Chapter 6: Tom, the knight in shining armour
"What do you mean I can't stay here?" Harry whined as he stood in Dumbledore's office, the old man sitting at his desk calmly across from him. "I don't want to go back to the Dursley's for summer break!"
"The Dursley's did not return the permission slip. Therefore, you are not allowed to remain here. You must return home, Harry." Dumbledore's voice was calm as he spoke, which was more annoying to Harry. How could this man be so calm? Didn't he know that he was, like, totally ruining his life?
After a few more attempts and getting the same "no, Harry," repeated back to him several times, the boy gave up and retreated back to his room to start packing.
"So?" asked Tom expectantly when Harry entered the room. "Are you staying here over the summer?"
"No. The Dursley's did not return any of the permission slips I sent them, which means I have to go back there."
For the smallest, shortest moment in the history of moments, Harry thought that he saw some disappointment on Tom's face. But then he only shrugged and laid back on Harry's bed, crossing his arms behind his head. "Oh well. I guess I'll have to find some other way to entertain myself all summer. I suppose your father might be interesting. Or I could explore the forest some more."
Nooo, Harry thought to himself. He wanted to be the one to visit with his father! And he wanted to accompany Tom in the forest. Just the two of them, alone, in the dark, spooky trees. Could be romantic, could be deadly. Defeated, the boy could only pack his stuff in silence.
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For about a month now, Harry had been living back at home in the Dursley's, wonderful, glorious home. Everyday, he would do his endless list of chores, fulfilling every whim of the family without getting as much as a "thank you" in return, only another chore or task to fill his time. Today was just like any other, and ended just like any other. After running out of things to make him do, Mr. Dursley sent him off to bed, and Harry obeyed, even though the clock in his room only read 7:12 p.m. and the sun was just beginning to dip below the roofs of houses out the window.
Bored and not tired in the slightest, Harry resorted to sitting on his bed, using the waning sunlight filtering into the window to read his textbooks. As long as he was silent, he could read as late into the night as he wanted. Just as long as he wasn't caught by one of the others, that is, but he had grown awfully crafty and was quite capable at sneakily reading. But reading was hard, Harry quickly found out, when your brain continuously veered off into different thoughts, particularly of Tom, who was all alone back in the castle. Oh, wonderful, wonderful Tom. Would he even remember Harry by the time summer was over? Would he care about him in the slightest? Would he even remember his name?! Oh, why? Why must he be separated from that perfect man?
While Harry fretted over whether or not Tom would remember his existence, he hadn't noticed that the sun had fully gone below the horizon and drenched his room in darkness until steps in the hallway brought him back to reality. Welp, better hide the book. Harry pulled the blanket over the textbook and laid down in the bed, as if he had been asleep the whole time and there was totally not a book under the covers with him. The steps soon faded as the walker went down the hall, and silence took over once more. Maybe bedtime was a good idea, he thought, closing his eyes and soon drifting off into sleep.
A short sleep, that was. Soon, Harry was awakened by a voice and a poke to his forehead. A hard poke, too. "Ow," he whined as his forehead was forcibly jabbed, his eyes opening and focusing on who did it.
"Why are you cuddling a book? You're strange. Anyways, get up and get your junk and let's go." Without his glasses, Harry wasn't able to tell who this blurry, manly shape was, but the melodious, deep, and dreamy voice could only belong to one person.
"Tom? Why are you here? How did you get here?" Harry sat up, reaching to grab his glasses, which he had placed on the nightstand before he went to sleep. Once they were placed on his eyes, the blurry figure became the beautiful figure of the magnificent Tom.
"The window, obviously. Get your stuff and let's go. I'm taking you back to the castle."
Tom...came… to get him? Harry was bewildered and merely looked at the taller male with a blank look for a second. But then he happily threw off the blankets and scrambled to his feet, gathering socks to put on and a coat. Most of his few belongings were still packed from when he returned from Hogwarts, so he only needed to shove a few things in a bag and put on his shoes and he was ready to go. Of course, he did this as quietly as he could so he wouldn't alert the Dursley's of his movements and escape. He was escaping! With Tom! His sweet saviour, Tom.
"Okay, I'm ready," Harry said with a big grin, his bags packed and at his side. "How are we getting back to Hogwarts? And what am I going to do when I get there? The Dursleys did not sign that slip so I'm not allowed there."
"Brooms, and I have my ways. You'll see when we get there." Tom seemed to have an amused look on his face and the tone of his voice seemed to be ever so slightly happier than usual. He walked over to the window, which was now opened from his entrance, and waved his hands to show that there were two brooms floating outside.
With a bit of help from Tom, Harry was easily able to mount the broom, one bag on his back and another against his body as he held onto it. Once Tom was on his own broom, the two set off, flying into the direction of the castle. Harry, of course, was not at all aware of which direction to go, so he settled on following Tom, who seemed to know where he was going.
Some silence passed between the two for some time as they peacefully rode through the night sky. Harry decided to ruin that peaceful silence with a question. "So, why did you come get me?"
"It was quite boring being at the castle by myself," Tom said, glancing over at the younger boy as he spoke before returning his look to the front. "And… a little lonely, to be honest." A frown passed onto his face for a short time, but then it returned to its normal, stoic look, which then turned into a playful smirk. "I need someone to do stuff for me, of course. And if you aren't around, who am I going to use as my scapegoat?"
Harry was pleased with this answer and a large grin struck his face. "I will happily be your scapegoat!" He exclaimed cheerily. Tom cared enough to come get him! Even if he would only be stuck doing chores for Tom like he does for the Dursleys, he would do them more readily and willingly because the amazing Tom deserves to have Harry as his personal maid. He would even wear one of those dumb maid outfits if Tom wanted. Okay, maybe he wouldn't do that. But he would at least think about it if he was asked.
For the rest of the ride, the two shared several conversations on various topics, and soon, they were arriving back at the castle.