I just re-read your assumed Muggle roommate Harry with Tom at Wools Orphanage, and I had a random scene burst to life in my mind.:
Tom, during a cold, rainy night, wakes to Harry putting their blankets on top of each other, telling him to move over so he can join. "Layers create more heat, Riddle!" and when his magic tries to burn Harry alive, all it does is make Harry warmer, so the other boy looks smug, "See? We warm now." and just....rolls over and falls asleep with Tom wondering what's wrong with his magic.
Harry stopped to sniff at some wild weeds and moved to the side just as three pot plants landed where he was standing. It would have killed him. Everyone gasped, knowing it was Tom, but Harry was waving their worries away. "He's like clear across the courtyard, Mrs. Cole. How can it be Riddle?". Tom had moved them with his magic.
Tom is trying to drown Harry, but the other boy is just laughing. "I'll wash your hair after this, too, Tom! Thanks for checking for lice for me."
Just Tom trying his best to hurt this idiot, who is too stupid or too lucky. The rest of the orphanage is just confused about how Harry is not only surviving Riddle, but he's straight up thriving. Last week, Harry convinced the local shopkeeper to hire him part-time, and he used that money to buy Tom some new shoes for his birthday. Tom threw them at him, and Harry acted like it was game of dodgeball.
He was doing this on purpose, Tom knew.
He wasn’t entirely sure how Evans was able to so succinctly counter everything Tom had thrown his way - but he knew the little prick was unflinchingly aware of what was happening.
The knowing smiles and pointed looks said all the other boy refused to.
Tom might have even enjoyed the unexpected challenge his roommate posed, if not for the positively ditzy display the other put on for the crowd.
It was grating and irritating and Tom wanted to erase him from his sight and memory. Permanently.
He had the perfect opportunity today too, out here on the annual trip away from the orphanage. Years ago, they would go to the beach, but ever since Tom had had his fun there, Mrs. Cole had switched locations to a park much closer to the city.
Much closer to the hospitals.
It had been annoying at first, as Tom had loved the beach and the cave, but he had learned to appreciate the crisp air and dense trees that surrounded this little pocket of London.
There were plenty of places to hide, plenty of shadows to cover his movements, and - most importantly - plenty of snakes.
Now if only he could find Evans and get this over with.
Such a shame, he imagined saying already, his expression contrite and sorrowful, that Evans fell into that snake pit.
I tried to help, Tom would tell Mrs. Cole, despite knowing the woman would see right through him, but there were so many and they bit him so fast.
There was no way Evans would survive so many deadly strikes in such quick succession. And Tom would go get help, of course he would, but first he’d enjoy the show and watch as the light faded from those arresting green eyes. Once he was sure Evans was gone, he would stumble back out of the brush and put on his performance, and then go to sleep in his blissfully empty room.
It was foolproof.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
The words were whispered against the shell of his ear, and Tom would deny it even under torture that he shrieked at the sudden appearance.
He whipped around, and Evans stood there, grinning at him with a delightfully mean sparkle in his eyes.
Tom hadn’t even sensed him approach.
