You must be so lonely. Are you sure you can't try?"

Tom blinked at the snaked, "No one else can understand you?"

The snake's head whipped around and Harry let out a giggle of joy. Tom on the other hand felt like his entire world was shifting as he held out his hand and the little snake gladly crept into his warm skin and began a dissertation about what a strange day it had been.

Hey, hey, hey! Sorry I'm so late but it's NaNoWriMo again and that's been killer! But here this is, and remember 10 reviews means an update within 24 hours. I got 9 on the last chapter so finger's crossed. Take care and thanks for reading, Dumbledore will be visiting in the next chapter where he'll get a very special surprise!