The Angel and The Demon [ Tomarry

Birds Of A Feather

"Fair enough," Tom sighed. "But the whole 'already graduated' thing won't work until you stop swinging our hands."

Harry looked down and saw that yes, he had started swinging his and Tom's hands back and forth.

He looked up, smugly. "You want me to stop?"

Tom blinked, before looking straight ahead. "Yes."

Immediately, Harry's mouth tasted a sourness that caused him to recoil for a moment before pure glee overtook him.

"You like being a sap in public!" Harry accused, pointing a finger of his not preoccupied hand at his boyfriend. "Don't try and lie to me, Riddle, I see right through it! Er, well, taste right through it. We can do it back at Hogwarts too, it would really show the others. Matching t-shirts next? Oh, or maybe matching socks? Or—"

Before Harry could finish his long-winded monologue, Tom turned, put a hand on his shoulder, and connected their lips in a deep kiss.

At first, Harry tensed— woah, that was random— before he relaxed in the kiss, grabbing onto Tom's arms.

He forgot where they were until Tom broke away.

"Will you stop talking now?" Tom whispered.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do," Harry whispered back. It didn't dawn on him that he had said that until it was already said, and his face flushed.

Tom's eyes widened and Harry could see his ears redden. "I— yeah— Merlin, I love you," he said, reaching out and kissing Harry's cheek. "Let's go."

As Tom tugged him towards Gringotts, a still flustered Harry glanced at their connected hands.

"Can I swing our hands?"

"Harry."

"I choose to take that as a yes."

—

Gringotts was stunning. Well, it always was, if Harry were being honest. Except this time it wasn't filled with annoying eleven year olds, so it was so much more beautiful.

If not problematic.

"Y'know, considering Wizarding orphanages and orphanages in general are overcrowded with children and they have little to no funding, you would think the Wizarding World wouldn't spend all their money on a bank," Harry complained.

Tom nodded. "As an orphan, I've always been so annoyed with that. Have you seen pictures of Vatican City? Why does a pope need all that gold? Why can't they just donate? For people bragging about being so generous and giving, they're really just pretentious pricks who use money as a way to not only make themselves feel good, but also as a way to show their social standing."

"Maybe I'll turn into Robin Hood," Harry said. "Except I'm not a fox."

"What— Harry," Tom started, "Robin Hood isn't just the protagonist of a Disney movie."

Harry blinked. He actually didn't know that. "Uh, yeah, duh. I just wanted to tell you I wasn't a fox... y'know, just in case you were confused."

It was obvious that Tom could see through Harry's white lie, but he must have decided not to say anything. Harry sighed in relief.

The approached the main desk in the bank, the same dark mahogany wood but slightly taller than the rest. A goblin was already there, looking down at something on the desk.