let me go, hold me close

Sleep is elusive. 

The thought of Tom sleeping in the room beside him, just a wall between them, was one that wouldn't leave him.

He didn't know what to think about it. 

His brain kept fearing Tom would kill his parents if he fell asleep. He really didn't know what to say about this connection that wouldn't cease. 

He knew Tom. There was no way Tom was going to kill his parents. Yet. It wouldn't leave him. He didn't know what to do about it. 

He lay awake, his thoughts circling....

A scuffle outside his door. His wand is instantly in his hand, even as he hears that soft, familiar voice, "Harry?" outside his door. 

Tom?

Making sure Harry was asleep before he killed him?

"Tom, come in", as he waves the wards away. 

"I couldn't sleep." Barely audible, even in the quiet.

He sits up, his lamp automatically turning brighter. 

"What is it, Tom?" it's not like he can sleep either. And atleast this way, that thought was kept at bay by his very sight. 

"I" Tom stops. He looks towards the window, unwilling to continue. 

"Come here", he says instead, moving over to create more space for Tom to sit beside him. Tom just looks at him as if this was Divination and Harry was the bottom of his empty cup. 

"Did something happen?" And now he is worried. What had happened in the last hour or so?

Tom is still looking at him, but he takes this as his cue to heed Harry's earlier words, coming to sit beside him on the bed. 

"No" is all he says. Harry is getting more worried. "Whatever it is, you can tell me." 

He needs to know, his mind is frantic. His heart a thumping mess. 

No words come. What comes is Tom moving closer to Harry, so their arms touch. Harry slides his arm around Tom. 

"What is it?" The words are whispered softly. Tom looks down, he cannot decide his answer, it seems.

"You...when you...in the Dorms at Hogwarts", he starts, and Harry doesn't really know what to think.

"....you warded my bed on the second day." A pause. Harry does remember this, yes. "I did" he agrees.

Tom is still looking down, "The magic, your Magic", he corrects, "it helps me sleep." 

A long pause, he says nothing else. Harry doesn't know what to say either. Yes, his brain did understand the words but he's not really even in his own body. Tom Riddle was lulled to sleep by his safety wards. 

The thought is overwhelming. He pulls Tom closer to himself. "I can ward this bed the same way, if you'd like." He feels a nod against his side. He starts to turn to get up, but Tom stills beside him, so he does too. 

"Will they really?" and he doesn't need to elucidate any further. 

"Yes Tom. Before your birthday, actually." Tom finally looks up at him, a sudden jolting movement. Harry lightly laughs at that face.

"Did you think I wouldn't know your birthday? That I wouldn't find out? Professor Slughorn was more than happy to help out Lily Evans' son. Who is himself a potions prodigy." Yeah right, but he had asked Slughorn anyway, no need to leave any witnesses. 

"They don't know, so, there won't be a party or anything. Or there can be! I haven't told them because I wanted it to be your day! If you want a party, we can have one. Or go out somewhere! Or both!" Half curved towards Tom now. 

"I've never had a birthday party", Tom's voice is even toned, expressionless.

"A party it is. Is there someone special you'd like to invite?" Perhaps there is.

"You", Tom's words are a smile. Harry laughs, "Thank you very much for the invitation, Tom." 

"Harry" Another pause. "Yes?"

"Can I stay with you for just a little longer?" And Harry has not the heart to say no to anything. "Yes."

He slides himself back, pulling Tom down beside him. The boy lies on his shoulder. 

"Try to get some sleep, Tom, we have to wake up early tomorrow." "Why?"

"We have to attend the Ministry Yule Ball tomorrow evening, and you're coming with, but there is a lot to do. Many presents to open." He smiles and brushes Tom's hair off his face. "Goodnight Tom." 

"Goodnight Harry, Merry Christmas." The words are a whisper. "Merry Christmas Tom." And he waves the lamps back to dim.

He feels Tom's breaths slow against him, and his own body calming in turn. The earlier intruding thought is fully gone, with this now intimate knowledge of Tom's whereabouts. 

And finally, he breathes in the boy who was his best friend in this life. All past thoughts are gone. The doubts, forgotten. This Tom wouldn't hurt Harry or his Family. Ever. In fact, Tom was His Family, and Harry was definitely his too. 

As he feels himself drift, he remembers the words he had whispered to the boy earlier. 

"I love you", they fall easy again, a whisper. He cannot help himself.

He knows the boy is asleep, and he considers carrying him back for just a second, before the excuses-against rear their head and he gives in.

Closes his eyes.

Harry. 

(I love you)

Thoughts of the boy have him restless once more, as he hasn't been since those first few weeks of meeting. 

Harry had circled every crevice in the gray matter then, before he had relented, before Tom's brain had relented. 

And now, it was the same all over again. 

Thoughts of the day overtake him once more. 

The room. Merlin, the room. His room. 

The thought is an impossibility and yet it stands, stark, clear. True. Reality. 

And it is not just a room for him. It's His Room. Almost a replica of His Harry's room. Of Their Room. 

Tom is overwhelmed once more, his eyes taking in every angle and decor and shade. (I)

He hasn't forgotten about his sleek, shiny new broom, either. (Love)

Or the small paper with the names. (You)

His parents. Harry had found them for him. Would find them! Would demand answers for Tom!

He had been saving all his real reactions for when he would be left alone, but now....

Now that he had been left alone, with another kiss on the head, a kiss Tom had wanted to feel again for many months, he was left in an echo of days spent with Harry. And those words. 

And the future he would spend with Harry. 

(I love you, it echoes)

Except he doesn't know how the future would go. 

New worries now intermingle with the thoughts, a storm brewing.

And Tom.

Tom doesn't even have that ocean to feel against him. To soothe himself, however much he hates to admit to needing any support. 

But Harry, Harry who loved him, had provided support unasked. Without even a hint, he had given Tom things he had wanted and things he didn't know he could want. Given Tom what he had needed but knew not to ask. Given what Tom didnt know how to ask for. He gave and gave and gave.

Warm sweaters and scarves, a silky soft robe that was two sizes too big, yet Tom loved to envelop himself in it in the privacy of his bed. 

Warm conversations by a roaring fire. Full of curiosity and joy and understanding and love. Plates full of food and shoulders free of any baggage. Both figuratively and literally for that last one.

He wants to stay close to Harry. Has to stay close. 

Harry, who is just beside him, in the other room.

Tom could ask him once again for that ocean, if he so wished. He just doesn't know how. Without asking directly. Without explaining his reasons. 

No, he decides against it. He will force himself to sleep without. He would be twelve in a few days, he needed to learn this independence!

The thoughts are back, flashes to the events of the day. To James and Lily Potter, and how they said they would become Tom's guardians. If his family had abandoned him, but Tom already knows they had. 

Would they? 

The thought is a new echo. 

He had made them and their friends presents, had spent time and effort, to ensure they would continue being as amicable and friendly. 

And yet (I love you, we love you, you're easy to love), it still echoes. 

The events of today will not relent. And nothing helps. 

His earlier solution circles back.

Perhaps he should. He needed this put to rest.

A decision.

He gets up, his feet silent on the thick carpet. This was his Harry after all.

He reaches the closed door. "Harry?" He hopes the boy is still up. 

"Tom, come in." That familiar voice becons.

"I couldn't sleep." It's the only truth that leaves him easily. The rest is much harder.

"What is it, Tom?", and this, he doesn't know how to answer. 

Should he just be upfront? Tell Harry everything? 

"I", it is all he can manage, before he is unable. How was he supposed to explain himself without feeling like a fool. This bed needed no protection after all. 

He sees Harry move in his peripheral, breaking the silence.

"Come here" and the words....he doesn't know what to do. He turns to look at Harry, wondering about that damn intuition again. 

How on Earth did Harry read his mind? How did he know Tom wanted to be close to that ocean again?

And yet, he cannot move, his mind still stuck on words that escape him. How could he tell Harry what he wanted to say? What he needed to say!

"Did something happen?" The real Harry demands his attention. Yes something has happened and no nothing has happened. He has no answer. 

He chooses to take Harry up on his earlier offer, that want to be closer coursing through him, even as the anxiety over his next words never ceases.

The ocean is a soothing lullaby, as always. His brain slows down just a bit, his shoulders loosen.

Harry. 

Tom would never tire of him! A promise.

"No" he replies and the word is true. Nothing had happened, he was just going crazy. Too many thoughts and ideas and futures had him overwhelmed.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me." 

And a part of that 'whatever' is that need to be closer, so he makes his own interpretation. He moves himself closer, fully on the bed now, black fuzzy socks a stark contrast to the white sheets. 

Harry reads his mind, as always, and tucks Tom under his arm in the way Tom loves. Has loved from the day it happened, when Harry showed him the Room. 

"What is it?" He almost doesn't hear it, even in the quiet stillness that surrounds them. 

He needs to say it. Now, while Harry was being so insistent. Now, after he had disturbed Harry's sleep. Now, while he wasn't totally hesitant.

"You" nope, that is not what he wanted to say. 

"When you", no, he needs to skip any talk about Harry. 

Focus only on the thing. The thing.... Harry's Magic. Nevermind, he needs to get this out!

"...in the Dorms at Hogwarts", he hopes Harry remembers, "you warded my bed on the second day." 

"I did", Harry remembers, this would be easier then. 

"The magic, your Magic", one more sentence and it would be over. Harry's intuition would help, "it helps me sleep." 

There, it was over! 

But then, Harry says nothing. Does nothing. He is stone around Tom.

Stone that pulls him even closer after a minute. Then, they are one, the ocean envelops him fully. 

Tom wants to stay here, forever. With Harry. Forever. Harry, who loves him, who said he did, many times over today. 

And Tom loved Harry too. He just couldn't tell Harry as loudly. Or as many times. 

Maybe, one day. 

Harry who, as always, reads Tom minds and grants inner wishes. "I can ward this bed the same way, if you'd like." And Tom feels whatever was left of his hesitation fade.

This was Harry, after all. His Harry, who gave Tom things. Who listened to whatever Tom had to say, always a yes, never a no. Harry who loved him. Who he loved.

His family. A thought that has built up to a prominent space in his brain. His Harry.

And yet, that thought brings about another. Another full of hesitation and expectation and hope.

"Will they really?" and Harry answers in an instant, "Yes Tom. Before your birthday, actually."

His birthday? How did Harry know?

(He hadn't told Harry, as Harry hardly needed any excuse to buy Tom more presents. And Tom already felt a bit inadequate, even as Harry only made Tom feel deserving!)

He looks at Harry, how?

Harry only laughs. "Did you think I wouldn't know your birthday? That I wouldn't find out? Professor Slughorn was more than happy to help out Lily Evans' son. Who is himself a potions prodigy", and Tom can't believe he just went and asked his Head of House. And yet, it made sense. 

But that Harry would do it, that he would be curious enough, it overwhelms Tom in a different way. In the way Harry always makes him feel overwhelmed, with joy. With excitement. With discovery. With love. 

Yes, Harry is his Family, and he is the Best Family Tom could have asked for in all the six names he remembers. None had cared for Tom as Harry had, and none were as deserving of him as Harry was. And unlike them, he would never abandon Harry, his Harry. His family. He would keep Harry and cherish him. Love him, as he himself was loved in turn. 

He focuses back to Harry who is now talking about a possible party for Tom's birthday, if that was what Tom wanted. Honesty finds him again, as it does so often with Harry. 

"I've never had a birthday party" he doesn't know what to expect as a response, but what comes is all Harry. 

"A party it is. Is there someone special you'd like to invite?" An absurd question, yet it is so Harry, it is delightful! And it deserved an equal response, the seriousness matched. 

"You", he decides. Always you. Only you. 

Harry.

Who just laughs, "Thank you very much for the invitation, Tom."

He would understand, Tom thinks, one day. 

Tom would make him his Queen. Or even his King. Whatever Harry wanted. 

(An absurd question did deserve an equally absurd thought in response!)

Harry was His, and one day he would understand!

(And he was Harry's, but that thought has marinated a long time, it is already accepted as normal)

He gathers his courage, his thoughts strengthening his resolve further. "Harry." And yet, what if he was refused. 

"Yes?" And yet, his Harry denied him nothing. 

"Can I stay with you for just a little longer?"

And the answer is the easy acceptance he has always known. In fact, it is more. Instead of talking anymore, Harry pulls Tom down beside him, his arm holding Tom against his heart. 

"Try to get some sleep, Tom, we have to wake up early tomorrow."

This is the second time he had stressed on this topic. "Why?" He has to ask. 

"We have to attend the Ministry Yule Ball tomorrow evening, and you're coming with, but there is a lot to do. Many presents to open."

A ball? Tom doesn't really know what to think of that, or of the presents, and Harry doesn't let him either. 

He reaches with his other hand, brushing his fingers lightly through Tom's hair. "Goodnight Tom." 

"Goodnight Harry, Merry Christmas."

The arm pulls him even closer. " Merry Christmas Tom" a whisper. 

The lights dim, and then it's just him and Harry. Harry who is closer to him than ever. Tom doesn't know what to think. 

Even though this is new in particular, Harry is never far away, and yet, this is a singular experience. Had anyone ever attempted to touch Tom as Harry (or his family) had, they would have felt as much pain as Tom could provide. And even then, he would plan for more. 

Three boys had tried it last month, to upturn his bag, to trip him as he walked, to disturb his person as he tried to use the showers in the Dungeons.

He had directed a strengthened stinging hex behind six retinas and they had sung for him with their screams, writhing on the ground. As musical then,  as it had been at the orphanage. It was one of the first real spells he had learned and started practicing seriously. Wandlessly.

A perfectly placed stinging hex was worse than just a sting after all. And that it was pure Magic and didn't leave a mark was all the better. 

After, he had held their eyelids open as he told them they had tripped and hurt themselves. 

And then used James favourite spell, Levicorpus, to let them hang for the thirty minutes or so it took him to shower, before he let them fall into a heap on the tiles. 

And then he had left. If they did want to talk to someone about it, they would have to explain themselves first. This was the first year section of the bathrooms after all. 

Harry breaks him out of his thoughts with those words again, whispered into the quiet. 

"I love you", Tom lets those words echo through him as he finally falls asleep.

The next day, and the days after that go by much the same. 

Tom has a million new things he now owns, yet his favorite is his cloak to match Harry's. It had started to become more of a tight fit in just one, after all. And Sirius had really lived up to the words Harry used to describe him. All of them did.

And yet, they were all the same really, echoes of his Harry. Harry's attention, his generosity, his love. 

The days are filled with celebrations and joy and cheer and new things given to Tom without hesitation.

The Potters had also visited Wools to inform them of Tom lodgings until they figured out his guardianship, which was turning out to be quite the problem. Wools though, that had been a quick visit, only thirty minutes before they apparated back into the foyer. 

Quick and easy, Lily had called it. Tom was still unsure, and yet, he now had a room to come back to in the Summer.

Filled with Magical toys and knick-nacks he had received that would stay there collecting dust until summer. Summer!

And his birthday....Merlin, what a birthday it had been. 

A giant three tiered chocolate cake almost as tall as Tom himself! Covered in strawberries and flowers. A sight. His. For him.

James had laughed at his face, before he had just picked Tom up! And set him on the table beside the cake! And Sirius had turned the flash on, capturing that moment forever!

He had even hid a copy of that for himself, ridiculous as it looked. Sitting, the cake reached quite a few inches above him. Absolutely ridiculous.

He had almost burst with joy.

He had never imagined this, and yet Harry had given it to him.

And now, he had more than he had even imagined possible. James Potter and Sirius Black had given him 500 galleons each for his birthday. It was enough money to buy a house, in both worlds. A tiny, half-decent house, but still. It was a small treasure!

Especially for the boy who had only recieved 9 Galleons, 18 Sickles and 27 Knuts as his Hogwarts Fund. And the meager Muggle money he had been able to hide. Some 39 pounds and 8 shillings.

There hadn't been enough left after school necessities to buy a single Chocolate Frog.

And now, now he could probably buy whatever he wanted and yet he didn't have want of a single thing.

Everything he wanted he now owned, and it was all new. Harry had slowly replaced everything Tom had and didn't have with things Harry had given him. 

And Harry was hesitant! Hesitant, to give Tom more. When Tom wanted everything! He wanted every single minute Harry could give him and then another day. Another year. Another decade. (What does Tom even know of decades. Yet he still wants!)

And then, that Ball, on Christmas Day. When Harry had let him discover something new he liked, being held by Harry. Wrapping himself around Harry's back, secure with a sticking charm when his feet hurt from hours of standing and some dancing, and then, feeling Harry's arms under his knees and back as Harry carried him up the stairs and into bed as Tom's eyes struggled to stay open.

But also, Harry's birthday gift to him was equally as special, a tiny bottle filled with golden liquid that Harry had worked on with Lily's help, Felix Felicis. Liquid luck. 

And really, Tom didn't know what to do with such a gift at all. He had met Harry without such a potion, how much luckier could he get?

Luckily, it didn't have a shelf life, and Tom had left it in His Room. (That thought still rouses excitement and disbelief!) And it would wait for him until summer. And even longer. 

His thoughts come to a halt as he feels the train stop, hears the piercing shrill of the whistle that almost hurts his eardrums as it passes through and echoes. 

He watches Harry shrink their luggage into his pocket before he holds the door open for Tom as always. 

"Ready?" He asks, and if it's with him, Tom is ready for anything! "Yes"