(Tomarry - HP/TR) Burnt Ice Cream

Part VIII

The next time Harry saw Tom the other boy expressed his disappointment that the book had left no bruise on Harry's face.

"You didn't throw it hard enough to bruise, Tom." Harry replied, flashing Tom a toothy grin. Tom scowled, and Harry laughed at the sight.

"Anyone ever tell you that you looked like a miffed kitten when you do that?"

Tom narrowed his eyes at Harry. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," Harry rebuked, shaking his head. He dragged over a spare decking chair, the plastic squeaking over the stone and pulled it to a stop by Tom. He sat down, sighing, flexing his fingers which were sore from writing out the parlour's inventory.

"Tom?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"Do you want to grab dinner with me sometime?"

Tom span round to look at him, eyebrows shooting up. "Say that again."

Harry fidgeted, feeling uncomfortable. "I asked if you ever wanted to have dinner. With me."

"Are you asking me out, Potter?" Tom asked, torn between laughing and balking at the idea.

Harry hesitated. "Not really… I mean, my parents have invited you over so - "

"How do your parents know about me?" Tom interrupted, and Harry smiled weakly.

"We have a close relationship! I just talk a lot at dinner time and you've come up once or twice…"

Tom rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I'll never understand you, Potter."

Harry nodded, readily confirming Tom's statement. "That's the way it should be! It would be no fun if you knew everything about me, Tom."

He tilted his head, eyeing Tom speculatively. "You haven't answered my question."

"What, if I'll join you and your parents for dinner? No thanks."

Harry frowned. "It'll be rude to refuse, Tom. If you don't go, I'll - I'll…"

"You'll what?" Tom sneered, "Leave me alone?"

Harry shook his head, mischief lighting up his eyes. "No - I won't bring you any more ice cream."

"You wouldn't," Tom warned, growing serious. Harry smiled, laughter pulling the ends of his lips upwards.

"Oh, I would," he teased, slinging an arm around Tom's shoulders and leaning against the other boy. He raised his mouth to the boy's ear and whispered. "Then you'll have to start paying for your ice cream."

Tom shrugged him off, glaring. "Stop flirting with me, Potter."

Harry gaped. "F-flirting?! I don't flirt."

Tom raised an eyebrow, and he pulled at Harry's wrists, bringing them into his lap and watched as Harry's cheeks grew redder. "Yes, you do."

"No, no – that's just me being friendly. You wouldn't know anything about that, though, seeing as you don't have friends."

"Right." Tom let go of Harry's wrists, standing up briskly and headed back into the shop. Harry scrambled to his feet, pushing in front of Tom and barring him from the shop's doorway.

"I didn't mean it like that! I'm sorry, Tom, you just need to understand - "

"I don't need to understand anything. You meant what you said."

Harry was quiet, eyes drooping to look down at Tom's chest and his shoes scuffed anxiously across the stone slabs. "I've never seen you be friendly to anyone, Tom. Can you honestly say that you have friends? A friend? Someone you can confide in, someone who makes you laugh? Smile? Someone who you don't mind spending time with?"

When Harry finally looked back up at Tom, his face was blank and motionless, a complete void. "I'm perfectly fine, Potter," he said, his voice monotonous and robotic.

"What?"

Steely blue eyes looked down at Harry, hard and unyielding. "Isn't that what you wanted? To know if something was 'wrong'?" Tom laughed bitterly, shoving past Harry. "You have your answer. Now leave me alone."

Harry stood alone in the doorway, watching as Tom's back disappeared into the shop. If nothing else, he was more determined to help Tom. Hermione would put it up to his 'saving people' complex, but all Harry could think of was the dark expression wrought across Tom's face as he stormed away.