Harry Potter, Maid-sama!

After Harry kissed Tom’s thumb in the last chapter, Tom’s visits to the cafe only increased. Now, instead of twice a week, he came three or four times a week. Harry felt a little guilty that he was spending a lot of his own money, so he very magnanimously gave Tom a discount - and if Katrina noticed, she didn’t seem to mind because business was booming.

Tom seemed more excited to see Harry - more alive, almost, Harry noticed. It was as if seeing Harry was the highlight of his day - and that flattered Harry as much as it made him...uncomfortable, somehow. Harry was sure that working at Borgin and Burkes wasn’t fun at all, with the dingy, creepy shop and its equally dingy and creepy owner. And the way Tom would light up whenever he would see Harry… he wasn’t faking his feelings. They were real.

The only thing is: were Harry’s feelings real? Tune in next week to find out!

Just kidding! Harry was sure that not all of his feelings were faked. Of course, he still harbored resentment towards Tom for the two horcruxes he created, and those he’d murdered to create them. But in his attempt to honey trap Tom, he had started catching feelings of his own. He was growing...fond towards the Slytherin, and of course, the physical attraction was undeniable. Tom was hot, single, and ready to mingle. But was it worth getting it on with a future Dark Lord? Just how desperate was Harry? Well, he was going to find out, sooner or later…

____

There was no denying it - Tom was attracted to Harry.

But just how deep that attraction was...he didn’t know.

Of course, Tom was physically attracted to Harry. Harry and his lithe, thin body, his big emerald eyes and his plush, full lips - it was no wonder he’d almost mistaken him as a girl. A fact that Burke seemed to be convinced of, for some reason. Even in those stupid frilly maid uniforms, Harry looked good . Maybe too good. He was so pretty, so innocent-looking in those dresses, and Tom didn’t want anything more than to press him against a wall, trail his hands up and down that petite body and make Harry blush and squirm and moan for him -

Ahem. Well. Okay - he was physically attracted to Harry. The truth is, since Tom broke up with Abraxas, he hadn’t slept with anyone. And Tom was getting...pent up, so to speak. He needed a release, and what better release existed than Harry in his ridiculous, adorable costumes?

But there was something deeper, too - and not just the boy’s spirited, feisty personality. Tom felt something when he was near the boy. It was the identical feeling he had towards his own horcruxes, oddly enough, like his soul was calling to Harry. Tom had felt it strongest whenever Harry touched him. Like that first time he’d touched Tom so tenderly, bandaging his thumb and then kissing the tip… Tom had felt his soul almost sing towards Harry, and… and he hadn’t the faintest idea why.

And so. That is also what prompted Tom’s more frequent visits to the maid cafe. He had to get closer to Harry...he had to touch him...and he had to figure out why he felt his soul calling when he did.

The bell jingled above the door as Tom entered, and he stopped dead in his tracks. 

“What. Are. You. Wearing? ” 

“Oh, hey Riddle,” Harry said, holding a little mini-notepad. “What would you like to order?”

“You…” Tom felt like he was having an aneurysm. “You’re wearing...a miniskirt?”

It was like the world was coming to an end. Time was standing still. Because Harry was wearing a miniskirt like the models in lewd girly magazines were wearing. And when I say it was short, I mean short . The light pink skirt barely covered the bottom of Harry’s ass...and when Harry turned around, Tom could see the outline of his hot pink underwear, peeking out from underneath… he inhaled deeply, trying to think of something to kill his boner. Something to kill his boner... Anything ...oh. Professor Dumbledore. Now that was Tom’s go-to softener. He felt his erection disappearing instantly. Okay. This was fine. Everything was fine. He could do this.

Tom inhaled deeply, trying to act unaffected. “Why...are you wearing that unholy thing?”

Harry merely shrugged. “Katrina’s latest design,” he explained. He pointed at the promotional posters, declaring this day ‘Mini-Day’. “Everything is ‘mini’ sized at the cafe today. All the pastries, the drinks, and even our skirts, I guess.”

“...Right.” Tom tried to avoid looking at the offending miniskirt by straying his gaze up Harry’s figure before stopping.

Because along with a miniskirt, Harry was wearing a crop top . The crop top black sweater left his midriff exposed, and it was cut low, exposing the younger boy’s collar bones...a studded black leather collar was wrapped around his neck…

In this moment, Harry didn’t look ridiculous, or even cute. He was downright sexy.

“Hey,” Harry giggled, waving his hand in front of Tom’s face, “You’re...zoning out again.”

Tom’s throat felt unnaturally dry. No one had ever made him feel this out of his element. Usually Tom was the hot, sexy one, sweeping girls and boys off their feet. He’d never felt as if someone was sweeping him off his feet...until now.

“Are you gonna order anything or just stare at me?” Harry snapped, and Tom came back to reality.

“Um. Tea. And...strawberry shortcake,” he tacked on.

Seeing Harry turn around and walk towards the counter in that miniskirt, the curve of his ass clearly visible...seeing his hips swish side to side...these garments should be downright illegal, Tom thought to himself. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away. He sat robotically down in the nearest empty table and waited for Harry to return.

“Here you go,” Harry said a few minutes later, plopping a tray down on the table in front of Tom. On the tray was a miniature cup of tea and a miniature strawberry shortcake.

Tom scowled. “Wait, do these cost the same as a normal-sized tea and strawberry shortcake?”

“Yep,” Harry answered. He grinned. “It’s Katrina’s ingenious idea to profit off of selling smaller portions for the same prices. It’s working well, don’t you think?”

And Harry was right. The cafe was swarming with eager customers, excited to see the maids in their miniskirts. 

“Your boss has...questionable business practices,” Tom settled for saying, sipping his tiny cup of tea. 

Harry snorted. “Hey, you’re the Slytherin here.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, mostly just listening to the hubbub around the cafe while Tom sipped his tea and Harry ate the strawberry on the top of the strawberry shortcake.

Then, Tom’s curiosity finally caught up with him. “Harry,” he began, searching the other boy’s eyes, “When you...touched me. That day. Did you...feel something?” Because he had to know if Harry felt it too, if Harry felt like something had tugged at his soul -

“Er...with your thumb?”

“Yes. Did you feel something?”

Harry shrugged, looking as if he genuinely didn’t know. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember. What do you mean?”

“Like...like…” Tom struggled to put his feelings into words. “Like something was pulling at you...from the inside?”

Then, Harry did the strangest thing.

He blushed.

“Oh...yeah,” he murmured. “But it wasn’t when I kissed your thumb. It was before...when we shared a milkshake and you were touching my lip…” As if on instinct, he bit his lower lip. 

“Really? ” Tom hissed, leaning forward, cup of tea forgotten. Because...if Harry had felt it too, did that mean...their souls were…

Connected?

But that was impossible! That was the kind of stuff muggles made up! Admittedly, soul magic had not been explored much by the wizarding world, as it was taboo...but Tom was determined to find out.

“We need to test it out again,” Tom insisted. He beckoned with his hand. “Come over here.”

Looking a little reluctant, Harry stood to his feet and walked over to where Tom sat, like two steps away.

Tom gingerly reached out for Harry’s left hand and intertwined their fingers. Yes, he felt it, softly...a pulsation, a slight rush …

“Oh dear,” Harry squeaked, “but...he’s...off-limits…”

“What’s this ‘off limits’ that you keep going on about?” Tom huffed. “Anyways, that’s not important.” He patted his own thighs. “Come. Sit down.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Sit on your lap? ” he whisper-screeched, “In front of everyone?!”

“No one’s looking,” Tom said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, now.”

With a bunch of grumbling that sounded a lot like ‘doing this for the greater good’ and ‘he’s still off-limits’, Harry complied. He swung a leg over Tom’s thighs and sat down, effectively straddling him. 

Tom felt as if he couldn’t breathe, with Harry pressed up against him so close...Harry tentatively placed his hands on Tom’s chest, and sitting like this, pressed up to Tom’s chest, and Harry’s firm ass against his thighs...Harry’s skirt had ridden up a little higher, and Tom ran his hand along the younger boy’s thigh-highs and frilly garters. Harry’s breath hitched, and he looked up into Tom’s eyes, and suddenly it was like they were the only two people in the entire cafe...Tom just idly touched him, running his hands up and down Harry’s thighs, watching Harry look up at him expectantly, biting his lips....and that pull between them sparked, just so... so irresistibly.

It wasn’t enough. Tom wanted to touch more, he needed to touch more… he reached up and teased the hem of Harry’s crop top, tracing lines in the soft skin there. Harry gasped and arched up against him...it was too much. Too much, but still not enough...with his other hand, Tom reached down and snaked his fingers under Harry’s miniskirt, finally giving into his desire and giving Harry’s ass a firm squeeze. His fingers curled around Harry’s underwear, and Tom really should’ve seen this coming, but -

Slap!

“Tom, you pervert! ” Harry cried indignantly, standing up and smoothening his skirt, red-faced and breathless.

It was only as Tom stared at Harry walking away, stunned, nursing the new bruise on his face (Harry sure knew how to deliver a harsh slap), that he realized something.

He no longer was just ‘Riddle’. Harry had called him ‘Tom’ for the very first time.