Can you write a Ficlet of Tom trying to figure out if Harry is going to give him Valentine's chocolate?
(Sorry, this is the other way around! I read your ask wrong 😂❤️)
“Alright, honest opinions,” Harry said as he took a seat at the Gryffindor table. His friends had already long since arrived. It was growing close to the end of dinnertime. The platters of food running down the table were only moderately filled instead of overflowing and only Ron was still finishing off his dinner.
Before Harry could clarify the topic, Hermione looked up from a book she was thumbing through and said, “Your handwriting could do with improvement.”
“I’ve always thought you favored the right side of the pitch when you play,” Ron offered through a bite of ham. “The Slytherins are going to take advantage of it one day.”
Harry paused for a moment, fork hovering over one of the platters. “You think so? I should– Wait, I had a reason for this conversation. It wasn’t quidditch.”
“I can honestly say a great friend,” Neville said, proving that he was one of the good ones. Then he added, “You’re going to fail Herbology if you don’t spend more time in the greenhouses. I watered your project yesterday to keep it from dying.”
With a groan, Harry sought comfort in food. “Anyone else have something they’ve always wanted to say?”
Ginny turned around from her conversation with Dean to say, “You’re gay.”
“I’m bi,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes. “I’m just… bi in Tom Riddle’s direction. Which gets me back to my original question: honest opinions, do you think he’s going to get me Valentine’s day chocolates?”
Harry was met with his friends’ sympathetic and disbelieving expressions.
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Ron began, “…but Riddle hates you.”
Hermione shook her head. “He doesn’t hate him. Does he even know who Harry is?”
Harry considered drowning himself in the gravy bowl. Morosely, he said, “We have a special connection. He said thank you to me when I passed his paper to him when Flitwick gave me his paper instead. It was an Outstanding. Like his face, which is entirely outstanding.”
He received entirely too much disbelief from his friends and not enough support. It was terrible, really.
A few days later, as Valentine’s Day drew ever closer, Harry tried to get another opinion. “What if he’s secretly pining for me? And he’s realized that now that it’s our seventh year, this is the last opportunity he has to make a move?”
Dean scratched the back of his head. “Uh, I don’t know. He seems like a dick. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
Desperately, Harry turned to magic to aid him in his quest for the answer. The day before the big day, Harry stayed after class to ask one of his professors for help. It was something he rarely did, preferring to figure things out himself or leave his grades to chance, but these were desperate times. Thankfully, the professor agreed to help him.
“Hmm,” Trelawney said, hunched over Harry’s tea leaves. He’d slurped down a too strong cup of tea for this very purpose. She waved her hand over the cup, then stared at it some more, blinking one eye after the other. “Your future is quite clear to me, Mr. Potter. You will be a great quidditch star.”
“Brilliant, but what about Tom?”
Trelawney smiled. “He has a bright future that one. He’ll be minister of magic one day, you mark my words. I’ve seen it.”
No information on whether Tom would become minister with Harry by his side was incoming. Harry left his impromptu career session with a heavy heart, wondering if he should give into the fact that everyone was convinced Tom wasn’t interested in him. For all that he knew, their connection could be all in his mind.
The next morning, Harry had convinced himself that he would survive not receiving Valentine’s Day chocolates from Tom, as he had survived receiving Ginny’s embarrassing poem five years ago.
The last thing he expected was to watch Tom enter the Great Hall and make a detour to the Gryffindor table. Harry braced himself to see Tom visit someone else, but instead Tom placed a box of chocolates in front of Harry.
And was that a blush on Tom’s cheeks?
Without even uttering a word, Tom stomped back to the Slytherin table.
There was no world in which Harry wouldn’t follow him, chocolates clutched in his hand and delight in his heart.
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