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Tom worked at a simple convenience store when they met. He didn't expect to find a young man with baggy clothes and lots of hand-painted designs of stars and celestial bodies on the fabric, rummaging through the utensils in the shop, looking for extremely specific things like ripe mandrakes.
He was short, had a curious and determined look, he was funny even, handsome, friendly, with emerald jewel eyes the color of grass and comfort, and a tanned skin. He wore a funny hat on top of his head, looked like the kind of witch you saw in movies or read about in books. It had a crooked tip, and he had to put his hat down when he entered the little shop because he would bump into the little bell that indicated people entering, and almost make it fall off. Tom was laughing. In addition to the funny coats, he wore long skirts that hid his dirt-stained boots. He looked like he came out of a witch magazine because he had all the stereotypes. Either that or he loved nature and mystical things too much, because he was always on the lookout for incense…
His name was Harry Potter, the strangest buyer he had.
“Do you happen to sell acromantula venom here?”
"Pardon?" Tom laughed. What was an acromantula? And why was it poisonous? And why did he specifically want acromantula venom?
“I already saw that not” He answered himself, in a growl, turning over some glass jars, “They'll be good for potions…” he murmured, alone. “Do you have ash eggs, yes?”
“No, sir, we don't have those things here…” These “things” that Tom didn't even know what they were. “Look, we sell incense for a good price, and plants. Do you like to plant?” Something in him said that he did like planting, and at the very least he should have a vegetable garden.
“I like…” Harry answered with a finger to his lip, as if he was thinking, until he had a sudden moment of epiphany: “I know. Do you have daisy seeds here? I need it for a potion from a demanding customer and I haven't found any good daisies in fact. Guess I'll have to plant mine myself…” He talked, he talked too much.
And another—potion? All right, it could be the craze of eccentric people who applaud the sunset and the like.
“In that case, we do.” Tom was happy to show him the little packets of daisy seeds: “They're the best we've got. I can do it with a discount for you.'
Harry gave him a beautiful curl of the lips, the most beautiful of smiles, and Tom was captivated as much as a sailor attracted by the song of a beautiful siren.
“They will do. I need a good mower too, to take care of the weeds. They are causing me enormous damage, and I can't get them out myself, they always manage to appear more and more…”
Tom saw an opportunity there: “I can cut it for you, I was a gardener for a while before working in this little shop” Lie! He learned gardening from the gardener at the orphanage where he lived, now that was another story, and he could lie a little bit to get what he wanted.
"Serious? I do not know how to thank you. Of course, paying.” He gave a nervous chuckle as he responded to himself, “But you'll be doing me a huge favor. When are you free for duty?” Harry asked.
“I'm at your service” Tom promptly replied.
"Excellent. I'll take the daisies and some incense, and these little pitchers too.” Harry put everything he listed on the workbench, taking a battered wallet from the pocket of his long patchwork skirt, taking out a sum of money. "I find it very strange that they only accept pounds and not galleons here... My last muggle savings are running out" He whimpered about who knows what, and Tom laughed just not to be offended.
Harry bought what he needed and gave Riddle his address—he didn't have a phone, so they couldn't get in touch. They set a date, and Tom was apprehensive about not being able to talk to Harry these days that they didn't see each other, wondering if perhaps something unforeseen could happen that would prevent them from seeing each other, but no: everything worked out.
To access Harry's house, it wasn't easy. First of all, cars weren't allowed in, so he couldn't even take a taxi. He plunged deeper into the forest, weaving among branches and bushes until he found, as Harry had described to him earlier, a patch of mushrooms with red heads and vividly colored white spots.
“Is this your house?” Tom asked in wonder.
It was round, a hut, with lots of hand touches, a brick roof that looked like they were going to collapse at any moment but were very secure due to magic—according to Harry—and little windows in circles, without glass. There was a telescope right in the center of the garden, with a bench and some open books.
"I forgot to clean up the mess out here" Harry apologized.
There were also many bird nests, but no sign of them. What he had were his eggs. Where he lived was close to a well, and he said that every day he went there to fetch water for his daily tasks, since there was no sanitation system nearby. The garden then, was a mess, disorganized and chaotic, the way its own owner was, plus the addition of weeds consuming some of the plantings, which would soon resolve itself.
“I suck at it, gardening, even though I enjoy it. It's something I don't have talent for but appreciate. As someone who cooks just for the sake of cooking. I need this to survive. Much of what I gather serves as ingredients for potions. Not all of them require me to grow something, sometimes I can just go to your little shop and buy what I need.” He chuckled, “But like I said, I have some picky clients who insist on homemade produce.”
Tom listened intently, not knowing that part of it was fiction or a very solid and persistent joke by Harry, but he chose not to contradict it—he was cute when he talked a lot, too much, about those potions and his customers.
"Do you have a little shop for your potions?" Tom dared to ask, without disdain, he really was interested, as he did the manual work.
"Oh yes! I have! It's just that, well, I have an uncle… Well, more like a father, who guided me in the potions business. When I reached the age of majority and graduated from Hogwarts, he helped me open my own little potions shop and referred me to some of his clients, he is very good potion master… Then the rest… I made my name on my own” He smiled beautifully again—like all the smiles he gave, they were all beautiful.
"I see" Tom nodded, finally getting rid of a stubborn weed that was taking a long time to get out, and even nearly uprooting a pomegranate field. “And Hogwarts was where you went to school? Where it is?"
"Ahhh, I shouldn't be telling this to a muggle..." He chuckled, as he cleaned up the mess he'd referred to earlier, keeping the pile of books indoors, going in and out the entire time to keep up his conversation with Tom while the two worked, each in his own way. "Wait, I'll tell you everything, let me bring my cauldron out so I can work while we talk"
"Yes sir" Riddle agreed, not taking this cauldron thing too seriously, or that he shouldn't know something for being a “muggle” even if it wasn't exactly an offense according to Harry.
“Done” Harry came back, but empty handed. No, not empty. There was a piece of twig wrapped around his fingers.
“Where is the cauldron?”
"Here" Harry took a mini-cauldron out of his skirt pocket. He put him on the ground, in the middle of the grass, and pointed with the piece of wood at him. “Engorgio!” roared, and in the same instant, the cauldron, which was the size of a coffee mug, was transformed into a real witchcraft tool.
Tom, however, didn't seem as surprised by this as he should have been.
“Amazing” He muttered. While Harry placed a large wooden spoon inside the empty cauldron, and brought out boxes of fresh ingredients according to him, plus some glass jars that he had bought in his little shop, Tom spoke again: “Back to the subject, tell me about Hogwarts. ”
"Ah yes, yes, Hogwarts" He sighed wistfully. “It's the best school for magic. Not that I've been to others, but my experience there makes me believe it's the best ever.” As usual, he talked a lot, and Tom loved to listen. “There are four houses there. Ravenclaw, which is for the creative and intelligent… Mine, heheh” He puffed out his chest as he said, “Hufflepuff, for the noble at heart and good at teamwork… I almost fell over there, you know, but the sorting hat said that I would go better in blue” And it's true; those eccentric clothes of blue tones all suited him well. "There's also Gryffindor, which is for the brave and fearless... And, Slytherin, for the proud and traditionalists"
"Which of these houses do I fit in, can you tell?" Tom asked curiously.
“Hmmm… Look, to tell you the truth, my friends and I liked to bet which house the first years would go to as soon as they got to Hogwarts, and I was doing pretty well with my guesses! I think you would go to… Slytherin! Something tells me you're a Slytherin!"
“Do I look proud and traditionalist?” Tom joked.
“Well, not just that, those are the main points of why you would fall into this house, but it has subtle details. They are very fond of their own space and are very organized. Skilled, and very intelligent, not like the Ravenclaws, who are on the imaginary side, more on the logical and rational side.”
“Wow” Tom stopped, with his hand on an insistent weed: “You read me perfectly.” He smiled. And Harry… loved that smile.
But hey wait! "That's not a weed, Tom!"
It was late; he plucked a mandrake, which at the first scream sent Tom crashing into the dirt and grass. Luckily Harry had covered his ears until the situation was resolved—get rid of that mandrake by burying it back where it shouldn't have come out until it was mature.
Tom woke up in a bed with many quilts all covered with scraps, his head resting on a soft pillow, and the smell of the wooden furniture, as everything in that house apparently should be, originally made of wood, impregnated his nostrils. He was covered by the sheets, with Harry looking at him worriedly, measuring his temperature with his hand.
"You woke up!" he exclaimed in relief. "Take this" Harry pushed a cup of something he didn't know what it was to a still groggy Tom, but he trusted that little wizard and drank everything, until the last drop. “It's for a headache, home remedy. You'll need it, mandrakes scream so loudly that you're dizzy for a few days…” Own experience, apparently.
“Sorry, I should have been more careful”
“Don't worry, I didn't warn you… You wouldn't have thought you'd be holding a mandrake in the middle of my pomegranate plantation… It's just that I had nowhere to fit it, it was one of the last ones who had survived last winter, and I really need it for a potion to cure insomnia” He spoke, all too fast, awkwardly. "Are you okay…?"
"Yes, I am. Just a sharp pain in the ear. But it will pass.” Tom stuck out his thumb to reassure that everything was fine.
"I insist that you do not return to work in the garden for today." Harry made him lie back on the bed again. “However, would you have some lemon juice? It's homemade too”
“I would love that” Tom nods.
Tom counted the days to find Harry in his little shop, and came and went he always returned. They did not communicate otherwise, and only when they saw each other could they smile goofily at each other and speak. Indeed, Harry speaking, and Tom listening intently, all he had to say about his world, the wizarding world.
At other times Tom would go to Harry's house to take care of his garden and the flowers or fruits that he himself had bought from his little shop, and he would assure Harry that those little seeds would germinate and grow healthy if in his skilled hands. Harry smiled and said "I can always count on you then, Riddle"
However, the fact that they saw little of each other was killing Tom. So he took a desperate measure: he bought Harry a cheap cell phone, and gave it to him one day when they saw each other again that he was going to take care of the garden. It was an old model, not a pretty one to show off, but Harry was so pleased.
“Is that your muggle owl?”
"You could say yes" Tom replied matter-of-factly as he added his number to Harry's mobile. “Do you have an owl?” He asked when he realized what the other had said.
"Yes I have! Wait…” Then it whistled, and in the distance, from the trees that enveloped the forest, an owl swooped down to land on Harry's arm. She was beautiful, with brownish fur, like the sunset. The owl with its big eyes looked deeply at Tom as if trying to recognize him as an equal. But no, Tom was not an owl! “Edwiges. Her name is Edwiges. Edwiges, this is Tom!”
"It's a pleasure" Tom bowed briefly to the owl in an act of respect, and the owl looked intrigued.
"I'll ask her to send you letters when you’re at work and can't talk to me" He sighed, petting the top of Edwige's head, who appreciated the act.
“That won't be necessary” Tom returned the cell phone to Harry's hands, “That's why I gave you this cell phone. For you to talk to me. Go to the contact book, select mine, and press “send a text”, then you type what you want and it will appear in real-time for me” Of course, because Tom had also paid for an internet plan for that cell phone of Harry since he didn't have wifi in his house. “It is as efficient as an owl.”
Edwiges didn't seem to like hearing that…
“Hmmm” Harry looked like a kid who had just gotten a new toy for Christmas, examining it and studying the phone and all its features. "What is it?" He pressed the button when he selected the snake icon.
“Ah—Blockade,” Tom said. “It's the snake game”
“How do you play this?” Harry instinctively pressed the buttons to go sideways, up and down, reaching for the apple without bumping into his own skin or the walls, as if he really understood the game.
"It's like this" Tom instructed. “You're doing well… Try not to hit yourself or the walls and always pick the berries that come up”
“What are those numbers up here?”
“Your score. That's how many apples you've already eaten”
“So few…” There were sixteen; “and the snake is already big!”
Tom chuckled. He spent the afternoon playing that addictive game with Harry instead of getting rid of weeds or annoying bugs, because Potter liked the snake game so much.
First date.
Tom Riddle checks his watch several times to make sure he's not late as he brushes his perfectly styled hair for the thirteenth time. He arranged balls to ask Harry out on a date, and, as Harry accepted—not wanting to brag but, Tom was quite handsome and smooth-talking…—he decided it would be an outdoor walk, so as not to scare Harry by taking him outside. something like a movie theater or an amusement park right off the bat. Not. A close walk in a park near Riddle's house should be enough. He sent a text message with the location, and hoped that Harry understood where he was supposed to go. Would he dress as neatly as he did? He sincerely hoped… no. He rather sees him in his typical colorful and fun clothes than imagine him in something formal. That could be put aside and for another time. Now it was just a first date.
Tom waited for Harry sitting on a stool.
When he saw him, he got up quickly, ready to greet him, but he melted completely when he got a kiss on the cheek.
"Hello, Riddle" Harry said, linking his arm with Tom's, ready to pull him along for a walk. All right, Tom was willing to walk. "This is my first first date" Harry whispered. “Everything in life has its first time, doesn't it?”
Riddle looked shocked: “Is this your first date? In your entire life?”
Harry wasn't hurt by the question, he knew Tom well enough to know that it wasn't in bad faith that he asked.
"Yea. The first of the first.”
"But how?" Tom couldn't understand. "I mean—It's just that you are… Well… Hm… How can I put it…" Riddle chuckled shyly as Harry looked at him with adoration and affection. “You're so handsome and interesting…” That's because Tom was at a loss for words when it came to Harry; “Has no one ever asked you out?”
"No… I wasn’t “handsome” in high school" Harry laughed, sourly this time. “…Boys made fun of me, and girls… Well, they saw me more as a friend than a romantic interest. As for you… I bet you received a lot of love notes…” He smiled playfully at Riddle who also laughed, unable to deny it.
"Actually, I was also made fun of" (besides the love letters...) "I was always very stoic, and people didn't appreciate that" Riddle spoke without resentment.
“You have an enigmatic, mysterious way… It is very tempting!” Harry squeezed his arm tightly as they walked, watching in the distance a few other couples or families with children running and playing in the grass. “It's sexy.” dared to say.
Tom got red all over his face, so he covered it up by looking to the side and coughing.
"Caham" Harry cleared his throat, as if he hadn't said a big deal. “Like I said, some boys teased me… Then I jinxed them!” He laughed, this time evil. “I already made a boy spit slugs after calling me a dirty half-blood… He was a tease, he was always on my back…”
“Maybe he liked you” Tom said, a little jealous.
Harry laughed. “Not even close. But and you? What did you do when boys teased you?”
Tom remembered, and let out a genuine laugh. “I had my own way of jinxing someone. I cut up their stuffed animals… It's just, well, I grew up in an orphanage. So… we all lived under the same roof”
Revealing this, he tensed up a bit, nervous, thinking about what Harry would say.
“Are you an orphan?”
“Yes…”
There he goes. Tom was ready for Harry to say something like "I don't want to date an orphan" and dismiss him altogether, but what he said was surprising.
“I'm an orphan too” The two stopped walking. “I grew up being cared for by a friend of my mother. He is like a father to me. But I never saw my parents…”
“I'm sorry”
“Don't be sorry” Harry smiled at him, and spirits returned, as did the walk. "We have a lot in common, Riddle"
"A lot?" Tom asked somewhat gullibly, chuckling. “We are from two completely different worlds… Almost like a cliché.”
“Yeah… but look at this. I am an orphan. You too. I am eccentric, and so are you.” Tom took that as a high compliment. “I like you…”
“…And I like you too” Tom completed.
Tom was sweating cold.
"It's going to be okay, dear" Harry tried to calm him down, but it didn't work. He was anxiously staring at the fireplace in Harry's house as if expecting something to come out of it. And indeed something would actually come up—not something, but someone.
Harry's foster father!
Tom chose his best clothes, shoes, and the best perfume, least sweet and most pleasant to the nostrils so that not a word could be said about him stinking—no! Riddle was a smelly man. It is determined. He would meet the father of his now boyfriend and make a good first impression.
Wuush.
From the hearth, a black blur slowly took shape. A man in night-black robes and a cape, like a bat—he shouldn't be thinking these things about his father-in-law…—, and an unfriendly face; Roman nose, lush on the face, thin face, pale skin, like a vampire. He looked like he wanted to suck the life out of Riddle's body the moment he saw him.
"Dad!" Harry, who told Riddle that he didn't usually call Snape dad, only when he wanted something from him, went towards him, hugging him, being enveloped by the black cloak. “It's good that you're here” Her little emerald eyes conquered anyone. "This is Tom, whom I've talked about so much in the letters..."
Tom stood up and stood before Severus Snape to greet him, looking directly into his eyes shamelessly only to know that he was scrutinizing him and visibly criticizing every last detail. your.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir"
"Hm" Severus grumbled, greeting him with a friendly handshake.
Friendly? Take it away, there was nothing friendly about it!
"You can let go of his hand now, father..." Harry said to Severus, and just like that he let go of him.
"Full name?" Severus asked.
“Tom Riddle, sir.”
“I don't know the family.”
Harry looked nervous all of a sudden.
"How old are you?"
“Twenty-one, sir” Same as Harry.
"Half Blood?"
"Eh?"
“What wizarding school did you go to? I don't remember you at Hogwarts." He narrowed his eyes.
“So, Dad…”
“No. Let him speak.”
Tom swallowed hard, looking at Harry as if asking for help. How could he have concealed the fact that Tom was a muggle in his letters? Soon for an overprotective father who didn't trust other guys to take care of his little boy? There was no one to save him, he would have to get out of that pit alone.
“Sir” His voice almost, almost abandoned him. But no—he had the balls to stand up to his father-in-law. “I'm not a wizard. I'm a muggle…”
“Dad!!!” Snape dropped dramatically into Harry's arms—but he was too heavy and he was about to fall too. Tom went to help his boyfriend hold him. But it was only by making mention of touching Severus that he was promptly on his feet in front of Tom, wand extended towards him as he scolded his son:
“How can you get involved with a muggle? And everything I ever taught you about them?”
"He's different…" Harry murmured.
Tom wasn't afraid of a stick, even if it could do a few sparks and a few tricks; he lowered Severu's wand and made him face him again.
“Sir, I mean no harm” Tom said, voice firm, he meant it.
“And why should I trust you?”
“Because I could have told others about Harry and him being a wizard, but I didn't. I could have walked away from the beginning, and I didn't. I could have called him a lot of names, like a weirdo, strange, crazy, or whatever, before hearing and seeing what he had to say and show, but no, I stayed to see his world. I really like Harry.”
"..."
"I like him very much too, dad... And I like you very much... I want you to get along..."
Those words softened Snape's stony heart—which was only as cold as an iceberg to anyone who didn't it was Harry—letting a sigh slip through the lips of that old man who didn't know how to handle teenagers so well now that he had a son.
"It's all right. I can try." Severus gave the verdict, and Harry gave one of his beautiful smiles.
Unashamed of doing this in front of his own father, Harry pulled Tom in for a kiss, a simple smack of the lips delicate and loving, he was so happy, although Riddle continued to break out in a cold sweat as he had to make a good first impression again for his father-in-law who was still there, examining him.
“Did you complete your studies?”
“Dad…”
“I'm just curious.”
"Yes sir."
“Do you have a job?”
"Yes sir." Again, on automatic.
"Hm..." He turned back to Harry. “Is he taking good care of you?”
"Yes father! He even gave me a cell phone!”
"One what?"
“See” He pulled the cell phone that Tom had given him from his skirt pocket and showed his father the snake game. “That's it, you can't touch the walls or yourself, and you have to eat the apples that appear on the screen… Press these buttons here” he indicated, “to go sideways, up or down, otherwise you die ”
“Did he give you this stupid device?” Snape sneered.
“Try to play!” Harry challenged.
“Hmph.” Snape took the cell phone in hand and did as his son said, but lost in a few apples. Two. “I'll try again…” Again, he lost early on with four apples. “What a mediocre game…”
Harry started to take the cell phone out of his hands, but he was brushed aside: “Let me play this! I'll show that I've mastered muggle culture too!"
Riddle had to hold back a laugh, but he was amused to see his father-in-law losing his sanity over the snake game.
Later, Harry told Tom that Snape intended to buy a cell phone for his own use, and that besides, he had also taken a liking to Tom.
Point for Riddle.
Love potion, for insomnia, for skin care, for stomach ache, home remedies… All this in a small backpack that was given to Tom. Harry was with him across the counter from the little shop that was now theirs, with muggle and wizarding utensils, decorations of stars and mushrooms, many small jars of potions as described above, examples of cauldrons and brooms, and simple things like teacups. coffee cups, funny kitten bottoms, antique watches, and notebooks, canned goods and the like, were sold at the half-blood convenience store owned by the newlywed couple. Harry was at the counter every other day, and on the days he was, Tom delivered Harry's orders to the post office.
"Nice delivery, my love" Harry pecked Tom's lips. "I will be waiting for you!"
Tom whistled, and Hedwig straddled his arm, with a basket full of addresses to be put on the potion bottles once Riddle arrived at the post office.
“I’ll be back in one step!”
"I love you~" Harry said, waving goodbye to him.
There are rumors that in the forest lives an ugly and scary wizard who curses those who cross his path. The truth is, Harry isn't ugly, nor is he scary, and he doesn't curse anyone—he's more concerned with running his little potions shop with his muggle husband, Tom Riddle.