The Angel and The Demon [ Tomarry

Doctor's Orders

A/N: yes this is a very unrealistic portrayal of getting an appointment to see a doctor. Especially a specialist. BUT she's a veela specialist, so I honestly wouldn't imagine her to be very busy, so... eh, I do what I want and it's convenient to the plot

"Hey, why are you guys back so soon? Where... are your bags?.. Is everything alright?"

They had Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, still in an embrace. Remus, who had seen them appear, got increasingly worried the longer the two didn't say anything.

Harry stuck his head out to see that his uncle was approaching them, worry clear on his face.

"We're fine," Harry said, after a beat passed. "Just... getting used to being a Veela, I suppose."

"You shouldn't have to worry about that," Tom muttered, obviously still angry. "They're all a bunch of assholes, and I would have taken great pleasure in killing them all."

"Well, thanks for not putting me in that awkward situation, I guess." Harry said sarcastically, before turning back to Remus. "But, yeah, I just got fed up with everyone and couldn't take it anymore so we had to leave. We'll go back another day."

"Oh," Remus said, shoulders drooping. "I understand. If you want, me and Sirius can go get you the rest of your stuff—"

"No," Harry cut him off. "Like I already explained to Tom, I can't stop living my life because of this. I have to get used to it. This is my new normal." He paused. "Actually, I might be able to make it a little better."

Tom let him go, and Harry mourned the loss of the warmth. "How?" Tom asked.

"Ron's sister-in-law is a Veela. Well, quarter. Ginny told me that she used pills or something to block some of the pheromones. So, people will still think I'm attractive, but they won't react... like that guy." Harry scrunched his nose. "I hate the fact that people will think I'm attractive after all of this."

"Not think, know," Tom interjected. "While I hate them recognizing that, it's true."

"Thanks, but you're obligated to tell me that." He looked back at his uncle. "Anyways, we're gonna go back to my room. I need to write that letter."

Harry dragged Tom back to his room, adjusting the door to leave it open three inches. Then, he proceded to fall down onto his bed, bouncing dramatically.

"That trip was for nothing," he sighed, half-serious.

Tom hummed and sat down next to Harry. "Not entirely," he said. "You told me I could—"

"I know," Harry grumbled. "Let's just get that over with now."

He sat up and stared at a wall before summoning his wings, letting them shake for a second before keeping them still and outstretched.

"I don't think it's possible for you to sound less enthused," Tom deadpanned. "I won't do it if you don't want me to."

Harry sighed. "It's not that I don't want you to. It's just that this is new and awkward and what if I don't like it? Or like it too much?"

Tom didn't say anything. Harry looked over his shoulder to see him staring at Harry with furrowed brows. "What? Remember that time when you grabbed my horns and it felt good for me? That's natural."

Harry nodded. Then, it registered. Tom had felt that way, and Harry hadn't judged him, so how could he judge himself? "Oh. Yeah, I guess that's the same thing. Okay." He shook his wings. "Alright, you can groom me."

"Please don't ever say it like that again."

Tom sat down behind Harry on the bed. Harry could practically feel his hand reach out to touch his wings.