Disclaimer: Not mine.
Prompt: Wyn wants Harry/Tom Riddle, First Kiss. For Kloset's Drabble Chains.
No one else knew the truth, because there was no one else (alive) that had known Tom Riddle when he was a teenager. Except for Dumbledore, of course, but this was his entire fault, anyway. What was worse, Dumbledore wasn't sorry. Compassion, he'd called it. Harry wasn't so sure Voldemort deserved any, but there he was, looking seventeen and better than when he had, in fact, been seventeen.
Not that Voldemort knew he was supposed to be seventy. Or that it had been a ritual made of Harry's blood and Fawkes's tears that allowed him a second chance in life.
***hp***hp***
Hermione adored Tom Riddle and Ron grudgingly appreciated his quick wit and strategic sense. Even Draco Malfoy and his Slytherin goons worshipped the ground he walked on.
Only Ginny was suspicious. "Riddle looks a lot like You-Know-Who when he was young." Of course, she couldn't remember that Riddle was You-Know-Who's name, thanks to Dumbledore's meddling. Harry felt himself heat up in outrage. "You know, Harry, just because we aren't dating anymore, doesn't mean we're not friends. If you like Tom Riddle, you can trust me enough to help you out." Her smile turned rueful. "We always had very similar tastes."
***hp***hp***
"Oh, my, this is gold" Harry and Ginny whirled around to see Malfoy's face twisted in glee. "Potty has a crush on Riddle!" He ran away. Harry wanted to hex something. Badly.
"Bugger! I'm sorry, Harry."
Harry smiled thinly. "It's not your fault Malfoy's a slimy ferret. Besides, I don't really like Tom Riddle. He just rubs me wrong." Ginny's eyes gleamed and she bit her lip. Harry glared. "Really, Gin? Do grow up."
Ginny giggled. Harry cast a Stinging Hex, but she dodged, laughing. "I bet if you ask nicely, he can rub you right, though."
"Indeed, I can."
***hp***hp***
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. Ginny looked giddy with excitement. "Wow, Tom, er—I'll just leave you two alone, shall I?"
Harry made a grab for her robe, but she slithered away, winking at him as she left. Riddle stepped close and Harry stepped back – he couldn't be the first one to cast, otherwise Dumbledore would have his hide – which meant he was trapped between the window and Riddle. "I should have known, Harry. Playing hard to get, were you?"
That was enough to break Harry out of stupor, and he glared. "Shut up, you evil prat!"
***hp***hp***
Riddle drew back, surprise written on his face. "What's with you? I'm hardly evil. My Head of House would put me down himself if he even dreamt I was dabbling in the wrong side of Dark Arts. He said so himself." Harry realised that Snape must also be aware of Riddle's true identity. "Now, do you want me to kiss you or not?" Riddle asked tetchily. Harry suspected he had reached the end of his patience. Well, too bloody bad.
Harry lifted his chin. "Screw you."
Riddle's eyes flashed and he pressed himself closer, until their chests brushed. "With pleasure."
***hp***hp***
Harry found his hands pinned to the window, his legs swatted apart. Riddle leaned so close, Harry felt lightheaded. He turned his face to the side and Riddle growled, annoyed, "Enough, Potter." He shifted until he could secure both of Harry's wrists with one hand, and got hold of Harry's shin with the other. "You asked for it, didn't you? Always glaring, always pouting."
Harry tried to free his head, but not his wrists. Why not his writs? Why was his leg hooked on Riddle's hip? Why was he thrusting against Riddle? He glared. "What are you going to do?"
***hp***hp***
Riddle smirked and Harry's hips picked up rhythm at the sight. "What are you going to allow me?" he asked in response, before taking Harry's mouth by assault.
Harry threw his arms around Riddle's shoulders to pull him closer, as Riddle found his way inside. Harry groaned into the kiss, wondering what would Riddle do if he shoved him away, but then Tom's hands found their way to Harry's arse to pull him closer. It was wonderful.
Tom's kiss turned vicious, until he snapped, broke the kiss, twirled Harry around, shoving him against the window. Harry's eyes rolled closed when Riddle rubbed his crotch against Harry's backside, his breath hot on Harry's neck. "So? What are you going to allow me, Harry?"
Harry pushed backwards against Tom's clothed erection, then turned his head sideways, but Tom was diligently mouthing Harry's neck. He pressed a kiss to Tom's temple, instead. "Anything."
-The End-