Chapter 4: Some Place to Stay

Humiliated, and embarrassed, and awkward. That's how I felt standing on his doorstep and 9:00 at night, hoping for a favour. I stood there for ages, far too long to the nosy neighbours watching me from behind their curtains. I could have gone to the Leaky Cauldron, they'd put me up for the night, but I had no way to get there. And it was easy to get here. I felt eyes on me as I waited for my knuckles to touch the door, and thought back on the events that brought me here.

When Marge first arrived, it wasn't too bad. Snide comments and not talking to me, but manageable. Then she started bad mouthing my parents. True, I never knew them, was never given the chance, but they were good people. I made her wine glass explode when my temper got too much to control. With my permission form for Hogsmead being held ransom, I tried to do a better job. But she's too much for anyone, Marge could make a nun swear. So now she was floating around above me, shrill voice calling for help, but from here she could have been a loud hot air balloon.

So I was thrown out and needed a place to stay for tonight before I wrote a letter to Dumbledore. Now I needed Tom's help, but would he help me after how I've ignored him these past 3 weeks. Only one way to know. I just had to pull out my courage and knock on his door. He yelled from the other side of the door, a command to leave, the kind only masochists ignored. I begged him to hear me out before sending me away. Footsteps got louder and the lock moved before I saw him at the door. His trademark shirt was open, and his creamy pale chest was out. I tried not to lick my lips or anything else creepy.

"Harry. What are you doing here at this time of night?" He gaped, "and why have you got a trunk and an owl?"

"I got kicked out, I'm so sorry but I don't know where else to go. I need tonight, then I'll sort something else out for the rest of summer. Please, I've got nowhere else. Please, Tom."

He nodded rapidly as he moved aside for me to drag my trunk and owl into his house. I was about to ask if I needed to ask his parents for permission when he took my trunk from me and started to carry it up the stairs. I followed up with Hedwig. He placed my trunk at the bottom of what I thought was his bed and invited me to set Hedwig's cage on his desk. I felt awkward with his hospitality, as he was just as sweet as before I flipped and started to ignore him. My eyes left the monochrome of the floor for the green bedsheets of his double bed and noticed there was only green in his room. Different shades, but all green. His favourite colour.

"Do you want to talk about why you've been kicked out?" I shook my head. "Okay, how about why you walked out of here the other month so suddenly?"

Heat rose to my face. I blushed and looked away, commenting on how nice his room was to avoid having to answer him. He just nodded, not looking at me, and I could tell he was frustrated. And that bothered me. I didn't want him to be off with me, the thought alone frustrated me. It sat weirdly on my stomach and made me feel a little sick. Like how I'd imagine a dog feels when it shows you those sad eyes after you yell at it. Great, I'd become his dog in the space of a few weeks, after seeing him twice. How sad am I?

"Look, I accidentally inflated my aunt Marge, and my uncle got really pissed. I managed to pack my trunk and grab Hedwig before he stopped trying to avoid her floating off. Then came and yelled at me, so I threatened him and left. I guess I'm not allowed to use magic now since I've probably just been expelled from school. Fuck."

I sat on the floor, my back against a wall, and just hugged my knees. I knelt my head against them and tried not to cry. I tried to curl in on myself, make myself smaller so the fear and panic of the unknown were smaller too. Didn't work so well. How could I be so stupid, I hadn't even thought to the consequences I'd face until now. I sobbed as quietly as was possible, but the movement in my shoulders must have given me away. I felt his hand on my hair and rubbed against it. I really was his dog. He shifted down next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Somehow, being close to him was calming, I felt that connection to him throb stronger. I didn't dare face him, otherwise, I felt like I might kiss him. And that would spoil everything.

"Tell me about your relatives," Tom asked curiously. "I mean they must be pretty special for you to cry over losing them like this."

I couldn't help laughing, fully throwing my head back in laughter. "I'm happy as hell to be free of those pricks. All they do is neglect and abuse me. I do all the housework for them, they don't feed me properly and I can't remember a day when they haven't called me a freak or put me down for being magical. I'm crying cos I'm scared. I've never been alone, and now I need to find somewhere to stay and find a job to get by. I'm becoming an adult at 13."

I looked over at him and stared. There was a hardness to his eyes, a darkness I hadn't seen in him before, that both scared and excited me. He shook his head, and he closed his eyes. When they opened again they were warmer, like normal. It was scary to have a mood shift like that, too unpredictable.

"Sorry, I just know what that's like is all." Tom shifted, for once uncomfortable. "My mother died giving birth to me, and my dad left her when he found out she was pregnant. Most of my life has been around muggles like that, either because they were scared of the things I could do or jealous that they weren't special. It's just these past few months, with Jackie and Malcolm, that I've had a healthy environment. So I get it, I get that elation being away from them."

My lips were parted, and I wondered at him. My heart started to beat strangely fast, and I just stared at his lips. Why did I want him so badly, it couldn't be normal. I was only 13 years old, and this was the third time I'd even spoken to him, but I honestly felt like I never wanted to be without him. What was up with that? It couldn't be normal for me to be acting like a 16-year-old girl, like the ones that threw themselves at Lockhart last year.

"What? Is there something on my chin?"

I looked away, mentally scolding myself for being so obvious. I faked a yawn, asking where I'd be staying tonight. He offered to make a bed on the floor for himself if I was uncomfortable sharing the double with him. I probably shouldn't want that, because we're both guys, I was 13 but also because I realised he wasn't interested the last time we spoke, but I did. I shrugged and headed over to the bed. He warned me that he slept shirtless and I blushed again. I thought for a moment he was doing it on purpose, but I couldn't reason why, so I thought I was misreading it. He was warning me so I wasn't taken by surprise. I shrugged and dug around my trunk for the long T-shirt and sweatpants I normally sleep in. But the sweatpants weren't there. One half of my current security blanket was missing, but I just had to put up with it. I put my T-shirt on before I removed my trousers and folded my things back into my trunk.

"You have lovely legs."

I crawled under the sheets, pretending I didn't hear his whispered words and closed my eyes to feign sleeping. Turns out I didn't need to fake it for long, and I was sleeping restfully moments later. After a while, I felt warmer, pleasantly warmer, and curled towards the heat. It embraced me, and I felt safe. Away from my cold, friendless, lonely existence, this strange new warmth made that crap go away, and it helped me sleep better than I had in so long.

~o0o~

It was unusual for Tom to allow this behaviour. He didn't like people getting close to him, and from what Narcissa Malfoy had told him of his older self that hadn't changed. But there was something about Harry's sadness that called for his comfort, and he hadn't realised he'd answered that call until he felt his ass on the floor and Harry's breath over his chest. Being close to Harry was different somehow, more acceptable. Like it would almost be wrong for him not to be close to the boy. And after figuring out Harry's attraction to his lips, what could Tom do other than tease the boy a little. He just didn't anticipate Harry's nightwear or the pale little legs that looked soft enough to touch. Who could blame him for rushing through a note to the Malfoys so he could climb in beside Harry?

His little frame had clung to Tom, who could only hold him closer. He was warm, and whatever strange magic was binding them was getting stronger with each moment Tom stayed close to him. He made a mental note to look through old tomes to figure out what that was. He didn't like not having control of his magic, he didn't like not having control of his thoughts either. It took a while to get to sleep, dirty thoughts aside, because he was not being used to another person in his bed, whether Harry made him feel calm or not. That thought made him shiver. Harry made him feel... He'd need to keep a lid on that, and not allow himself to get carried off. Again.

~o0o~

My eyes fluttered open, and I was alone, curled around a pillow. My face was buried in it, and the way it smelt was different, musky and sweet. Heavenly. As I woke myself with a stretch, I slumped out of bed and looked in confusion at the unfamiliar room. I needed a second to catch up and remember I was in Tom's bedroom. I found a pen and scrap piece of paper from his desk and scribbled a note to Dumbledore explaining what happened and where I'd gone. I gave Hedwig a chance to stretch before she flew out to deliver it.

I rushed downstairs, reaching the bottom before I realised my legs were bare and his parents might see me. An underage boy wearing just a T-shirt over underwear and coming from their son's bedroom might send the wrong message. But there was a cry of pain from the kitchen, so I moved quickly without thinking. Tom was cradling a burnt hand, bacon burning in a pan on his stove, and he looked ready to murder it. I couldn't help laughing, boarding on crying, as he just looked confused.

"If the pig wasn't already dead, that glare would have done the trick." I grinned, "and that bacon is screwed. If you have any left, I can do it. You should heal your hand, your wand's on your bedside table."

I shifted him away from the stove, to prevent further injuries. He moved willingly and nodded towards the bacon on the side before retreating up the stairs. By the time he was back down, I'd made enough bacon for the both of us and a couple of pancakes for Tom. I just got this feeling he liked them. I served him with a smile and went back to my own pancakes. I hummed while I cooked, nodding and swaying to my own tune. I rarely got moments to enjoy cooking, but cooking for Tom was fun. Pressure-free.

"Dinner and a show," he smirked. "You know, I wanted to make you breakfast because you had a bad night, but you're cooking won't kill us, so I guess this is best."

"I do all the cooking at the Dursleys, so I'm pretty good by this point."

His eyes glimmered mischievously, "You can stay, as long as you like, and all the cupboards are stocked constantly. You can cook and bake anything you want, whatever you want, I just need you to answer the one question I'm dying to ask. Honestly."

"Okay, counter offer, I'll stay here until you leave, then you'll take me with you. And the cupboards will stay stocked forever and ever. Deal?"

"Deal, too easy a deal," Tom grinned. "Why did you run off a month ago?"

I glared. He was pushing a button I'd already warned him off, but it was easy to choose. For whatever reason, whether it be my lack of common sense, or something else wrong with me, I hated being away from him. Platonically or not, I needed to be around him, he just made me feel better than I ever had, and I was basically being offered forever. So why shouldn't I take it? It's what I want and he's willingly offering, it's not my fault if he's not going to like my answer, or me after a few weeks of the clinginess I know is coming.

"Well, I mentioned admiring your ass, and you looked stunned. Then when I thought you were thinking it over, you looked at my scar. I assumed you'd be looking at my scar as my fame and weighing up the benefits I could bring you. It's how others see me. Don't take offence to that, I'm just saying."

Tom nodded. I tried to stop myself from having to further our conversation by taking his empty plate and placing it in the sink. He moved me aside and offered to clean because I'd cooked. I relented, and he filled the sink. It was cute to watch him do it the muggle way. I liked it.

"Maybe I did, but I'm quite sure it wasn't how you're thinking about it." I had to look away from him. "It did stun me when you said that, but I was flattered. I never thought you'd see me that way. I assumed you were straight, as nothing has been in the gossip pages. And while the idea of being with another man is interesting, it's not something I know if I could be into. And because of that, I don't want to lead you on, not when I know there must be many out there who do know what they want and want you." A soapy hand raised my head to meet his eyes. "But don't get me wrong, the interest is there and if you were a bit older I'd want to test it, but I won't take advantage of you. That's never happened to me before, I always take advantage of a weakness when I see it, so don't squander it."

There was a tapping at the window, and Hedwig was back. A reply from Dumbledore in her beak.