The Boy Who Bitched

Chapter 22

Tom had woken up the next morning long before Harry, eager to show him the nursery. He'd been working on it for weeks, having house elves and such assemble the luxury baby items. Truth be told Harry and Tom had been gifted more than they needed, but Tom being the interior design diva that he was, did not like the idea of a mismatched nursery. He had donated all of the gifts to various orphanages and wizarding families in need, so none of it was to go to waste. He then went through baby book catalogs that he had transfigured to look like normal books so Harry was none the wiser, as he carefully weighed his choices. Everything was now perfectly ready.

Harry stirred slightly, but he quickly fell back asleep. A small part of Tom was disappointed, wanting so eagerly to share the fruits of his labor, but the other knew the boy so desperately needed this sleep and he was grateful the sleeping draught was lasting as long as it had.

He sat in the silence for a while, thinking about the current date. His birthday was coming up soon, he was unsure if Harry knew, or if he should even bother to bring it up. He was never fond of birthday's, they brought on a lot of stress, especially when he was still mortal. However with Harry being his last horcrux and also immortal there was no need to worry anymore. They were both safe, and anyone that was a threat to them had been handled. It was still so strange, he was turning 73 but his appearance was that of a 30 year old. 73 candles on a cake seemed almost joke worthy. He decided he'd leave it be, whatever happened on his birthday would be fine with him, celebration or not.

He must of been back and forth in his mind for a while, but he was quickly snapped out of it by Harry dashing out of the bed. He hadn't seen the boy move that quickly in a while. He was quick behind him, but Harry was quicker and slammed the door behind him. Tom went to open it, but Harry was quick to push it back. "Just give me a minute please," Harry said his voice sounding frustrated.

This immediately concerned Tom," Harry what's wrong please don't make me force my way in."

He then went to open the door again, but he was met with a loud "GO AWAY," he ignored it and quickly stepped in.

Harry turned around, hiding himself from Tom, but it was too late Tom had seen what Harry was so desperate to hide. He had accidentally wet himself. "This is so embarrassing," Harry started crying, attempting to quickly rub the falling tears away.

"Oh Harry it happens, Colette warned you about this. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Let's get you cleaned up," Tom was so gentle and ever so grateful that this was something so minor.

He still had nightmares of finding Harry covered in blood in this very bathroom, unsure if the boy was going to make it, realizing how much he did truly care for the boy. Harry continued to cry, drops silently rolling down his face and he used his sleeve to rub them away. Tom started the shower and then helped Harry out his clothes. He then walked out to call a house elf to clean the bed clothes and then another to set out a tray for breakfast in the sitting room.

When he came back to the bathroom the glass door was fogged up, Harry had his back turned, letting the warm water soak into his joints. Tom drew a messy heart and quickly drew H + T in the middle before gently tapping on the glass to gain Harry's attention. The boy swung around confused and after squinting quite hard his face pinned up into a goofy smile, he then drew a heart back to Tom. His was quite a bit sloppier, even when he didn't intend to it seemed that everything Tom did was perfect. Harry wondered if there was anything the Dark Lord was even mediocre at, forget him being bad at something, except maybe Quidditch which he likely found to be barbaric.

He hadn't thought about Quidditch in so long, his time on the field zooming through the air feeling like a distant fever dream. He wondered if after having Hadrian if his flying days would be over, they certainly didn't have to be. He wondered if Hadrian would get into flying, and how Tom would react if he showed an interest in Quidditch. He swung open the shower door and reached for the lavishly soft white towel, wrapping it around his waist. Tom offered his hand, and Harry took it, struggling to steady himself with his center of gravity being so shifted. He changed as quickly as he could, struggling to put a clean pair of pants on before waddling out of the bathroom, Tom leading him towards the sitting room.