The ABC's of Loving You [ Tomarry

Mischief

Mischief;
playful misbehaviour or troublemaking, especially in children.

—

Harry and Tom fuck shit up.

There is a mention of attempted rape. This is a trigger warning. This mentions the use of a date rape (amortentia), but the victim didn't drink it. There will be an indication when the warning begins and ends.

AU where Harry grew up with Tom in the 1940's. This doesn't take into account the Fantastic Beasts franchise.

POV is third person omniscient, but focuses more on Harry

Underage sex! The youngest they'll be is fifteen, which is't too young, but it's still underage

There's a reference to Chamber of Desire, another one of my stories, but if you haven't read it (read it, it's good! This is self-promotion!) this story won't confuse you

* means parseltongue

—

Even from birth, it was obvious Tom and Harry weren't like the other children.

Tom was a few months older than Harry, and was in the orphanage for much longer than the other. His mother had died there, her last wish being that he was named after his father and grandfather, before she died in childbirth, and the orphanage took him in.

He never got along with the other children. He never acted like a baby, either. Tom never cried, never fussed, and always seemed to communicate with the nurses when he needed a change of diaper or a feeding. He never played with the others, and seemed to hiss whenever someone came close.

About a year after Tom had been born, a baby was found on the steps of the orphanage. He was five months old, wrapped in a dark red blanket, with a peculiar shade of emerald green eyes. When the nurses picked him up, they saw a note attached to his wrist:

'His name is Harry James Potter'.

The note wasn't signed, and no one knew who's baby it was, and so little Harry was taken in by the orphanage. The last baby taken in was Tom, and so Harry's crib was placed next to the one year old.

What followed next baffled every caretaker.

Tom, who had usually been cold to the other babies, was now playing with Harry. They always crawled to each other when it was playtime and Tom refused to cooperate if he didn't see Harry around.

So, it was only natural that when they were old enough Tom and Harry shared a room.

—

"Rise and shine, boys! It's your turn to help out in the kitchen for breakfast!"

Harry sighed unhappily when the matron's voice resonated in their tiny bedroom. Harry had been up late last night, reading with Tom, and they had completely forgotten about their chores. All the seven year old wanted to do was sleep.

"I don't know why they have us doing breakfast," Tom said, snidely, from the other side of the room. "It's not like we're allowed to do much other than wash and cut the fruits."

"Maybe today we'll get lucky and they'll let us break the eggs," Harry joked, prompting a snort from his roommate. "Do we have to get up?"

Tom sighed, and Harry heard his bed creak, meaning he was sitting up. "Unfortunately. Now get up, it will be less insufferable if you're there with me."

"Of course, your majesty," Harry said, moving to sit up too.

The newly turned eight year old on the other side of the room was now getting out of bed and moving to their tiny shared closet.