Chapter Text
HARRY
Harry ran into his daddy’s arms and let out a whoop of joy as he was lifted up into the air.
“Hey buddy! Did you have a good day at school?” His daddy ruffled his hair before setting him down on the ground.
Harry had so much to share he felt like he was going to explode. “Tom and I got married today!”
“Oh? Is that right?” Daddy held out his hand, which Harry took right away.
“Yes,” Harry said importantly. “We got married on the big hill. And Tom gave me a ring but he had to give it back to Mrs Merrythought after but he says he’ll get me a proper one later and we’ll be together forever.” Harry had to suck in a big breath after he finished his sentence. “Can Tom come stay with us, Daddy?”
“Woah! That’s a lot of information at once.” His daddy unlocked the door to the car, then picked Harry up to put him inside. “Put your bag on the side, kiddo.”
Harry did so then waited for his daddy to buckle him into the seat. “But can Tom come to stay with us?”
“First thing’s first,” his daddy said in a serious voice. He patted Harry’s knee. “You got married today?”
Harry nodded shyly.
His daddy raised a brow. “And you didn’t invite your mummy and me?”
Oh no. He had been so excited that he’d forgotten to invite his parents! Harry scrunched his face up. He was upset with himself for forgetting. His daddy was probably mad at him. And his mummy would be mad, too.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said miserably. He could feel his eyes getting watery. “I’m sorry! I forgot to ask!”
“It’s okay! It’s okay, Harry, don’t worry!” His daddy quickly wrapped him up a big warm hug. “I’m sure your mum will be very happy to hear you got married.”
“But you didn’t get to come,” Harry said in a quavering voice.
“That’s alright! I’m sure you and Tom will have lots of other important days that we can come to.”
“Okay,” Harry said, unconvinced.
His daddy kissed his forehead. “Let’s go home now, hm? Before your mum sends me a million texts asking if we’re home yet.”
“Okay.”
Daddy drove them home. It was not until they were inside the house and having snack time that Harry remembered to ask again if Tom could stay with them.
“Daddy?”
His daddy was doing something in the kitchen, but he came back out to say, “Yes?”
“Can Tom come stay with us?”
“If his father says it’s alright, then of course.” His daddy came closer and squeezed his shoulder. “We’d love to have Tom over.”
Harry smiled happily. “Okay! Tom said he would ask.”
“That’s great.” Daddy patted Harry’s shoulder a second time then went back into the kitchen.
Harry resumed eating his orange slices and imagined what it would be like once Tom moved in. Would they share a room? Harry’s house had an extra room that his mummy said was for guests, but if Tom moved in he wouldn’t be a guest. He would be staying here forever.
They could play together all the time. They would talk about Hogwarts and draw pictures and have snack time. It would be like having a brother! Except they were married, Harry reminded himself. So he and Tom would be like his mummy and daddy. Married.
His mummy came downstairs and into the dining room. “Home already? I missed you, pumpkin.”
“I missed you, too,” Harry said dutifully as she came closer and rubbed his back.
“Did you have a good day today?”
Harry hesitated. “Tom and I got married today.”
“Oh?” His mummy’s eyes lit up. “That’s very exciting!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you,” Harry said sadly, glancing down at his animal biscuits and sliced oranges.
His mummy bent down to look him in the eye. “That’s quite alright.” She planted a kiss on his nose. “You can tell me about it now, how's that? Then it’ll be like I was right there with you!”
Harry smiled. “Okay!” Then he stopped to think about where to begin the story of his and Tom’s marriage.
“So how did Tom ask you to marry him?” Mummy asked, settling into the chair next to his.
That was easy. “It started because Tom got put into timeout,” Harry said confidently.
“Ah,” said his mummy, frowning slightly. “I see.”
The next day at school, Harry was very excited to give Tom the good news.
“My parents said you can stay with us!” he exclaimed as Tom came over to hang his coat up in the cubby.
Tom smiled widely and turned to face him, coat forgotten. “Yeah? They did?”
“Yes,” Harry said, beaming. He puffed his chest up a little, feeling important as he did so. “They said yes.”
“That’s great,” Tom praised. “I knew you could do it, Harry.”
Harry blushed. “I want us to live together. Like married people do.”
“We are married,” Tom agreed seriously.
“Did you ask your dad?” Harry asked, twisting his hands in his jumper. “Did he say it was okay?”
Tom scowled and resumed stuffing his coat into the cubby. “He said I have to behave for the rest of the month.”
Harry didn’t think that was so bad, but it would definitely be hard for Tom. “I’ll help you,” Harry offered. “I don’t get into trouble that much. You can blame things on me, if you want.”
Tom’s scowl faded away. “No, I won’t. I don’t want you in trouble.” He reached for Harry’s hand and walked them towards the drawing table. “Maybe I’ll blame Billy.”
“But what if you get in trouble for that?”
“I won’t,” Tom said as they sat down.
“Tom,” Harry said warningly. “If you get in trouble it'll ruin things!”
“I know that,” Tom snapped. He glowered at the table for a moment, then picked up a crayon and broke it in half.
Harry quickly took the crayon pieces away and stuffed them into his pocket. Sometimes kids were scolded for breaking the crayons. “Tom, stop it. You have to be good if you want us to live together.”
Tom kicked at the table leg. “I know. I’m trying. I promise.”
“I know you are,” Harry said gently. “You know, Ron talks about sharing with his brothers all the time and how annoying they are, but I know if we share a room it’ll be great!”
“Yes,” Tom agreed, and now he was smiling again. “I started packing my things last night.”
“You did?” Harry bounced in his chair a bit. “What did you pack?”
“Just a few things,” Tom said, preening. “And a surprise.”
“A surprise,” Harry repeated in awe. “What surprise?”
“It’s not a surprise if I tell you.”
“But I want to know!” Harry wheedled.
But Tom refused to share, and he continued to refuse for the rest of the day despite Harry's best attempts at getting an answer.
TOM
Keeping his secret a surprise from Harry was fun. Tom liked knowing things that other people didn’t, but he found he liked it more when it was something fun he was keeping from Harry because it meant Harry was giving him attention all the time.
“Please will you tell me?” Harry asked for the hundredth time that day, tugging on Tom’s shirtsleeve, and Tom thought to himself that he would never get bored of hearing it.
“It’s a surprise,” Tom said. “So I can’t tell you.”
“Please?” Harry repeated, jumping up and down slightly. “I got my parents to say yes, didn’t I?”
Harry had done that, but…
“The surprise is your present,” Tom decided. “You don’t want to ruin your present, do you?”
Harry scowled. “You’ve just made that up.”
“Have not.”
Harry dropped Tom’s sleeve and nudged him with his shoulder instead. “Have too.”
Tom took Harry’s hand and held it up. They both had tied yellow string around their fingers in place of rings. Harry had even gone to the trouble of braiding it.
“We’re married now, so you can’t argue with me,” said Tom.
“I can argue,” Harry said stubbornly, tugging his hand away and folding his arms over his chest.
“Married people don’t argue,” Tom tried.
Harry squinted at him. “No,” Harry said. “That isn’t true! My parents argue.”
Tom couldn’t imagine Harry’s parents arguing about anything. They had been so nice to him on parent-teacher conference day.
“I don’t believe you,” Tom declared.
“Yes,” Harry said, poking Tom in the arm. “They argue about… cereal.”
Tom squinted. “Well,” he said, “cereal isn’t important. This is important.”
Harry scowled again, and this time there was a line between his brows. “I’m not talking to you until you tell me,” Harry declared.
“Fine,” Tom shot back. He knew that Harry wouldn’t last long before he gave in and started talking again.
Harry nodded and sat back, refolding his arms across his chest.
Tom stuffed his hands into his pockets while Harry fiddled with the blocks on the table.
“You’ll talk to me eventually,” Tom said.
Harry shook his head and only continued to glower.
After snack time, Harry still wasn’t talking. He’d talked to Ron and Hermione, but he hadn’t talked to Tom at all, even though they'd been sitting right next to each other.
Tom was getting impatient, but he refused to give in and tell Harry what the surprise was.
Hermione was interested in why Harry wasn’t talking to him, so Tom talked to her to see if Harry would slip up and interject. He even made up new bits of the story to try and annoy Harry, only it didn't work because Hermione kept asking questions and being stupid.
"You should bring the surprise tomorrow," she told him. "Then Harry will talk to you again!"
Tom didn't want to bring the surprise to school tomorrow. It was supposed to be a moving-in present. Plus, Tom still wholeheartedly believed that Harry would soon give up on his no-talking ban.
However, if Harry kept this up tomorrow, Tom would have to think of a new plan.
"You're a bad husband," Tom said later, "for not talking to me."
Harry glared back in a way that conveyed his opinion of Tom's statement. Then he leaned over to Ron and whispered in his ear.
"Harry says you're a bad husband for keeping secrets," Ron said loyally.
"That's rubbish," Tom said, kicking at the ground for good measure. "It's a surprise!"
Harry kept his lips pressed firmly together.
Tom wanted to kick someone, but he couldn’t because he had to be good. Everything sucked. Tom kicked at the nearest object instead, which was the wall, and glared when Hermione tried to tell him off for it.
When the day was finally over, Tom was conflicted. He hated saying goodbye to Harry for the day, but Harry wasn’t saying goodbye to him. It was stupid. It was terrible. Harry gave him a pat on the shoulder before leaving, but it wasn’t the same.
Tom was upset for the entire car ride home. He stared out the window as Mrs Cole drove, and he ignored all her questions about his day. When the car stopped, Tom undid his own seatbelt and hopped out on his own.
“I’m going to my room,” Tom said.
Mrs Cole caught him by the arm before he could get very far. “Did something happen at school today?”
Tom considered telling her. “Harry isn’t talking to me,” he said.
Mrs Cole frowned. “Did you make him mad at you?”
“No!” Tom said hotly, yanking his arm away. “I told him I have a surprise for him. He said he won’t talk to me until I tell him what it is.”
The left side of Mrs Cole’s mouth twitched. “I see.”
“If I tell him,” Tom continued, “then it won’t be a surprise anymore.”
“I understand,” Mrs Cole said, but Tom didn’t believe that she did.
“I want to go to my room now,” Tom said cautiously, having remembered that he was supposed to ‘behave’.
“I have an idea,” Mrs Cole said with a smile. She bent down slightly to ruffle the top of his head. “Why don’t you come with me into the kitchen?”
Tom didn’t want to, but he followed her inside and allowed her to help him shed his coat and backpack. They went into the kitchen, where Tom’s nose was greeted with the smell of freshly baked biscuits.
“You made biscuits,” Tom said, delighted. He climbed onto the stool at the counter and reached for the largest one on top. It was still vaguely warm, the chocolate chips were half-melted and the biscuit was soft and chewy.
“We’ll wrap some of these up for your friend Harry,” Mrs Cole said. “You can tell him it’s his special surprise.”
Tom swallowed his mouthful and narrowed his eyes at her. “I thought lying was bad.” She was trying to trick him!
“It won’t be a lie,” Mrs Cole said. She scooped some of the biscuits into a clear plastic bag and tied off the top. “Because these biscuits are a surprise, and they are for Harry.”
Tom was still suspicious. He stuffed the rest of his biscuit into his mouth and reached for a second one. “But when I show him the real surprise later, then he’ll know the biscuits were just to distract him.”
“But by then he’ll be so pleased with your surprise that he won’t be mad anymore, will he?”
Tom could admit this made sense. “Okay.” He took a third cookie off the pile. “Put those in my bag for tomorrow. I’m going to my room now.”
Mrs Cole snorted at him. Tom ignored her and headed to his room, which was where he was keeping his present for Harry. He had to be careful not to get caught with it, because if he did, then his dad definitely would not let him stay with the Potters.
The next day, Tom presented Harry with the biscuits. “Surprise,” he said, smiling.
Harry examined the biscuits. “Did Mrs Cole make these?”
“Yes,” Tom said. “They’re very good.”
“And this is my surprise present?”
“Yes.”
Harry opened the package up and ate one of the biscuits. “They do taste good,” he admitted through a mouthful of crumbs. “Thank you, Tom.”
Tom beamed, glad that Harry was now talking to him again. “You’re welcome.”
HARRY
Harry had a question to ask. He had come up with a new idea last night before bed and he wanted to ask Tom if he thought it was a good idea. But part of Harry worried that maybe Tom would say no. Tom had already given him biscuits today. Maybe he would think that Harry was asking for too much.
“Look at this,” Tom said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts.
Harry glanced over. Tom was drawing something on a piece of paper. “What is it?” Harry asked, since he couldn’t see the parts of the drawing that were blocked off by Tom’s hands.
“I’m drawing our house.”
Harry thought the house looked more like a robot head than a proper house. “What’s this bit here?”
Tom frowned. “That’s the door.”
Harry blinked. “Oh.” Then, quickly because he didn’t want Tom to feel sad, he asked, “And is that us?”
“Yes,” Tom said proudly. “That’s both of us.”
Harry thought that Tom had drawn him shorter than was really necessary. “What are we wearing?”
“We’re wearing suits,” Tom said, pointing. “That’s the bowtie.”
Looking at Tom’s drawing, Harry thought that he might be able to ask his question if he led the conversation the right way. “When do you think we’ll wear suits?” Harry asked.
Tom shrugged. “When we’re older.”
“People wear suits when they get married,” Harry added.
“Yes,” Tom said. He paused and looked down at his drawing. “I’ll get us suits in the future.”
“Well, I was thinking,” Harry said slowly, “that maybe we could get married again.”
“Again?” Tom set his crayons down and turned to look Harry in the eye. “But we’re already married.”
“I know,” Harry said quickly. “It’s just… my parents wanted to come. I think they were sad that they didn’t. So I thought we could do it again!” He looked down at his lap. “I know you said we could only get married once, but… I really want them to come.”
Tom was quiet for a moment. Harry gnawed anxiously on his lower lip, waiting for a response.
“Okay,” Tom said finally. “We can get married again.”
Harry smiled so wide his cheeks hurt a little. “Thank you, Tom!”
Tom hesitated, then reached over and gave him a hug. “It’s okay for us to get married again,” he said as his arms squeezed in, “because it’s still me you’re marrying.”
Harry nodded happily. “Does this mean we can get married as much as we want?”
“Yes,” Tom said. He withdrew and nodded with confidence. “We can get married as much as we want.”
“I’m so glad,” Harry said. He was very relieved. “Can we get married again tomorrow?”
“Your parents can come tomorrow?”
Harry frowned. “I guess I should ask them.”
“You can ask,” Tom agreed. “And if they say yes, then we can.”
Harry sat back in his chair and looked around the classroom. “Do you think Hermione will marry us again?”
“Of course she will.”
“Maybe Mrs Cole can make more biscuits.”
“Maybe.”
Harry swung his legs back and forth under the table. “I can’t wait to tell them.”
“Your parents?” Tom asked after a second.
“Yeah.” Harry beamed. “I’ll ask my mummy to take pictures!”
“That would be nice,” Tom agreed. “We can put them in our room.”
Harry liked hearing that. He liked hearing they would be sharing a room. It would be a sleepover every night.
“Tom will stay in my room,” Harry said excitedly. He had just finished telling his parents all about Tom’s plans for the wedding and the biscuits that Mrs Cole had made.
“We’ll move the futon in for Tom,” said his mummy.
Harry didn’t think the futon was very comfy. He usually only slept there when he wasn’t feeling well and he didn’t want to sleep alone in his room. “Can’t Tom sleep in my bed with me?”
“You’ll have to wait quite a few more years for that—” Daddy started to say, only then Mummy elbowed him in the stomach.
“What your daddy means is that your bed is probably too small to share!” His mummy picked him up for a hug. “I’m sure Tom will be just fine on the futon, pumpkin.”
“Okay,” Harry mumbled. He buried his face against his mummy’s neck. “And you’ll come to the wedding?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She patted his shoulder. “Are you having it tomorrow?”
Harry lifted his head back. “Tom said we could.”
“Well, if Tom says so,” his daddy said brightly, “then that sounds like a wonderful plan. Will Tom’s dad be coming?”
Harry frowned. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
Mummy set him back down on the ground. “Don’t worry. Daddy and I will find out for you, alright?”
“Okay,” Harry agreed. Then he had to stifle a yawn before he could continue, “And you’ll take photos.”
“Plenty of photos,” she promised. “Enough for a whole album.”
That made Harry very happy. “Tom said we’ll have a house together one day,” he added. “Will you come visit me?”
“Every day,” Daddy said with a grin. “You’ll have to kick me out to get rid of me!”
“I would not,” Harry said doubtfully. He blinked a few times, feeling suddenly tired. “I want to see you all the time.”
“Of course you do.” He ruffled Harry’s hair. “You’re the best boy any parents could ask for.”
Harry smiled and wrapped his daddy up in a hug. “Tom and I can have a foo-ton for you and Mummy in our house.”
His daddy laughed. Harry leant into the hug and made a soft noise of surprise as he was lifted back up into the air and draped over his daddy’s shoulder. The floor was now far away again. Harry yawned loudly and let his eyes close. The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner he would see Tom again.
“Bedtime,” his mummy said fondly. “Up we go!”
The three of them walked up the stairs together. Harry was barely able to hear what his parents were saying. He felt so warm.
“You know what, Lils? I think Harry has a point about the futon. Maybe we should invest in one of those foldable bed things if Tom’s going to be over all the time.”
“I don’t know about Tom’s father. He didn’t even attend the parent-teacher conference last term.”
“He’s a busy man. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of him since Harry and Tom are so close. At any rate, we’ll do our best to be friendly.”
“I hope so.”
