Harry had Potions the morning after he came out to Hogwarts, and seeing as it was shared with primarily Slytherins, Harry was slightly worried about the reaction he'd get. Out of all the Houses in Hogwarts, he assumed that Slytherin would be the least accepting.
It wasn't as much stereotyping as it was statistics. Slytherin was made up of mostly purebloods, and purebloods were usually less open to change and were more conservative. Besides, Harry was a Gryffindor, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was infamous. Now they had something new to jab at him with. So, chances were, Harry'd get more shit from them.
Oh well, Harry thought to himself. He was used to being harassed by the Slytherins in his Potions class. It wasn't like anything would be new.
As Harry walked through the corridors, he got some strange looks— but he wasn't sure whether it was because they knew he was gay, or because of how he came out. If he were being honest, the way he publicly came out wasn't normal in the slightest, so he couldn't blame people for being curious.
There were only five people in the classroom when Harry walked in, so he quietly slipped into his seat and took out his Potions textbook. Reaching into his pocket, he took out his quill and started to twirl it in his fingers.
He almost dropped it when Tom sat next to him.
Why was he sitting next to Harry? Usually he sat a row behind him with Hermione, and Harry sat with Ron.
A nagging voice in the back of Harry's head said that he was going to make fun of Harry because of last night. But the part of Harry that knew Tom protested, so he wasn't too sure what was happening.
"Good morning," Tom greeted, sliding his book onto the table. "How are you?"
Harry greeted him. "Pretty good, how are you?"
Tom shrugged. "I'm good. I just asked because of what happened last night."
His face flushed. Of course that's what he wanted to talk about. Harry couldn't blame him.
"No one's said anything about it yet, so I'm just acting like it didn't happen until I get asked about it." Harry looked at him through his lashes. "What did you think?"
Tom paused and let his eyes roam Harry's face. "I thought it was very brave of you," he said. "I'd never be able to come out like that."
Harry's mouth went dry. Did that mean...
"Hang on," Harry said. "You're..?"
Instead of saying anything, Tom plucked the quill out of Harry's hand and ran his finger over the feathers. "So very soft," he murmured.
"I got it from Diagon Alley," Harry answered softly, watching with dilated pupils as Tom moved the quill forward to caress Harry's cheek. It tickled, but Harry was too focused on what was happening.
Tom smirked, and Harry's eyes were drawn to the motion. It was almost as though he was in a trance— everything was hot, and Tom looked so hot, and in a few seconds Harry was sure the tension would make him jump the other.
"That wasn't what I was talking about," Tom said, letting the quill's feathers brush against Harry's lips.
Harry started leaning in, feeling a gravitational pull that he couldn't pull out of, not that he wanted to.
As they got closer, the doors to the Potions classroom swung open, and Snape walked in, his cape flowing behind him.
The trance was broken, and both wizards fell back into their chairs, back in the world of the living.
Harry was shocked, his face still flushing a bright red. What had just happened? It was almost like... Harry had to kiss Tom. He just had to. And he was so close.
Tom was acting very strangely, and Harry didn't know why. But if he kept acting that way... Merlin, Harry wouldn't be able to help himself. The man was so attractive, and Harry had the biggest crush on him, and here Tom was, acting like that.
But Harry didn't want to act without knowing everything. What if he had leaned in and kissed Tom, but Tom didn't like him back? What if Harry was just reading into the situation too deeply because of how much he loved the other?
As he was stuck in his thoughts, Harry felt a touch on his hand. Confused, he looked down and saw Tom's hand, still clutching Harry's quill, making its way into his own.
Harry's ears started ringing. Soft.
Tom leaned in, breath warming Harry's ear. "Here you go," he simply said, letting the quill drop into Harry's hand. Then, he leaned back and turned his attention back to the professor.
The Gryffindor was very confused, and at that moment, he wasn't sure what to do. His face was on fire, his entire body was stiff (yes, entire body), and he was nervously staring straight ahead.
Tom was making advances on him. It had to be, there was no way to deny it now. He could have just laid the quill on the desk, but instead Tom practically held Harry's hand trying to give it back to him.
Merlin, his heart was beating so fast.
In his head, Harry knew he should do something to show Tom that he was interested too. Still, there was a small voice in the back of his head that told him that maybe that wasn't the best idea.
'Shut up, Harry James Potter! You're a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake. If you want something, grab its balls and make it your own! Well, not here, but later. You literally got up in front of the entire school yesterday and blurted out your sexuality! Get your man, Harry, don't suddenly be a coward,' the voice in his head said.
The voice kind of sounded like Ginny, Ron's younger sister. It was somewhat surprising, but Ginny had low tolerance for bullshit and always called Ron out on the things he's done wrong, so Harry guessed that was why.
Quietly, he shuffled his seat closer to Tom, so that their seats were nearly touching.
There, he thought smugly. Enough of a move so that Tom should get the hint, but also subtle so that it's not too harsh of a move. Perfect.
He felt Tom's eyes on the side of his face, but Harry ignored the temptation to look over and kept his eyes trained to the front of the room, feigning nonchalance.
It didn't occur to him how he never payed attention to Snape, so this couldn't be nonchalant.
While Harry was staring straight ahead, Tom scooted his chair in closer to Harry too, causing their arms to rest against each other.
Harry felt a sigh of relief leave his lungs. It felt so good to have contact with Tom, as strange as it sounded. The heat seeped through like a warm hug, and Harry just wanted to envelop himself into the other's arms. Yet it also felt like a cool glass of water during a hot summer's day. It was perfect.
He wondered what he should do as his next move. There was resting his head against Tom's shoulder, but that seemed like a moment that was far too romantic for the current moment. There was holding hands, but that may take a while and Harry feared it was too soon. He—
"Harry? Snape's letting us work on our potions now."
Jostled out of his thought, Harry looked up and saw Tom looming over him with a fond smile on his lips.
Harry's face heated up for the tenth time that day. He must have looked like an idiot.
"Oh, sorry, I must have zoned out," he apologized. "Thanks for telling me."
Tom hummed, still with a smile, and took out his wand. It was fourteen inches, and Harry had heard about a rather inappropriate rumour about what wand size meant for another body part, the bigger the wand the bigger the— but, for the sake of getting through class alive, Harry quickly shifted the thought to his subconscious.
Instead, he watched as Tom summoned both his and Harry's cauldrons, along with the ingredients. Harry thanked him, and used his own wand to flip to the page with the Amortentia ingredients list.
When Tom saw what was inside Harry's cauldron, he frowned. "What step are you on?" He asked.
"Um... I need to start at step sixteen today, why?"
Immediately, Tom picked up his knife. "Then I'll do step sixteen sixteen and you can get to work on step seventeen."
What?
Harry laughed, nervously. "Tom, you don't have to help me. If Snape catches us, not only will I get detention, but you will too. Can't get that reputation tarnished," he joked. But there was a sense of seriousness in it, too. Didn't Tom have to work on his own potion?
"I'm on step twenty-seven on my own potion," Tom informed, eyes trained on the textbook, probably reading step sixteen. "I'm well ahead and you're slightly behind. I'll help you catch up and professor Snape will be none the wiser."
Harry debated on whether to argue or not, but he knew how stubborn Tom could be. Also, he'd be lying if he said he didn't need a little help.
Let alone how pleasing it was to have Tom help him out.
He smiled. "Thank you, then. I really appreciate it."
Tom smiled at him, which Harry took as a 'you're welcome', and so Harry got to reading step seventeen, which was all about asphodel roots.
"Harry?" Tom asked.
"Hmm?"
"There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, and I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me?"
Harry's eyes widened. His eyes moved from the textbook to the boy sitting next to him, who seemed to be feigning confidence but was internally freaking out.
Was... was Tom asking him out on a date?
Did that mean he's Tom's mate?
"Yes!" Harry nearly screamed, causing some people to turn heads. He coughed. "I mean, uh, yeah, I think I can fit that into my schedule."
Tom smiled. "Great," he said. "I can't wait."
—
The night before...
"C'mon, Tom, you got this!"
Currently, Tom was in front of his mirror, hyping himself up to ask Harry out on a date tomorrow. It was at times like these where Tom was truly grateful he had a room to himself.
"You know he's gay, so everything you were worried about?It means nothing. Even if he doesn't like you right now, seduce him tomorrow and get that date."
He smirked in the mirror. He's got this.