Word Count: 2854

Warnings: NA

Capable Of Love

"You lied to me."

Harry startled slightly, and then looked up from his sketchbook, frowning. "Eh?"

"You lied to me," Tom repeated, as he walked further into the Room of Requirement. "You told me that you weren't dating."

"I… I'm not?"

"Lucius saw you at Quidditch practice, Harry. Weasley was all over you," Tom grumbled, sitting down on the sofa beside Harry. "I thought that you'd at least tell me about it, if you started dating someone. I'm supposed to be your best friend."

Harry rolled his eyes. "First of all, Lucius should mind his own damn business, or at least get his facts straight, before he says anything. Second of all, I'm not dating anyone, and of course I would tell you if I was. And third… Tom, you know that you're more than my best friend. You're my… my… my person."

"Uh huh."

Tom pulled a pack of Muggle cigarettes from his robe pocket, and an ashtray materialised on the table in front of the sofa. He watched as Harry wrinkled his nose, before lighting one anyway. He barely stopped himself from blowing the smoke in Harry's face, but he wasn't that angry.

Well. Anymore.

"You're really not dating the Weasley girl?"

"Really not," Harry denied, rolling his eyes. "That stinks."

"Hmph."

…

"I apologise," Lucius said, though he looked as though he thought what Tom was saying was sketchy. "I must have gotten the wrong end of the stick."

"Well, make up your mind, Lucius! What were they actually doing?" Tom asked.

He'd returned to the Slytherin Common Room earlier than he usually did. He wanted answers and he wouldn't rest until he got them.

It wasn't even that he thought Harry had been lying to him when he'd questioned him, but he knew that there was likely more to the story that Harry had told him, and Tom wanted to know what it was. Lucius wasn't one for telling tales… at least not about Harry.

The Slytherins were all very aware that Harry was off limits to even the smallest of attacks.

"Harry wasn't doing anything," Lucius said, the same as he had when he'd first brought Tom the information, earlier that day. "Weasley was all over him like an unseemly case of Dragon Pox, though. Pulling on his hair, hanging off his arm, and she kissed his cheek twice."

Tom grimaced.

He wasn't jealous, but… well, okay, he was a little bit jealous. But only because Harry was his, and Ginevra Weasley had no right to touch him.

Ever.

"I'll keep an eye on the situation," was all that he said in reply.

Lucius, wisely, said nothing.

…

Tom was one of the first into the Great Hall on Saturday morning. It was a Hogsmead weekend, and he and Harry would be going together, as they did every time they were granted freedom from the school gates.

He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, as the Hall began to fill up. Finally, Harry appeared, his hair a mess as always. Tom watched as he turned to scan the Slytherin table, until his eyes fell on Tom.

He waved, smiling brightly, and Tom felt himself relax a little bit. He turned half of his attention to his housemates' conversation, though he kept an eye on Harry across the Hall, where he was tucking into his breakfast, chatting with Weasley and Granger.

"Time to go," Lucius said, checking the expensive watch that adorned his wrist. "You're going with Harry?"

"Of course," Tom confirmed, nodding his head. "I'll likely see you there at some point. Harry insists on finishing up in the Three Broomsticks."

Lucius nodded and stood up, and Tom followed suit just a minute or so later, crossing the Hall into lion territory.

Weasley—Ginevra, that was—was sitting beside Harry now, though she hadn't long arrived. Ronald was sitting on his other side, while Granger sat facing them.

Granger was the first to see him approaching, and she smiled, albeit a little timidly. He returned the smile, charming as always, and she seemed to grow in confidence a little, her own smile becoming more natural.

Tom didn't have a problem, as such, with Granger and Weasley, aside from the time they took up that Harry could be spending with him, obviously. That said, he'd never been particularly interested in befriending them, either.

The only person Tom cared about was Harry, and that was well known throughout the school.

He put his hands on Harry's shoulders, subtly nudging Ginevra away from him at the same time. "Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry nodded, draining the last of his drink before he stood up.

"You smell good," he said, smiling at Tom.

"You smell like coffee," Tom replied, though he returned the smile. "I like it. It's very you."

"If that's your way of telling me that I'm a zombie before I have coffee, I can't even argue with you," Harry replied. He turned his eyes on his friends. "I'll see you two later. Have fun."

Granger blushed, and Tom raised a speculative eyebrow as he and Harry moved away from the table, heading for the double doors.

"Are the two of them finally going on a date?" he asked.

Merlin knew he listened to Harry complain about them not just sucking it up and dating enough.

Harry nodded. "Ron finally found his balls and asked her out. It was quite sweet, actually."

Tom snorted. He could think of many sweet things—like the way Harry wrinkled his nose when he didn't like something, for instance—but Weasley finding his balls was not one of them.

Harry linked his arm through Tom's, moving a little closer to Tom's side. "Where are we going first?"

"Scrivenshafts," Tom replied. "I need some more gold ink. And then… I assume that you'd like to go to Honeydukes, and buy your weight in sugar?"

Harry grinned up at him. "You know me so well."

Tom sighed. Yes. Yes he did.

…

"I didn't ask it to rain," Harry complained. "How dare it?"

Tom snorted, but conjured an umbrella with his wand, holding it aloft above both of their heads. "I don't think that the weather really takes your wants into account, Harry."

Harry pouted. "I don't like rain, Tom. Rain is dismal."

"You're just mad because you know that I'll have a fit if you go flying in it again," Tom replied.

Harry snorted. "Yes. Yes I am. I was planning to get another practice in, this afternoon."

Tom shook his head. "As much as it pains me to admit it, Harry, Gryffindor are more than ready for the match next week. You've prepared your team very well. I think that you can give the wet practice a miss."

"You're so protective," Harry said, a slight teasing lilt to his tone as he shook his head. He burrowed his head under Tom's arm, so that Tom's arm was around his shoulders. "You do realise that you're only a few months older than me, right?"

"Completely beside the point," Tom replied. "You have absolutely no self preservation, someone has to take care of you. If I hadn't been around, Merlin knows what trouble you would have gotten yourself into over the years."

"Yeah, yeah. Oh. I need to go to the pet shop. If I forget her treats again, I'll need you to protect me from Hedwig, because she'll be violently angry with me."

Tom chuckled. He found it hilarious how Hedwig treated Harry. She was very much the boss in their relationship, despite her being his pet. When he'd voiced as much to Harry, he'd been told quite simply, "Nah, I'm her human."

Which was true enough, Tom supposed.

He vanished the umbrella he'd conjured once Harry had stepped into the store, and then followed him inside. Instead of going to the owl treat stand, where Harry had headed, he walked to the back of the store, where the tanks were.

He did enjoy visiting the snakes when he had the opportunity.

His favourite, an emerald green viper, rose up as he approached, hissing a greeting. He hissed back at her, asking how she'd been earring, and if anyone had shown an interest in purchasing her yet.

They hadn't; apparently, most thought that she was too small.

Idiots. She was perfect.

He stayed with her until Harry joined him, and then allowed the younger boy to pull him away.

"Did you get Hedwig's treats?"

Harry nodded, but his newly found cheerfulness seemed rather over the top for such a simple purchase. Tom didn't question it though; he liked it when Harry was happy.

"Shall we go and get some butterbeer to sneak into the castle?" Harry asked, nodding at the Three Broomsticks.

Tom snorted, but nodded his head. "Of course. After you."

…

Gryffindor won. Of course they did.

As soon as Harry had caught the snitch, Tom made his way down from the stands, and waited for Harry to land. The second he was off his broom, Tom hustled him into the changing rooms, out of the terrible weather.

"You do know that a bit of rain isn't actually going to kill me, right?" Harry asked, as Tom handed him a towel for his hair.

"You might get a cold, and then it'll be me that has to listen to you complain about it," Tom pointed out, as he pulled Harry's clothes from his locker.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by Ginevra's shrill voice piercing the air.

"Harry, we did it, we—" She cut herself off when she saw Tom standing beside Harry. "What are you doing here?"

"Making sure that my Harry doesn't get ill," Tom replied, smirking smugly at her when the happiness drained from her face.

"Your Harry?" she asked, frowning.

Again, Harry opened his mouth to speak, but this time, he was beaten to the punch by Tom.

"Yes. My Harry. Don't tell me that you thought that you had a chance with him, Weasley. Merlin, I'll be embarrassed for you."

"Tom," Harry protested, shaking his head. "Be nice, or be silent."

"She asked for clarification, Harry," Tom pointed out. "I was only providing it."

"How does that make things okay?" Harry asked. "You can't just go around talking to people like that, especially when we're not together like that."

Tom looked away.

"But also," Harry looked at Ginny, and Tom turned back to watch, narrowing his eyes slightly. "As much as I like you as a friend, Ginny, that's all we're ever going to be. I thought that you knew that? I'm sorry if you feel like I've led you on, or anything."

She stared at him for a long moment, and then shook her head. She turned on her heel and ran back in the direction of the girls changing room. Harry watched her go and sighed.

"You did—"

"Nope. Not listening to you right now, because I'm mad at you. You didn't have to be mean to her like that, Tom."

"You literally just told her that you don't like her like that."

Tom couldn't see the problem, when he'd only voice exactly what Harry was feeling.

"There's a way to say things, and a way not to. In case you didn't get it, what you just did was how not to say it."

"Harry…"

Harry just shook his head. "It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast, Tom."

"You're not coming to the Room of Requirement this evening?"

He shook his head. "No. We won the game, I need to show my face at the party, and do some damage control. I need to make sure that Ron doesn't want to kill me for hurting his little sister."

Tom watched as Harry changed his clothes quickly, and then left the changing room with barely a goodbye.

He didn't know whether he should be angry or worried, so settled on both and stormed off to find Lucius. Whenever he was in a mood, terrorising his favourite minion was the best way to release the bad energy.

Only, the anger quickly dissipated when he reached his dorm, and he found a glass tank waiting for him, with the emerald snake that he loved so much inside.

Dammit.

…

Harry had managed to stay in a bad mood with Tom for four days. A personal best for him, Tom thought sourly. Even when Tom had thanked him profusely for the snake the morning after their argument, Harry had only nodded and walked away.

Running a hand through his hair, Tom groaned. Something was going to have to be done, and soon. He was sitting in the Room of Requirement, a quill in his hand. He was working on his Charms essay.

He was a week early, but since Harry hadn't been around to distract him, he was even further ahead in his studies than he usually was.

He was about to give up and go back to the Slytherin Common Room for the night, when the door opened and Harry walked in. He didn't have his bag with him like he usually did, so Tom knew that he was there specifically to talk.

He dropped his quill onto the parchment and sat back in his seat.

"Smells like an ashtray in here," Harry complained. "Have you been having fun destroying your lungs, without me here to whine about it?"

Tom shook his head. He would never be glad for Harry's absence.

Harry's lips twitched. "Okay, so, you're an idiot."

Tom frowned. He had to admit that he hadn't been expecting the conversation to begin like that.

"Don't look at me like that," Harry said, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the sofa beside Tom. "You are an idiot. Hermione pointed out that you were jealous of Ginny, which was why you were so harsh with her. So yeah, I'm sticking with the idiot thing."

"What would Granger know?"

Harry shrugged. "She said something about star signs, or horoscopes, or something, but I'm pretty sure she was just taking the piss. You know how she feels about Divination. But anyway, I wondered why you'd be jealous, when you know you're my person, but then she hit me multiple times with a pillow and told me to stop being an idiot."

Tom snorted. "I don't know why she bothers to persevere with you and Weasley, she's clearly got superior intelligence."

"Remember that she called you an idiot first," Harry reminded him. "But anyway, she said that even though we're not dating, you want us to be dating, and I was just being an oblivious twit."

Tom blinked. Harry tilted his head. "Is she right, Tom? Or is she just way off base, and you were just being possessive because you're a prat?"

"I don't know why I love you so much when you call me such names, Harry," Tom said, shaking his head.

"But you do? Love me, I mean?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "You really are an oblivious twit if you haven't realised that by yourself, Harry. You're the only person that I show a modicum of affection for; it's practically a love confession in itself."

"But do you—"

"Harry Potter," Tom interrupted. "Nothing, and I do mean nothing, means more to me in the world than you do. I hate people instinctively, simply for looking at you. I want you to belong to me so irrevocably, that I never have to worry about someone else touching you. I don't like people touching you, Harry. Only I should be allowed to touch you."

"That's… it's a really good job that I know you, Tom, because if you said that to anyone else, you'd get arrested."

Tom snorted. "I wouldn't say it to anyone else. That's the point that I'm trying to make, Harry. I'm yours, only yours."

Harry bit his lip. "I'm yours, too. Crazily, because I think it's probably going to get me killed, but… I guess that you were right when you said that I have no self preservation."

Tom reached out and tugged on Harry's arm, until he was practically sprawled across Tom's chest. "You've always belonged to me, Harry. It just took you a while to catch up."

Harry rolled his eyes, but he still leant up to press a kiss against Tom's cheek. "As long as you're always mine… and that you also learn to listen to me occasionally, about the right way to do things."

Tom nodded. "Aren't you my conscience?"

"Only because you don't have one."

"Exactly. You see how important you are to me?"

Laughing now, Harry accepted another kiss, and said, "I love you. Prat."

"I love you too," Tom said, nuzzling Harry's cheek with his nose. "Don't ever doubt that. Whatever I am, only you could make me capable of love, Harry."

Harry smiled and let his head rest on Tom's chest, right above his heart.

Tom wondered if it would be too cheesy to say that it only beat for Harry, and then he decided that he didn't care if it was.

He said it anyway.