Author: The Plot Bunny Whisperer
Tittle: The Paths of Fate: Interlude 1 [Chocolate and Strawberries]
Rating: G
Genre(s): General, Humor
Summary: Harry's mad and Tom wants to make it up to him...
Warning: Umm. Cuteness?
Author's Note: Hope you like your gift. Didn't take much to think up, besides the opportunity was too cute to pass up. By the way, Harry is six and Tom is seven.
:indicates italics:
=
Interlude 1: Chocolate and Strawberries
-
Harry was mad.
Of course, :why: Harry was mad, Tom couldn't, for the life of him, tell you. Although, it must have had something to do with mid-morning snack for Harry only became mad at him after (or possibly during) that time.
So, Tom set out to do the only thing he could think of: find out why his ever-present shadow was mad at him.
And thus he set off.
At first, he didn't have much luck since he didn't know where to start. He may have been a genius, but he was only :seven: for gosh sakes, and besides, what did he know about sulky shadows? :His: had never been sulky before. So he did was any sensible (seven-year-old) person would think of doing. He asked an adult.
"Mrs. Lewskey?" The busy Headmatron of Watercress Orphanage stopped at the soft questioning voice. She turned and blinked in surprise at Tom, whom she had never before witnessed speak up without being forced to. (Or at least, not very often.)
"Yes, Tom?" she asked, smiling and kneeling to his height.
"Harry's mad at me," he said in his usual bluntness. "Why?" Martha Lewskey blinked.
Tragedies of all tragedies: Harry Potter was mad at the person who's breathing air he worshipped. The world was coming to an end.
Well, okay, maybe it wasn't, but it was still pretty alarming.
"Harry's mad at you? Oh dear. Whatever did you do?" Tom frowned at her.
"If I knew I wouldn't be asking." Martha had the dignity to look slightly embarrassed.
"Oh, er, yes. Of course." She straitened up and looked evenly at him. "Well, Tom, if you really want to know why young Harry is mad at you, ask him." Then she strode away to continue doing whatever it was Tom stopped her from doing. Tom scowled at her retreating back and stomped away.
Plan one: Failed.
Well, on to plan two.
-
It was with much reluctance that Tom found himself standing before an irritated copper-headed girl, the only other person Harry really talked two without walking calmly away in tears.
Katherine Fitzpatrick didn't like Tom. And Tom didn't like Katherine Fitzpatrick. It was as simple as that.
After a moment of tense silence, Katherine snapped at him, "Well, what do you want?" Tom scowled and, ever so reluctant, asked her the same question he had asked Martha Lewskey.
Katherine was rolling on the floor in tears before Tom could even ask if she knew why.
"Harry's :mad: at you? Oh, what a day!" Tom scowled fiercely, his usually passive green-scarlet eyes filling with fury.
"Are you going to tell me why, are you not going to tell me why, or do you just not know?" he snapped at her, his patience wearing thin. She smirked at him, clearly enjoying his discomfort. She sat up, stifling a few more snickers - albeit unsuccessfully.
"Of course I know why. But if :you: want to know, you're going to have to ask him." Growling, Tom stomped away, ignoring Katherine's new fit of laughter.
Plan two: Failed. And never going to be tried ever, :ever:, again.
Of course, third time's a charm.
-
All right. Whoever said "third time's a charm" is seriously going to die, Tom thought viciously as he stomped away, yet again from yet another person, this time the orphanage librarian, whom Harry and Tom knew closely seeing as they practically lived and breathed the place.
Why was it they had all said to just ask Harry himself? Did they not even think about the possibility that Harry wouldn't tell him in the first place?
He was stuck in a building of imbeciles.
So, disheartened at his failed quest, Tom sat dejectedly on the back steps of the orphanage, staring at the large sandbox in which a few of the younger kids played.
Why :was: Harry mad at him anyway? Tom didn't forget something important or something, did he? Well, it wasn't his birthday, being the middle of April and all. And there certainly wasn't anything really important that had happened between them during any April of the last five years.
Tom thought back to lunch and the surprise some of the teachers had set together. They made a special lunch for the kids to set off Easter vacation; two whole weeks off from school. The cook had even made his special treat: homemade chocolate-covered homegrown strawberries. Tom loved strawberries, almost more than Harry loved chocolate.
But that wasn't helping him. All he did was eat lunch and savor the treat. Harry was amused watching him, not angry at all. But when Tom joined Harry as they got up to leave the mess hall (but not without grabbing one more chocolate-covered strawberry), Harry had glared at him and walked off.
Wait a minute.
Tom sat up, blinking. Then he slapped his forehead.
Duh!
-
Half an hour later, Tom sheepishly entered the room he shared with Harry, carrying something behind his back. Harry didn't even look up from the book he was reading, opting instead to ignore him. Tom sighed inwardly, feeling Harry's hurt-more-than-anger through their 'bond.' He walked until he stood before Harry and cleared his throat.
Harry didn't look up. Tom sighed outwardly.
"Harry," he tried softly. He was rewarded with an emerald glare. "Harry." Ignored. Sigh. "Harry," he tried for a third time. "I'm sorry." Harry looked up. Tom stared sorrowfully back at him but didn't say anything more, only produced what he was carrying behind his back.
It was a small tea saucer, the blue fading. On it was a single chocolate- covered strawberry. Tom saw a small smile begin on Harry's face.
"I'm sorry," Tom repeated. "Forgive me?" Harry stared at him for a moment before breaking out in a beaming smile and hugging Tom tightly around the neck.
"I forgive you," Harry said, back to his cheery self. Then he gave Tom a look which made him gulp. "But if you ever take another one of my chocolate- covered strawberries again I will hurt you."
--
End
Or Owari
Whatever
Tittle: The Paths of Fate: Interlude 1 [Chocolate and Strawberries]
Rating: G
Genre(s): General, Humor
Summary: Harry's mad and Tom wants to make it up to him...
Warning: Umm. Cuteness?
Author's Note: Hope you like your gift. Didn't take much to think up, besides the opportunity was too cute to pass up. By the way, Harry is six and Tom is seven.
:indicates italics:
=
Interlude 1: Chocolate and Strawberries
-
Harry was mad.
Of course, :why: Harry was mad, Tom couldn't, for the life of him, tell you. Although, it must have had something to do with mid-morning snack for Harry only became mad at him after (or possibly during) that time.
So, Tom set out to do the only thing he could think of: find out why his ever-present shadow was mad at him.
And thus he set off.
At first, he didn't have much luck since he didn't know where to start. He may have been a genius, but he was only :seven: for gosh sakes, and besides, what did he know about sulky shadows? :His: had never been sulky before. So he did was any sensible (seven-year-old) person would think of doing. He asked an adult.
"Mrs. Lewskey?" The busy Headmatron of Watercress Orphanage stopped at the soft questioning voice. She turned and blinked in surprise at Tom, whom she had never before witnessed speak up without being forced to. (Or at least, not very often.)
"Yes, Tom?" she asked, smiling and kneeling to his height.
"Harry's mad at me," he said in his usual bluntness. "Why?" Martha Lewskey blinked.
Tragedies of all tragedies: Harry Potter was mad at the person who's breathing air he worshipped. The world was coming to an end.
Well, okay, maybe it wasn't, but it was still pretty alarming.
"Harry's mad at you? Oh dear. Whatever did you do?" Tom frowned at her.
"If I knew I wouldn't be asking." Martha had the dignity to look slightly embarrassed.
"Oh, er, yes. Of course." She straitened up and looked evenly at him. "Well, Tom, if you really want to know why young Harry is mad at you, ask him." Then she strode away to continue doing whatever it was Tom stopped her from doing. Tom scowled at her retreating back and stomped away.
Plan one: Failed.
Well, on to plan two.
-
It was with much reluctance that Tom found himself standing before an irritated copper-headed girl, the only other person Harry really talked two without walking calmly away in tears.
Katherine Fitzpatrick didn't like Tom. And Tom didn't like Katherine Fitzpatrick. It was as simple as that.
After a moment of tense silence, Katherine snapped at him, "Well, what do you want?" Tom scowled and, ever so reluctant, asked her the same question he had asked Martha Lewskey.
Katherine was rolling on the floor in tears before Tom could even ask if she knew why.
"Harry's :mad: at you? Oh, what a day!" Tom scowled fiercely, his usually passive green-scarlet eyes filling with fury.
"Are you going to tell me why, are you not going to tell me why, or do you just not know?" he snapped at her, his patience wearing thin. She smirked at him, clearly enjoying his discomfort. She sat up, stifling a few more snickers - albeit unsuccessfully.
"Of course I know why. But if :you: want to know, you're going to have to ask him." Growling, Tom stomped away, ignoring Katherine's new fit of laughter.
Plan two: Failed. And never going to be tried ever, :ever:, again.
Of course, third time's a charm.
-
All right. Whoever said "third time's a charm" is seriously going to die, Tom thought viciously as he stomped away, yet again from yet another person, this time the orphanage librarian, whom Harry and Tom knew closely seeing as they practically lived and breathed the place.
Why was it they had all said to just ask Harry himself? Did they not even think about the possibility that Harry wouldn't tell him in the first place?
He was stuck in a building of imbeciles.
So, disheartened at his failed quest, Tom sat dejectedly on the back steps of the orphanage, staring at the large sandbox in which a few of the younger kids played.
Why :was: Harry mad at him anyway? Tom didn't forget something important or something, did he? Well, it wasn't his birthday, being the middle of April and all. And there certainly wasn't anything really important that had happened between them during any April of the last five years.
Tom thought back to lunch and the surprise some of the teachers had set together. They made a special lunch for the kids to set off Easter vacation; two whole weeks off from school. The cook had even made his special treat: homemade chocolate-covered homegrown strawberries. Tom loved strawberries, almost more than Harry loved chocolate.
But that wasn't helping him. All he did was eat lunch and savor the treat. Harry was amused watching him, not angry at all. But when Tom joined Harry as they got up to leave the mess hall (but not without grabbing one more chocolate-covered strawberry), Harry had glared at him and walked off.
Wait a minute.
Tom sat up, blinking. Then he slapped his forehead.
Duh!
-
Half an hour later, Tom sheepishly entered the room he shared with Harry, carrying something behind his back. Harry didn't even look up from the book he was reading, opting instead to ignore him. Tom sighed inwardly, feeling Harry's hurt-more-than-anger through their 'bond.' He walked until he stood before Harry and cleared his throat.
Harry didn't look up. Tom sighed outwardly.
"Harry," he tried softly. He was rewarded with an emerald glare. "Harry." Ignored. Sigh. "Harry," he tried for a third time. "I'm sorry." Harry looked up. Tom stared sorrowfully back at him but didn't say anything more, only produced what he was carrying behind his back.
It was a small tea saucer, the blue fading. On it was a single chocolate- covered strawberry. Tom saw a small smile begin on Harry's face.
"I'm sorry," Tom repeated. "Forgive me?" Harry stared at him for a moment before breaking out in a beaming smile and hugging Tom tightly around the neck.
"I forgive you," Harry said, back to his cheery self. Then he gave Tom a look which made him gulp. "But if you ever take another one of my chocolate- covered strawberries again I will hurt you."
--
End
Or Owari
Whatever