Tom watched silently as the young boy in hysterics (who could have been no older than four, certainly) started to shake with the force of his sobs. He held a slight sneer on his face at the sight of the sniveling child before him.
"What are you doing on my bed?" He said coldly.
"Th-the woman Uncle gave me to told me I was going to stay here now."
Another new child. Tom mused. And they didn't bother telling me. he added bitterly.
"Well," Tom huffed. "if you're going to stay here then so be it. But I will not tolerate your blubbering. You are here now. There is no reason to keep crying about it."
"Yes sir…" the child murmured, and wiped away his tear while he strugled to calm himself down.
"I'm not-" Tom stopped himself. If the boy wanted to call him as such, then he would let him. Besides, he inwardly sneered, all the better that someone in this unforgivable pit treat him with respect.
Tom sighed. What was he going to do about this? He knew well enough that there was little room in the orphanage, Ms. Smott would never leave a boy to room with one of the girls. Regardless of how young, and there was no other "bed" in his room.
His thought pattern was interrupted however, when the young boy spoke up.
"Yes?" Tom asked impatiently. "Come on now, speak up!"
"I-I was wondering, who are you? The woman who left me here never said anything about another boy sharing it with me."
Tom made a face at being referred to as boy. As if he were merely some child.
"My name is Tom Riddle. And you will do well to remember that." He said with an authoritative tone.
Tom Riddle. The young boy mouthed, before smiling softly to himself.
"Yes." Tom answered. Although the young boy had never really spoken. "Are you going to stay there and waste room all night? It's nearing midnight, and I would like to get some sleep. Heavens knows how busy tomorrow will be with a new face arou-"
Quickly, before Tom could even blink or react, The child had scrambled his way off the bed and to the corner on the opposite side of the room. Tom watched silently as the boy slid down the wall into a sitting position, with his need pulled closely to him.
Tom watched bemused at the boy's odd reaction, until he heard the soft words the boy was murmuring.
"I'm sorry. I forgot. I shouldn't have. Uncle says freaks don't deserve real beds. I shouldn't have sat on your bed. I'm sorry…"
Freak.
A word Tom was well and familiar with. He watched the younger boy silently before he came to a decision.
"Enough." He said clearly. Cutting through the boy's muttered sentences and startling him.
"Get in the bed and be quiet."
The boy obeyed silently, and without hesitation, and Tom swelled with contentment. Maybe the boy wouldn't be a "hindrance", as Ms. Cole liked to call him. The boy wasn't fearless of him, but he wasn't petrified like the other children tended to be around Tom. He was simply obedient. He watched as the young boy-Harry, he corrected himself- climbed silently into the bed and immediately placed his back to the wall the bed was pushed up against. Watching Tom as if waiting for further instruction. Tom didn't hide his smirk as he made his way under the covers. He didn't correct the boy into doing the same. Not wanting to share the space under the covers if he didn't have to.
"Lie down, and go to sleep."
And the boy did. Or at least he lied down. But the boy placed his piercing gaze upon Tom, and the two locked eyes. Once again Tom was struck by just how impossibly bright the boys eyes were in the shadowed room. The eerie green orbs feeling as if they were seeing into his very soul while they searched for something in him. All the while Tom gazed unthinkingly back. Intrigued despite himself at what the boy would find.
Perhaps they found something, or maybe even found the absence of something, because the boys smile returned. No longer shy and reserved. And he chirped a happy Goodnight Tom. before drifting off to sleep.
Baffled, and slightly amused, Tom whispered "Goodnight, Harry" and drifted off to sleep as well.
In the morning he would wake to the banging of his door, alone. Without the small boy who had smiled and called him "sir". And he would feel cheated.
And fifty years away, a child would be trading the name "Freak" for "Mad Harry". He would ache for the older boy. Who had felt so oddly familiar. And he would swear that the boy "Tom" was real.
Annnnnnnnnnnnd End scene!
Hello all. I'm delighted to be able to grace you all with a new chapter. And so soon, too! Admitedly,it isn't very long, but im quite proud of it!
Uploading this was so troublesome. The first time i tried saving it, FF completely deleted the chapter. I have never been so happy to do all my writing on google docs. then i had a few kinks in the format to work out and some other things. But it's 2 in the morning on a friday, and its done! (yay)
I've been getting some awesome writing tips recently though that have helped beyond! I need to stop trying to rush out an entire chapter in a day (as much as i would like) and focus on getting at least a few sentences out at a time that would (and did) quickly grow into the finished peice. (You know. In case anyone was wondering...)
And to Sienna, I completely agree. All I ever read anymore, are Tom/Harry fics. I've just about milked ao3 completely dry from all the good ones. I was genuinely honored to find out you thought mine was "going to ba a good Tom/Harry fic." I hope i lived up to your expectations with this chapter, and i hope to continue doing so if I have.
Adieu,
Lexis
(again, going to ask for your opinions and reveiws, Love it? Hate it? Go ahead and tell me. I wont cry.)
(much)
Edit!- I forgot to mention that the rating should be changing in the next chapter. And with Harry's new "nickname", im sure you can guess why. I will be keeping swears to a minimum, but they will still be present (i think) so just...yeah