Disclaimer: Messrs Potter & Riddle are the intellectual property of JK Rowling. Later on, I intend to sell Riddle's diary; proceeds will be used to purchase at least the aforementioned characters.

This was written for Lillyleaf101, who requested a professor!Harry piece with Tom staying for winter holidays and; "Cuddling keeps you warm, professor."

The press of cold lips to his neck had him waking from his cold-induced recovery nap.

"If you think your... literal lip service is going to save you from losing your house fifteen points, Mr Riddle, you are severely mistaken."

"Repairable damage, sir," A shrug, then a lick up the side of his neck.

"The points, yes, but it will take more than just a perfectly cast spell on your first try and several correct answers given in class for you to get back in my good graces. You left me in the cold without a cloak; heating spells can only do so much against the winter cold." He shifted forward and away from the half embrace he realised he was in, then turned to lay on his back. Green eyes met grey.

Tom Riddle shrugged again, then began to wrap himself around him, long limbs deftly snaking over and under his leg and neck. "I can remedy that, professor." He offered himself up through a kiss.

"Tom—" Harry sighed as the now warmed lips latched onto his Adam's apple. "Like I said, your literal lip service is not going to—"

"You feel like winter," a hand on his thigh, drawing up, up, up, over, around him, then up, down, up, down. "I want to taste you." And taste Tom did, and he could only moan into his fist, still shaking from the cold and then from something else entirely as he was suckled dry of his capability to think.

Through heavy lids he watched himself repeatedly disappear to be ensconced between moist lips, the sensation of being licked, sucked, and swallowed into melting heat battling against the needle-prick sensation left on his body by his lengthy exposure to the ruthless December winds and snowfall. A particularly harsh sweep of soft tongue along the underside of his member had him gasping and arching up and further down an eager, greedy throat.

"Merlin—Tom—! Fucking—Tom!"

He spilled all over Tom's mouth, burning himself on his own cum that gathered on the tongue that massaged him to completion before the thick, hot liquid trickled down the swallowing passage that he had wantonly fucked.

"Come here," he growled, pulling his young lover up by the hair as he rolled to his side. He was rewarded with a moan and a lustful look delivered from under dark lashes. "Fifteen points to Slytherin, Mr Riddle, for a rather ingenious alternative to heating spells." He moved to smudge the smug smile that threatened to appear on Tom's face with a "Still, you have a lot to make up for after pushing and locking me out—"

Only to release a groan as a delectable backside ground against his still sensitive groin, hands pulling at his arm to wrap around the pale body of his young lover.

"I think you'll find that cuddling keeps you warm, professor."

And then he proceeded to forget about being unforgiving as the inviting, puckered, and clenching entrance to scorching summer heat pressed against the head of his once-more rigid member.

If this is what Tom Riddle intended to do with him during his stay at Hogwarts every winter holiday, he would gladly get pushed into three feet of snow again and again.