Chapter Text
TOM
Tom shoved Billy Stubbs into the wall, ignoring the other boy’s weak protest. Billy’s knees were scraped from when Tom had knocked him onto the pavement, but Tom wasn’t satisfied. He wouldn’t be satisfied until Billy cried hard enough to erase the memory of Harry’s tiny frown from Tom’s mind.
“If I hear you calling Harry a four-eyes again, I’ll throw you in front of a car,” Tom said viciously.
“It was just a joke!” Billy said in a panic, his arms braced over his face in case Tom decided to hit him there, too.
“You’re a joke,” Tom shouted, aiming a kick at Billy’s sore knee.
Billy yelped and almost fell down as he tried to avoid the blow. Tom had chosen this area near the sandpit because it was farthest away from the playground, which was where most of the teachers stayed to watch over the children. This spot had the added benefit of a corner wall to shield his act of revenge.
Unfortunately for Tom, his genius could only get him so far. Mr Dumbledore had a keen eye for misbehaviour, Tom’s misbehaviour in particular, and so of course it happened that the kindly teacher came around the corner in time to see Tom yank Billy to his feet for a proper pummelling.
“Mr Dumbledore!” exclaimed Billy, shoulders slumping in relief.
“Sir,” Tom said quickly, straightening and adjusting the wrinkles in Billy’s shirt. “Billy fell down and scraped his knees.”
Billy looked at him. Tom stared at him in return, lips twitching with the urge to sneer. If Billy knew what was good for him, he would keep his mouth shut.
“I scraped my knees,” Billy said, having made the wise decision to say nothing.
Mr Dumbledore guided Billy back into the building for bandages while Tom trailed after them. No one said anything until they arrived at the nurse’s office, where Miss Poppy kicked up a fuss as she cleaned Billy’s knees and applied bright yellow bandages to them.
“Can you tell Miss Poppy and I how you hurt your knees?” Mr. Dumbledore asked Billy once it was done.
Billy wiped tears and snot from his face like the weak brat he was. “I fell,” he said slowly, peeking over Miss Poppy’s shoulder to look at Tom, who was standing a few paces away.
Miss Poppy tutted in disapproval and nudged MrDumbledore with her shoe. “And I suppose you will say that this is a case of ‘boys being boys’, Albus?”
Mr Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Perhaps a tad more complex than that. A mere moment before I happened upon young Billy and Tom, I happened to see Harry sitting by himself on the blue bench, looking most upset.”
Tom felt his heart drop to the soles of his feet. Did Mr Dumbledore know what had happened with Billy and Harry? He narrowed his eyes. If that was the case…
Miss Poppy sniffed. “No more injured children today, if you please.”
Mr Dumbledore smiled. “I shall try my best to prevent any such occurrences, Poppy,” he said, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation.
Miss Poppy instructed Tom and Billy to go back to the classroom together, a task Tom was glad to have because it gave him a moment alone with Billy.
As they walked, Tom eyed Billy’s bandaid-covered knees with disgust. “Good that you didn’t tell on me,” he said to the other boy. “No one likes a snitch.”
Billy scowled. His steps were a bit unsteady. Occasionally, he would wince at the tug of the bandages on his injuries. “You’re a jerk.”
“I meant what I said,” Tom said severely. “If you bother Harry again, I’ll kill you.”
Billy paled, which was what Tom liked to see. They walked on a little further. Tom was already bored. He missed Harry. Hopefully, when Tom told Harry the story of Billy’s punishment, Harry would cheer up.
“My legs hurt,” Billy complained.
“That’s your own fault.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
“Is not, Tom!”
Tom tried to trip him but missed as Billy hopped out of the way.
A throat cleared from behind them. “Tom? Did I just see you attempt to trip Billy?”
Tom spun around, horrified that he’d gotten caught. “Um,” he said, unsure what Mr Dumbledore had seen.
“I’m sorry, Tom. I’ll have put you in time out,” Mr Dumbledore continued, much to Tom’s horror.
“Ha ha,” Billy said, sticking out his tongue, though he stopped when Mr Dumbledore raised a brow at him.
“May I have a different punishment?” Tom asked dully. He hated time out. It meant he got to spend less time with Harry. It also meant Harry went to play with other kids that weren’t him, which was upsetting. “Harry and I had plans,” he added, because everyone knew Mr Dumbledore had a soft spot for Harry.
“Harming other students is not tolerated,” Mr Dumbledore said sternly.
Harming students who deserved it ought to be its own separate rule. “Fine,” Tom said. Then he thought about it further and asked, “Can Harry sit with me?”
“No.”
Ugh.
Back in the classroom, Tom was made to sit on the little stool in the corner. An unfair punishment. This was all so stupid and Mr Dumbledore was so mean. How was Tom supposed to protect Harry when he had to sit so far away? He needed to be close to Harry all the time, always.
He and Harry were not meant to be separated, which was what Tom said every time Mr Dumbledore put him in time out for misbehaving. Clearly being best friends was not a good enough reason in Mr Dumbledore’s eyes. Tom needed a stronger, better reason.
Across the room, Harry looked up from the toy trains he was playing with. He looked sad again. Tom vowed to kick Billy later, kick him extra hard for being a dirty rat.
Now bored out of his mind, Tom swung his legs up and down, kicking at the wooden rung beneath his feet. The stool was not very comfortable to sit on. He squirmed in place, wondering when he could leave. He and Harry were not meant to be separated. They were meant to be together all the time.
So that meant… that meant they should get married, because married people were never separated because they were married. Yes.
Tom nodded to himself. As soon as his time out was over, he would tell Harry that they were going to get married. Then no one would be able to keep them apart from each other ever again.
HARRY
Choo choo.
Harry dragged the little red train through the thick fluff of the big purple carpet. Inside the train, he imagined, were lots and lots of students. The students were on their way to Hogwarts, which was a school for magic.
Choo choo.
Harry mouthed the words, moving the train along, then stopped and set it aside. He glanced over at the far corner, where Tom was sitting on a small stool for his time out.
Tom said it was Mr Dumbledore’s fault, but Harry didn’t quite believe that. Harry had warned him not to get into trouble—or at least not be caught getting into trouble.
From the corner, Tom glowered, arms folded tightly over his chest. In Tom’s opinion, time out was the worst. He had once said he would rather have all his fingers broken. Harry thought that was maybe too much, but he would never say so to Tom’s face.
So Tom did not like sitting in time out. He also did not like their teacher, but Harry thought Mr Dumbledore was very nice.
Still, as nice as Mr Dumbledore was, Harry preferred Tom’s company. Playtime was boring without Tom.
Disgruntled, Harry piled all the toy trains back into their tub. He left the tub on the carpet for someone else to play with before walking over to the front desk.
“Sir?”
Mr Dumbledore smiled at him. “Yes, Harry? Do you need to use the bathroom?”
“No.” Harry rubbed his hands on his trousers. “Can you let Tom out? Please?” His mummy said that adding ‘please’ was very important.
“I’m afraid not. Tom must finish his punishment before he can enjoy playtime.”
Harry fiddled with the hem of his jumper. He did not like to argue with his teacher, but he wanted Tom to be freed. “Playtime isn’t fun without Tom,” he confessed. “I’m bored.” Then he bit his lip as if to take the words back, unsure how they would be received by his teacher.
Mr Dumbledore offered a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry, Harry. Why don’t you play with some of your other friends?”
Harry had other friends, but Tom was his best friend. Everything was better with Tom. They played Hogwarts together and Tom would talk about all the fun things they would do once they were old enough and finished with school.
“Okay,” Harry said, but he wasn’t happy about it.
Ron and Hermione were sitting at one of the small circle tables, arguing about which crayon was better. There were two orange crayons in the crayon tub, one of which was fatter and darker. Harry sat down at the table and listened to Hermione insist that the brighter orange looked nicer on blue construction paper.
Some time later, Tom was released from the corner. He stomped over to the table and tugged on Harry’s hand until Harry got the hint and stood up.
“We’re getting married tomorrow,” Tom said, sounding very determined.
“Married?” Harry glanced over his shoulder at his friends, who were watching with wide-eyed interest.
“During break.” Tom nodded. “You will marry us,” he added, pointing at Hermione, who beamed.
“What about me?” Ron demanded.
Tom frowned, looking thoughtful. “You’ll carry the rings,” Tom decided.
Ron clapped his hands. “Where are they?”
“I don’t have them yet,” Tom said after a pause. “But when I get them, I’ll give them to you. Your job is to keep them safe.”
Ron pulled out a new sheet of construction paper. “I’ll make a box for them!”
“I’ve never gotten married before,” Harry said nervously. Tom seemed to know what to do, though, which was good.
“We’ll be husbands,” Tom said very solemnly. “And you only marry once,” he emphasized. “When we get married, that’s it. You can’t marry anyone else.”
“We can be husbands,” Harry agreed. He felt a little giddy at the thought. Mummy always said that Daddy was her best friend. This must be what best friends were meant to do. Harry looked at Ron, who was trying to fold a paper box, and Hermione, who was drawing out a plan for the wedding. Maybe they would get married someday, too.
Tom smiled. “I will take good care of you,” he promised as he squeezed Harry’s hand.
Harry didn’t doubt that. He smiled happily in response and nodded.
Tom grinned back, all lopsided, and said, “Tomorrow will be the best day ever. You’ll see.”
That night, Harry was too excited to go to sleep, only his body did not agree. He kept yawning as his mummy tucked him into bed.
“Don’t want sleep,” Harry protested.
His mummy gave his stomach a rub. “Why not?”
“Tomorrow is important.”
“School is important,” she agreed. “But you know what’s also very important? Sleep!”
Harry didn’t think sleep was that important. Sleep was just something he was forced to do, like eating carrots. But sleep was more powerful than carrots because sometimes Harry could avoid carrots. He could never avoid sleep.
His mummy kissed his forehead. “Good night, pumpkin. Sleep well.”
“Good night Mummy,” Harry said, stifling another huge yawn. Tomorrow, he and Tom would get married. He couldn’t wait.
Harry rolled onto his side and hugged his toy owl closer to his chest. “Good night, Hedwig,” he added.
“Good night, Hedwig,” his mummy said, giving the owl a pat. Then she turned off the lights and shut the door.
That night, Harry dreamt of flying through the clouds with Tom by his side. It was the best dream he could remember having.
TOM
Tom’s wedding to Harry took place during break time outside. They held the event on the hill, next to the small clump of trees that was commonly known as the Forbidden Forest when they played pretend.
Most of their classmates were here to watch the wedding because Tom had forced them into it, but now that things were starting, they did seem excited. Hermione had picked lots of dandelions and bunched them into two groups for Tom and Harry to hold, and Ron had finished his box for the rings, as promised.
Harry’s smile was the widest that Tom had ever seen. Tom was sure that his decision was the correct one. He and Harry would not be separated ever again, not for time-outs and not during the holidays when Harry’s parents took him away on vacation.
At the end of the wedding, Tom put the rings on both of them and kissed Harry on the cheek. After blushing bright red, Harry shifted forward to place a matching kiss on Tom’s cheek while their classmates cheered.
Their fun was short lived when Ms McGonagall came to see what all the fuss was about. She got very upset that Tom had taken his wedding rings from two of the other teachers in the school.
But Mr Barty and Mrs Merrythought were not mad at Tom. In fact, when they learned where their rings had gone, they patted his head and called him cute. Tom was even permitted to keep Mr Barty’s ring. It was a class ring, too big for Harry or Tom to wear at the moment, but Tom planned to wear it once he was old enough for it to fit.
Much to Tom’s relief, Mr Dumbledore was convinced by the other teachers to not punish him for the theft, which meant Tom and Harry got to spend their honeymoon playing with toy trains on the big carpet.
“Now that we’re married,” Tom said as Harry drove the red train around in circles, “we go everywhere together.”
Harry glanced up at him. “You’ll come home with me?”
“That’s what married people do,” Tom said.
“We tried that before,” Harry reminded him. “It didn’t work.”
One day after school, Tom had snuck into the boot of the Potters’ car. It had worked all the way until Tom’s dad made a big deal about him being missing during pick-up time. Then everyone had gotten all worked up looking for him.
When Harry had gone into the garage to open the boot and let Tom out, Harry’s parents had caught them. Mr Potter had driven Tom right home and apologized to Tom’s dad for all the trouble.
Tom had gotten an awful scolding for that one. He had never felt so miserable and he hated his dad for making him feel that way.
“We’re married now,” Tom said seriously. “So maybe they’ll say yes. Ask your daddy when he comes to get you.”
“Okay.” Harry brightened, shoving the train aside so he could grin at Tom. “I’ll ask.”
“And tell me what he says tomorrow,” Tom added. He was happy to hear that Harry thought there was a chance. He did hope that he could go home with the Potters.
Harry launched himself across the carpet and gathered Tom in a big hug. “I will, I promise.”
Tom squeezed back, his chest thudding hard, so hard that it hurt a little. “I know,” Tom said thickly. Harry always kept his promises.
When school ended for the day, Tom was not happy about going home. But he waved goodbye to Harry and promised to give Harry all his good luck until they met back again tomorrow.
Sadly, Tom was always the first to leave because Mrs Cole was always on time, whereas Harry’s daddy was often late. When Mrs Cole saw them both, she fussed over Tom’s coat and ushered him into the car.
“Did you have a good day at school?” she asked him as she buckled his seatbelt.
Tom did not mind Mrs Cole, who was his nanny. Sometimes she did nice things like give him extra biscuits. However, anything Tom told her would get back to his dad, which meant she could not be told anything that Tom needed kept secret.
“Boring,” Tom said. “The only person I like is Harry. If his parents say yes, can I stay with them?”
“We’ll have to see what your father says,” Mrs Cole said as she pulled the car out of the lot. “I think a sleepover at a friend’s would be good for you.”
Tom frowned. “Not a sleepover.”
“Then a playdate,” Mrs Cole corrected with a disapproving look. “I told him you needed more friends your own age, but did he listen to me? No. He enrolled you late. Now he complains to me about you every time you get into trouble like it isn’t his fault.”
Boring. Tom stopped listening and looked out the window instead. Was Harry talking with Mr Potter right now? Asking if Tom could stay with them?
When Tom and Mrs Cole arrived home, Tom unbuckled his own seatbelt and shot out of the car. “I’m going to my room,” he said over his shoulder. “You can fetch me when it’s time for dinner.”
Mrs Cole rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, Tom. I’ll be sure to do that.”
That would give him time to pack his things. Tom ran up to his room and wrenched open the door. If he was going to stay with Harry, then he needed to bring all the important things. His own things and extra things for Harry. Things that Harry didn’t have.
Harry did have nice things, but he didn’t have a dad as rich as Tom’s. So Tom had to make sure he provided for them both by bringing everything they needed.
When Tom’s dad arrived home for dinner, Tom had packed two bags with everything needed for living at Harry’s house. If he’d forgotten anything, he would simply ask Mrs Cole to bring it to Harry’s house for him.
Mrs Cole brought up the subject of Tom staying with the Potters over supper. Tom was glad. He knew his idea would be taken more seriously coming from another adult.
“Tom needs more friends his own age,” she said primly. “You cannot keep him locked in the house with tutors at all hours of the day, Thomas. The boy needs socializing.”
“Socializing,” Tom’s dad scoffed. “Every other week I hear from the headmaster about what a troublemaker he is.” He gestured with his fork, stabbing through the air to emphasize his words. Then his gaze slid to the side as he asked, “Are you learning at school, Tom?”
Upon being spoken to, Tom straightened up and nodded eagerly. “Yes, dad. We read books all the time.”
“Are you writing? Doing maths?”
“Sometimes.”
“I’ll have to speak with your headmaster about an advanced stream.”
Tom poked at his plate. He liked his class the way it was, even if the learning bits were too easy for him. “But can I go to the Potters’?”
“You mean ‘may I go’,” Tom’s dad corrected.
“May I go to the Potters’? Please?”
His dad levelled him with a serious look. “I will consider it if you behave until the end of the month. No more calls from your school. No more arguing at home. You will do what Martha tells you to do without question.”
Tom held back a scowl. This was why he never told his dad anything. The man probably wouldn’t even care that Tom had gotten married today. He didn’t know what it was like at school. Not to mention the end of the month was ages away. It was unfair.
Mrs Cole frowned. “Thomas—”
“He needs a reason to behave, Martha. I won’t hear another word about it.”
Tom shoveled his vegetables into his mouth so his dad couldn’t say he was misbehaving. He would keep his goal firmly in mind: living with Harry. His suffering would be worth it if he could stay with Harry’s family.
Mrs Cole glanced sideways at Tom but said nothing. Whatever. He didn’t need her help. She would only get in the way. If Tom failed because of her big mouth, he would make sure to get his revenge.
That night, Tom hid Mr Barty’s ring into the top drawer of his dresser to keep it safe. For now, he could live with the annoying adults and stupid timeouts. Someday, he would have his own ring to give to Harry. Proof that they would be together forever.