Tom, with a robe half hazerdly wrapped around himself, through open the door. It was raining, he thought, why on Earth was someone knocking on the door at this time of night? In the rain, no less! Nonetheless, he threw open the door. He didn't want to wake his parents up.

He looked at the figure in front of him. Any thoughts of annoyance quickly died. At his doorstep, in the rain, at almost two thirty at night, was Harry Potter. His hair was a mop against his head, and Tom wondered how Harry could see with all the water on his glasses.

"Can I come in?" Harry's voice was rough. Had he been crying? Tom's suspicions were confirmed when he caught sight of Harry's eyes; red and agitated. He was dressed in his school clothes, as if he didn't have the time beforehand to change.

"Come in through the laundry room. You can shake off there. It's around back." Harry nodded. A minute or so later he knocked on the bad door and Tom answered. Harry shook off some of the water like a dog. Tom removed his robe and held it out to Harry, who took it eagerly. "So," Tom asked while Harry tried drying his glasses, "What happened?"

Harry sighed and put back on his glasses. "God, I was stupid," he laughed but it was without humor. "It's a long story. Could I get a drink first? Preferably something warm? I'm freezing."

Tom nodded and led him to his kitchen. Harry sat at the table while Tom brought out two mugs and began to make hot coco.

Harry said nothing for a moment, sniffled, and then dove into his tale. "It was seven, I believe. And I had just made dinner for Petunia and Vernon, Dudley was at a friend's place. And I just..." he sighed. Tom offered him his mug of hot coco, which he took, and then Tom sat beside him. "I asked something really stupid. I said, 'You guys don't have your knifes anymore,' because I noticed it while cleaning their room. And I said, 'Who did you use them on?' That was a really stupid thing to say. But they start laughing, which I just didn't understand. Why were they laughing? I asked who they killed and they're laughing."

He took a long sip of his drunk. He tried to compose himself, tried not to cry. He shuddered, then continued. "You know what they said? After they were done laughing? They said it was 'pretty fucking obvious,' then laughed more and added, 'considering you're an orphan.' Considering you're an orphan. They killed my parents. And..." he looked ashamed and lowers his head, "And I knew if I didn't leave right then, I'd have murdered them. Both. Even if I only got one free kill, I knew I wouldn't care. So I ran. Chilled around in the park for a few hours. It was almost midnight when... When things went from bad to worse."

Tom got up to get himself another cup of coco. He was pissed at the Dursley's. He had always hated them, because they hated Harry, but this just took the fucked up cake. "There's more?"

Harry nodded. "Isn't there always? Can I get a refill?" He waited for Tom to refill his cup before continuing. "It was around midnight. I was all cried out, but I wasn't ready to go home. I laid down on a bench and slept for maybe half am hour? before I woke up. I saw the stupid fucking Raven. Granger, she..." he angerly wiped at tears, "She was holding my knife and writing shit down in a notebook. I got it back in the end but.. god damnit! She held my fucking knife!" He bit back a sob. Tom's arms engulfed him in a hug, which Harry immediately returned.

After a few minutes Harry pulled back. It took all of Tom's self restraint not to pull him back; he liked being hugged by Harry. "I'm sorry I showed up at such an unruly hour," Harry grinned sheepishly. "I didn't know where else to go."

"It's fine," Tom replied, trying to found smooth, but barely avoiding a stutter in his words. Harry could've gone to anyone, but he chose Tom. It warmed his heart. "Are you tired?" Harry looked it.

"Yeah," he pulled Tom's robe tighter around him. "I haven't gotten any more sleep since the nap. I'm pooped, for lack of better word."

"I think 'tired' would work better, but I get your gist," Harry laughed and Tom grinned at the sound. "All the cushions of the couch are dirty, though. But I'm not sharing a bed with you whole you're soaked. You can have a pair of my clothes, if you want. It's about four hours til we need to get ready for school, but some sleep is better than none."

Harry flushed, though it wasn't noticable in the barely lit kitchen. There was a lot of things in Tom's statement to blush about, and he was blushing over every one. Tom and him sharing a bed? Harry wearing Tom's clothes? His heart hammered in his chest, though he hand no idea why. "S-sure," he said, then cursed himself for stuttering. Why was he so anxious about this? Tom was his friend, it wasn't awkward. He needed somewhere to sleep, that's it. Nothing more. So why did he feel so anxious?

Tom gave him a set of his clothes- a emerald green t-shirt and a silver pair of sweatpants- and showed him his bedroom. Harry didn't pay attention to anything but the bed. Which they'd be sharing. Harry repressed a another unwelcome blush.

They laid side by side, and Harry couldn't help but think that if he was doing this with a future lover, then it'd be incredibly cliche. But that thought seemed absurd! He didn't like Tom. He wouldn't be his future lover. With that in mind, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

With Tom by his side, he slept well.