Word Count: 2574

Warnings: NA

Explicitly Unspoken

Tom's knuckles were white where he was gripping at the table. Lucius sat beside him, an amused expression on his face as he watched the scene play out across the room.

He glanced at Tom, and arched an elegant eyebrow. "You cannot kill her. Someone's got to tell her the rules first."

Tom nodded stiffly, never taking his eyes away from the Ravenclaw who'd dared to put her hand on his Harry's shoulder.

Not that Harry actually knew that he was Tom's, but the details were unimportant.

Really, Tom thought that the girl probably already knew the rules. They'd been in place for long enough that he was quite sure the whole school—except for Harry—knew about them.

She was likely just hoping that he wouldn't be able to do anything to her in the middle of the Great Hall.

Idiot.

Tom's eyes narrowed as Harry laughed at something she said. Harry's laughs belonged to him.

How dare she?

Tom already had to share Harry with the friends that he'd made in Gryffindor—Weasley and Granger took up entirely too much of Harry's time, in Tom's opinion—but there was no way would he accept their time being cut even shorter by someone thinking that they could lay a claim on something that was already Tom's.

"You should fix that, Lucius," he murmured, his tone deceptively soft.

Lucius could practically taste the danger in it, and his back straightened automatically as he nodded his head.

"I'll deal with it before lunch."

"Good."

Tom stood, his breakfast forgotten as he crossed the hall into Lion territory. When they were younger, the Gryffindor's had always glared at him, suspicious about his motives for being there, but now, they paid him absolutely no mind.

He was as much a fixture at the Gryffindor table as Harry was at the Slytherin one.

"Tom!"

It was always gratifying when Harry showed such enthusiasm at his mere presence, and Tom awarded him with a genuine smile.

"Harry." Tom glanced at the Ravenclaw, and his smile changed, becoming almost sharklike. "Chang."

She paled slightly, though she managed a shaky smile. "Riddle. I should, uh, go."

Tom's eyes widened slightly in agreement, and she moved her hand away from Harry's shoulder like she'd been burnt. Tom smirked slightly as he sat down beside Harry and immediately stole his coffee.

"You know that they serve coffee at your table, right?" Harry teased.

"It's better over here," Tom replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Favouritism."

"But it tastes the same when I drink coffee over at the Slytherin table," Harry pointed out.

"I didn't say that the elves were favouring the Lions. They favour you," Tom replied. "Actually, everyone favours you. It's really quite sickening."

Laughing, Harry shook his head. "You're ridiculous."

"As you say," Tom said, rolling his eyes fondly. "I have to go, I just wanted to say good morning."

"And steal my coffee."

"That too. I'll see you at lunch?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Quidditch practice. The team have been struggling with—"

"Are you actively trying to torture me?" Tom interrupted.

Harry's eyes sparked with mischief.

"If I don't see you before, I'll see you after dinner, okay?" Tom asked, and Harry nodded, leaning into his side for a brief moment.

"See you later, Tom."

…

By the time that Tom got to the Room of Requirement—shortly after dinner—he was in an absolutely foul mood. He'd barely had a moment with Harry all day, and apparently, sometime between breakfast and lunch, Chang had grown herself a shiny, steel spine.

Lucius had winced when he'd explained to Tom that when he'd tried to explain the rules to her during the break between first and second lessons, Chang's exact words had been, "Until Riddle grows a pair, and asks Harry out, he's fair game."

She was lucky—or perhaps just using her vaunted Ravenclaw intelligence enough—that she hadn't said it to his face, of course. His rage would have flowed with such ease from his wand, and he'd have made sure that she regretted her words.

But of course, she hadn't—she wouldn't—and now word had spread, because that's what happened at Hogwarts. The rumour mill was always ticking over, but when something of note actually happened, it seemed to go into hyper-drive.

And so, if anything happened to Chang, the castle would know exactly who was responsible for it.

Tom was only lucky that Harry was quite possibly the most oblivious person on the planet.

And the thing was, he knew that Harry loved him. They'd been inseparable since meeting on the Hogwarts Express before their first year, and even their differing houses hadn't been enough to change that.

If Tom could only be sure that Harry thought about him romantically as well, he'd have absolutely no problem with claiming him publicly and proudly.

It was just… if Harry didn't feel that way, Tom was concerned about what such an admittance would mean for their friendship. His friendship with Harry was precious to him—the most important thing in his life, it was perfectly honest—and he didn't want to ruin that.

He'd protect his friendship with Harry over everything else in the world, and so, at least for now, he'd keep his feelings secret.

Still, between Chang and the fact that he'd barely seen Harry since breakfast, his mood was not the best.

"I think I'm dying," were the cheerful words that announced Harry's arrival, and Tom huffed, amused despite his dismal mood.

"Tell me that you're being a dramatic prat please," he requested, when Harry practically threw himself onto the sofa.

"Maybe a little," Harry agreed. "But also, I'd maybe have more luck at Quidditch this year, if I replaced half of my team with adolescent trolls."

Tom patted his legs, and Harry lifted his own into Tom's lap. He moaned softly when Tom dug strong fingers into the aching muscles of his calves.

"Ugh, my hero," he murmured, smiling at Tom briefly, before he closed his eyes.

They were silent for a while, and then Harry opened his eyes to meet Tom's. The usually emerald green seemed darker, and Tom felt a stab of lust.

Harry looked aroused.

The look was gone in less than a moment though, and Tom wasn't confident that he hadn't imagined it.

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

Tom twisted himself to look at the clock on the wall, and wrinkled his nose. "Just after eight."

Harry groaned. "I still have to write two essays."

"Potions and Charms?" Tom asked, arching his eyebrow.

Harry nodded, pouting slightly. "How did you know?"

"Because I told you to do them three days ago," Tom pointed out with a smirk. Harry kicked him, light enough that it didn't actually hurt. "Get your books, you little pest, I'll help you."

Harry wandlessly summoned his books from his bag, and Tom rolled his eyes at the display of power—and utter laziness.

"Show off."

"Jealous," Harry replied, nudging him.

Tom couldn't disagree, though it wasn't Harry's power that was stirring the emotion. No, currently, it was the quill that Harry was holding between his teeth that Tom was envious of.

"Potions first," Tom said, trying to focus himself. "Since I know that you can write the Charms essay in your sleep."

"Kay."

…

Tom stirred, blinking his eyes open. The lights in the room had dimmed, and he frowned for a moment. When he felt movement against his chest, he realised that he and Harry had fallen asleep in the Room of Requirement.

He cast tempus silently, not wanting to disturb Harry if he didn't have to. Unfortunately, it was after four in the morning, and he didn't have much of a choice.

"Harry," he murmured, shaking his shoulder gently.

Harry let out a whimper, then an almost inaudible complaint, before he finally opened his eyes.

"Tom?"

"We fell asleep," Tom said softly, his voice husky and rough with sleep.

Harry blinked at him sleepily. "Kay."

He laid his head back down and closed his eyes, his hand lifting to scrunch into Tom's robes adorably.

"Harry, we've got to get back to the dorms before people start getting up and realise that we're missing," Tom prompted, his amusement evident in his tone.

"Nooo," Harry complained. "You're comfortable."

Making sure to be careful and support his tired friend, Tom pushed up until they were both sitting up, and Harry blinked at him again.

"It's ten miles to Gryffindor," he whined.

Tom shook his head. "No, it's not. C'mon. The sooner we get you there, the sooner you can go back to sleep."

"M'kay."

Eventually, Harry managed to push himself to his feet, and put his things away in his bag. Tom draped Harry's invisibility cloak around both of them, one arm around Harry's waist—only to support him, of course—and guided him out into the corridor and towards Gryffindor tower.

When they arrived, Harry mumbled the password and then pushed the cloak at Tom. "Take it with you so you don't get caught."

"You know I don't need it," Tom replied, smiling slightly.

"I know," Harry replied, his blinks slower than usual as he fought to keep himself awake. "But if you get an evening detention, I'm gonna be pissed about it, so just… take it. I'll see you in the morning."

Tom nodded, and, unable to resist, rubbed his hand down Harry's back. "Go and get some more sleep."

…

Much to Tom's displeasure, when Harry entered the Great Hall the following morning, Chang had already gotten her claws into him. She was walking beside him, talking animatedly, flicking her hair and fluttering his eyelashes like the insipid chit that she was.

"You know," Tom murmured to Lucius. "I've tried to be patient, but she's pushing her luck."

Lucius watched the pair with distaste, and then nodded his head. "I agree. Would you like me to—"

"No. I believe I'll deal with the problem myself," Tom said, shaking his head. He was about to go and intercept, but was rendered unnecessary when suddenly, Harry changed direction, clearly startling Chang as he walked away from her without so much as a goodbye.

Instead of taking his usual seat at the Gryffindor table, Harry made his way down the opposite side of the hall to take the space quickly made for him between Tom and Lucius.

"Why do people insist on talking to me before I've had coffee?" he grumbled, as Tom dutifully poured him a fresh cup.

Harry accepted it gratefully and immediately chugged it down, disregarding the heat of it entirely. When it was empty, he put the cup on the table and let his head fall onto Tom's shoulder.

Tom could heat the mutters down the table about the 'pampered princess' and snorted as he poured Harry a second mug. He knew that the mutterings were in good humour—the Slytherins knew better—and they weren't exactly a lie.

He did pamper Harry like he was a princess.

"How are you, Lucius?" Harry asked, his head still on Tom's shoulder.

"I'm fine, Harry. Are you okay? You're less animated than usual."

"Didn't sleep well," Harry mumbled. "Or, I did for half of the night, but then I woke up, and going back to sleep was gross."

"You have a free period before lunch, right?" Tom asked, frowning slightly. "You could take a nap?"

Harry squinted. "But you're in Ancient Runes then."

Tom chuckled. "I'll skip. Meet me in the library, okay?"

Nodding, Harry nuzzled against his shoulder. "You're the best."

…

Harry stomped into the library, a fierce glare on his face. Tom watched him approach with wide eyes, because Harry was very rarely in a bad mood.

"What's wrong?" he asked, standing up to meet him. "Tell me who you need me to kill, and I'll go and do it."

"You'd tell me if you were seeing someone, right?"

Tom blinked. That was just about the last thing he could have expected to come out of Harry's mouth.

"Harry—"

"You would, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would," Tom offered, thoroughly wrongfooted. "But Harry, I'm not seeing anyone."

"Oh. You're sure?"

"I think that would be something I'd notice," Tom pointed out. "Harry, where in Merlin's name did you get the idea from in the first place?"

"Oh. Cho. She said that she'd 'heard it on the grapevine' that you were seeing someone, and that I should probably give you some space."

Tom was going to kill her. Dead. Deader than dead. And then he was going to turn her into an Inferius, so that he could torture her all over again.

"Ignore her, she's an imbecile," he said, tugging Harry into his arms. It was a risky move, but he couldn't help himself. He'd do anything to take that look from Harry's face. "There's only one person that I care about, and you're standing right here."

Harry pulled back a little to look up at him. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Harry nodded. "Kay. Oh. Lucius is looking for you."

"It doesn't matter right now," Tom assured him. "I'll find him later. Come and sit, I think that I promised you a nap, didn't I?"

Tom knew that Lucius would be looking for him to speak to him about Chang anyway, The witch would need to be dealt with properly, but Tom had more important things to do. Besides, he could play the long game. At the moment, he had to be smart.

"Hey, Tom?"

"Hmm?" he looked down to where Harry had settled onto his chest like he belonged there—which he did.

"You're mine. You know that, right?"

"Harry?"

"I know that we've never said it explicitly or anything but… you're mine. And I'm yours. Right?"

And all at once, calm settled inside of Tom, because of course Harry knew without Tom having to actually find the words to say it.

"Of course I know that," he replied softly, pressing a kiss to Harry's head. "Get some sleep, I'll wake you up in time for lunch."

"Kay."

…

Tom pressed a soft kiss to Harry's lips and watched him walk over to the Gryffindor table with a bounce in his step. He smirked slightly, and then calmly walked to his own seat, ignoring the rush of whispers that filled the hall.

Sitting down, his eyes sought out just one pair, and when he found them, his smirk got even more smug, if it was possible.

Chang held his gaze for all of three seconds, before she bolted from the Hall. Tom watched her go with the eyes of a predator.

"I'd like to see her between classes today, Lucius. Make it happen, won't you."

Lucius' eyes gleamed. "Of course. And… congratulations."

Tom looked across the hall at Harry, and his smirk softened to a small smile.

"He was always mine."

…

"We understand each other, don't we, Miss Chang," Tom asked, sitting casually on a desk in an abandoned classroom. Cho stood close to the door, though she couldn't leave, since Lucius was leaning against it, blocking her path to safety. "Harry is—and always was—mine."

She nodded silently, and Tom stood up, walking towards her. He paused when he was directly beside her.

"I'm glad we're on the same page. I'd hate for you to have an accident, and well. Quidditch practice can be extremely dangerous, can't it?" He smiled, and nodded to Lucius to open the door.

"Have a nice day, Miss Chang. And… enjoy Quidditch practice later, won't you?"