by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer

Disclaimer: I don't own the song and I don't own Harry, though I would love to!

AN: Eh heh. A plotbunny so soon? I blame Eru from Death Note (don't own that either)! #munches on chocolate chips and roasted almonds# No, I don't eat like Eru. XD

I suppose this would come before that first snippet in the Fourth Set of Scraps. XD There's also the very vague possibility that there will be a follow-up to this. This is not a promise and threatening me won't get you anything but a lump of coal for Christmas.

If you haven't heard the Cuppy Cake song, guess what you can do? That's right! YouTube is still up and running. 'The Cuppy Cake' song is a great search and there's even one staring Dumbledore! XD Which has an amusing ending.

#Start!#

Young Tom blinked open his eyes slowly, feeling so utterly warm and safe. Not something he had ever remembered feeling, particularly on waking. Looking up, hands on the arms wrapped around him, he found what made him feel this way. The older boy who he had met yesterday that immediately drew him in and hugged him so wonderfully. This boy - Harry - who didn't know the first thing about him enveloped him in the best hug in the history of hugs because surely not every hug could feel that - that perfect.

It almost made him consider asking to stay forever, but he knew things like that weren't meant for him. This heavenly interlude would end, but the memories would never leave him. He would make sure of that.

You're my hunny bun, sugar plum, pumpy upmy upmy upmkin.

Harry smiled, half-asleep, but still dreaming that he had found the cutest child that ever existed. Wanting to keep this dream, he curled up further, breathing deep. In this state he could almost believe that it wasn't just a dream. The younger boy made him want to protect him from everything. Scoop him up and cuddle him close, always be there no matter what. So easy it would be for him to adopt the kid as family. His smile turned goofy as he nuzzled his pillow close. The pillow squeaked in response.

Wait a minute. Pillows don't squeak. Opening his eyes, Harry peered down at what he was holding.

You're my sweetie pie.

Blinking up at the person holding him, Tom pouted at being made make such an unmanly noise, but he couldn't keep it up with Harry looking down at him so awed. It made him blush.

Harry was the wonderful one. His savior and someone who deserved to be worshipped day and night. Then Harry was smiling again and it was so bright it almost made him squint. Was he really that happy to see him? What had he done to bring such a beautiful expression to his hero's face?

You're my cuppy cake, gumdrop, shyummkums pure,

The child looked as awed by him as he felt by the boy. If he could make anyone feel how he felt right now, then he must be doing something right. 'Tom Wittle', he had said and the Golden Trio had fallen in love with the small boy. Harry hadn't been able to find it in him to want to put the kid down, so he carried the tyke around most of the day, despite becoming quite tired.

Since the moment the headmaster had delivered Tom into his presence, he had felt the need to love on him inexplicably and indefinitely. The will to live returning in a heartbeat after the death of the Dark Lord. He hadn't believed himself worthy to exist after murdering someone - even the Darkest wizard of this past half century. Already he could tell that Tom was quickly becoming the center of his universe.

The apple of my eye!

He was being hugged again. Just like yesterday. It gave him hope, erasing his doubts that Harry would do everything in his power to keep him close.

After all this time only now did he find someone to deliver this to him, what he had wanted for so long.

And I love you so, and I want you to know that I'll always be right here.

The one time they had been separated yesterday had been horrible, the worrying, the longing. He hated it. When they had found each other again, Harry had scooped Tom up into his arms and that's why his arms were so sore even now. He couldn't bring himself to care and it was obvious that the younger boy had appreciated it greatly.

Because of his own experiences, Harry could tell that Tom had not had a very nice childhood and he was set on changing that. Tom would have no reason to be anything but absolutely ecstatic if he had any say at any point of his day.

And I love to sing this song to you

Squirming into slightly different positions, they sighed, utterly content. With little thought to anything (besides that it was Sunday from Harry) they settled in for another nap. The happiest either had ever been.

Because you are so dear!

AN: Have your eyes rotted out of your skull yet? Oh Em Gee! I've done fluff that's not morbid! #sweatdrop#