I'll remain with she has her uses
Upon his hurried knock and entrance, Harry's frantic apology on running late disappeared at the sight which greeted him. Apparently, either Tom had figured out a way to bypass the alarm tied to the bed or Madam Pomfrey had removed it. Considering where Tom was currently at in the sectioned off area, Harry was going to go with the second. Mrs. Weasley was a force not to be trifled with, he thought wryly.
Nor was her daughter.
Shoving that from his head, Harry quietly closed the door and sat, as to not disturb.
"I am aware of my surroundings," Tom commented from behind the book he read. Harry blinked in surprise. Tom had appeared as absorbed as Hermione in digesting a book. If without the talking to himself in response to what he was reading like Hermione often did. Tom turned a page from the bottom corner. "And it is none too difficult to draw information I wish to know from Mrs. Weasley."
Yep. Mrs. Weasley. Not to be trifled with.
Harry eyed the window back in place, wondering exactly how Mrs. Weasley talked Professor McGonagall into that. The window ledge Tom had fitted himself up onto, lounging, bedside table pushed up next to him and stacked with a pile of books. And clearly, Tom was soaking up the sunlight beaming through. His long white button up shirt and sweater were shoved up above his elbows, the rolled up slacks were pushed up to his knees, although his bare feet remained tucked into a pair of plain oxfords. Apparently, to Harry's bafflement and amusement, Tom was a little weird about his feet.
Also he had gotten strange at seeing his nose. Well, more precisely, the lack of. Same in being able to see the top of his head and take in how it looked with no hair. The tone of his muscles had to be up there as well. Late night ventures had become longer and Tom doing something with his dislike of the state of the castle, physically moving rubble not yet taken care of into piles off to the side.
In what else Tom was doing to as to 'work with' his suddenly not a teenager body… Well. It had been an interesting few days of Harry gathering up clothing options from people for Tom to go through. The older Hogwarts uniform had gone dismissed by him. As well, Harry couldn't really argue against Tom's words with that one, even if he thought the familiarity made it a decent option to start with.
'Do I look like a Hogwarts student?'
With that, both the older uniform and one of Ron's uniforms were tossed out as options. Denim jeans were disliked on texture and roughness, being tossed out as well. Any shirts with bright colors? Tossed.
Although, that tie-dye shirt had gotten such a visual reaction of disgust, it had been worth it to bring.
Quite a few plain white t-shirts were kept to sleep in, as well as a few grey sweatpants. Older clothes were more to Tom's liking. Not too much of a surprise there really. But there were not as many of the ones Harry found with green to them picked out by Tom to keep. Most of the chosen clothing were black, white, or variant shades of grey. There was a jacket with dark green lining, a pale pastel green button down, a sweater with blue diamonds across it, two green ties, a maroon one, and a blue bow tie. That was it for anything containing color.
Today was nothing of color.
"She is…useful," Tom mused to himself.
"Useful?"
Upset at the word chosen, Harry gaped at Tom, gripping tightly to the underside of the chair. Useful? That was the word Tom used to describe Mrs. Weasley? Useful?
Although, not really untrue at Tom having freedom to roam this sectioned off area and a window returned and books at his disposal. Those were all likely to Mrs. Weasley. Who it seemed, had visited earlier today, before Harry was able to make it here.
"Mrs. Weasley is, is," Harry fumbled for a moment. "More than useful. She's kind and warm and protective. She's a great mother."
Tom hummed, a finger tapping at the edge of the book. "True. But I am not wrong."
Not wrong? Then Harry caught sight of an empty container resting next to the pile of books. Empty. After Tom had refused to eat anything else from Mrs. Weasley's visit a few days ago. And Harry recognized the residue on the container from here. She'd brought Tom fudge.
"She likes you. She made you fudge. And…"
Harry slowed.
"She likes you," Tom corrected dryly. "I am merely…connected to you. That is all."
Right. Tom was not really used to that, was he? Harry and Ron had meet on the train, had been sorted to the same house, had sat near each other in class, and had become friends. But Harry, from back then, could not understand why Ron wanted to be his friend. Harry liked Ron, but didn't get that Ron could like him. Chalked it up to fascination of him being the Boy-Who-Lived. And yet, over time spent together, friends. Tom was a bit similar to Harry. Or at least, that's what Harry thought. And so…
"You like her."
Tom liked her. He didn't want to admit it, either out loud or to himself. Or at least, he liked Mrs. Weasley more than her first visit if the state of the cleaned out container was a sign. Or Tom just really liked fudge.
"If you say so," Tom demurred. "I'll remain with she has her uses."
Or Tom only thought her useful in gaining bits of freedom.
Harry rubbed at his temples. Figuring out Tom was…was difficult. But Harry thought and wanted to think it was going in a good direction. Seeing as Tom had yet to really do anything against him or Madam Pomfrey. Or Mrs. Weasley. Upset? Sure. But overall, Harry thought it was going okay.
Still. It had been a really long night last night. And morning.
Closing the book, Tom set it back onto the pile near him, turned and propped his head up with a hand. And peered straight at Harry. Taken aback at the studying gaze, Harry lowered his fingers rubbing at his temples, blinking at him. Then Tom seemed to steel up.
"You are late due to visiting your godson."
Harry leaned back in the chair. "Er, right."
Tom's dark brown eyes did not waver.
Frowning, Harry attempted to work out what the issue was in his head. For a second. It had been a long morning with a very awake Teddy. And there was only so long Harry wanted to struggle in understanding Tom's actions and emotions. Guarded? Defensive? Was that it? Why? What was he waiting to hear? Harry huffed out loudly, bypassing the entire guessing and wondering game with Tom.
"What?" It came out snippy and exhausted. He threw his hands up in the air, frustrated as Tom's face and gaze changed not one iota at him. Harry rose from his seat, hands waving about, words bursting out from him.
"What is with that look? Do I need to give you a head's up when I visit Andromeda and Teddy before you in case he's fussy and pink haired and wide awake and I wind up staying longer again? Usually he's sleeping. I visit them on Sunday mornings by the way," Harry snarked out. His feet shifted back, turning to face Tom straight on, glowering. "Or is it that you—"
Harry cut himself off at seeing Tom's hand raised up, a gesture for a halt. He sucked in a breath, jaw jutting out at his loss of control, scowling at Tom. The area above Tom's left eye wrinkled slightly. As though raising an eyebrow. Had Tom still had eyebrows.
"Interesting," Tom mused.
Tired, Harry rubbed at his face. "What?"
Tom settled back up against the window. "I'll deduce the obvious and say the earlier visit did not go well."
Why did Tom sound smug about that? Harry squinted at Tom, trying to suss out through face and actions if he heard the sound of Tom's voice right. Or if it was him being tired and fed up. Because Teddy's visit had pushed the limits of what had been a very long night.
Someone from the Daily Prophet had managed to spot him. A thick post had been delivered from Neville from several in D.A. looking into the political mess and suggestions as to how to handle certain matters in the aftermath. There had been noted remarks over Malfoy which matched the few times Harry had run into him the last year and Harry definitely felt he needed to think about how he was going to deal with that particular trial, but hadn't yet gotten around to or sorted out how yet. He had ended up having a…conversation with Ginny. Which had not gone over superbly well despite, or because, of George's words about Tom. Rolling into a general lack of sleep from nightmares…
The peace and usual quiet of visiting Teddy had been a reprieve Harry hurried there for, only to wind up with none of that. And the pink hair. That really got to Harry. Upset him more than he wanted to say. Seeing Teddy with pink hair. Pink hair. It pushed on the limits that had been his past sixteen or so hours. Since he left from visiting Tom yesterday.
And then back visiting Tom today.
"Work for it."
Startled out of his headache of being overwhelmed and sleep deprivation, Harry drew his head back up at Tom's words, blinking at him.
Tom's shoulders shifted back, head tilting, gazing a challenge across the room at Harry, and placing his feet solidly onto the floor under his impromptu window seat. "I'd prefer it. I'll admit amusement to either way, but I prefer you work for it. Now, Harry. Andromeda?"
Harry blinked, standing there. And stated dumbly, "She's Teddy's grandmother."
Dark brown eyes stayed steady on Harry, waiting, patiently. Andromeda was Teddy's grandmother. That was obvious. What more did Tom want? Was Tom asking for more about Andromeda? Taking an interest in other people in Harry's life? He'd not given much mind…much mind before…
It dawned, the light flickering on above Harry's head. And he scrambled inside his head for a moment. Searching and drawing up a blank.
"Wait. I never… I've never mentioned… Huh. I guess that kind of makes sense," Harry murmured to himself. While other names had cropped up in stories and explanations, he had never brought up Teddy before. Because, well, Teddy was only a child. A baby. Someone to keep protected. And Harry was his godfather. And Tom was, had been, well… It made sense.
Tom knew about Teddy. Now.
Kind of a concern there for Harry.
But what was the issue with Tom about this?
Harry's head hurt.
"You catch on fast." Tom paused, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "For a Gryffindor."
It took Harry a moment to react to that. "Hey." He stepped forward, hand held up against that. "I've had a very long night and morning."
Tom's head turned to the side, chin tilting up out toward the window. And continued as though Harry said nothing. "Who likely was never considered for Ravenclaw."
And with a swivel and spin, Tom was up and at Harry's side, then behind. Harry's hand scrambled belatedly, turning to gape, cursing in his head as he stared at Tom. Triumphant Tom.
Holly wand in hand.
Raised up between them.
Bloody—
Tom's eye twitched. Then swiveled again, made a break for the door, whipped it open. And ran for it.
Alarms blaring and Harry tearing off after him.