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So… number 155, right at the back of Diagon Alley.
Harry glanced at Tom nervously, hesitating to open the door to their new flat just yet. He didn’t know what to expect from living with Tom and honestly, he was more than just a little anxious.
“For Merlin’s sake, Harry, get in,” his lover urged – he was never one for standing around pointlessly.
“Yeah, right,” he broke out of his ominous thoughts and took the first step into their new life. Together.
It was… dark and dusty, barely big enough for the two of them to fit all their things in. Nonetheless, it was theirs. After an entire year of Tom working at Borgin and Burkes’ they finally had enough money to move in together right after Harry’s graduation from Hogwarts. It was only one bedroom, a small kitchen and a bathroom but it was better than nothing. They finally had a home, which really meant a lot seeing as they were both orphans. Harry’s “family” – the Dursleys, were horrid muggles and he could proudly say he was glad to be able to finally get out of their clutches. No more doing chores all day.
“Like it?” Tom asked, though Harry knew it was more of a rhetorical question. The place was nasty, to be perfectly honest, but they would make do. A small smile tugged at his lips as he turned to face his lover.
“You know I would even live in a cave, if it was with you,” he said with a grin and gave Tom a quick peck on the lips. “Best start tidying now, so we can get everything set up tonight. That way we won’t have to go back to the Leaky Cauldron and pay for an extra day.”
Tom nodded with an expression as close to a smile as it was going to get. It was always so hard to get him to relax, even if they were alone. Harry knew he was happy though, he did work his ass off for a year to be able to afford a place for them after all.
The place ended up taking a much longer time to clean up than they had initially expected. Harry was in a bad mood, because Tom – the smug bastard who skipped a year ahead in his studies and left him alone at Hogwarts – didn’t know any good cleaning charms. He was supposed to know everything. So once again, Harry was the one tasked with cleaning. The muggle way.
At least there weren’t many boxes to unpack for neither of them had too many possessions. Somehow, Tom had managed to acquire a fair number of dark artefacts throughout his years, but otherwise, his only possessions were his wand, a Hogwarts uniform and very few sets of casual robes. It was pretty much the same for Harry, minus the dark stuff and plus one Firebolt and an extensive maintenance set for it.
It was late into the night when they finished sorting things out to a standard Tom was pleased with.
“We could have just left it for tomorrow,” Harry whined, collapsing onto the freshly made bed with all his dusty clothes still on. He could literally see all the hairs on Tom’s skin stand up as he winced at the sight of it.
“Get off!” he hissed at Harry, pushing him off the bed. They ended up falling over, Harry hitting his head on the bedside table.
“Sorry?” he said sheepishly, but Tom was already checking his head over worriedly.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, combing though Harry’s hair carefully to see if any damage has been done.
“I’m fine, but I’d be better if my lover consented to get off my ribs. He’s a bit heavy for me,” the younger male replied with a grin and they both slowly got up.
Both their robes were covered in dust all over.
“I think we might need to check out the size of our bathtub now,” Harry said into Tom’s ear slyly and began undressing him with a mischievous grin on his face.
*
Harry woke up in the middle of the night, unable to feel his legs. He was absolutely freezing.
“Tom, give me back some of the cover,” he whined, trying to pull it back over himself, to no avail. His lover was wrapped up in the cover like a thick cocoon and wouldn’t budge.
He looked at the clock beside him, it was 5 am. He groaned and got out of bed. Maybe a hot chocolate would warm him up a bit and then he could try to pry the cover off Tom without waking him. Disrupting the Slytherin’s sleep was equal to having a death wish, so he had no desire to do that.
The kitchen was a mess. How had they managed to pile up so many dishes in two days? They had both been busy… Tom was working two shifts each day and Harry was teaching Quidditch at the newly founded Institute for the Education of Young Muggleborns. The brats were incorrigible. They didn’t listen; they had no coordination in their play and no will to learn. It left Harry completely beat each day and doing any housework was the last thing on his mind. Tom usually came back after Harry was asleep so they barely even got to see each other.
He mixed the hot chocolate with milk, his eyes dull and unfocused. He was really tired. If he went back to bed now, he’d be late for work later, since he had to leave at half past 7 to get there on time. The anti-apparition wards around the grounds of the Institute, made it impossible to get there easily.
“Harry?” sounded Tom’s sleepy voice from the bedroom. “What are you doing?”
“I couldn’t sleep because someone stole the whole cover for himself,” Harry glared at his lover accusingly, going back through to their room.
“Well, get in here and go back to sleep. You’re making too much noise in the kitchen,” Tom grumbled. “I can’t sleep when you’re not here.”
Harry froze. He wasn’t sure if he’d heard that correctly. After a minute of contemplation, he smirked to himself. Tom had said it, although he would probably deny it to his dying day. But Harry had heard it and really, he couldn’t even stay mad about waking up from the cold anymore. He climbed back into bed and allowed his lover to drape his arms over him. Delicious warmth spread through his body and he snuggled closer, to feel Tom’s chest rising up and down in calm motions.
*
“Harry, how many times do I have to ask you to do the dishes?” Tom asked with annoyance, ruining his perfect, lazy, late Saturday morning.
“You can do it, you’re better at cleaning spells than me anyway,” Harry whined, turning his face back into the comfy pillow.
“Perhaps, but I, unlike you, work two jobs so we can live somewhat comfortably. I don’t have the time-“ Tom started and Harry groaned.
“I already do all the tidying and the laundry!”
“Yeah, but you also spend more time here.”
“I’m not your bloody housewife, Tom!” Harry huffed and turned away. A few minutes later, he heard Tom slam the door, leaving without saying bye.
“Hmph,” he curled up in the covers, trying to fend off the fast approaching guilt for taking out his frustration on Tom.
His lover didn’t return until really late, when Harry was starting to worry. Tom had a tendency to stir up trouble when he was angry…
Harry spent most of the afternoon pacing around the room nervously and fire calling his friends to ask for advice on what to do. Ron was useless, as always. Emotional range of a teaspoon, as Hermione succinctly stated after hearing what advice he had tried to give Harry.
She was a much better listener for all his worries and said to occupy himself with something until Tom got back, then simply apologise and talk it out.
Harry knew it was reasonable, but… she has never seen Tom when he was angry. He was downright murderous when something didn’t go his way. When he got like that, it was difficult for even Harry to placate him without risk of injury.
He sighed heavily. All he could do now was to sit and wait.
*
Tom’s anger had now been reduced to a slow simmer. He could never really stay angry at Harry for too long. He was on his way back from dishing out some punishment to his misbehaving followers, which, admittedly, helped relieve a lot of his stress.
He… almost felt bad for storming out of their flat in the morning. Harry had been unreasonable, but he had also known that Harry was usually busy with Order meetings outside of work and it stressed him out quite a lot. Being a spy really wasn’t easy. Neither was working two jobs and running an organization of outlaws and murderers, but it was a task he had undertaken knowing he could handle it. Harry wasn’t like him, he couldn’t work so much and be satisfied with it.
Opening the door to their flat, he took a deep breath, trying to push his anger aside.
The smell of curry and wine reached his nose and Tom stilled, noticing that the lights everywhere were turned off, save for a dim, uneven glow from the kitchen. He abandoned his coat at once and rushed in to see what was happening.
Harry sat there, asleep in the chair. The table was laden with a few different dishes, wine and there were dark red candles lit, though they were almost burned out.
He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. His Harry had tidied the whole kitchen so it was spotless, cooked a delicious smelling dinner and waited for him to come back. Even though he had stormed out in the morning; leaving Harry alone for the whole day.
He planted a light kiss on Harry’s lips and watched him wake, blinking confusedly.
“Tom?” he asked in a slightly shaking voice and only then Tom noticed the small, dried up trails of tears on Harry’s cheeks. He wasn’t given time to react, because his younger lover had launched himself at him, wrapping his arms around him tightly.
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Harry said, although it was kind of muffled by Tom’s cloak in which he had buried his face. Tom opened his mouth to reply, but his lover continued. “I thought you got sick of staying with me. I’ve been mean to you because I haven’t been sleeping well and because I never see you anymore, you’re always in a bad mood if I wake you before I go to work and…” Harry paused for a minute, inhaling sharply through his nose. “I’m sorry,” he buried his face even deeper in Tom’s cloak.
“Harry, look at me,” Tom said in a calm, but commanding tone. Harry turned his face up slowly and uncertainly. Tom grasped his chin in his hand and kissed him slowly, soothingly. “I wouldn’t leave you Harry, you know that? You’re all I have,” he said and he meant it. Harry looked a bit hesitant.
“But..”
“No buts, Harry,” he said, kissing him again. “Actually, I had been waiting with this for the right moment, but… Harry, I love you. Would you marry me?” he said, taking out a small box from his cloak pocket.
Harry was speechless. In the box was a white gold engagement ring, with two small rubies sparking at the top. It was beautiful.
“Tom, I… yes, yes! Of course I will!” he choked out after a minute of gaping at the no doubt too expensive ring.
Tom swept him up in his arms and once again kissed him, slipping his tongue in and devouring Harry’s mouth greedily and possessively. When they parted for breath, he slipped the white gold ring onto Harry’s finger.
He didn’t let Harry down right away, despite his fidgeting in Tom's arms, but instead carried him to the bedroom to cheer him up some more and to… celebrate their engagement. He looked down at his lover, who was beaming up at him, happier than Tom had ever seen him before. He smiled back, knowing that right then he was definitely the luckiest man in the world.