In the 23rd of March of his first year, while priveting into a corner, Tom collides with an older Slytherin boy.
They both stumble, losing grip in their balance, the contents of his bag almost spilling and Tom hisses upon impact on the floor. Watch where you're going or are you blind readies fire on his tongue, but he halts before he could spill a single word out.
The boy is holding his mouth, and between the gaps of his fingers, Tom could see green leaves and the hint of orange petals peaking out.
His first thought is oh, before the boy gags and his mouth explodes.
So you sent me this prompt but now it’s turned into an entire fic and I can’t stop this madness if I tried. So I’m just gonna gift you with the wip of the first Tomarry fic I’ve ever written! ヽ(⌐◽️3◽️)ノ♪♬
I also wrote all most of this at like 3am so please disregard any typos or errors because I haven’t proofread any of this lol.
P.S. can you tell that Tom is my type?
Latched
The sharp crack of apparition announced the arrival of Harry Potter as he appeared just outside the wards of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Another crack sounded on the quiet grounds as the Mr. Harvel Rouch snapped into being next to him. The Runes Master was a stern bloke, Harry thought. He wore navy robes and a pair of small spectacles resting on the edge of his nose which accentuated the scowl that seemed to deepen the longer he was in Harry’s presence. They walked up to the schools entrance in silence, as Rouch had refused any sort of conversation no matter the topic after Harry had accidentally mispronounced his name upon greeting the man. Harry had given up after the first thirty minutes. They made it up the path with no problems and, after knocking on the doors, Harry was wrapped in a backbreaking hug from one Neville Longbottom.
“Harry! It’s so good to see you!” Harry returned the hug with enthusiasm and chuckled.
“You too Neville.” Harry pulled away to gesture at his friend “I mean Professor Longbottom of Herbology.” Harry gave a polite nod.
Neville blushed a little “Nah, Harry.” he chuckled “The school year doesn’t start for another two weeks.” Mr. Rouch huffed and cleared his throat impatiently. “I’m here to inspect the wards.” Rouch said not bothering to hide his annoyance. Not for the first time, he was reminded of his aunt. Neville stepped aside to allow them in. “Of course, please come in.”
As soon as he entered its halls, Harry could feel Hogwarts’ magic welcoming him home. He sighed and smiled, happy to be back and happy happy to see his friend, especially after dealing with Mr. Petunia all day. Speaking of which, there was another famous scowl Harry wholeheartedly wished to avoid. “Alright Neville. You here to take us to see the Headmaster?”
“Yeah,” Neville started down the hall, “Just this way Mr. Roach.” Harry hid his chuckle as a cough.
“It’s Mr. Rouch if you please.” His scowl had turned to a sneer at what Harry guessed was a common mistake.
“My apologies” Neville politely bowed his head “this way.” Rouch huffed and started down the halls ahead of them. Neville followed, gesturing for Harry to join him.
Harry felt warm twisting through the familiar corridors. He probably knew this place better than his own house. This place had been his home for seven years. It had been his only escape from the Dursley’s. Coming back again was like he’d found a piece of himself Harry hadn’t known was missing. But Neville was telling Harry about some new plant or another when something caught his attention. There was a dark magic in Hogwarts that Harry didn’t recognize.
Abruptly, Harry felt his own core reaching out to meet it. Harry nearly tripped as his core and this strange dark magic began to mingle and play, almost caressing each other... Alright they were caressing each other and it was freaking Harry the fuck out. With more effort than Harry would care to admit he restrained his magic core and pulled it back to him. The dark tendrils of magic receded and disappeared almost instantly. Harry’s eyebrows knit together and he made up his mind to tell Dumbledore about it. Well... most of it. Maybe he’d leave out the bit about how friendly his magic had gotten with it. It’s not like anyone could tell but him anyway. Harry quietly came back to the conversation and set his worries aside for now.
The path was just as he remembered. He’d gotten into his fair share of trouble when he was younger. He’d liked to walk the halls at night to clear his head. Although most of the time he was able to avoid the prefects and teachers with his cloak, Mrs Norris had caught him a few times. Neville spoke the password and let them ascend the stairs with a friendly goodbye.
“Come in.” Dumbledore spoke the moment they came upon the headmasters doors, and Harry shook his head fondly at the headmasters dramatics. Harry opened the doors and allowed Rouch in ahead of him before entering himself.
Shutting the door behind him, Harry surveyed the room. Dumbledore was sat at his high desk as usual and appeared to be offering Mr. Rouch a lemon drop. Smiling at his antics Harry noticed two others in the room. On the right, Harry recognized Professor Snape in all his scowling glory as he sneered at his former potions student. But on the left was some Harry didn’t recognize. Presumably another teacher, he was ridiculously tall, in smart black robes that fit snugly in all the correct places. He had equally perfect black hair, porcelain smooth skin, high cheekbones, a sharp jaw, and eyes so dark Harry couldn’t tell the color. He was unfairly handsome in a way that made Harry want to hat him for it. But what really caught Harry’s attention was the dark magic radiating off him like waves. But the moment Harry let go of the door and stepped inside his core snapped out in time with the other mans, and the two cores latched onto each other. The man blinked in surprise as Harry’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. Harry pulled at his magic as much as he could but it wouldn’t budge, and from the tugging on his core he knew the other man was doing the same.
“Young Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore said breaking their silent reverie. “How are you my boy?”
“I’m fine professor” Harry fought to keep his eyes off the man obviously studying him to his left. “It’s good to see you again, headmaster.”
“Good, good,” Dumbledores eyes twinkled with mischief as he looked between Harry and Mr. Perfect. “You of course know Professor Snape, as he taught you potions” he gestured with his hand at the man raising a single eyebrow at Harry. He quickly remembered that Snape had a similar ability to sense magic as Harry, and so did Dumbledore.
“Professor Snape.” Harry greeted him.
Severus’ eyes narrowed as if looking at a puzzle. “Mr. Potter.” He drawled, the silent question hanging heavily in the air. Harry tried to express through his expression that he had absolutely no idea what was happening and that his core wasn’t listening to him and that he was trying to break free but he just couldn’t!
He wasn’t sure if he was able to show all that in a single expression but if the obvious look of disappointment on Snapes face was anything to go by he at least knew that Harry hadn’t the foggiest idea what was going on.
“Yes...” Dumbledore began “Allow me to introduce you to our Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, Professor Tom Riddle.”
“Harry Potter. Pleasure to meet you.” Trying to hide his anxiety, he extending his hand in greeting.
“The pleasure is mine.” His voice was deep and smooth, it reminded Harry of Chocolate and Firewhiskey. He had a blank mask of politeness on his face as he extended a pale hand with long slender fingers, soft against Harry’s, slightly smaller, scared and calloused palms. The only thing giving away his discomfort was how he was still trying to rip his core away from Harry’s. They quickly released each other’s hands as Harry took a few steps back.
Harry looked back up at Dumbledore who had a pleasant smile, but his eyes twinkled in the way Harry recognized as ‘I know more than I’m saying.’,
“Professor Snape, would you be so kind as to lead our Mr.Rouch to the warding room?”
“...Of course.” Snape looked slightly agitated with being excused when something was obviously happening but briskly left, leaving Rouch to held jog to keep up.
Dumbledore looked to Harry “please have a seat my boy... lemon drop?”
“Pardon me,” Riddle began, bringing a hand to his chest. “I’m afraid I must be going now. Mr. Potter.” He politely bowed and briskly walked to the door. Apparently he wanted to be done with this just as much as Harry, who turned back to Dumbledore who was observing Tom with intense focus. Harry was about to speak when he heard Riddle open the door.
Harry’s core instantly tightened its grip on Riddles with enough focus to send him flying backwards and toppling over his chair. Riddle staggered and gripped the doorframe with both hands to keep from falling over as Harry was dragged across the floor. Riddle, still white knuckling the doorframe with one hand, righted himself and smoothed back the single curl that had fallen into his face before turning around. Harry liked at Riddle in something akin to horror as he got up and rubbed the back of his head. Riddles jaw twitched, politeness ripped to shreds as he glared at Harry and sharply said “Let. Go.”
