The Angel and The Demon [ Tomarry

Moony and Padfoot

A/N: I gave myself a cavity writing all the fluff in this and I regret nothing.
Is the title too much of a giveaway? Oops

The next morning, Harry woke up in the morning in the arms of his boyfriend under the silk sheets in their shared room in The Leaky Cauldron.

At first, he thought he was the first awake— he was too groggy to really notice anything. All he knew was that they were both cuddling together, warm. Humming to himself, Harry slowly worked up the motivation to move slightly so that he could tuck his face into the underside of Tom's neck, pressing a tiny kiss there. He happily closed his eyes again, fully intending to fall back asleep.

"Shh, darling, don't go back to sleep," was whispered softly in his ear. "It's already noon."

Harry cracked an eye open. It was then that he noticed that the arms that were wrapped around his back had been moving, caressing him softly.

He lifted his head out of the crook of Tom's neck, gazing at his boyfriend and smiling brightly. Tom looked so good when he first woke up in the morning— hair tussled, sleep warm and soft. Well, he looked good all the time, but... where was Harry going with this again?

"Good morning," Harry whispered, staring into Tom's eyes.

The hands moving along Harry's back had stopped very, very low. "Good morning," Tom hummed back, voice low. "Sleep well?"

"I slept perfectly," Harry basically purred, leaning in to kiss the top of Tom's nose. "You?"

Tom chuckled and resumed his stroking of Harry's back. "I slept with you right next to me. It was one of the best night's sleep I've ever had."

Harry felt this heartbeat flutter with the compliment, and he was sure his face reddened dramatically. Fuck, what a charmer. Even after months of dating, Tom made him feel like their relationship was still new.

Smiling, Harry leaned in to press a kiss to Tom's lips, but stopped halfway when the light suddenly hit his eyes and the strain on his muscles became too much. Instead of the kiss he had wanted, he fell forward into Tom's chest and closed his eyes.

"Did I not just say it was noon?" Tom said, sounding amused. "Let's get up and walk through Diagon Alley. I would like to get more quills, mine mysteriously went missing."

He said 'mysteriously' because Harry liked to steal Tom's quills whenever Harry lost his own. Tom knew about this. Harry knew that Tom knew. Would that stop him? No.

The thought of getting up out of bed caused Harry to get a migraine. "No," he said.

"...Harry. It's noon."

"And?"

"And? Everyone's awake!

"Not everyone. I'm not. I don't see how that effects me."

Tom huffed, but even in Harry's sleepy mind, he knew that he was only huffing out of mock-annoyance. He went to get up but Harry, who could already sense that his lover was leaving him, latched onto the other with a newfound sense of strength.

There was a sudden natural urge that Harry was feeling, telling him to make sure that Tom never left him. Ever. Usually Harry could fight it off, but he must have been too tired.

It seemed that Tom caught on that something was awry. "Sweetheart? What's wrong?"

"Don't leave me," was all Harry said.

"Uh— I won't?"

"Don't leave me."

"Uh... huh. What day is it?"