Tom held tightly onto Harry as they ventured into Diagon Aley and Harry didnt have the heart to tell him, his nails were breaking his skin.

“Would you like to go the bookstore first?” Harry asked. Thomas and Merope asked that he bring Tom back before sunset, so he wanted to make sure Tom got to do the things he wanted to do.

Tom nodded, then twined his arm around Harry's like an insidious vine. “Harry... is everyone here a wizard or witch?”

“No,” Replied harry, leading them to the bookstore. He catches someone watching him with wide eyes and quickly speeds up. "Some people here are muggles, but their children are wizards or witches. You have to be magical or be with someone magical to enter.”

“Who brought you here?”

Harry looks down, surprised, then clears his throat before answering. “I brought myself.”

Tom frowns up at him. “Do you not have a mum and dad?”

“No,” He doubts this is a topic Merope would want tom to be exposed to but continues anyway. “They died when I was a baby.”

Tom stops and looks at Harry funnily. “So you're an orphan?”

“Yes.”

“But orphans are dirty and freaky,” Tom says, in a matter of fact way. “There's one at school and no one talks to her because her clothes are old and her hair stinks.”

Harry feels sick. Who is this girl? And who taught Tom to hold such views?

“Being orphaned is something that can happen to anyone,” He tells Tom. Merope would definitely not be happy with him for saying that. “You should remember that.”

He tried to loosen Tom’s grip on him a bit because it had suddenly become suffocating, but Tom refuses.

“I'm sorry, Harry. I don't think you're dirty or freaky. I love you.”

Harry resists rolling his eyes. What a manipulative little bugger.

“That’s nice.”

“Aren't you going to say it back?”

“I don't think you're dirty or freaky either.”

Tom actually stops and stomps his foot, so Harry relents, saying, “I love you too, Tom.”

It sounded as awkward as it felt but the kid seems placated for now. He is such an odd boy, but with such odd parents, who could blame him?

--

“You have been teaching my son strange things,” Merope says, coldly.

“You mean how to be a decent person?” Harry asks, tilting his head. If Merope's face was frozen before, now it has become statue-Esque.

“I am releasing you from your child-minding duties.”

Though having predicted this moment for the last couple months, Harry feels a multitude of conflicting feelings. On the one hand, he was relieved. How could he not be? This family was fucking weird, with the 10-year-old boy being the weirdest. But... Tom had sort of grown on him. His snobbery, his arrogance, his cruelty... it is so quintessentially him. Sure, the kid was a psychopath in the making but harry felt like with some guidance... with the right person. Perhaps he could be tamed.

Oh well. Looks like it isn't his problem anymore.

“Okay,” he says, and that is when Tom bursts into the room, cheeks red. Harry felt Tom’s magic like someone feels a storm. It was electric, sizzling, ready to strike at any target.

“Harry is not leaving, mother,”

“You'll find I make the decisions here, Thomas.”

“That is not my name!” Tom screams. A glass vase breaks. Merope inhales sharply.

“Control yourself or you will return to the despicable orphanage I found you in.”

Tom is crying. Slowly, carefully telegraphing his every movement, Harry approaches Tom. He puts a hand on his shoulder and Tom melts into him.

“Harry,” he sniffles. “Please, don't go.”

“It’s not up to me.”

“Then, I am going with you.”

“You’re welcome to.” Merope snaps, “I’ll finally get a moment to myself.”

“You cannot be serious.” Harry says coldly. “What kind of mother are you?”

She smiles. “Take him for a day or two. He'll soon realize the luxuries he's taken for granted all this time. Like having breakfast.”

Harry feels himself flushing against his will. He doesn't often care about his state of poverty but to have it so crassly thrown at his face is another question.

He looks down and sees an odd look on Tom’s face. Bloody hell, the poor kid is probably wondering how to retract his prior declaration. Harry decides to save him the trouble.

“I'm leaving. Have a good life, Merope. Goodbye, Tom.”

Tom hurls himself forward, blocking the door. “NO!” he screams, face going bright red. “NO, NO, NO!”

His magic rises and as does the hairs on the back of Harrys neck. This kid... such power at such a young age...

“Tom,” He tries to approach the boy calmly, but his eyes are wild and his posture defensive. He clearly could not tell foe from friend at the moment and Harry had long lost his self-sacrificing spirit. Merope was now lighting up a cigarette.

“Are you serious?” He snaps at her, then wandlessly blows out the light. She glares at him furiously, her own temper rising. Bloody fucking hell. A window shattered, returning his attention to Tom.

“You are not going anywhere, Harry,” Tom says coldly. Gone are the tears and the fury- what's left is the cold resolution of a boy who is going to get his way, one way or another. The magic around them suddenly turned hot and began inflating like a balloon. Harry felt a large pressure sensation and his own magic broke out of his skin, rising to meet Tom’s. Spectacularly, they matched with even power, despite Tom being a child.

To think when he grows up... the amount of power...

Harry closed his eyes.

--

Merope did not stand a chance.

Neither did the house.

--

Tom sniffles into Harrys neck, burrowing closer. “I love you.”

They were stood out on the street, a house turned into rubble behind him, and a boy in his arms. Harry was not old or mature enough to be a father. He could barely look after himself on most days. He forgot meals, left bills to the last possible second.

He kneels, trying to put him down. “Tom. I can't give you what you need.”

“I don't need anything, just you,” Tom says earnestly, suddenly devoid of tears.

“You’ll say that until you get hungry.”

“We won’t go hungry.”

Harry sighs. He can't give Tom to the orphanage. His moral conscience won't let him live with himself if he does. There was never going to be another option. The boy just killed his mum. What would he do to Harry if he tried to leave?

He was effectively trapped in this little bugger's web.

He picks him up and Tom brightens like a sunflower under the sun. “Don’t worry.” Harry reassures him, even though he doubts the kid-adult needs it. “It’s going to be okay.” “It will be,” Tom agrees, “As long as I stay with you.”

Harry doesn’t reply to that- just apparates them to his apartment. Directly into the inside, even though he knows he has a stack of mail waiting for him from the landlady.

Tom looks around in interest. “Is this muggle?”

“Yes,” Replies Harry shortly, putting Tom down. He wonders around his living room, not having much to see. There is barely any decoration- just a worn-looking sofa and some drawers.

“Why don't you live somewhere magical?”

“Merope was right about one thing, Tom. I’m poor as dirt. I work- worked two jobs just to be able to afford this place and eat.”

Tom’s nose scrunches. He perches on the very edge of the sofa. Against his own will, he feels amused at his ill-disguised snobbery. It’s almost cute. He has never even tried to disguise it with the other kids.

“It’s okay, I'll get a job too.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. “No, you need to go to school. Unless you want to fall behind the other kids?”

“I'm a genius, I will never fall behind.”

“Care to test that out?”

Tom scowls. Then, he looks down at his stomach, then up at Harry. “Taking out the house took a lot of energy...”

Harry sighs. “Let me see what I can whip up.”

In the end, he made pasta and it satisfied Tom enough. The boy was used to three-course meals but apparently, he was perfectly content with a decent sized plate of pasta with tomato sauce. Afterwards, Harry tried to put him to sleep but he refused, apparently scared Harry would disappear once he woke up. It was only until Harry agreed to stroke his hair until he fell asleep did he finally acquiesce.

After he falls asleep, Harry takes a moment to observe him. Never is a kid more innocent as when they are asleep. He can almost imagine himself doing a good thing- taking care of this child. He can almost forget that he is the reason why a woman is dead- that it was Tom’s perverse obsession with him that led to all the events of the day occurring.

Harry sighs, getting up and lying down on the sofa.

What even is his life?

--

Tom runs for him after school, with bright eyes. “Harry!” He hugs him round the legs. Harry bends down to pat him on the back and take his bag.

“Had a good day at school?” He asks, perplexed at this chipper mood. Tom is always happy to see him but this excitement, this over-bright joy that's radiating out of him is new. It's like he is acting his age, at long last.

“Oh, it was fine,” He says, clearly dismissively. “Are we going home now? To your house?”

Now Harry is truly perplexed. “Well, sure if you want. Or, we can do something else. Like go to the park?”

“Let’s go home.”

Tom’s eagerness to return to Harry’s dingy apartment brightens Harry's day. He also got his paycheck today so he gets Tom an ice cream – plain vanilla because he is an actual freak.

Tom holds it out for him to try but Harry refuses. He honest-to-god pouts.