I accidentally selected the wrong doc last time but here's the correct one!
Harry slid onto the bench at the Slytherin table, across from Tom. He gave a bright grin towards his friend, despite it being fairly early. He had a perfectly good reason to be in a good mood. Christmas was fastly approaching which meant a much needed break and not having to see Malfoy's face for two weeks. "Morning!"
Tom nodded curtly and gave a small smile of his own. A genuine smile. Not the polite, fake ones he gave to the professors or those he didn't like being within the presence of. Harry, Hermione and sometimes Ron were the only people he willingly smiled at.
Beside Harry on his right, Malfoy looked to be disgruntled at him being there again . He really should have been used to this arrangement, since he'd been doing it since they were first years; and anyway, it wasn't like he was there for him. "Potter, you have your own table to sit at. Go there and leave us alone."
Tom narrowed his eyes at the blonde. He'd never liked him. Unfortunately, they had to share a dormitory together. Harry pitied him. Although, once or twice, strange things had happened to Malfoy, of which Tom had denied being a part of. Harry knew better, of course, but he couldn't say he disapproved. Hermione had, though.
"Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy," Harry nudged him, the cheerful smile never leaving him. It only furthered his irritation, which was a plus. "Why would I do that when I know how much it bothers you?"
Malfoy huffed. "Didn't your parents ever teach you about respecting your betters?" He sneered. That was a relatively common occurrence with him.
"When I find some, I will," Harry shrugged. He then disregarded him entirely and refocused his attention back on Tom, who was hiding a smirk behind his goblet. "Do you have plans for Christmas?"
Tom swallowed the pumpkin juice he was drinking. "Other than staying here? No." Ever since first year, he'd stayed at the castle during the holidays, absolutely refusing to go back to Wools. It was difficult enough as is when he was forced to for the summer. He looked at Harry curiously. It was an odd question to ask for someone who was supposed to have known that. "Why?"
Harry's grin was back at full force. He swiped Tom's piece of buttered toast to which his friend made a grab for it, only for him to be too late. Harry took a bite out of the corner. Tom raised an eyebrow. "I had an idea."
Malfoy snorted but neither of them acknowledged it.
"Does it involve eating your own food?"
"I can't help it if yours tastes better," Harry said and then rolled his eyes when Tom smirked yet again. He was just like Seamus, they were both ridiculously perverted.
"Is it stupid?"
"No."
"Does it involve anything dangerous?"
"No."
"Is it legal?"
Harry gave him a look. That's what he was usually asking Tom. "My ideas are always legal. Yours on the other hand..."
Tom waved it off like it was of no importance, and it probably wasn't to him. "Very well. What is it?"
"Come home with me for Christmas," Harry said. Tom froze. His eyes searched Harry's face for the tiniest bit of trace that this was some practical joke. "I'm serious. It'd be nice to have a friend around and you can meet my parents. They've been wanting to meet you anyway."
He thought the idea sounded great. It would do Tom some good to get out of the castle. He'd never gone to someone's house before; Harry knew that because he'd confided in him during their third year. A blush had come onto his cheeks and he glared at Harry daringly, albeit it was fairly weak. He was too embarrassed to be as angry as he could have been.
Harry hadn't made fun of him like he'd anticipated. Honestly, he felt a bit sorry for him, but he wouldn't say that. Tom didn't like pity and he was more liable to take offense to it. Ever since then, he thought about inviting Tom over but he didn't want it to seem like he was only doing it because they'd had that conversation. Now with it being two years later, it seemed like a good time.
Tom inhaled sharply. His breakfast lay forgotten on the plate. He was gripping the end of the table with such force, his knuckles went a sickly white.
"Tom?" Harry glanced at him unsurely.
"I don't know," Tom said shortly. "Im not- this might not be a good idea."
"Oh, come on," Harry insisted. "You've got to be lonely being around here by yourself."
"I am not by myself," Tom said primly. "Crabbe and Goyle are here as well."
"Crabbe and Goyle are basically pets," Harry said to which Tom snorted. "Come on, just think: it'll be great, we could help my Mum bake cookies and have a snowball fight and fly and-"
"I don't know, Harry," Tom said more firmly this time. "I-" He glanced at Malfoy with distaste. " I've never done this before."
Harry understood that this must be something to be said in private if he was speaking in parseltongue. " Done what?"
"Met someone's parents, " Tom said quietly.
" I know ," Harry's face softened. " It'll be okay. They'll love you."
"You sound so sure of yourself ," Tom remarked.
" Because I know I'm right ."
"You don't know that. I'm...I don't do well with parents. Hence why I've yet to be adopted."
Adoption was a sore subject with Tom. He'd been at the orphanage since he was a few weeks old. There had been interviews with parents when he'd been younger, but they were put off by his sullen nature and slight tendency to lash out. Those interviews gradually lessened as he grew older. He'd bitterly said once that no one wanted the older children, that's why the older ones always stayed there until they were of age to leave. He was so sure it would be the same for him.
Harry had a feeling that was why he did so much in an effort to keep to himself. It would hurt to be around a happy family, knowing that they had each other and he didn't have the same. And while he didn't want the holidays to be some kind of reminder of that, he was still adamant on bringing Tom over. Besides, maybe he didn't have blood relatives, but he did have a family. He had Harry, Ron, Hermione, the twins, Percy, Neville and Hagrid.
Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair. " I won't make you. But I think you should go. It's your call but I promise you, it won't be as bad as you think it will ."
Tom stayed quiet, pushing his eggs around on his plate.
/
The train came to a standstill. They'd arrived at Kings Cross. Harry noticed that Tom had gotten very quiet during the second half of the journey. Hermione and Ron sent him concerned glances but Harry could only sigh a little and shrug. He couldn't tell them that Tom was nervous. To the belief of many, Tom didn't get nervous and for the most part, that was true, Except for now. Harry decided he would spare his friend some dignity so he didn't have Hermione attempting to reassure him that everything would be fine or have Ron try in his own rather awkward way. He loved his friends but they didn't always understand the correct way to talk to Tom. He did, though.
"Well," Hermione rose to her feet, smiling at them. They'd all exchanged gifts already, promising one another they wouldn't open them until Christmas. Harry was sure Ron had only promised for her ease of mind and would likely not uphold it. "Goodbye and Merry Christmas." She gave them each a hug, leaving Tom for last. He was stiffened at first but then reciprocated.
It made Harry proud to see how far he'd come since first year. He'd been wary of any kind of physical contact, gradually lessening ever since. He still preferred not to be touched majority of the time, but he wouldn't flinch or throw his arms up for defense if he was.
"Merry Christmas," they said to her and the next second she was gone.
Ron was next. He gave Harry a one arm hug and lightly punched Tom's shoulder. "Do me a favor, would you?" He said to them.
"What's that?" Tom said.
"Wrap up some of your Mum's cookies and send them with Errol?" Ron asked with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. " Please ? They're the best."
"I thought your Mum's was the best?" Harry smirked. They'd all tasted Mrs. Weasley cooking and it was superb.
"No way . Your Mum's are," Ron said.
"I'm so telling your Mum you said that," Harry chuckled and ducked when Ron made a poor attempt at swinging at him. "Sure thing, mate."
"Thanks, you're the best!" Ron beamed. He grabbed his carry on. "Better go. Mum will have a fit if she has to wait long. See you both!"
He walked away, disappearing from their line of sight.
It left just Harry and Tom in the compartment.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
Tom shrugged. He didn't shrug. Said it was juvenile. It must be serious, Harry realized.
"It's okay," Harry said, trying to be comforting. "You don't need to worry-"
"I'm not worried," Tom said shortly.
"-they're excited to see you," he finished. He was going to start making his way out to the platform but noticed Tom still wasn't moving. "Tom, you coming?"
"What did you tell them about me?" Tom said, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.
"What?"
"What did you tell them about me?" Tom repeated. "I want to know."
Harry almost groaned. "Why?"
"Just tell me-"
"Okay, okay." if he didn't, they'd still be on the train and risk getting sent back to Hogwarts if they didn't make it out there on time. "It wasn't much. That you're in my year, you're a Slytherin, we have a few classes together, that you're staying at Wools-"
"What?" Tom didn't look happy to hear that. "Why would you tell them that?"
Harry was exasperated. "My Mum asked about your parents. I had to say something. Don't worry, I didn't go into detail. Just that you're at the orphanage."
Tom mulled it over, eventually nodding in approval. Harry rolled his eyes. "Can we go now? Mum's waiting. If she complains, I'm blaming you."
"Of course," Tom said smoothly. Harry saw right through it, but decided not to remark on it. His friend would become tense and defensive.
They stepped off the train. Now that they'd taken their time, some of the crowd had dissipated a bit. Harry saw his Mum waiting by one of the walls and grinned at her. She was smiling as she approached them. Beside him, Tom stiffened again. Harry subtly touched his arm as a way to convey that everything was going to be okay.
He just hoped to Merlin his dad didn't have any pranks set about. Tom did not need the added stress.
"There you two are," Lily pulled Harry into a hug and kissed him on the cheek. "Oh, I missed my little boy."
" Mum ," Harry grimaced. "Come on. Not here."
"I'm sorry," Her tone suggested she felt otherwise. "I just missed you so much, sweetie. I got so sad the other night just thinking about how fast you're growing up so I opened up your baby album and-"
"Okay," Harry's voice went up an octave. He gestured toward Tom, whose face he didn't even want to look at, knowing the tosser was probably trying to muffle his laughter. At least, that's how he would have been normally. As of right now? Who knows. "Mum, this is my friend, Tom Riddle."
Lily let go of her son, eyes crinkling around the corners as her eyes rove over him. Harry had written to his Mum and told her not under any circumstances to hug Tom. He would have been extremely unformattable and Harry wanted the start of the holiday to be good. "It's nice to meet you, Tom," she said kindly. "I'm Lily."
"Hello," Tom said quietly, attempting to put on that oh so charming smile that drove the girls crazy. It didn't come off well but no one said anything about that . "It's nice to meet you as well, ma'am."
"What manners," Lily said with an exaggerated sigh. "Do you think you could teach my son some?"
"Oi!" Harry said loudly.
This got Tom to crack a bit of a grin. A real one. He was still acting cautiously, but this had broken some of the ice. "I've tried but I'm afraid he simply refuses to learn."
"That's my son, alright," Lily chuckled. "In which case, you must be a saint for putting up with him. Such a noble feat."
Harry grumbled at the injustice of it all. Although, he was secretly happy they were getting along. Even if it was at his expense.
"It has been rather difficult," Tom agreed.
Harry shoved him. "Git."
"Harry," Lily scolded without any real heat to her words. "Be nice. You know better than to push people."
Harry gaped at her. "But he was-"
"Come on, boys," Lily said as she turned around. "I've got the car waiting."
As they watched her walk away, Tom chuckled. "Yes, Harry. You do know better, don't you?"
Harry muttered something vulgar under his breath.
/
Harry sat with Tom in the backseat, glancing at his friend out of slight concern. Tom was looking severely cramped, as though he were trying not to let any part of him touch the car. What was up with him?
"Are you boys hungry?" Lily asked, briefly looking back at them through the rear view mirror as she pulled out onto the street.
"Err," Harry looked over at Tom, who was looking back at him. Emotionlessly. He knew that face. The face that Tom wore when he was unsure of how to act in a situation. "Sure. yeah."
"We can stop at Eddie's on the way back."
"Okay," Harry agreed. He noticed Tom looked confused so he elaborated. "Eddie's is a bakery in town. We've been going there since I was one."
"Oh," Tom leaned back against the seat.
"Is that okay with you, Tom?" Lily asked him.
Tom seemed startled for a moment that he was being directly addressed. "Oh, yes, Mrs. Potter. That's fine."
"Lily, Tom," she reminded him with a slight laugh. "Mrs. Potter is my mother-in-law."
"Okay," Tom obviously didn't know how to feel about the informal greeting.
/
"I hope Eddie has more chocolate bombs," Harry said as he got out of the car.
Lily laughed. "Are you still sore about him being out last time?"
Harry nodded. "I was looking forward to it all week."
Lily brushed a few pieces of hair out of her face. "Your father's sent me a list of what he wants," her lips pursed. "He's going to get fat, eating all this junk food. I'm only getting half of it. They'll unfortunately be out of the rest." She winked.
"Poor dad," Harry snickered. He looked back at Tom, who was rummaging through his trouser pockets. "You coming?"
"In a moment," Tom muttered.
"You're so slow," Harry faux complained.
"And yet as I recall, I wasn't the one late to History of Magic."
Harry grimaced when Lily gave him a sharp look.
"Mum-"
"Harry James Potter! Why were you late? You know better than to be tardy. Are you messing around? Do I need to come up there to make sure you get to class on time?"
Harry's eyes widened comically. "No, no," he said quickly. Tom looked faintly amused. "I won't be late again, I promise!"
She may have been slightly joking about that, but than again, his Mum would do it.
"You better not," she wagged a finger at him.
They walked through the front door. The bell that hung above chimed softly. Immediately, they were overtaken by the aroma of apples. No one else was in the shop. In the corner, there was a jukebox playing a soft holiday tune.
"You okay?" Harry murmured when he was huddled against Tom's side. Tom was a bit taller than him so he had to look up at him. Meanwhile, Lily was looking down at the list on the parchment she had with her, not paying attention to them.
"I don't have any money," Tom hated to admit it. His pride was wounded by saying it.
Harry blinked. "It's okay, we'll-"
"I'll just stand right here," Tom muttered.
"What do you boys want?" Lily asked them when she looked up.
"I don't think I'll be getting anything," Tom said.
Lily frowned. "Are you sure?"
"He doesn't have money, Mum," Harry said and Tom scowled.
"Tom, honey." Tom looked momentarily stunned by the term of endearment. Quickly enough, his face went back into his mask of indifference. "I didn't expect you to pay for it. You're our guest. Harry on the other hand..."
"Oi," Harry said again. "I'm your son. Doesn't that count for anything?"
There was some rustling behind the counter. An older, middle-aged man came out from the back room to the front. He had some flour stains on the front of him which was covered by an apron. His salt and pepper hair was short and his eyes were warm.
"There he is!" The man exclaimed. Harry grinned sheepishly. "There's little Harry."
"I'm not little, Mr. Adday," Harry said with a fond eye roll.
"You're what, five-five?" Mr. Adday said, rubbing his chin and then shrugging. "You're little." He noticed Tom standing there off to the side. "Ahh, and who is this?"
"This is Tom," Harry introduced. "He goes to my school. He's staying with us for Christmas. Tom, this is Mr. Eddie Adday. He owns the place."
Mr. Adday leaned over the counter to shake Tom's hand. "Ah, pleasure to meet you."
"You as well," Tom said stiffly.
He turned back to Harry and Lily. "Aye, I see James has a list for me."
Lily sighed as she handed it to him. "Yes. I'm taking only what I've circled. He doesn't need all that added sugar. I'm sure he gets enough when he's out."
Mr. Adday nodded. He put together a small box and began to gather up the items. "How's school going, Harry? Good, I hope."
"Oh, yeah. It's good, Sir," Harry said.
"Good, good. And how about you, Tom?"
Tom's eyes had been wandering around the shop when they suddenly darted back at Mr. Adday, staring at him blankly.
"How's school been?" Mr. Adday tried again.
"Oh. It's been well. Very well."
"Good to hear," Mr. Adday's eyes sparkled like Dumbledore's did. "Now I already know young Harry here wants some chocolate bombs-yes, I do have plenty in stock. But would you care for Tom? Anything catch your fancy?"
Living in the orphanage meant that Tom didn't get many chances to have choices. They were usually being made for him. Food was one of those things; other than at Hogwarts where he could decide for himself what he wanted, the meals were planned ahead and he got what was served. Harry had seen the food first hand during a visit once; it was not appetizing at all.
Now that he had all those sweets in front of him, Tom was rather indecisive.
"It's hard to decide," he admitted. "The cinnamon rolls and the apple knots both look appetizing."
Lily said to Mr. Adday, "We'll have two of each, please."
Tom stared at her. He blinked a couple times as Mr. Adday was placing them in the box. "You didn't need to do that," he said awkwardly. Harry couldn't believe he was seeing Tom of all people behaving that way. It was really unlike him.
"Nonsense," Lily said cheerfully, waving his words off. "It's almost Christmas. We can all have a splurge or two."
Tom went quiet. It had taken Harry and his friends a while to get him acclimated to genuine kindness. He hadn't truly believed someone would do something out of the goodness of their heart without wanting anything in return. "Thank you, Mrs- Lily ."
"You're very welcome, Tom," Lily said warmly.
/
His home in Godric's Hollow was crisp and warm. It felt tremendously better than the frigid air outside. Harry sighed in relief, setting his trunk to the side. It was nice to be home. Being away at Hogwarts was great but he got a little homesick on occasions from being away for the majority of the year.
"Is Dad home?" He asked Lily.
"No. He's at the office," Lily said. "He wanted to be here but he couldn't get away. He'll be back for dinner, though." She turned to Tom who had come in after her, standing in the doorway with a hand on his trunk. "Tom, you'll be staying in Harry's room. He'll take your trunk up there for you."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Mum-"
"Honey, he's a guest."
"He's not a guest. He's-" He made a motion with his hand, "Tom."
"Now that we're all acquainted," Tom muttered.
Lily chuckled. "Just do it, please."
"Okay," Harry stepped aside as his mum swept passed, taking the box of sweets into the kitchen. "Come on, let's go then." he started to pull at the trunk, only to realize how bloody heavy it was. Strange, Tom didn't have many things. "What on Merlin's green earth is in here?"
"Books," Tom said casually. "Along with my clothes and school things of course."
"Books," Harry repeated. "You brought books with you?"
"I wanted to keep myself entertained," Tom defended. "Do you realize how easy it is to waste one's mind during these breaks? I want to be productive."
Harry closed his eyes. "You're another Hermione." he shook his head and started to go up the stairs. Tom followed him from behind.
"You'd do well to join me."
"Sure. I have plenty of quidditch magazines."
Tom wrinkled his nose. "That is not what I meant."
Ahh, Tom and his irrational aversion to quidditch. Harry would never understand it.
His bedroom was decently sized, not too big or small. He had a great deal of quidditch posters covering the walls and a generous stack of magazines in the corner. Some clothes laid around haphazardly, the bed was unmade but otherwise it was okay. Harry put Tom's trunk aside for the time being, using his foot to push the clothes by the door of his wardrobe to get them out of the way.
"Right, so this is it."
"I see," Tom said lightly. His voice was devoid of any jealousy but Harry knew a touch was there on his face. Tom's room at the orphanage was practically bare. He hadn't wanted Harry to see it and the only reason that he did was because he'd come for an unannounced visit. Inside there was a single bed, a wardrobe and a nightstand. They weren't allowed to decorate their rooms as they pleased because of people shifting in and out from being adopted or brought in.
"It's very...homey in here."
Harry shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. "Right. Well, er, you'll take the bed and I'll sleep on the floor."
"Why?" Tom asked suspiciously.
"Why not?"
"It's your room. Shouldn't you be sleeping on the bed?"
"My Mum would kill me if you slept on the floor," Harry huffed out a laugh. "Besides, I don't mind."
Tom eyed the bed. It wasn't like his own. The bed at Wool's was lumpy and uncomfortable. Harry hoped for at least two weeks, Tom could get a good's night's rest just like when he was at Hogwarts. "If you're sure," he said at last.
"I am," Harry nodded. He smiled. "Dad can't wait to meet you. He was going to tell Sirius and Remus and their wives to come over but Mum thought it might be a bit much for you. They, well... Sirius can be a bit much. Especially if he drinks a lot of firewhiskey."
He rolled his eyes.
Had he been acting normal, Tom would have made some snarky remark but he didn't. It concerned Harry. "Are you alright? You're acting a bit odd."
"I'm fine," Tom muttered. "Perfectly fine."
Harry sighed. "You don't have to pretend, Tom. Not with me. You know you don't. What's wrong?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Tom said shortly.
"But-" Harry protested.
"Not now," Tom shook his head.
"You can't keep doing this-"
"Drop it, Harry," Tom's eyes pleaded with him and Tom didn't typically plead with anyone . Not even him. "Please."
The words died on his tongue. Harry nodded mutely. Tom breathed out.
"Thank you."
/
Harry and Tom sat at the island in the kitchen, eating their respective sweets. Tom chose to dig into his apple knot first and save the other, plus the cinnamon rolls for another time. Lily was looking around for a container to put the remainder of the pastries in.
"Do you boys want some milk or pumpkin juice?"
"Yeah!" Harry said. "Pumpkin, please."
"I'll have the same," Tom said.
"Alright," Lily poured some into two glasses and placed them in front of them. "There you are."
"Thanks, Mum."
"Thank you, Mrs- Lily ."
She didn't comment on it being the second time he'd done that.
Harry took a sip of the icy cold drink. "She never does this for me," he grinned at Tom. "She tells me to get off my lazy bum and get my own drink."
Lily rolled her eyes fondly.
"M'starting to think my own Mum likes you more than me."
"Perhaps I do," Lily agreed. "Tom's such a lovely young man. I'm sure he wouldn't be any trouble at all. I would imagine he could keep his temper reined in and not blow up any of our neighbors," she said nonchalantly.
"What?" Tom was bewildered and looked to Harry for an explanation. "You blew up your neighbors?"
Harry groaned. "It's not what you're thinking. She's not dead. She just...took a little trip until she was rescued."
Tom snorted.
"It wasn't my fault," Harry quickly said. "She was really mean and it was accidental magic. Not like I did it on purpose."
Lily was shaking her head at the memory. "Imagine my surprise, looking out the window and seeing her floating. Your dad was no help, of course."
"He thought it was funny," Harry said to Tom.
"That poor woman. She about had early heart failure."
"So did the muggles that saw her," Harry snickered then sobered at the look his mum gave him.
"You are just like your father," Lily said with thinly veiled amusement.
"That's what everyone tells me," Harry said. "Except for your eyes."
"Yes, well," Lily sighed as if it were a thing to be sad about, "it's unfortunate you didn't inherit more of my personality."
Harry smiled innocently.
The fireplace roared to life. Tom jumped. He wasn't used to hearing a floo, not from where he was from. Come to think of it, he didn't think Tom had ever used one before. Probably not. He'd heard that when he was taken to Diagon Alley for the first time to purchase his school supplies, Dumbledore had taken him and they walked from Wool's to there.
"It's just Dad," Harry told him. Tom visibly relaxed but not without being embarrassed. He coughed to clear his throat. For his sake, Harry pretended he hadn't seen him jump. It probably didn't help, though.
There was a crash and shattering of glass that came from the other room.
Lily sighed. "That's the sixth time he'd done that this month."
Harry explained, "Dad keeps landing on the coffee table and breaking Mum's favorite vase."
"How does he manage to do that?" Tom raised his eyebrows.
Harry snorted, shrugging.
"There's my favorite family," James shouted cheerfully. He ruffled Harry's hair from behind and pulled Lily into a kiss. Then he whirled back around to face Tom, who most definitely saw the resemblance between him and Harry. "Ahh and you must be Tom, right?"
"Yes, Sir," Tom said politely.
"That's Sir Potter to you," James sniffed haughtily, adjusting the collar of his robes.
"He's only joking," Lily told him, rolling her eyes. "Just James is perfectly fine."
"My wife never lets me have any fun," James said to Tom with faux sadness.
He was smacked on the shoulder for that remark.
"So," James clasped his hands together, "you're the Riddle boy I've heard all about from Harry. And you're in Slytherin, correct?"
"Yes," Tom nodded cautiously. Probably out of knowing the reputation that his house had.
Harry dearly hoped his Dad wasn't going to spout off any nonsense about Slytherin being the home of dark wizards, how no witch or wizard sorted there never came out right, yada yada. It took ages for him to get Ron to trust Tom and not think he was going to turn on them at any moment.
James suddenly took notice of his wife's warning glare and held his hands up in surrender. "I was just asking, calm down! Can I not ask?"
"No," Lily said bluntly.
Whilst they bickered amongst themselves-Lily pointedly reminding him of how he'd behaved toward the Slytherins during their own Hogwarts years with James doing his best to defend himself-Harry couldn't help but see the way Tom visibly deflated. He'd taken the question as a personal attack. He was used to doing that, feeling defensive over his house with the way others perceived it.
With how they assumed who he truly was and who he would become.
"You okay?" Harry whispered.
"I shouldn't have come," Tom whispered back delicately.
"What?" Harry was shaking his head. Simultaneously wondering how his parents were missing this conversation. Than again, they could be so engrossed within their bickerments and not see much of anything else. "No. You're wrong. Is this about my dad wondering about you being in Slytherin? He didn't mean any harm."
Tom didn't respond.
"Now that's enough," Lily said loudly, pointing a finger at her husband. She was smiling, though. Turning to face Harry and Tom, she said, "Now what would you boys like for dinner? Tom, since you're our guest, you can choose."
Tom blinked yet again. Which was code for him being startled in Tom expression.
(Harry didn't know whether he was enjoying the fact that this whole thing was making Tom show more than his usual stoic side or not).
"I don't know," Tom said awkwardly. "I...I don't have any preferences."
Harry decided to help him out. "Can we get pizza?"
"Is that alright with you?" Lily asked Tom.
"Yes," Tom said carefully. "That's fine."
Harry whooped. "Brilliant!"
/
Harry made him bend down a little and proceeded to jam Tom's green fleece with two strings hat down on his head. It made his friend let out an oof . "Come on!" he said cheerfully, deliberately ignoring the half hearted glare sent his way. "Let's go before the snow melts!"
"I fail to see why we cannot simply stay inside," Tom grumbled like the grouch he was. "It would be much warmer."
His parents were watching a Christmas themed movie in the living room (Harry could hear his dad making loud observations and his mum trying to get him to be quiet so she could pay attention to it). The sun had dipped below the horizon, with the moon rising to the top of the sky in its place. It was dark out now, except for the porch light his mum had installed. It was still snowing, too. The flakes were steadily falling like they hadn't been all day since yesterday evening. Harry was eager to get out there and felt it was the perfect time.
Harry sighed dramatically. "Haven't you ever played out in the snow before?"
He was given a flat stare. "We're fifteen, are we not?"
"The question, Tomothy."
Tom grimaced, making Harry grin. "My given name is Thomas if you so wish to speak to me like Mrs. Cole does."
"Nah. I like Tomothy better."
"It's ridiculous."
"It's clever."
Tom rolled his eyes.
"Or I can call you TJ."
"Not on your life, Potter."
"And suddenly it's growing on me..."
"I will silence you."
But Harry was not to be deterred easily. "You do need a nickname."
"My name is three letters. For what reason do I have to shorten it further?"
"Because I said so."
"Well now that you put it that way, how can I refuse?" Tom snarked.
"It would be difficult, I'd imagine."
"You're an imbecile."
"A brilliant imbecile."
"That's an oxymoron."
"I know you are but what am I?"
Tom's hand was inches away from where his wand was being kept.
"You're trying to change the subject," Harry accused good-naturedly. "Nice try Mr. Snakey McSnakerson."
Tom was unimpressed.
"I've given it some thought-"
"Which is more than your two specks that you call brain cells can withstand."
"We're either going with TJ-"
"I've already told you no."
"Tomzy."
"Absolutely not."
"Tom-Cat."
"I will kill you."
"Tommy- ow! "
Tom swiftly sent a stinging jinx at him, smiling innocently which Harry did not fall for.
"Oops."
"Bastard."
"My parents were married, thank you," Tom said mildly.
"Enough stalling," Harry said stubbornly, yanking Tom by the hand, effectively forcing him outside in the cold. The front door was shut and Tom was on the porch, arms crossed. Harry didn't know if that was because he was cold or annoyed. Or both. Probably both.
"Don't be such a spoilsport," Harry tried to coax him out further. He walked backwards, gesturing with his hands for Tom to follow him. "Come on. It'll be fun. I promise you won't freeze out here- ah !"
He slipped.
Right on his back.
His body slammed against the ground.
Harry was seeing stars. Pain was radiating through his body. He groaned. Tom came into his vision, peering down at him. "Help me up," He mumbled through his disorientation.
Tom hummed. "I see now why you didn't make it into Ravenclaw."
"Shut up."
"What kind of idiot walks backwards when there's ice on the ground?"
"Shut up, Riddle. We can't all be geniuses like you."
"No, but you should at least be attempting to strive for perfection."
"Screw you."
"I wasn't aware you swung that way but whatever pleases your fancy."
"I hate you."
"Many do. It's a consequence I'm willing to endure."
"How generous of you."
"I'm glad to see all my hard work is getting recognized."
"And you wonder why everyone thinks you're a narcissist," Harry snorted as he was pulled up to his feet once again. He motioned towards him. "This. This is why."
"Is it?" Tom was unconcerned. "Ah, well. No matter."
Harry rubbed at his aching back. He was definitely going to be bruised by tomorrow morning. "I'm glad you're finally yourself again. What was wrong with you earlier?"
It was like a switch. Harry mentally berated himself. Tom stiffened up, trying to act like everything was fine and dandy. It was like when they'd first met all over again. Tom hadn't been used to being near people that wanted to be around him. The other kids at the orphanage thought it was a strange freak. Even though it was years later, Tom still thought he was going to be dropped at any moment. Traded for someone better , supposedly.
"Don't do that," Harry frowned. "Don't try to tell me nothing's wrong. I know you, Tom. I know when something's bothering you. You're rubbish at hiding your feelings."
Harry wasn't particularly good with getting into touchy feely territory. Hermione was a prime example. The few moments when she'd cried left him frozen and clueless as to what to do. He hoped Tom wouldn't cry. He didn't think he would. Tom was reluctant to even thread on the topic of him ... feeling things. If he actually cried, Harry would be very, very concerned.
"Not here," Tom's voice was nearly inaudible. Harry remembered that he had promised him not to probe any further.
"I'm sorry," Harry sighed. His breath was visible from the cold. "I know I said I'd drop it, it's just... I don't want you to keep thinking about whatever's upsetting you."
"I know," Tom acknowledged. "I...I appreciate it." He had difficulty saying those words but Harry knew they were sincere. "I will explain it to you later this evening."
"Oh, you don't have to just because-"
"No, no. I want to."
"Oh," Harry blinked. "Okay. Alright. Great."
Tom breathed out his nose.
Harry snapped out of the semi awkward tension that came over them. They'd come out there for a purpose. "Right so. Let's begin your snow-ducation."
"My what ?"
"Snow education. Since you've never played out in it before, I'm going to give you an introductory course."
"I never said I didn't."
"Well, have you?" Harry raised his brows.
"No. But you needn't assume," Tom huffed.
"Like I said," Harry rolled his eyes. "First we'll start with a favorite: snow angels."
"If you think I'm rolling around on the ground, you're off your rocker," Tom declared.
"I'll push you," Harry threatened with mirth in his eyes.
"As if you could knock me down," Tom scoffed. "I have a better chance of causing you harm."
Harry scowled. "Do not."
Tom continued with a smirk. "You're what, five-five? It wouldn't be very hard." Harry shoved him and to his annoyance, Tom didn't move at all. For added effect, he pretended to be inspecting his nails, a smirk coming onto his face.
"Git."
"I know you are but what am I?"
Harry stared at him for all of five seconds, bursting into loud laughter. Tom joined him, a carefree look to him now.
"I can't believe you said that!"
"Clearly being around Gryffindors has messed with me," Tom said teasingly.
"Beats being around snakes like Malfoy," Harry snorted.
"Being around a slug is better than being around Malfoy," Tom rolled his eyes.
"I should put a stink bomb in his dorm when we get back."
"You do remember I sleep there as well?"
"What's your point?"
Tom shook his head, a small, semi amused smile gracing his face. "Remember I can retaliate, Potter."
"Of course you can," Harry said in a condescending tone. "Harry is so scared of the Big Bad Riddle."
"Harry should be," Tom agreed.
Harry made a noise of disagreement. The snowflakes were falling a little harder now; the blasts of wind were seeping through his hoodie. "You're stalling again."
"I'm doing no such thing."
"Yeah you are. You're trying to distract me!"
"It's my fault that you've chosen to prattle about ridiculous things?"
" Yes !" Harry paused, realizing what he agreed to when Tom laughed. "It wasn't ridiculous!"
"And yet you agreed."
"Prat! I wasn't thinking."
"I'm shocked," Tom said in a-most-definitely-not-shocked-tone.
Harry ignored him in favor of dropping back on the snow covered ground. Tom didn't move, looking down at him with an arched eyebrow. He just grinned; flopping his arms and legs around. "Come on, TJ-" Tom's lips pursed at the nickname. "Do it with me!"
"No."
"Is little Tommy scared of getting all snowy?" Harry teased.
"I'm not scared," Tom scowled.
"Then do it."
"No."
"Yes."
" No ."
"Yes ."
"Do you intend to argue the entire time?" Tom demanded.
"If you keep standing there like Malfoy does in Hagrid's class, then yes."
"Do not compare me to that spoiled little cretin."
"I don't know," Harry said slyly, "I see a bit of resemblance between you two." At this, Tom narrowed his eyes. "Malfoy's terribly prissy about his hair. You're terribly prissy about your hair, not to mention-"
Harry trailed off when a handful of snow was smashed into his face. He spluttered, wiping it off his glasses. In his vision was Tom standing over him, arms crossed and looking quite smug.
"I told you not to compare me to him."
"When have I ever listened?" Harry got up, shaking the snow off his back. He yelped, ducking when Tom hurled more snow at him. Albeit, it wasn't formed. It was like a mist of some sorts. He'd clearly only halfway patted it down and it soon broke apart once it hit the air. "That was a terrible snowball," he informed him.
"I wasn't trying to make one."
" Obviously ."
"Do you think you're amusing?"
"I know I am," Harry was pleased when his reply made Tom roll his eyes. "I suppose since you aren't all that interested in making a snow angel, we'll move on to part two."
"Wonderful," Tom deadpanned.
Harry continued, "Snowballs!"
Tom sighed.
"It's really easy," Harry demonstrated. "You just pick up the snow like this, pat it down real good until it's the way you want it and voila!"
He threw his arm back and whirled it at the house. He turned to Tom, nodding encouragingly. "It's your turn."
"This is completely unnecessary."
"Yeah, yeah," Harry waved it off. "Whatever you say. Now you try it."
"No."
" Tom ," Harry whined. "Don't be difficult."
"Must you whine? It is rather unbecoming."
" Tomothy Marvelo Riddle !"
"I can't take you seriously if you're going to use that blasted name."
Harry gave him a look.
"Oh for the love of- fine !" Tom snapped, bending down to aggressively take some snow into his hands. "Is this satisfactory to you?"
Harry eyed it. "Could be a bit-" He paused when Tom's eye twitched. "Oh, yeah, looks good." He swore he heard Tom mutter something like better be . "Now you've just got to throw it."
"If it will get you to shut up," Tom did it, narrowly missing Harry's face.
"Rude," Harry complained. He was only joking though. "No face hitting."
Tom deliberately ignored him. He missed again, causing Harry to laugh at him.
"Huh, I've found the one thing the Great Tom Riddle can't do."
"Give me a moment," Tom refused to admit defeat. "This doesn't count."
"Sure," Harry gave a half smirk. "Whatever you say, Tommy."
Spat !
He got him this time. Harry calmly wiped away snow from his face for the second time. "You're dead, Riddle."
"And yet I'm still walking around," Tom pretended to ponder his words.
It started an all out war. Harry repeatedly threw snowballs, as many as he could. He expertly ducked and maneuvered out of the way, making remarks at Tom's expense just to rile him up. After a few minutes, it was clear the Slytherin was enjoying himself. Harry was pleased. A few genuine laughs bubbled out of Tom's throat. It was just what he needed. He was usually so stiff and uptight, those moments where he let himself go and be happy weren't as often as they should have been. But he was progressing. He was much better than during their first year where he rarely smiled or laughed at all. That was all that mattered.
"You're going to lose, Potter," Tom announced.
"I don't know, Tommy boy, do you really think you're going to win against the youngest seeker in a century?" Harry retorted.
"Yes," Tom said plainly.
"Try it, then," Harry challenged.
They spent at least two hours out there. The cold didn't bother them nor did it when their clothes got fairly damp. They kept teasing each other, challenging each other, being loud and yelling for no reason. The rest of the world seemed to fade away. No longer did one's house matter or any of their differences or anything . Tom's troubled past was pushed aside and for once, Harry had done the impossible: he made Tom Riddle act like a carefree, normal teenager.
/
The room was dark except for the moonlight which crept in through a slightly open window on the right side of the room. It created a white shadow that dimly lit up the bedroom. Harry was on the floor. Underneath his back for support were blankets; his parents had offered to conjure up another bed so he wouldn't have to but Harry said it was fine. It just felt right. If Tom was at the orphanage, he wouldn't get the option of sleeping in a comfortable, soft bed. He'd been there since he was an infant so Harry could handle two weeks of this.
He laid there with his arms back behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. It was a bit blurry without his glasses. He'd taken them off should he fall asleep, he didn't want to risk breaking them again. He'd done that before.
"Harry?"
When he heard Tom's voice, his hand reached for them and placed them back up, noticing the Slytherin's head leaning over the side of the bed, looking at him. It was slightly difficult to decipher Tom's facial expression, but from what he could see, he understood his friend must be about to have that conversation with him.
"Yeah?" Harry whispered. He tugged on the sleeves of his jumper as a gust of wind blew in from the outside.
Tom didn't respond right away. For once, the typically articulate Slytherin was struggling with his words. "I really do appreciate you bringing me here."
"Of course," Harry said with a smile. "You're always welcome. Mum and Dad love you."
At the last part, he heard Tom exhale sharply.
Should he not have said that?
"Did I say-"
"You're really lucky, you know," Tom said in a quiet voice, "to have your parents. Both of them."
"Yeah," Harry repeated, wondering where he was going with this.
Tom couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. Maybe it was intentional. "It must be nice, knowing you're wanted and loved and you don't have to wonder what could possibly be wrong with you that made them give you away."
Tom was breathing harder now, gripping the sheets.
Harry slowly sat up, tucking his feet underneath of him. "Tom-?" He said unsurely.
Tom was off the bed, pacing back and forth. His footsteps were light. Harry was still on the floor, watching him. He suddenly halted in the middle of the room. "You have no idea what it was like; being there day in and day out, watching everyone else get adopted but no one wants me. No one wants freaky little Tom Riddle that makes strange things happen."
Harry tried to say something, to fiercely remind him that he was not a freak but the words died on his tongue as soon as the moonlight hit Tom's face, illuminating a rare show of vulnerability.
"I hated people. All of them. I hated you-" Harry wasn't surprised to hear that. "You had everything I ever wanted. A safe home, unlimited meals without having to share or ration out, a warm bloody bed !" He flung a hand in the direction of said bed. "And parents-" He briefly became choked up but managed to recover. "You have parents who care about you, who love you, who would do anything for you. I wanted that. I wanted to have my parents pick me up at the train station, to have my mother crying as she hugs me, to have my father say something ridiculous in front of my friends."
He plopped down on the edge of the bed, shutting his eyes.
"No one's ever wanted me. Not my parents. Not any of the other parents that come by the orphanage. Not Mrs. Cole. I'm certain she despises me as well. It didn't even get any better at Hogwarts. The one place I thought I could start over where I wouldn't be thought of as the freaky Riddle boy. No, I was still freaky. I was a slimy snake or the next dark lord according to some," Tom snarled.
Harry lowered his eyes. Thankfully, his parents had instilled it in him that not all Slytherins were bad people. He was never one of those that openly mocked Tom or laughed along when others did. Although he did recall how Ron and even Hermione to a tad had been apprehensive of being around Tom because of the rumors they believed. Ron had the worst; he was certain Tom was like Malfoy.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. It might as well have been a shout within the deafening silence.
Tom didn't even acknowledge it. He kept on going. "I didn't want to come here. I dreaded it for days. I didn't want to be reminded of what I didn't have."
Harry felt awful but he didn't have a clue on how to make it remotely better.
Tom's exhale was audible. "It's everything I imagined it would be. It's everything I've wanted." His head dropped in his hands. Harry didn't know what to say to that. "I could see myself here. Eating meals at the table, sleeping in this room, reading outside in the backyard. It hurts, Harry, to see all this and know I'll never have it."
Harry slowly, cautiously, sat down beside him on the bed. "You...you don't know that," he said softly. "Someone may come eventually and-"
"It's been fifteen years," Tom muttered with contempt. "No one's coming for me now."
"You really don't think so?"
"Do you know how rare it is for the older children to get adopted?" Tom said sharply. "No one wants us. They think the worst of people like me, that I'm secretly some murderer going to attack them in their sleep."
Harry could tell this was something that plagued his thoughts often.
"We both know that's not true," Harry said firmly.
"Too bad everyone else doesn't know that," Tom said with a rueful smile.