This chapter is a bit longer, I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you guys for all the likes, reviews and favorites, it means a lot and helps me with inspiration when writers block is against me.

Warnings : It's un-betaed, Pre-slash and unexplained time travel.

Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.

Chapter 2.

On the second floor of wool's orphanage a cold draft made its way through the poorly sealed windows as winter puffed its last breath of the year resulting in a two-week cold snap that was still going on making the many occupants of the orphanage miserable. On this very floor two such occupants shared a bedroom, the sixth one on the left.

Harry shifted his weight nervously as he waited for Tom to come back from the bathroom that could be located down the hall, he glanced at the brass alarm clock that had a crack in the glass that covered its face. Tom usually took five minutes to finish in the bathroom, never more than six and never less than three. So if Harry was lucky he would have four or five minutes to gather up his courage until Tom came back.

The small five-year old was sitting on his bed in his well-worn pajamas whose pattern had once been clean blue and white stripes but had faded to the grimy looking blue-gray and green-gray stripes that now covered them. Harry lifted his eyes to watch the clock as his small fingers fiddled with the mismatched buttons that held his shirt close.

There were two pink that had once held the back of Suzie Michel's dress closed before she stained it so badly it couldn't be worn anymore; one navy that had fallen off one of the itchy wool coats they had to wear in the winter; two musty looking gray ones that one of the workers had pulled out of the back of a drawer to mend it with ugly green thread that reminded Harry of vomit and one pearly white that had Tom had snipped off his church shirt for Harry last winter and sewn on when his favorite ruby-red button had come off.

The white button was Harry's favorite now, because it was pretty yes but also he now had something of Tom close to him when he slept, and that meant more to him than it being pretty could ever be.

Tom dried his hair with a ragged towel before tossing it aside and dropping the towel around his waist. He quickly pulled on his underwear and pajama bottoms, tying the draw string in a tidy bow, turning to the slightly foggy, grimy mirror to look at his thin, childish body.

If one pushed aside the lack of body weight and the bony angles of his shoulders and hips, or the way that his ribs showed through his skin with every breath he took, he was rather good-looking for a child his age that who had been in an orphanage. He had no bruises or scars, or burns of any kind that many of the other children had from various activities or punishments.

His hair was a rather shiny dark brown and his eyes were deep-set and a mysterious shade of slate gray, though they slight circles under them; it did nothing to take away from their powerful stare. If one asked Tom why he was missing sleep he would say from to many nights of late reading.

Which would be true, he did on some nights, but most recently his nights were spend carefully watching Harry on particularly cold nights to make sure he wasn't freezing to death in his sleep. The younger boy had the habit of trying to hide the fact that he was cold from Tom, though the gray eyed boy always knew because Harry would shiver in his sleep so violently that Tom could see it from across their darkened room.

Sometimes Tom wondered if he should just make Harry sleep with him, that way they could share blankets and body heat and not freeze to death during the night. Though the green-eyed boy was very shy about such things, Tom had no idea why though, Harry was rather strange about many things. Sighing the seven-year old shrugged on his pajama shirt and buttoned it up before proceeding to brush his teeth and continue his nightly ritual for getting ready for bed.

Harry played with the worn cuff of his night-shirt, picking at the frayed threads that were coming loose after too many years of wear and wash. He pulled his knees under his chin and wiggled his toes to keep the feeling in them despite the cold temperature of the room. His shaggy black hair fell into his eyes as he looked towards the frosted window with half lidded eyes.

His head snapped up as he heard footsteps coming from down the hall, Tom was coming back. Harry watched the door with intense focus, something that felt like nervousness knotting inside his stomach as he watched the door open to revile his only friend.

Tom ran his wet fingers through his hair as he stepped inside the room he shared with Harry, his eyes snapping to the small figure that perched on the end of his bed looking rather tense. Closing the door behind him Tom stepped towards Harry as the smaller boy suddenly unfolded himself and slid off the bed, quickly coming to a stop in front of him. They looked at each other in silence for a moment, the room still except for Harry's shivers.

"Tom, will...will you read to me?" Harry blurted suddenly, his green eyes wide and pleading as they stared up into Tom's slate gray orbs.

The older boy blinked and considered it for a moment not that he wouldn't do it if it made Harry happy.

"We don't have any story books." He said as he looked down at Harry whose eyes were starting to dim as their owner started to lose hope. "But I can read to you from the book I got from the library last week." He quickly amended.

Harry's face broke out into a wide grin as he nodded his head so fast and hard Tom worried it might fall off.

"On one condition." Tom said as he walked to the rickety bookshelf that was at the foot of his bed and pulled the book from it.

"Anything!" Harry didn't hesitate to answer.

"You sleep with me tonight." Tom said as he set the book on the end table and pulled the covers back.

The smaller boy froze and blinked. Once, twice, three times before slowly nodding.

"Alright, if you're sure..." He said slowly.

Tom nodded sharply as he got on his bed and patted the spot next to him.

"I'm sure now get up here before you freeze."

Harry quickly ran over and crawled up beside him, Tom, pausing only to grab the book before pulling the covers over them.

Outside the wind howled and the sky grew darker as Tom's voice as he read the bland text of the history book became a lullaby to Harry as his eye lids grew heavy and he drifted into sleeps gentle arms. Tom read for ten more minutes until he was sure Harry had fallen asleep, his breathing deep and even with each breath he took.

Carefully the older boy reached over the top of the sleeping boy beside him and set the book on the end table once more, glancing at the ugly alarm clock on the end table, it was nine o'clock, he had been reading for about an hour he realized before sighing gently and turning off the lamp.

Moonlight and shadows filled the room as Tom settled back down next to Harry, setting his head on the pillow and looking at the sleeping face of the boy next to him, he reached up and gently traced the odd lightning bolt scar that he had on his forehead.

Tom had often wondered where he had gotten it from; the nurses who took care of them when they were younger had just told him that Harry had it when he came to them. It wasn't long before sleep claimed Tom, his eyes slipping shut and his face smoothing out with a kind of peace that only sleep could bring.

For the first time in what would be many times to come, one bed set empty and cold in the sixth bedroom to the left on the second floor of Wool's orphanage. It's normal occupant sleeping soundly in the arms that had slipped protectively around him unconsciously.

So there is the second chapter, it has 1,394 word count of pure story (not including authors notes), so it is longer than the last chapter by quite a bit.

I'm sorry for any grammar errors, if you see any please feel free to point them out and I'll do what I can to correct them.

Thanks for reading, please review.

- Birdy