Author's Note: A note to readers that this is a spin off to the AU Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? It's fairly comprehensive without having read the original fic but there are references to events that have occurred that might be more clear if you've read that first.

"This movie is dreadful."

That was Tom's general observation, it however wasn't appreciated by the young Harry Potter who sat with eyes glued to the television screen, watching avidly the fictional trials and tribulations of a few shallow characters.

As a human Tom Riddle had never been partial to fiction, he found that escaping reality was the pastime of the weak, everything he needed was right in front of him and he didn't have the time to waste by imagining himself to be somewhere else. Trapped inside the notebook it had become easier to allow his imagination to spread, stories told in his mind had become his life's blood, in many ways it kept him sane.

At first they had been the stories of the warfare and glory of his other half, Voldemort, finally conquering Britain and putting both the muggles and the wizards in their rightful place. However, over the years and the emptiness that had gotten old, and with his own thoughts the stories had drifted into new forms until even Tom couldn't recognize them.

They became parables, fables, epics, and everything in between.

On becoming Thomas Evans he'd find himself thinking like that again, between the moments of madness brought on by sensory overload, when the world became wonderfully and incredibly still. When the rain on the windowsill seemed soft rather than like the hard tapping of hammers against the glass.

Thomas Evans was a bit of a fable, half-written, still half-formed as the tale of the young messiah Harry Potter progressed but still there all the same. They were in an interlude now, a small lull in the events, after the great reveal of Harry's heritage had occurred but before any true adventures could begin. They were in the section of the story everyone passed over and in that Thomas Evans would have to build himself up from dust one thought and memory at a time. That was the nature of a story.

So it was with at least some authority that Tom thought at least to himself that he could have done better than the Terminator if he'd given half the effort.

"I mean really, Harry, what have we learned throughout the course of this film? We've learned that Sarah Conner is in deep trouble and that she's being chased by a robot who seems rather insistant. Excellent, it's like I've already seen the next half hour of the film."

Harry turned back at him glaring slightly, "Stop talking, I'm trying to watch."

He might feel slightly bad if they were actually saying anything, at the moment they were watching the android's face being peeled off in the flames until only a metal determined skeleton remained.

Hopefully the next week they'd manage to find something better. They'd started making it a habit to rent films and watch them, and it had been Harry who'd picked the Terminator. Tom had been surprised by the choice, Harry had never liked violence especially since leaving the Dursleys, but he had seemed determined to see it.

In his mind he could sense Harry's disquiet even now; Harry wasn't enjoying the movie either. He found it disturbing. Something in the android, that cold unstoppable determination, something in that was bringing Tom to mind for Harry and it was making him uncomfortable. Not that he would ever say this out loud, these would remain a quiet undercurrent of ideas, never said.

They had many instances like that; there were some things you simply didn't touch.

He had to admit, these robot movies disturbed him as well. This was less piercing than some of the others had been, he felt little connection to this film, but Blade Runner and 2001: Space Odyssey those had been particularly haunting to watch. HAL's fading red eye was still imprinted in his mind, Thomas Evans reflected in its center, what is a horcrux in the end but artificial intelligence?

I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I'm a... fraid.

Some stories Tom did not even dare whisper to himself.

Why did they do this to themselves, Tom wondered? Sit here and eat cheap take out Thai food and suffer in silence when the other could feel the discomfort pervading the room. There were books to read, worlds to explore, all things to do that had nothing to do with this television set and this film.

Yet neither of them reached for the remote because this was tradition in its own right, watching a film and seeing glimpses of Tom Riddle in those artificial humanoids who graced the screen, they couldn't help themselves.

So Tom disparaged instead and tried not to pay too much attention while Harry watched in dull, horrified, recognition. In these moments Tom pulled out the old charades while Harry let his go, and they watched, and for a few hours the world would seem suspended in front of that small screen.

"I hope she dies."

Harry turned to look at him once again, irritated but not truly angry, and Tom continued as if Harry hadn't moved, "Kyle at least needs to die, or that android is hardly as efficient as it seems, a terminator can only terminate effectively if someone manages to die painfully by the end of the film."

"Tom!"

And with a pillow thrown at his head, narrowly missing the Pad Thai Tom had been eating, Tom felt the room was artificially light enough for the story to continue as it had.

Author's Note: Spinoff/Side Fic to Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? For the 100th review of said fic with the prompt by DefectiveHumanModel being something not from Harry's perspective. This takes place during the time skip which may or may not be evident because I kind of like the idea of showing what went on then but I'm not sure how much I can legitimately put into the main fic for plot reasons. That aside thanks for reading and reviews are much appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.