This is my new series: Tom Learns What It's Like to have Friends.

Voldemort is separate from Tom but he did everything he did in canon. Tom is a 3rd year while Harry's a 1st. And Tom is good but he's still a Slytherin

He'd found a compartment to sit in.

He peeked in through the glass; there was one boy inside, huddled up in the corner who didn't seem to notice him there, or if he did, he was blatantly ignoring Harry. Upon deciding that the boy didn't look as threatening as the other blokes he'd seen thus far while wandering down the train corridor, Harry slowly opened the door. It was then that the boy lifted his eyes from the book he was reading so now Harry was able to get a good look of him. The boy's hair was black just like his own, although it was much neater. He wore worn out clothes too, scuffed trainers and he must not have been a first year by the looks of him. He had to be older.

"Hello," Harry gave a half smile.

The boy said nothing in return, though his eyes lingered on him.

"Can I sit here?" Harry asked and then added for good measure, "Please?"

The boy gave a bit of a shrug. Harry took that as a yes. "Thanks," sat down across from him, greatly relieved to have found a spot. He settled for a moment, leaning back on the soft material. "I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Potter."

The boy's eyebrows rose slightly. He, along with many others, had obviously heard of him. It made an uncomfortable feeling settle in Harry's stomach. He tried to squash it. He was going to have to deal with it, as there would be more to come.

"What's your name?" Harry prompted when he, again, had yet to say anything to him.

He didn't fail to notice the glint of annoyance in the boy's eyes, possibly from Harry talking and keeping him from his thick book. For what seemed like minutes, he was stared at, with the boy's face rigid. Harry was about to apologize for his question, it being on the tip of tongue when the boy spoke up which sounded like he was attempting to rein in his temper.

"Tom. Tom Riddle."

He wasn't a first year, Harry decided. Definitely not. The boy's- Tom 's voice had started to break and was lower in pitch, unlike his own. "How old are you?" He asked.

Tom's eyes locked on his. His irritability was clear now. "Thirteen."

"So you're a third year," Harry murmured to himself. Tom heard it anyway.

"Brilliant deduction," Tom rolled his eyes.

Harry frowned. He hadn't meant to upset him. "So, err, what house are you in-"

Tom exhaled sharply. His book slammed down on his legs. "If you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you left me alone," he said coolly. "I am in no mood for idle chat."

Harry scratched the back of his neck, inwardly wincing at having mucked up so quickly. It was just like primary school, except most of that was influenced by Dudley and his gang. No one wanted to cross them. Even if they were going to Hogwarts too, somehow he couldn't see Tom being frightened of them. "Err, sure."

He was given one last disdainful look before Tom went back to his book, silence overcoming the compartment. True to his promise, Harry didn't bother the older boy once. He passed the time by alternating between reading one of his class textbooks and glancing out the window, watching the scenery change.

Tom was quiet as well. The only other time he said something was when the lady pushing the trolley filled with sweets came by and asked the both of them if they wanted anything. Harry had a small bag of money with him so he bought a couple of things that caught his fancy-two chocolate frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean. Tom, on the other hand, muttered that he was fine and continued reading. Harry wondered if Tom had brought any food with him as they wouldn't be arriving at Hogwarts until dinner time, but as it turned out, he didn't have any at all.

It didn't feel right to Harry. He knew Tom was hungry, even if he didn't come out and say it. Once or twice, he'd heard a soft rumble and saw the older boy's cheeks redden just a smidgen. However, Tom refused to acknowledge it; he would firmly keep his eyes on the pages in front of him and not look at Harry.

Harry hadn't been sure what to think. He thought about offering some of the Bertie Beans and a chocolate frog to Tom so he wouldn't have to go all those hours without eating. But Tom had distinctly said not to talk to him. Surely this was a reasonable exception?

Perhaps. But he didn't want to give the older boy any reason to snap at him again.

In the end, Harry didn't. He ate the rest of his candy quietly and went back to his own book. It was when he subtly noticed Tom trying to stifle another rumble that a twinge of guilt festered within and he wished he'd done it anyway.

/

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table. Across from him was Hermione Granger and on his right, Ron Weasley. He'd met the two of them on the boat. Ron had been first; he shyly asked Harry if he could join him. Then not a moment later, Hermione said snippily that he, being Ron, needed to move. That had soured Ron's good mood. He'd flushed, though Harry didn't know if it was from anger or embarrassment, grumbling as he did so, making sure to be as far from her as possible. Which wasn't much.

She really wasn't that bad, though. A little bossy, but also really nice. Too bad Ron didn't see that. He and Hermione kept bickering over little things. Harry had tried to intervene, but neither had listened. They were far too engrossed with each other.

They had another person join them. A boy named Neville, who Harry recalled seeing on the platform. He smiled at Neville, advising him to just ignore them-he gestured to Ron and Hermione.

(Ron had groaned when Hermione was sorted, who grimaced when he was sorted).

Despite that, it was really exciting to have found two, possibly three friends. He'd never had a real friend before. Not for the first time since learning he was magic, Harry grinned.

Harry had tried looking around for Tom without being obvious. When they got to Hogwarts, the older boy had left without saying anything to Harry. He wondered what house Tom was in. As there were still some people needing to be sorted, they stood in the way of his line of sight, so he couldn't properly see the other two house tables-Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

Ron had told him in a hushed voice about Slytherin. Just like Hagrid, he was warned about the wizards and witches that ended up there. Hermione thought he was being ridiculous, which made Ron tell her to mind her own business. Which was when Harry got the inkling he'd have to deal with these kinds of things more often.

"Say, Percy?" Harry said to the red-head beside him. He was one of Ron's older brothers and a Prefect. Ron introduced them as soon as he sat down. "Oh," he said when he realized he'd unintentionally interrupted a conversation between Percy and an older looking boy-perhaps in Percy's year-with brown hair. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," the boy with brown hair said.

Percy waved off his apology, turning slightly so that they faced each other, swallowing his bite of chicken. "RIght. It's fine. I'm here to answer questions anyway. Now, what is it?"

"Do you know who Tom Riddle is?" Harry asked.

Percy looked thoughtful. "I believe I've heard of him. He's a third year. Pretty quiet. He doesn't really speak to anyone. I've heard he's smart. You see, my two brothers-Fred and George-are in his year as well. They've said he's wicked smart."

"Oi, are you talking about us, Perce?" One of the twins that helped Harry earlier plopped down beside Percy. The other followed.

"Did you mention how devilishly handsome we are?" The other grinned.

Percy put on a feign haughty look. "Now you two know it would be lying and as a Prefect, I'm above such nonsense."

Ron and the boy with brown hair laughed.

"Rude," one of the twins sniffed. "Just plain rude."

"I've never been so insulted in my life!" the other declared dramatically.

"Never?" Percy said and then added, "I'll have to fix that."

They gasped.

"Can you believe this, Fred?"

"I can't, Georgie. I just can't."

"Our dearest Percy doesn't care about us anymore!"

"Bugger off," Percy said good-naturedly. "Don't you have anyone else to bother?"

The twin who Harry now believed to be Fred, wrapped an arm around Percy's shoulders. "Bother? As if we would ever."

"We just want to spend time with our favorite brother," George said.

"But since Bill's not here," Fred paused with a grin. Percy snorted, rolling his eyes. "You'll have to do."

"I'm touched," Percy deadpanned.

"You should be."

"Aye, Fred, George," the boy with the brown hair chimed in, "you two practiced over the summer like I told you, yeah? Do you know if the girls did too? I tried owling them but I think Angie told Katie and Alicia not to respond. Can you believe that?'

"Not at all," Percy said dryly.

The boy didn't grasp that Percy was being sarcastic. He nodded vigorously. "I know! I dunno why."

"It's a real mystery," Fred said in a cryptic voice.

"Can't have anything to do with how much of a tyrant you are," George snickered.

"Oh, no. Definitely not."

"Shut up you two," the boy glared at them.

It was then that Fred and George announced they were going back to sit with the girls-some ways down the table, Harry saw three girls who he assumed was who they'd been referring to. The boy, who he found out was Oliver Wood, jumped to his feet to follow him. It made Percy shake his head.

"He's obsessed," Percy told him. "He's the quidditch captain."

"What's quidditch?" Harry wondered.

Ron's eyes bugged out. "You don't know what quidditch is?"

"No," Harry said unsurely.

"Don't let Oliver hear you say that," Percy muttered. Louder he said, "It's a sport-"

"Best sport in the world!" Ron said excitedly. Hermione rolled her eyes. He was about to launch into a whole discussion of it but Percy seemed to remember why Harry had spoken to him in the first place and promptly cut his brother off.

"Is there a reason you were asking about Tom Riddle?"

Harry shrugged. "Just curious. We sat together on the train."

"Really?" Percy seemed interested. "How peculiar."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed a little. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know much about him, but from what I've seen, he usually sits by himself. No one ever goes in there."

"Why?"

This time Percy shrugged. "I suppose they're nervous around him. I wouldn't know. Did he, by chance, speak to you?"

"If you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you left me alone."

"A bit," Harry decided on. "But not really."

Percy nodded carefully. "I see."

"Do you know what house he's in?" Harry wondered.

"He's a Slytherin," Percy said.

"Bet he's all buddy with Malfoy," Ron muttered. "Slimy snake."

"Ron," Percy warned. "We talked about this. I've told you not to listen to Fred and George. Not all Slytherins are bad."

Hermione lit up at his words. "I tried to tell him the same thing. I think this house rivalry is silly, don't you? Why should we care about that? Oh, I'm Hermione Granger, by the way-"

Harry agreed with Percy and Hermione. He didn't think Tom was all that bad. Cranky and quiet, sure. But he wasn't like Malfoy, who had been furious he'd refused his friendship. He seemed much more tolerable.

He sat through the rest of dinner pondering.

/

The three of them were walking down the corridor. Beside him, Ron and Hermione argued over what happened in Charms, over how Ron had been saying the spell correctly, while Hermione insisted otherwise. Harry had tuned out of the conversation soon after it started. He was staring ahead but still paying attention.

His eyes caught sight of Tom.

He hadn't seen much of him. Their schedules were different which meant an occasional glance in the corridor was the only time he saw the older boy. Technically at meals too, but that was to be expected. Tom was slightly too far away for him to say hello. Harry noted he was walking alone, which was usually the case. Did Tom have no friends? If he did, Harry had never seen them. At meals, he sat alone and ate while reading.

Harry may have watched him once or twice to know that.

Tom's bag wasn't shut. A folder was hanging out and- oh . It fell on the ground but because of the noise level, he didn't stop to pick it up. Strangely, no one else said anything to him. Harry briefly abandoned his friends to grab the aforementioned folder. He picked it up, opening it to find Transfiguration homework. It was finished, probably ready to be turned in.

He heard the footsteps of Ron and Hermione come up behind him. Finally, their argument fizzled out.

"What's that?" Ron asked, catching a glance of it.

"Tom's," Harry replied.

"Riddle's?" Ron wrinkled his nose.

"Oh, honestly, Ron, grow up!" Hermione snapped.

He glared at her.

"He dropped it," Harry said. "But he didn't realize it."

And now Tom was gone. He'd rounded the corner to who knows where.

"You should give it back to him," Hermione said, peering down at it. "He's going to be missing it."

"Right," Harry said with a sigh. "I just don't know where he's gone."

"Try the hall," Ron suggested. Although he wasn't overly keen on helping out a Slytherin, he was at least attempting to be helpful.

Hermione was scandalous. "We have class soon!"

"So?" Ron said.

Before this, too, could dissolve into another argument, Harry said, "I'll wait until after."

Hermione was satisfied.

/

Harry told his friends they could head off towards lunch without him. He'd be there once he was done. This was a pure guess on his part, but he figured it was possible that this was the hour that Tom had Transfiguration. It couldn't have been Potions or Charms because those were attended by the younger years in the mornings.

The corridors had thinned out now that most were getting seated in their classes or off in the Great Hall. Harry picked up his speed. Then, to his utmost relief, he saw Tom walking towards the door to McGonagall's classroom.

"Tom!"

Tom turned around slowly, raising his eyebrows incredulously at seeing Harry come to a stop in front of him. Breathless, Harry took a second to get air back into his lungs. All the while, Tom looked increasingly impatient.

"Is there a reason you're here?" He looked annoyed.

"Yeah," Harry nodded and dug into his own bag. He pulled out the folder and surprise crossed Tom's face.

"Where did you get that?"

"It fell out of your bag," Harry explained, handing it over. "You were too far away for me to say something."

Tom stared at him for what seemed like a long time. Just studying his face as if searching for a lie. "Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" He said at last.

"I've got lunch now."

"Which began," Tom pulled his robe up on his arm, checking out an old looking beat up watch, "almost ten minutes ago."

Harry didn't know what else to do. He nodded.

"To give me this," Tom held up the folder.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Don't worry, everything's fine inside."

Tom went still. He looked almost awkward. Harry started back unsurely. Was he going to be yelled at? Tom cleared his throat. "Thank you," the words rolled off the older boy's tongue as if they were unfamiliar to him. Painful even. "For bringing this to me."

Harry grinned. "You're welcome."