#when it comes to tomarry aus

[bythepen98]

Tomarry 💚❤️️

Time Travel au (brief)

It was Harry who decided that Tom looked comfy enough to sleep on and obviously Tom wasn't going to say no to that. He's the kind of obsessive bastard who can't function without constantly touching Harry in some way or another, so acting as Harry's makeshift bed during his naps is a dream come true. Harry thinks that the horcrux inside him might have addictive, maybe even healing?, properties to the main body, or something along those lines, because why else would Tom be all clingy with him considering their less than stellar beginning? but being touch starved himself, he welcomes it and tries not to think too hard about how nice it feels holding hands with his supposed nemesis whenever they walk down the halls together in school. He also keeps the image of Ron and Hermione giving him the side eye locked very tightly in a box, shoved firmly in the darkest corner of his mind, whenever situations - like him deciding to visit Tom in the Slytherin common room and proceeding to glomp on him while they're in the middle of a Knights meeting - happen. (Cue Knights going bug eyed as Tom, unphased, readjusts Harry in his lap and continues on with the meeting. It will happen often enough that the members don't bat an eyelash to such occurrences anymore and decide not to question the ambiguous nature of their relationship either bc a content Tom is a less crucio happy Tom.) Bottom line: Harry's perfectly fine with living in denial, thank you very much, because as far as he is concerned, he's not the savior of anything anymore in this reality. A sane and very handsome*cough* Tom Riddle who somehow sees him and his opinions in high regard, is willing to take a less radical route regarding his still world dominating plans (Harry will take what he can get bc he knows a lost cause when he sees one), has no qualms giving him affection and promises to spoil him rotten as long he stays by his side? Yeah, even Merlin won't be able to convince him to go back to his old timeline. He's fine with seeing his old friends again in a different, hopefully better, future.

:')☝️☝️

kofi ⭐https://ko-fi.com/i/IB0B1N306Z

[hmdaaaa]

i loooove tomarry time travel au but with outsiders ' perspective... imagine being Hermione sending Harry back to 1940s to stop Tom and then just to see him in Hogwarts: a History like "professor Harry Evans Riddle, the school's Defense against the dark art professor and his husband: Minister of magic Tom Marvolo Riddle". His picture in the book looks nervous as hell like he understood that he would be bombarded by Hermione when the time comes...

[hpdabbles]

Harry Potter Fanfic Idea: One Change, Two Lives.

I want time travel, Tomarry au, where Harry arrives before Tom goes insane. Before he even goes to Hogwarts.

I want an au where Harry is just two years older than Tom, due to the time magic, regressing his soul into a Potter's squib that was thrown away and is at Wool's orphanage with Tom. One where he steps in cover for Tom's accidental magic. One who explains why Tom sometimes wants to do what he does and curve his more dangerous tendencies.

Where Harry goes out to find Tom Riddle Sr. to see if the man is willing (and able because he had a terrible thing happen to him by Tom's mother) to take Tom in. He finds that Riddle Sr. is still struggling with what happened to him but is willing to at least provide for his son, even if he can't stand the sight of him sometimes without panic.

Harry remains anonymous in his role of reuniting the Riddles. When Tom is taken out of Wools into a stable home that has a somewhat distant but loving father, kind grandmother, and proud grandfather, he slowly starts to go from being afraid of dying to being scared of letting them down.

He still has some mental issues, but he's no longer dangerous. His father is coming around and, with Harry's help, has repaired his image with the town. They set it up that the Gaunts were illegally stealing from a Riddle water well on the far end of their property, where Riddle Sr. would be the only one to drink out of after riding his horses.

The well was supposedly contaminated because the Gaunts kept using a bucket made of silver, and that caused "madness". This is years later, but Tom eventually finds out Harry saved his father's image.

Tom sees Harry as this hero-like figure, and when he comes to Hogwarts, he finds that Harry is a popular Gryffindor. Because Harry remained at Wools Orphanage, seeing as the Potters had obliviated the potter squib he took over, he changed his name to Harry Evans and pretended to be a muggle-born.

He is one of the most talented muggle-borns to ever step into Hogwarts, and he makes the Potters sweat because he looks so familiar. They just can't tell where. (The Squib had been seven. He looks different now at eleven when he came back).

As a third-year, he's even Quidditch Captain of the Gryffindor team, and literally half the school is in love with him.

Tom Riddle, who has changed enough to be a hat stall, eventually goes to Ravenclaw because his desire for knowledge for knowledge's sake is significantly larger than his ambition in this timeline. He also discovers that in the Wizarding world, gender norms and views on sexuality are so much different than the muggle ones.

He found out that his having a crush on the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain is not an odd thing. Just a different preference and a few of the boys in Ravenclaw have the same opinion as him.

It takes him until the end of his first year to admit it, though.

Meanwhile, Harry decides to try the theory of "nature vs nurture" and live a normal life while Riddle Sr. deals with Tom. He figures that he will take him out if Tom is still a dark lord after having a different childhood.

He also swore off dating, much to the pain of many young mages. Harry had broken so many hearts that Albus Dumbledore side-eyed him, thinking of him as evil, but Harry finds that before he was the headmaster and hero of the war, Dumbledore didn't have much power over him.

If anything, he reminded him of Snape's potion class.

He just isn't prepared for Tom being....a regular teenager. One that is annoyingly open about his crush on him and, over the years, attempts to woo Harry.

Basically, a time travel Au that leads to Tom and Harry's entire relationship is like this:

Of course, after Hogwarts, Harry can't help himself, so he joins the war and, surprisingly, is the one to take down Gellert Grindelwald after taking his education seriously. He becomes the new professor at Hogwarts to become Headmaster.

He took Dumbldore's future since Dumbldore sacrificed his past.

Tom, meanwhile, is busy preparing to take over the Earlship from his father and chooses to focus his obsession with old magic and historical artifacts to become a magical archaeologist.

He's accredited for being the one to find the Hogwarts Founders' four artifacts. Tom uses this fame to search Hogwarts for the Chamber of Secrets- he knows where it is. It's just an excuse to flirt with Headmaster Evans.

[aethon-recs]

This Week (x2) in Tomarrymort (16 – 31 March 2025)

We are so close to 16,000 fics in the ship tag, up from 15,000 in just December 2024!

Also, I’ve been loving this recent spate of same-age F/F Tomarry fics popping up, particularly all the AUs of other beloved media, with a lesbian twist! They’ve all been so fun to read! I started making a list for myself to keep track of all the different AUs, and figured I should share them here too:

⭐ Want some Mean Girls-inspired Tomarry? I urge you to read apex predator by @houndsofheaven (E, 7k, WIP) ⭐ What about Heathers-inspired Tomarry? Please check out an asteroid that's overdue by @cealesti (M, 4k, WIP) ⭐ Timeline mashup AU? Yes please! The Good Knight by @mosiva (E, 49k, WIP) ⭐ As for a college AU, what could be more terrifying than Tom as a Delta Ep in the devil wears sorority letters by @aitafrog (T, 8k, WIP) ⭐ Medieval lesbian Tomarry based off an 18th century poem? A beautiful offering in a star hath set by @curioushabitforarivergod (E, 3k, complete)

*

Tomarrymort Completed Fics

Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 60k, complete)

"I—I like you. For some reason. I dunno. It sounds… I know how it sounds. But—I do. I like you, Tom. And I was hoping you'd let me come see you over the summer, or—y'know, write to you." Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him.

you try so loud to love me, I cannot seem to hear by @boyneptunee (M, 7k, complete)

Tom thinks his husband is only in it for the money. Harry, on the other hand, tries to build a Home. Or: Modern!Au where they get married out of convenience. It backfires, obviously. OR: They collide like two burning stars and destroy everything in their path. Then they try to build a life on the dust that settles.

penance by @cindle-writes (E, 11k, complete) 

Tom Riddle suffers from constant intrusive thoughts about killing people. His priest, Father Harry, wonders when is the day he’ll snap and go too far.

*

Tomarrymort One-Shot Must Reads 

One Shot | a star hath set by @curioushabitforarivergod

One Shot | To Live is to Change by @mosiva

One Shot | Pom-Poms & Perverts by @known-concepts

One Shot | disturbing the peace by @duplicitywrites

One Shot | soft edges, burning wild by @cindle-writes

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Must Reads

Chapter 39 of With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally

Chapter 21 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapters 23 through 28 of the whole wideness of the night is for you by The_Side

Chapters 17 through 19 of thimble of the banshee by @houndsofheaven

Chapters 23 and 24 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3

Chapter 3 of for i am with you by @solelyseeking

Chapter 27 of What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes

Chapter 1 of Indecent Harvest by @duplicitywrites @moontearpensfic

Chapters 7 through 9 of Follow where she goes by @mosiva

Chapters 6 and 7 of exitium by @leafsandstarlight

Chapter 1 of i put a spell on you by @ohyondermemphis

Chapters 23 through 25 of you speak of the devil (like he's not your friend) by @amuria

Chapters 5 through 8 of Hold me as I drown by @smolangryslytherin

Chapter 3 of Under the Dreaming Dark by @aglassroseneverfades

Chapter 2 of the devil wears sorority letters by @aitafrog

Chapters 1 and 2 of angel on a satellite by @houndsofheaven

Chapter 11 of the night is cold in the kingdom by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 12 of Fool me once by @holaolla1

Chapter 148 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 1 of Augurey's Glass by anonymous

Chapter 1 of let the world come at you love by @boyneptunee

Chapter 26 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapters 15 and 16 of Part Two - To Grow a Heart by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 2 of Ouroboros by @allthesmilesxo

Chapter 76 of I Can't Carry This Anymore by lemonchase

Chapters 16 of Venom or Valor by @lightningant

Chapter 1 of an asteroid that's overdue by @cealesti

Chapter 12 of Dreams Beyond Blood by @hikarimeroperiddle

Chapter 1 of Take Any Form by @rowena-rain

*

[noxxytocin]

Quill Me Softly - Tom Riddle x Harry Potter

⊹ pairing: tom riddle x harry potter | tomarry

⊹ rating: mature - 18+ only | MDNI

⊹ tags: professor tom riddle, gay panic, mind reading, teacher/student dynamic, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, AU, friction/rubbing.

⊹ word count: 1.6k

└────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘

summary: on april fool’s day, harry swaps professor riddle’s quill with a charmed one that lets him hear the man’s thoughts. it was supposed to be a prank. it becomes something else entirely.

There were two types of students at Hogwarts come April 1st: the ones who caused utter mayhem, and the poor sods who gulped down trick sweets and spent weeks croaking like toads in heat.

Harry Potter found himself somewhere in the middle. Never quite as sly as the Weasley twins, nor half as rambunctious as Peeves, but clever enough to cause a proper ruckus when he fancied. And this year? Oh, he had a very particular bone to pick. Had a very special target in mind.

Professor Riddle.

It wasn’t the man's brilliance—though, admittedly, his was keen enough to make anyone feel like a downright dimwit. No, it was that insufferable, 'I’m better than you and I know it' smugness that made you want to hex him just for breathing.

Tom was impossibly young for a professor. No one knew how he’d landed the job, but Harry was fairly certain it had something to do with that pompous little academic pin he always wore.

The man didn’t bother with robes. No, he stalked the halls in slacks and blinding white shirts with sleeves rolled up high. His waistcoats? Always pristine, likely charmed—or verbally threatened—not to wrinkle. Harry hadn’t proved it yet, but he had his suspicions. He was also maddeningly punctual and far too bloody observant for Harry’s liking.

In short: Harry hated him.

Which is exactly why, at the ungodly hour of six o’clock, Harry had crept into the DADA classroom like a man on a mission and swapped out Professor Riddle’s prized silver-nibbed quill for a lookalike. Not just any quill—a charmed one.

Nothing fancy. Just a neat little spell that’d funnel the man’s every thought straight into Harry’s skull the moment his fingers so much as grazed it.

A stroke of genius, really—if Harry did say so himself.

“Do you think it’ll actually work?” Ron asked, glancing nervously toward the front of the room as the trio settled into class.

“It’ll work,” Harry smirked. “It better work. That quill cost me a week of migraines.”

Hermione huffed. “If you get caught, I’m not lying for you.”

In walked Riddle, precisely on time. As always.

The chatter in the room died instantly.

He was dressed in grey slacks, a white top buttoned to the collar, and a black waistcoat. His gloomy tie, naturally, matched his eyes. He crossed the classroom, and the girls (and boys) straightened in their seats. Even the portraits took note.

Riddle reached his desk, sighed deeply, adjusted his coiffed curls, and picked up the quill. Finally. Then he started writing. Not on the board, of course. That would be messy. No, Riddle waved his quilled hand like a maestro and the words began to float mid-air before etching themselves neatly onto the blackboard behind him. Because naturally, the man was too good for chalk dust.

Harry waited, watching the quill twirl.

Bloody hell, my toe. That damn bedpost again. Treacherous furniture. I ought to blast it to bits.

Harry snorted, quickly clapping a hand over his mouth.

Riddle froze. His quill stopped mid-swipe.

He turned around slowly.

“…Is there something you wish to share with the class, Mr. Potter?”

Harry cleared his throat. “No, sir. Nothing.”

Riddle raised a brow. “Nothing? How fortunate for us all.”

Potter’s grinning like he’s just won a game of wizard’s chess. That can’t possibly be good...

Then, he set the quill down, and Harry’s stomach did a little flip. No, no, no, don’t put it down, he thought.

Tom walked away from his desk like he had all the time in the world to torture Harry.

“This morning,” he began, “we’ll be covering water-dwelling beings. Specifically, the Grindylow. And, naturally, how one might defend oneself against such a creature.”

Harry huffed, slumping back in his seat.

“Who can tell me where Grindylows are most commonly found?”

Hermione’s hand sprung up as quick as a hare.

Riddle scanned the class, hoping another student would speak up for once. But alas, no one did, he sighed dramatically. Hand, tragically, forced.

“Yes, miss Granger...”

“In weed beds of freshwater lakes and marshes,” Hermione said, practically glowing. “Only ever tamed by merpeople, Grindylows are known to be very territorial and aggressive. They attack anyone who trespasses in their territory.” She paused, clearly enjoying the sound of her voice. “In their natural habitat, they—"

“Granger,” Riddle interrupted, raising a hand to silence her. “I believe I asked for a brief answer, not an entire essay.”

Hermione blinked but refused to be deterred. “I was just explaining that—”

“That will be all. I believe we’ve all absorbed your... insight.” Riddle’s eyes browsed the desks. "Mr. Potter, would you care to contribute anything of substance?”

Harry shrugged. He was pretty sure he’d been through this exact drill before.

“Um… they have a lot of teeth,” he said.

Some girls giggled behind him.

“Fascinating,” Riddle said. “Do let me know when your observations evolve beyond the anatomical obvious.”

The class erupted into snickers—quickly stifled, of course, because no one wanted to be vaporized by Riddle. He swept back to his desk, retrieved the quill, and resumed his floaty little air-writing routine.

Harry’s grin slid back into place.

Granger will surely have a new defense charm invented by the end of class. Honestly, the girl could probably turn a sock into a battle-ready weapon if she tried hard enough.

Harry bit back his smirk, side-eyeing Hermione. She caught his gaze and mouthed, 'What?'

Weasley already looks faint. I haven’t even mentioned drowning yet...

Riddle sighed and adjusted his waistcoat.

“Thanks to the utter lack of hands raised at my question,” he cast, “and Potter’s blatant stupidity, I do believe we shall have ourselves a little pop quiz.” Guilting was Tom's cup of tea.

A collective groan filled the room. Malfoy hissed from the back of the classroom with a, 'Nice going, Potter!'

“I was, of course, going to wait,” Riddle continued, “but it seems some of you need the shock to your systems, don’t you?” His eyes flicked to Harry. With a flick of Tom's wrist, a stack of parchment appeared, floating through the air, and landing on each desk.

Harry eyed his sheet. It was a 30-question, open-ended, no multiple-choice, quiz. Designed by someone who found joy in turning other people’s misery into a pastime. His stomach sank.

It was just him and his brain now.

Potter picked up his quill, hovering over the first question. He stared at it for a moment, but then his eyes darted to Riddle, who had returned to his desk. Now seated behind the podium, fingers tapping lightly against wood, and quill in hand.

Perhaps this will finally humble Potter. If anything can... that boy’s bound to realize he doesn’t know a bloody thing.

Harry’s head jerked up. He stared Riddle down. Bloody bastard. Then, his gaze shifted back to his paper—mind going blank. These questions were impossible.... he peeked over at Hermione, whose quill was a blur as she scribbled through, flipping the pages. Then, he looked down at his quiz again. His teeth sank into his lower lip and he chewed on it, anxiety written all over him.

Potter…damn him...nibbling his lip like that...

Suddenly, Harry’s quill clattered against the desk. Riddle, still reigning supreme behind his podium, shifted a bit, just enough for Harry to catch a glimpse.

As if he’ll get even one right. It's almost adorable how he thinks squinting will summon answers.

Tom then crossed his legs beneath the desk, posture rigid. Harry had forgotten there was a quiz in front of him.

Why was Riddle...thinking about his lips?...

Think about Grindylows. Focus on grading. Think about literally anything else that doesn’t involve Potter.

Harry's green eyes found Riddle again, catching him in the act of rubbing his knees together as if trying to start a fire. Surely he wasn't...no, no way...

Bet he’d be a cheeky thing in bed, wouldn’t he? Defiant, too. With that big mouth of his...

Harry lit alarmingly red, jaw dropping as he scrambled to retrieve his quill. Tom quickly looked away, just as their eyes nearly met.

No, no, no. Get it together. He's a student, and you're a professor with a reputation to uphold...but damn, he shouldn't be looking like that...

Does he have any clue of the effect he has on me?...

Harry felt an unexpected warmth spreading... right down into his trousers. Bloody hell. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to discreetly adjust his cock. Why on earth was he getting all worked up over this??? Was he completely mad?!

He always goes red under pressure...I wonder how he'd look under...different circumstances...

Potter dared a peep at Riddle and their eyes locked, freezing them both. Unbeknownst to Harry, Tom had tactfully slipped a hand between his legs, grazing the fabric of his trousers. He couldn’t resist. He’d surely roast in wizarding hell for this, but damn if it wasn't entirely Potter's fault. Harry was Harry, after all. With those captivating green eyes that cried out for notice. And Riddle? He wanted to shower Harry with the attention he so evidently desired. Fantasized about having Harry properly earn every point, every mark, teaching him...of course.

Ah, Potter...the ways I could cater to your thirst for glory. You haven't the foggiest how you strip back my control...

Suddenly, Harry stood. The whole class halted, their focus shifting to him as he slowly walked toward Professor Riddle's desk.

Riddle’s eyes lifted, watching as Harry approached. Not a word left his lips.

Harry stopped right at the desk, leaned forward, and snatched the quill from Riddle's hand.

Their fingers brushed.

Then, with a face flushed too red and trousers too tight, Harry snapped the quill in two.

The class gasped.

Riddle's eyes narrowed to slits.

“…Potter..."

Harry gulped.

Riddle's lips slowly curved up.

“Detention. Tonight. My office. Seven sharp.”

It was only April 1st.

And the joke, most decidedly, was on Harry this time around. • just a drabble for @clementinesbarn 's april prompts.

[awyeahitssam]

Time travel AU; Tomarry

Harry was seven the first time he appeared.

Tom arrived to him small and trembling, with bare blue fingers and toes. His teeth chattered noisily while hands worked insistently up and down his arms to generate some illusion of heat. It was a rather odd sight, considering it was thirty seven degrees outside and Harry was sweating a bit, himself. Not to mention the boy had just materialized in his supposedly secure hiding spot, without so much as a sound of warning or shimmer about the air. 

Or, you know, walking or running, because that’s how any other child got around.

Harry shook away the thought, pushing himself off the tree stump and letting shredded leaves fall from his grasp. 

The child was looking up, now, glancing around like a frightened rabbit, silver-grey eyes wide and wild. He couldn’t have been more than four years old, which wasn’t that much younger than Harry, but he wasn’t used to being around toddlers. In fact he had never been around anyone smaller than him for more than a few minutes - their parents always rushed them away, thanks to his reputation as the Dursleys' troubled nephew.  

Harry wouldn't let the boy freeze because his parents would be mad they'd spoken. Not that they would be angry at the boy, mind: it was Harry that always got into trouble for such things. He would be fine.

(And no, Harry wasn’t at all resentful. Really.)

Dilemma solved, Harry stepped forward resolutely and wrapped his arms around the trembling child. The boy stood stiff and unresponsive, tremors still wracking his form. Harry was a whole head taller than him; from this close he could see what appeared to be snow melting atop night-dark curls.

Harry blinked in surprise. He had thought the boy had been locked in a freezer, with how cold he was, but snow in July? 

Where was it cold this time of year? 

Sweden? 

Antarctica? 

Iceland? 

Did the boy even speak English? 

Harry knew that if you wished hard enough you could escape a place: after all, he had ended up across the schoolyard four days ago, on the school roof of all places! But maybe this boy had gone further? 

“All right?" Harry asked, going to pull away, but the boy suddenly began clinging to him, head pressing forward into his chest.

What did parents call their kids to comfort them? Aunt Petunia always said “Duddums,” or “Dudders,” but those were just nicknames. Maybe… 

“Uh, it’s okay, d-darling?”

The boy stilled again, sniffling once and looking up with narrowed eyes, as if he thought Harry was making fun of him. Maybe only adults called people that? Oh God, Harry had no idea what he was doing. This was his first hug, after all… 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he tried again. “We’ll get you home, so you’ll be all right. With your, uh, parents and stuff. Don’t cry, please.”

Well, that was more begging than reassuring, probably, but Harry had no clue what he was doing here. He’d never had to comfort anyone a day in his life!

“I wasn’t crying!” The boy denied, shoving himself away from Harry fiercely even though he was still quivering and unnaturally pale. “And I don’t have any parents.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry raised his hands defensively, ready to spring back if the boy lashed out again. When people got angry with him it rarely went well. “Um, I don’t either. Have parents, that is. And I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 

Harry wasn’t going to apologize for it. He had to do enough of that at the Dursley’s, and he had only been trying to help, besides. Still, he knew how frustrating it was when parents got brought up. The reminder that he was an orphan, trapped with the Dursley’s for a very long time to come, was far from comforting. 

“Just another orphan, then,” the boy said dismissively. Harry didn’t bother being offended, as it was the truth, though that tone was a bit... 

“I suppose,” Harry said. “You’re still cold, aren’t you? Let’s move out of the shade.” 

The boy squinted at him suspiciously, but nonetheless followed when Harry led the way to a nearby rock and gently pressed him to sit on it. He kneeled on the dead, brown grass and eyed blue fingers and bare toes worriedly.

“That’s not good,” he whispered. Harry reached out to the other boy slowly, as though he were a wild animal, and the child jerked away.

“What are you doing?”

“They’re blue,” Harry frowned. “Just - let me -” 

Harry took the boy's hands in his own and brought them to his mouth, breathing hot air onto them. The boy made a mildly disgusted sound and made to move back, but Harry held tight, rubbing to create heat through friction. 

He felt gross and sweaty, and frankly the cool of the boy’s hands was a relief on such a day, but mostly he was worried. He knew, vaguely, of hypothermia, and he didn't want the boy’s fingers to fall off.  

The boy glared at Harry, but didn't try to pull away again, though he watched his every movement rather suspiciously. That wasn't anything new to Harry, of course. Everybody found him suspicious. 

“Where am I?” The child demanded, after a long period of silence in which they were essentially holding hands. 

“We’re at a park in Little Whinging, Surrey.” 

“Surrey? I was just in London…”

Harry frowned back. “Are you sure? It's not snowing in London.”

“It was five minutes ago,” the boy said firmly, crossing his arms. 

“In July?” Harry murmured, incredulous. 

“I'm not lying,” the boy said coolly, though the effect of his glare was somewhat ruined by the shivers still wracking his body. “And it's February, besides.”

“I didn't say you were lying,” Harry huffed. “Just that you’re wrong. It's July 30th.”

The boy frowned, glancing from the sun high in the sky to the brown grass. He seemed at a loss, eyes flitting around as if trying to find something to refute Harry’s claim.

Harry watched him, considering. 

“My name is Harry,” he said. “What’s yours?”

The boy blinked at him. “Tom,” he said. “Tom Riddle.”

...

Harry was in the astronomy tower, legs dangling over the edge, eyes looking towards the ground. His companion arrived as suddenly as always, the only announcement of his presence the prickling at Harry’s neck.

“...Harry?” 

He turned with a tired smile, faltering only slightly when he noted what Tom was wearing. A slightly oversized version of the Hogwarts uniform hung over his small frame, a silver and green tie smoothed on his neck. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Harry asked, falling to his knees beside the bright-eyed boy. Tom wasn’t crying, but his eyes were burning with something like anger and loneliness and despair. It took Harry a moment, but when he caught sight of the bruise marring Tom’s face he felt his breath catch in his chest.

“You—who—how dare—!” Harry couldn’t seem to bring himself to coherence, so instead he shut his mouth and carefully tilted Tom’s chin to get a better look at the mark. It was large, spanning from his right cheekbone to eyebrow: a mottled, puce discoloration that never should have touched on Tom’s strong features. 

Tom allowed Harry to maneuver him without complaint, eyes wide and hungry as they took him in.

“Even at Hogwarts,” the younger boy murmured, smaller hand reaching out, brushing against Harry’s cheek. 

Harry couldn’t help the soft look that overcame him, despite the anger boiling, wrathful, in his gut at the sight of Tom’s injury. “I’m glad,” he said softly. “I’d rather not go ten months without seeing you, Tom.” 

Though truly it hadn’t been so long for Harry. After all, hadn’t he seen Lord Voldemort rise only a few months ago?

But no. This was Tom, his first friend, the first person he’d thought to protect, not a single trace of serpent in his visage.

This was Tom, with one of his eyes half swollen shut.

Harry didn’t know any healing charms, but he had taken to carrying around the salve Hermione made for his hand. He unscrewed the lid and gathered more than was probably necessary, the goop thick on his fingers. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” 

Tom tilted his head, not wary but measuring, and Harry held his gaze until the boy’s shoulders loosened and he nodded.

Once upon a time, Lord Voldemort had been capable of trust. Theoretically it was a hard thing to grasp, but in practice it just made something in Harry’s chest melt.

Harry massaged the salve in gently, careful not to get too close to Tom’s eye. He was nearly done by the time Tom gasped, jerking away.

It must have started tingling.

“That’s…” 

“Strange?” Harry smiled at him. “Yeah. Hold still, you’ll need a bit more to help with the swelling.” 

“Why do you have this?” Tom asked, even as he obediently shut his eyes and swayed forward. “Have you been getting into fights, Harry?” 

How strange, the way Tom said his name now, compared to the way he would one day, in a dark, dreary graveyard.

Harry laughed off the comparison, laughed so he didn’t retreat back to misery, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead. To the place that he would one day mark Harry.

“Always,” he smirked, pulling back to catch sight of Tom’s wide-eyed look. He screwed the lid back on the salve, wiping his fingers on his robe and slipping it back into his pocket. “Now, are you just going to sit there gaping all night, or would you like to learn how to defend yourself with magic?” 

Tom opened his mouth, probably in protest against that gaping remark, but closed it before saying anything and nodding his assent.

Harry drew his wand, a wand Tom had only seen a handful of times, and he couldn’t help the way his muscles tensed. Harry didn’t mention it.

“Protego,” he enunciated, making the motion with his wand a bit slower than he might otherwise.

“That’s a fifth year spell,” Tom pointed out.

“One that you’ll master,” Harry agreed cheerily. “Unless you want to be tickled to death.” 

It would have been more logical to use some sort of pain as motivation - such as a stinging hex - but Harry, Tom knew, did not want to hurt him. Still, he could deal with pain. Given his age, Harry was expected to be stronger than him, to be able to harm him. And to Tom, it would be far more humiliating to be reduced to helpless giggles.

Harry knew him too well, to play on his pride like this.

Tom found he didn’t mind

It took time, but Tom did manage to conjure the shield charm. 

Only when Harry flicked his wand the spell broke through, and Tom fell to the ground in peels of laughter. Harry held the enchantment for a long moment, watching grey eyes come alive with mirth, small body wriggling, before he waved his wand in a silent counter.

“Don’t rely on your shield alone,” Harry instructed. “You may be strong, but you’re still a first year, which means somebody else is stronger.” 

As if he needed the reminder, Tom mused bitterly, hand jerking a bit as he fought the urge to prod at his tingling bruise. Harry didn’t mention his short, derisive laugh. 

“What did you do when somebody tried to hit you at the orphanage? Dodged. It doesn’t matter that you have a wand, and spells; those aren’t the only tools available to you. You have a body - use it!”

In a way Tom appreciated the way Harry never sugarcoated anything. On the other hand, mere mention of the orphanage infuriated him. If not for the fact that Harry had been bullied himself, Tom might have held a grudge. As it was he knew Harry understood him, and what he went through. Knew that he was only mentioning that rotten place to draw a comparison and not degrade him. 

He didn’t get impatient when Tom’s second attempt failed, or his third and fourth, nor did he relent in his assault. He was strangely inspirational, Tom thought. He was encouraging, but had high expectations, and he seemed used to teaching. His patience went far further than Tom’s own extended, and he had no trouble explaining things a different way when his words didn’t click for Tom. 

But then, Tom almost instinctively knew what Harry meant. They were connected, in some odd, impossible way. 

Tom’s cheeks had burned in embarrassment when he discovered that there was no such thing as soulmates, even in the magical world. He had been so sure.

…

“You’ve gone pale.”

Tom looked down to his fading fingers with a scowl. 

“I want to spend more than a measly two hours with you,” he said, gripping the front of Harry’s robes as though it would prevent their time from coming to an end. 

“I know, darling,” Harry murmured, running a hand through his night-dark curls. “Just remember that I'm very proud of you, all right? I care for you, and that accounts for the decades we have to spend apart.”

“Harry, have I found you yet?” Tom whispers. The question hangs in the darkness, but before Harry can formulate a response Tom vanishes from his arms. 

…

“Hello darling,” Harry smiles, rather taken with the blush that lights Tom’s nose and the tips of his ears. “When are we?”

“31st of December, 1940.”

“Happy birthday, then. How does it feel to be fourteen?”

“No different than thirteen, I’d imagine,” Tom replies. 

“No?” Harry’s eyes glint wickedly. “Let’s see if we can’t brighten your day. Have you ever been ice skating, Tom?”

Tom blinked at him, eyebrows pulling together. “No,” he responds. “Have you?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Something in Tom thrills at the reckless grin Harry levels him with. “We can try together, yeah? The Black Lake should be frozen over, and I know a few spells if not. The grounds should be abandoned at this time, especially considering it’s break.”

Tom stares incredulously for a moment longer, before shaking his head. “It’s past curfew, Harry. Even if it’s a holiday, I can’t be caught outside and still be chosen as a prefect next year.”

“Let’s not get caught, then,” Harry says softly, eyes sparking. 

Tom takes him in for a moment, and lets out a long sigh - mostly for show, mind you. Being cooped up in the Common Room, staring out at the Black Lake was hardly what Tom wished to be doing, regardless of the days. “Only you, Harry Potter, could talk me into doing such a thing. You’d better be practised with cushioning charms.”

A warm hand comes to grip Tom’s, pulling him towards the door. “We won’t need them,” Harry says, sounding rather assured. “You’re ridiculously graceful, so I expect you to catch me if I start to fall.” 

Harry, it turns out, is far better at keeping his balance on the slick surface. But the older boy takes both of his hands, slowly skidding backwards, balancing him so he won’t fall. And Tom is sure that when he does, he takes Harry with him.

…

Tom is standing on the balcony. Harry looks him over, absently checking for injuries. 

“You look posh,” he says, surprised. The last time he had seen Tom, he was still in second hand robes, though judging by his appearance it had been nearly a year - or an abrupt growth spurt. 

“Harry,” Tom breathes out, and all of the irritation in his posture and face smooth out as he turns and catches sight of him. Something like excitement brightens the air around him, and he reaches out, catching Harry’s sleeve and drawing him close. “You’re really here.”

“I am,” Harry smiles. “Have I kept you waiting?”

“Rather,” Tom sniffs. “It’s been nearly a year. You’ve chosen a rather poor venu, though; the Malfoy’s annual Yule Ball.”

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “I suppose you’ll need to get inside and schmooze with the purebloods.” 

“That is the point in me attending,” Tom agreed lightly. “But the ball is already halfway over, and I’ve met plenty of important people already. You could join me for a dance…” 

“Inside?” Harry asked, surprised. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom… if anybody but you sees me, I’m afraid of what’ll happen.”

“The music’s loud enough,” Tom offers. There’s something almost hesitant in his eyes, Harry notes. A very rare thing, for Tom is most always sure of himself. “We can dance here.” 

Harry smiles, drawing Tom’s hand into his own. “All right, but don’t be mad if I step on your toes. You’ve asked for it.”

Tom’s eyes glint. A smirk curls his lips. “Oh my,” he says, stepping close as one hand finds Harry’s waist and the other intertwines their fingers. “Have we found something I’m better at?” 

Harry snorted. “You’re better at loads,” he said, stumbling a step back when Tom begins their dance. “I’ve got nearly three years on you at the moment, and I’m positive your spell knowledge well exceeds mine.”

Tom quirks a brow. “Perhaps if you studied more?”

Harry smiled. “I started studying seriously in my Fourth year. You, however, have been at it from your First.”

“Shall we duel?”

“I’d rather we never cross wands,” Harry says lightly, but his eyes have gone dark. He grips Tom a bit tighter, posture straightening. Tom’s nearly a head shorter, like this. “This is hard to do backwards.”

“Then lead.”

Tom’s words had been half-teasing, but when Harry takes control of the dance things smooth out rather quickly. He’s clearly at least practiced in this part, and twirls Tom around the balcony without much trouble.

“There you are,” Tom says into his neck, “No more stepping on me.” 

Harry huffs a laugh, one hand rising from Tom’s waist to brush through his hair. The motion is soothing, half-remembered from the last time Tom had a fever. He leans deeper into Harry. He would join them together if he could; make them intrinsic, never able to be torn apart, not even by time. 

“I miss you,” Tom admits, like it’s a dark secret. “When you’re gone, I miss you, Harry. I’ve never missed anybody else.” 

Harry’s throat tightens. His hand continues its careful strokes, and they’ve stilled in their dancing. They sway in place.

“I wish we could be like this forever,” Harry says in turn, secret traded for secret. 

Tom makes a noise in his throat, something almost needy, and clings harder, nails digging into Harry’s robe. “Don’t leave,” he demands. “Stop leaving me.” 

Harry sighs. “I can’t,” he says. “You know I can’t, Tom.”

Tom pulls back, meeting his eyes. His face is flushed from the cold, eyes gleaming with a fierce longing. Something in Harry aches in answer.

“Let’s sit,” Harry says softly. “The sky is beautiful here.”

Tom nods, but hardly lets them pull apart. They sit, limbs tangling, but instead of staring at the stars Tom stares at Harry. Harry pretends not to notice.

An hour later, only the lingering warmth of Tom’s palm proves he was ever there at all.

…

The next time Tom appears it’s in Harry’s time. The situation is less than ideal; it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, and there's an attack.

But Tom does not know the context. All he knows when he appears is that Harry is flushed, breathing hard, back pressed against a building. And Tom does not freeze like Harry sometimes does at the abrupt displacement, but strides towards Harry with a familiar determination.

It’s the look Lord Voldemort gets when he’s decided to kill Harry.

But instead, Tom presses him tighter against the building. Searches his face. And then he pushes their mouths together, lips moving insistently against Harry’s own, almost desperate to provoke a reaction. 

Apparently deciding to kiss and kill Harry inspires the same look.

There’s a moment when Harry wants, but then he pulls away, the rejection gentled by the way he cradles Tom’s cheek. 

“Tom, I -”

Harry's eyes flick up from Tom’s, catching a movement,  and his hands drop as though burned. He’s quick to grab Tom by the hips and switch their positions, putting his body between Tom and Voldemort as he took in the tall, serpentine Lord. 

Voldemort’s smile was a cruel, mirthless thing. “Playing house with one of my horcruxes, Harry? How… unexpected.”

Harry swallowed. So Voldemort didn’t know, then -  he didn’t remember, though Harry had figured as much. 

“Tom, stay behind me and avoid his eyes.” 

“Harry, who—”

“Please, Tom!”

Tom stepped back, but he didn’t move quickly enough to avoid a bolt of purple light.

‘Bugger,’ Harry thought, body jerking in front of Tom instinctively, taking the hit. 

The spell has no evident effect beyond freezing him in place, and a strongly thought Finite Incantatum saw him free. Still, Harry did not shift; he would use any advantage he could get, and Voldemort thinking him helpless was certainly an advantage.

“What shall I do with you now, Harry?” Voldemort hissed, a demented smile pulling his lips up. 

“Avada Ked—“

“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried. Tom’s wand flew from his hand, smacking Harry’s palm. Well, so much for that plan. “Expelliarmus!”

“Crucio.”

The spells slammed together and the magic splintered, the wand's magic dying as it recognized it was being turned against itself. 

Voldemort’s eyes burned. “How do you have that wand?”

Harry watched him carefully, backing up until his hip pressed against Tom. He pressed the yew wand into warm hands, not daring to take his eyes off Voldemort to see his expression. 

Tom inhaled sharply, and he was too clever to not connect the dots. When he spoke his voice was torn between horror and fury. “There’s no way.”

“You need to go,” Harry hissed back. “Now.” 

“We haven’t exactly figured out how to control it—”

“Tom,” Harry snapped. The other teen quieted, and Harry heard fabric shift. “Repeat after me: lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

“Harry—”

“Do you want to die?” 

There was a long pause. A hand pressed over Harry’s spine, almost too hard to be a comfort. 

“Lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

The air shifted, and the warm pressure of spindly fingers against Harry’s back melted away. 

Harry and Voldemort stared each other down from across a field.

“It seems,” Voldemort hissed, “we have much to discuss, Harry.”

[profoundmakerdreamerss-blog]

Tomarry AU where Harry knows everything but it's not because he is a time traveller, neither because he is a seer —

Pages and words have always been Harry's best friend. Living inside a cupboard did not help with his obsession. Rather, it was due to those pages that he survived. (He was 14 when he got his room instead of a bloody cupboard to sleep in.). The library was the only place Harry was able to hide from Dudley before they were sent to different schools.

When he was fourteen, and hiding from Dudley in the public library (he was mad that his gaming room was given to him.) he ends up reading a book he came to like very much.

It was a book about an orphan boy (like him.) who ends up going to this magic world (oh, how Harry wished) but sadly Tom ended up being hated there as well. Harry was awed by Tom's strength, but also angry (at the world how they let Tom down.) and angry at Tom for destroying himself to destroy what hurt him (or maybe he was angry at himself for not being able to do the same, maybe he was angry that he couldn't save Tom —) Harry was fourteen and it would seem he was angry at a lot of things.

(—that day Harry punched Dudley back after Dudley hit him. He didn't get to eat for a week straight.)

Jealousy is something he never let himself feel, because it wasn't a privilege he was given — not really. But one thing he was jealous of was the fact that Tom got to fly. (Harry wondered some nights — hungry and unable to sleep — what would he do if he got a magic letter? Would he have friends? How nice it would be to get to eat 3 times a day — how nice it would be to just fly away.).

Harry Potter loved Tom Riddle. Harry Potter also loved Lord Voldemort. The boy who died to be born as a monster. The boy who swallowed all the hatred so that he could hate the world in return (oh, how Harry wish he could burn down the world too sometimes — how he wish he could just hate hate hate and not care care care; maybe then he would finally stop trying look for approval in his aunt's eyes). Harry knew when started reading the book Tom was as cruel as he was strong. And he knew as he read the text, there would come a day Tom would burn the world like he was also burned. Even though he didn't agree with Tom's decisions most of the time he knew Tom. So yes, Harry Potter might not agree with Voldemort but he still loved him. And he wished that he could tell him that. Wished he could tell the man who was still a boy that wanted a family so bad that he stayed up for hours at night searching, hungry to find any living family there was, hungry for a belonging that he wasn't even deigned in the magic world. He wished he could tell Voldemort that no matter what he became, Harry would love him.

So imagine his surprise when he wakes up in a moving train — right after going to bed (instead of a cake he got a can of soup) the night he turned sixteen. Imagine how surprised as he sat there, in robes that he doesn't remember he ever owned. Imagine him freaking out that he got kidnapped as the door of his train compartment opened, and in came Tom Riddle.

[boyneptunee]

4.6k words, tomarry, modern!Au

(or) Tom Riddle moves to a new apartment building, gets a new neighbour in the form of one Harry Potter and adopts a cat (chaos ensues).

There was an orange cat in front of his door.

There shouldn't be an orange cat in front of his door.

Tom had been bringing boxes left and right, adding the finishing touches to his apartment after the movers had brought in his furniture and unpacked everything for him. He still had a few things left in boxes in Abraxas' home, where he had been staying for the past two weeks, waiting for the papers of his new place to be in order and for the cleaners to come in and get everything ready for him.

And now, there was a cat at his door.

It didn't meow at him, didn't scream and definitely didn't purr. It simply sat there, it's big round face open and piercing yellow eyes staring at his soul, seemly deciding whether or not he was worth it's time.

"Well? Shoo." The cat simply kept looking at him, not moving an inch. He needed to finish unpacking before he could fall face first to his bed. Merlin, he was tired. "Go on, I need to get in." He motioned with his foot, his hands still occupied with a pile of boxes.

The cat's whiskers twitched, but otherwise gave no indication that it had heard him.

Just as he was considering the possibility of yanking the cat out the building by it's scruff, a door at his right opened and a head full of curls poked out.

"Snuffles! Did you get out?" The cat perked up, thrilling at the new person as it bounced to his door, tail up and the tip swinging from side to side. "Hello again, my love." The boy crouched down, long fingers scratching the massive cat's head.

Seemly not taking notice of Tom, he turned around and was about to slam his door shut after the cat went into the apartment, when Tom felt the anger rising and burning through his veins.

"Is that yours?" He spat.

"Oh? Hey." The boy turned, confused.

Tom didn't respond, simply bore cold grey eyes into his face.

The curly haired boy seemed to take in his words, and his face scrunched, indignant.

"Hey! It's not a that! It's a cat. A very lovely cat!" His face scrunched up in anger, cheeks flushed.

"Keep the cat in your apartment, then. I don't need it's filthy paws getting into my things."

The boy ran his eyes up and down his body, eyebrows furrowed before bringing a hand up his face to fix his golden wired round glasses.

"You don't live here." He stated, voice accusing.

"Now I do."

"Oh. Welcome, I guess. Please be kind to Mr. Snuffles." And with that he went back to his apartment and slammed his door non too gently and firmly behind him.

Tom stood stunned in his own doorway, boxes still in his hands.

He would definitely have words with the administration.

 

A few days after moving in, he got added to a group chat.

The group's icon was a picture of the same orange cat, eyes closed and basking in the sun. A yellow flower had been laid on top of it's head.

Surely, that boy–.

His phone pinged with a new notification.

7B: Morning! I leave early today. Anyone on parenting duty?

Tom took one look at the text and assumed the person had confused groups.

Minutes later came a reply.

12C: we in!! 

12C: send him to 12

7B: Going!

A door down the hall from his apartment opened and closed, before Tom heard the familiar sound of the elevator moving.

Just what in the hell was going on?

12C: he has arrived!!

12C: have a good day Mrs McGonagall!!

The text was followed by a picture.

A picture of the cat. 

The orange cat, sitting in a blue couch and looking out a window. To be more exact, out of the window of some apartment in the twelfth floor.

What the hell.

It wouldn't be the last time the cat made an appearance in his life.

There were daily pictures on the group chat, for starters.

There was even a feeding chart on the room just off the lobby with a white board and the days of the week written down, along with three ticks to indicate three meals a day. If someone fed the cat, they ticked off so he wouldn't be fed twice on accident. (The cat itself couldn't be trusted, as he often sat near his bowl and howled at passing people with huge pitying eyes, even if he had been fed twice already. There was a reason he was huge.)

There was colective money set apart by the administration for extraordinary costs, like the elevator breaking down, or the replacement of a cracked window, or new chairs for the lobby, or the expensive purple treats in the front desk, the towering cat scratch post or even the cat tower, the round little bed by the couch on the lobby that wasn't used or the bag of dry food on the janitors closet or the cans upon cans of wet food. Oh! And the meds.

Because the cat had asthma, and he needed his inhaler at least twice a day, everyday for the rest of his life.

It was a juggle trying to get the local cat his meds so regularly when he had no owner.

So, it'd seem the residents had decided early on to leave his medication on one apartment only and give the responsibility to one person.

His neighbour.

Harry Potter, of 7A.

So, no matter where the orange monstrosity was, twice a day he either was brought to the seventh floor to Harry, or Harry himself went out to hunt him down for his daily puffs.

 

It was the end of his second week after moving in, when he was stopped on his way up.

"Hey! Hey, 7C! Hold the doors!" By the time he registered the voice was talking to him, the boy had already ran all the way from the entrence lobby and into the elevator. It was his neighbour. The curly haired one, not the old woman down the hall.

His hair was braided, Tom noted.

"Thanks." He said, even though Tom hadn't even lifted a finger to help. "Hey, do you like spinach?" He asked as they made their way down the hall to their respective apartments.

He didn't answer.

Two days later someone rang his doorbell approximately seven times before he could yank the door open, hair still dripping wet from the shower.

"Hi! I have lasagna." The boy said as a way of greeting, manners be dammed. He pushed the casserole into his hands before disappearing into his apartment. His cheeks had been a lovely shade of pink.

The very next day, it was Tom who was ringing his neighbour's doorbell. Casserole in one hand, cat in the other.

"Hello, lasagna. I have your cat." He dropped both off by the confused looking boy before turning on the spot and disappearing behind the safety of his own walls.

He had been stopped on his way in by an eldery woman he assumed might be the other resident in the seventh floor but could not be sure. She had said that since he was already going up, he should bring the cat in for his daily medication.

 

Before he knew it, and before he could do anything to stop it he was adopted.

Picked right out of the crowd by some odd twenty people and promptly passed from hand to hand before going back to 7A. 

He was given treats, and gifts, and quality time.

And when he needed time alone when he got too overwhelmed or murderous they let him be, but were never far.

The old lady at 7B had a cat of her own he could sit with, while she chatted about her research papers on the laws of physics which she had put off for so long and finally, after retiring had time to delve herself into. He didn't much understand physics but he could understand the need to scratch an itch of interest.

The family up 12 drove him crazy. It was a whole floor taken up by redheads, all in different shades of orange. All freakled and kind and warm and the mom had a thing for giving him piles of knitted cloths. As if he didn't have enough already.

In the first floor, was the apartment he hated the most. A man with long greasy hair and a crooked nose looked down at him every time he walked by, instead of taking the elevator. The odor coming from the creaks between the door and the wall were dreadful.

In the same floor a man with a long white beard and twinkling eyes sagely kept his old crinkled hands to himself.

The boy in the seventh floor had no such reservations.

He kept bringing him food, even though he had his own. Kept giving him gifts, even though he didn't need them. He pet him, held him, sat with him. 

Tom was dismayed.

 

The fifth time Tom appeared by his desk with a prepared, deliciously looking homemade meal in hand Abraxas and Orion had sat him down for an intervention.

"Why didn't you tell us you were dating someone?"

"I'm not."

"–you come in, every single day with a delicious looking homemade meals in cute tupperware–"

"I'm not dating anyone, Abraxas."

"–and little handrawn notes of orange cats, and really! Tom, how could you we've knowing each other since we were eleven, do you now value our relationship–"

"Are you jealous?" Tom finally cut in, expression bored as he dug into the food. It was really good. Homemade sfihas today, with lemon slices added to the side for extra flavor, and rice to the side in a cute green bowl and cut fruits in shape of animals for snacks. He had even added a single, perfectly round chocolate muffin.

Harry was a saint sent from heaven, Tom thought.

He looked at Abraxas lunch, a pre-prepared meal from down the street, reheated in the offices microwave, all soggy and sad looking with dry vegetables and over salted meat. No dessert.

Did he say saint? Harry was an angel.

 

Living with a cat, coparenting with 20 other people notwithstanding, was a new experience for Tom.

His one and only pet had been a snake, and reptiles were nothing like warm blooded mammals.

He needed pets for no longer than twelve minutes, he mostly ate wet food and he had constant vet visits. He hated his nails being trimmed and he adored Harry with all his cat heart.

On that they were in agreement.

Harry, much like Mr. Snuffles the cat, had carved a place in his heart were previously there was none.

From receiving meals to spending time together to coparenting an orange lazy huge cat, they went from seeing each other every other day to reuniting every single night in Harry's apartment to give Mr Snuffles his medicine and eat dinner.

 

Tom had never had a rutine as healthy as this one he could follow. His life had always revolved around work, and his studies, and being the absolute best at everything he did, always coming out on top.

He could get used to this.

 

He took to buying Harry things. After all, he had more than enough money to spare, what with being a successful lawyer.

Did he say his favourite mug broke? Tom would buy him ten more. His dining table was wobbly? There was a new, better one coming. His mattress was too hard and he couldn't get any sleep as of late? Well, guess what, he got a whole new bed. The drawers of his dresser kept getting stuck? Oh! There was a dark green antique that really matched Harry's pretty green eyes in the store, who would have known!

Sadly, buying Harry things had extended to buying Mr Snuffles his toys, cat bed, new cute jumpers and most importantly: his meds.

All it had taken for Tom to cave in had been the sad eyes of two boys, one pair green and one pair yellow and Tom had ordered more than enough to last them the whole year.

 

When arriving from work well past midnight one day, he found at least five people arguing in the hallway by the elevators.

Tom's tired brain could not pick the topic of the discussion for the life of him. A headache had been steadily making it's way around and behind his eyes.

He called for the elevator, eyes closed as he leaned on the wall, the arguing not letting up.

A hand landed on his arm, touch gentle. When he opened his eyes he found big green orbs gazing worriedly at him from beneath long black lashes.

"Long day?" Tom simply nodded, english language going out the window. Harry nodded back, and by the time the elevator arrived Tom had leaned back into the wall, a hand still on his arm. The voices bouncing around the hallway were making his head pound worse.

The boy guided him into the elevator and quietly pressed the button to the seventh floor.

He was moved from side to side before a door was opened and a hand pushed him into a dark apartment, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner of the room. He was prompted to sit on a couch.

He tilted his head back as he rubbed his eyes. God, it was possibly the worst migraine he'd had in years.

A couple seconds later a cold wet towel was pressed to his face, and a heavy warm weight was dropped on his lap.

"Do you take anything?" Harry asked lowly, and even thought he was trying to be gentle his voice still rattled around Tom's brain as if he had shouted the question right in his ears. When he didn't answer, a hand landed on his thigh. "Tom?"

"Yes." He croaked. Right, the meds. But for the life of him he wouldn't be able to walk now that he'd sat down. He didn't know how he'd made the ride home from work. Maybe he was still sat in his car. Maybe he was hallucinating.

A hand reached into his suit pocket, where he kept his keys.

"Bedroom." Was all he could muster, but it seemed to be enough for Harry, who was out the door in a flash.

 

Loud purring started somewhere around his belly, and it took him a while before realizing it was not coming from him.

When he could peal one eye open and peer down at his lap, he found Mr Snuffles comfortably loafing on him, paws perfectly tucked beneath it's body and purring it's little heart out.

The purring was his only company.

Agonizing minutes went by, before Harry burst into the room with his tablets in hand.

He took them dry and prayed it would be enough to at least subside the pounding behind his eyes.

What seemed to be an eternity later, he could feel the pain receding. When he could open his eyes without piercing needles flying from the inside out, he found Harry crouched between his legs, long fingers petting Mr Snuffles.

"Harry." His own voice sounded hoarse to his ears. Just how long had Harry been waiting for his headache to pass?

"Hey." His smile was small, gentle on his face. His eyes were still big and worried. "Feeling better?" Tom hummed, "Do you wanna lay down? I'll make something to eat." At his raised eyebrows he added, "Don't look at me like that, I'm a hundred percent sure you haven't eaten dinner. I'll make something light, I promise."

"Laying down sounds good."

"Good."

And before he could tilt sideways onto the couch, his arms were grabbed as he was helped to his feet. He couldn't even process the entire situation before he fell face first into Harry's bed.

He was out like a light, not even processing the familiar warm eight settling on his back and the little motor starting up once again.

 

What seemed to be not enough time later, Harry woke him up.

"You have to eat, love. And Mr. Snuffles needs his meds too." When Tom groaned and made no move to get up, he insisted. "C'mon, just a couple of bites. I promise I'll let you sleep as long as you want afterwards."

The weight at his back was removed, and he was helped to a sitting position by the headboard before a tray full of food was placed on his lap.

"I'm taking Snuffles up to eleven, I'm pretty sure they have his inhaler."

"Isn't it late?"

"Yeah, but someone decided it would be a good idea to post on the group chat– didn't you hear all the fighting on the lobby?" At Tom's blank face, Harry nodded in understanding. "Well, anyway, we didn't get anything resolved. I just took the cat and Mr. Snuffles and here we are." 

It took a couple of seconds for the words to sink in.

Tom's grey blue eyes bore into Harry's mischievous green ones.

"Don't look murderous. Eat, I cooked for you." And with that, he hugged the cat close to his body before going out the door to hunt down Mr Snuffles' inhalers.

Tom looked down to the food in front of him. Suddenly he was ravenous.

Harry wouldn't let him leave, after. 

First, going on about, what if Tom got another migraine and he couldn't get up to eat or even open the door and– and when Tom's blank face was his only answer, he changed tactics.

Harry would be so, so worried! He simply wouldn't be able to sleep out of worry! All night, tossing and turning, his little heart racing and his stomach clamping in anxiety, green lovely eyes filling with tears, just thinking about–

 

It was possibly the best sleep he got in years. Harry laying at his side, warm body chasing out the cold. Both of them snuggled beneath a pile of comfortable heavy blankets, and Mr. Snuffles settled between their heads by the pillows.

The migraine didn't come back.

 

"My coworkers think we are dating." He said conversationally one night while they were having dinner.

"Your friends, Tom. You've known each other since you were little sprouts."

A beat passed between them, the sound of cutlery against the ceramic their only companion.

"Dating!?" Harry's face turned a lovely shade of pink, green eyes wide behind his glasses. "I mean–"

"Objectively speaking it would be a wise move. We already share much of our time together."

Harry made a sound at the back of his throat, face turning imposibly redder.

"–and Snuffles gets the responsibility of two working parents–"

"You say it like there aren't at least ten other families in this building at his beck and call–"

"–and of course, there will be always someone in case he has a breathing emergency–"

"Again, really! A whole building –"

"It would please me to know you accept this proposal." Tom finally said.

"I'm sorry, were you asking?" 

"I was stating points, in which–" before he could finish he was interrupted, yet again.

"Ask." His eyes this time were sure, face still flushed but meeting him dead on. "Ask me, Tom Riddle."

"Would you date me?"

The smile he got in response could possibly cure all maladies.

Mr. Snuffles took offence to them sharing a bed.

Most importantly, he took issue with Tom being in Harry's bed.

Since Harry was in charge of his inhaler, and with him needing one puff in the morning and one at night, he more often than not slept in his apartment.

The first night Tom had tried sleeping over, he had been attacked, scratched and bitten, meowed at and had it been physically possible, possibly spat at too.

Harry had laughed so hard he had fallen off the bed.

"Maybe it's best we send him down the hall. I'm sure McGonagall will have no issue having him over."

"You're not kicking the cat out just so we can have sex!"

"Are you putting the cat before me?"

"He was here first."

"He's not the one who's going to eat you out until you cry." 

"I'm not tossing the cat out, Tom. Maybe you two should try to get along."

Alas, nothing Tom said could convince Harry otherwise.

It was going to be the death of him. Death by blue balls, cockblocked by a cat.

 

The thing is, Tom did get along with the cat.

He took no issue with petting, feeding, carrying, playing or helping him catch bugs. In every other situation the cat seemed to love Tom, only ditching him for the clearly superior human that was Harry, when he was in close proximity.

To say that Tom was confused by the cat's behavior would be an understatement.

 

Until Harry got trapped in the elevator.

There was a power outage caused by the storm raging outside.

Tom had heard the banging completely on accident. He was bringing Mr Snuffles down to McGonagall's apartment, who had his emergency medication on hand when Harry wasn't home.

The banging was loud and clear, and coming from the metal doors down the hallway.

Tom did mental calculations. The power had been out for at least an hour.

He hurried down the hall, cat still in his grip, flashlight in the other.

When he was finally by the doors he could hear the muffled breathing on the other side, panicked and short and wet, as if the person had been crying.

"Hello?"

The banging suddenly stopped, the only sound coming from the thunder and the rain hitting the sides of the building.

When no audible answer came from inside, he insisted.

"Is anyone there?"

"Tom?" Harry. That was Harry inside the elevator. His Harry, who had been there for at least an hour. He dropped the cat. Dropped himself to the ground. "Tom!?"

"I'm here, love. Are you okay?" As he spoke, his mind jumped in at least ten different directions. How to get him out? He hadn't been there long enough to need medical attention, by his count. He would be distressed, no doubt. Would the elevator be stuck mid floor? Was it this floor? Above, below?

"I'm–" the panicked breathing picked up. "Can you get me out?"

"Yes. Yes, darling you need only–"

"It's dark." Harry sobbed out, voice small and scared. It broke something so deep in him, he had to breathe to calm himself. To think logically.

"Harry." He kept his voice steady, and left the flashlight by his side on the ground. "Harry, there should be a little lever on the right side of the doors, bellow all the floor numbers. Do you see it, love?"

There was a hum from the other side, but no spoken answer.

"Push it down, Harry. It should decompress the doors of the inside." 

"Okay. Nothing happened."

"It wasn't supposed to. You'll be able to open the doors now, love. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah."

The sound of metal moving against metal ran in his ears.

"Harry, listen. Is the elevator on this floor? Is it stuck in the middle?"

"I don't know." Came the small reply. Tom's gears slowed to a halt.

"How can you now know? You should be able to see–"

"It's dark." He said again, and it finally dawned on Tom.

He cursed under his breath.

"Okay." He took another deep breath for good measure. "Harry, listen to me."

"Okay?" He was still sniffing lowdly. Tom could imagine the tears running down his face, his small body pushed to one side and sitting all alone in the darkness.

"I need to go to the ground floor, to the maintenance room–"

"No, no, nonono–" Harry sobbed out, no air getting in his lungs.

"Harry! Love, my love you need to breathe." No answer. "Harry?"

The cat at his side meowed loudly. Tom started, having forgotten it was there.

"Tom?" the small voice at the other side of the doors asked.

"I'm here. And Mr. Snuffles is here too." He paused, considering. "It'll be five minutes at most love, I promise. I need the key to open the doors from the outside. Snuffles will keep you company."

Moments dragged by, Snuffles still chittering and chatting away at the metal doors. At Harry.

"Okay." And that was all Tom needed before grabbing the flashlight and booking it down the stairs. He didn't think he'd ever ran so fast in his life as he did now. By the time he made it to the maintenance room he hadn't even considered the possibility that it would be closed shut with lock and key. It didn't much matter in the end, as he used the flashlight to break the glass window and open the door from the inside, frantic eyes searching for the correct keys to open the elevator doors.

Once he found them, he ran back the way he came, not even bothering to stop a single moment before making it to their floor, no air in his lungs and thighs burning.

His hands trembled from the lack of oxygen as he tried to insert the key into it's hole.

The cat was still lowdly screaming at Harry, looking at Tom with judgemental eyes, as if wondering what had taken him so long.

When he finally got the doors open, Harry fell on his arms and sobbed so hard he was worried he would pass out.

A couple minutes went by, with Tom rubbing Harry's back, big hands leaving a trail of warmth from the expanse of his shoulder blades down to his hips. Their breathing synchronized, chests pressed together where Harry was sat on top of him, face on the crook of his neck.

Finally, he spoke.

"I wanna go home."

"Okay." He took Harry in his arms, slowly walking them back to 7B. He took his keys out, where he had a copy of Harry's apartment door just in case, and made it inside. Mr. Snuffles followed them in, chittering and thrilling.

He wrapped Harry in as many blankets as he would allow, before laying them both on the bed, stacked one on top of the other. When they settled, Snuffles stacked himself on top of them too, purring away.

"I don't like the dark." Harry said, what seemed like hours later. "I don't like small spaces either."

Tom hummed in response, fingers carding through his curls and nails digging lighly in his scalp.

When Harry lifted his head up to look into Tom's blue eyes, he caught his lips with his and kissed him like a man possessed.

He tasted salty, of tears.

The cat purred on.

 

Someone tried to kick the cat out of the building. Literally.

A girl with fiery red hair had watched on, horrified. She had instantly taken to screaming about it in the building's group chat.

12D: someone tried to kill snuffles

The flood of responses was expected. The private message plotting murder that slid in her dm's was not.

They demanded a physical description, whether or not the person had been standing within view of the security camaras and most importantly: did Ginny know this person? The floor where they lived? What had they done to poor Mr Snuffles?

Ginny feared for their safety.

Good.

The next day a message had been stuck with tape in the mirror of the elevator.

There was a picture of a balding blond old man with a ratty trench coat bent over and hand reaching for the orange cat at the man's feet. Bellow the picture, a message (more than a message, a promise).

'13 A hurt the cat again and I'll smash your head in'

Huh. So they did find out where the man lived.

Ginny posed and took a picture of the paper to send to the group chat, in case no one else had seen it.

 

When Tom saw the new notification on the group chat, he cast a long glance at his boyfriend. 

Harry had taken the printer out of storage last night.

(OR) paint your eyes with sunsets on AO3, 4k, one shot

[xstrawberry-jamx]

MONTHLY UPDATE SCHEDULE: SEPTEMBER 2024

9th: Intimacy Ch.51 [Posted]

18th: Serenity Ch.14 [Posted]

23rd: Intimacy Ch.52

WORD COUNT UPDATE: 18th SEPTEMBER

INTIMACY & RELATED WORKS

INTIMACY (Link)

Total Word Count: 220k

Ch.52: 1.9k*

Ch.53: 0.2k*

Ch.68: 0.3k*

PART 2

Ch.1: 0.5k*

Ch.?: 0.1k

SIDES

Ch.10: 0.1k

Ch. 11: 0.6k

Ch.12: 0.1k

Ch.13: 0.1k

Ch.14: 0.3k

EMPEROR HARRY AU

AU of Intimacy, where Harry is the Emperor, having inherited the position from Dumbledore. Tom becomes one of his few concubines early in his reign.

Ch.1: 0.7k

SERENITY & RELATED WORKS

SERENITY (Link)

Total Word Count: 89k

Ch.14: 4.1k* (POSTED)

Ch.15: 0.3k

Ch.?: 0.7k

SIDES

Ch.1: [Longevity]: 1.2k

DEAREST COUSIN & RELATED WORKS

DEAREST COUSIN

Total Word Count: 41k

Ch.16: 0.6k

DEAREST SISTER

Ch.2: X

UNPUBLISHED WORKS

Time Flies [When You're Having Fun]

Haikyuu, Time Travel AU: Hinata ends up in the past, in his younger body, during the Shiratorizawa match and tries his best to help the team win nationals.

Ch.1: 4.7k

Ch.2: 0.1k

From Feathers to Fur

Haikyuu, Inarizaki Hinata: Hinata transfers to Inarizaki after the first year due to his sister's failing health, her best hope laying with a specialist in Hyogo.

Ch.1: 0.7k

Ch.2: 0.1k

A Little Surprise

Harry Potter, Solo Levelling, Gamer AU: Harry, bored with his immortal life after centuries as MOD, is transported into the world of Solo Levelling, where his parents are alive, monsters roam the earth, and he has a weird game system arguing with him in his head.

Ch.1: 2.0k

Pity the Living

Harry Potter, Time Travel and Gamer AU: Harry dies eventfully, and is summoned before Death, who sends him back to the 1940's as the last male Peverell, equipped with a Game System.

Ch.1: 2.2k

HP Elflings

Harry Potter, LOTR, Tomarry as Elflings: When he dies, instead of being sent to the afterlife, Harry is reincarnated as an Elfling in Middle Earth. He enjoys his new, long childhood, until the Elves raising him introduce him to the other Elfling who has been living in another settlement. And that Elfling just had to be Voldemort, trapped within a child's body. And the Elves have a strict no-violence policy between them in place.

Ch.1: 0.2k

Elflings From the Leaf

Naruto, LOTR: Naruto and others are transported to Middle Earth when they accidentally activate an ancient seal, and it turns them into pointy-eared, long-haired children in the middle of an unknown forest. Try as they might, they can't avoid the adults of their new kind for long in these new bodies.

Ch.1: 1.1k

Affinity

Naruto, Imperial Harem AU: Naruto is born as the son of the Emperor, Minato, First Emperor of the Dynasty. His childhood is filled with scheming, the one bright spot being his friend, Sasuke, the second son of the Uchiha Clan Head, one of the previous reigning Dynasties. That is, until his friend usurps the throne, and initiates him into his Harem.

Ch.1: 1.4k

Ch.2: 0.5K

Ch.3: 0.1k

LOTR Elfling

LOTR, Reincarnation: Callum, now Cel, is reincarnated into LOTR in the body of an Elfling. Raised by his adoptive mother, of the race of Man, in a small village, he believes he can live his life, not in luxury, but in peace. However, as the years pass, his Mother grows frail with age, and after her death, he is chased from the village due to the people's fear the Elves will seek vengeance for their stolen child. Cast out, he wanders, until a group of his kind come upon him.

Ch.1: 0.2k

Hunger Games x HP AU

INSATIABLE

Post Date: 27th March 2025

Hunger Games, Tomarry, Alternate 75th Games: After last year's showing, with star-crossed lovers taking the Capitol by storm, and President Snow growing ever warier of the couple, the newest Gamemaker, Dumbledore, needs to make this Quarter Quell a spectacular one. And, with the President's consent, two Victors are to win once more, but their love must be convincing, and they can't hail from the same District. As for the twist to keep the Games fresh, well... Hadrian, 'Call me Harry', Potter, from District Two, has been trained for this. He will win with the girl from One by his side, she's pretty enough, and he's sure he can make this work. Tom Riddle, from District Twelve, thinks little of the new implementations for this Quarter Quell. He will win it by himself, as there is no one within the Districts that could possibly catch his eye.

Ch.1: 2.7k*

Ch.2: 2.0k*

Ch.3: 0.1k*

[we-ezer]

Harry Potter AU where Harry chooses to travel back in time to redo his Hogwarts years but Death shows up too as either another student or professor. Either he's doing it to entertain himself, to keep an eye on his master, or both. Harry is angry at first that Death didn't tell him he would be coming along and they have the sort of antagonistic but secrets-shared only between them dynamic you see in some tomarry fics. Death also hates Voldemort and wants to be rid of him too, but can't resist acting like a little shit when around Harry. No other human amuses him so much. Eventually, Death realizes his feelings go beyond amusement or simple loyalty and he falls in love with Harry. Some teachers draw the conclusion that Death is similar to Tom which Death hates and Harry teases him for. Death also hates Dumbledore's manipulations of Harry and is constantly inserting himself into conversations between the two even when others try to get Harry alone. Death is also much more empathetic concerning Harry's parents and usually has a devil may care attitude. Harry is constantly surprising him with how much he cares about the people around him, even Dumbledore who raised him for slaughter, but his compassion makes Harry who he is. That care is constantly getting his master into tricky situations that can't always be solved by being unkillable (i.e. Death is not used to talking his way out of situations so much).

[ictyn]

MY FANFIC Y'ALL - MASTERLIST

Hiya! Here's a list of all my published fics and major WIPS as of 1/5/2025.

LONGFICS (75k+ PLANNED)

a pound of flesh - (20,754 WIP), M Rated, WHUMP

One mistake causes irreparable damage. Harry Potter, Fourth Triwizard Champion, falls in the first task. He is injured past the point of survivability but for some reason he simply cannot die. Harry is taken to St. Mungo's where he's subjected to painful and humiliating experimental healing techniques. Robbed of his voice, he wishes for nothing but to be put out of his misery. Meanwhile, despite the sorry state of his fated enemy, Lord Voldemort wants Harry Potter for his resurrection ritual. Whatever power tethers the boy to life-Voldemort must possess it. Harry, helpless and trapped in his body, is entirely at the mercy of his nemesis. And Lord Voldemort, who never backs down from a challenge, becomes obsessed with solving the problem of Harry Potter once and for all. He will do the impossible-not destroy the boy, no, but remake him.

sunk cost fallacy - (105,684 WIP), E Rated, COMING SOON

lord of the flies au, same age tomarry, cannibalism :)

ONCE IN A LIFETIME - (62,804 WIP), E Rated, COMING SOON

cursed child au, HJP has a mid-life crisis, kissing Tom Riddle across time and space. 

MULTI-CHAPTER FICS (<75k PLANNED):

The Word of Your Body (20k COMPLETE) - SWITCHING, 18+, ANGST

“Have you heard from him?” Albus asks as they finish up their treats. The old man is scraping his fork against the plate to make sure he’s gotten every last morsel of frosting. “No,” Harry whispers softly. Albus only means one person when he asks Harry this question. He’s asked it five times in twenty years, and the answer is always the same. The only thing he knows about Tom is that he’s not dead. Harry would know if that happened. He’d feel it beating inside his heart, inside of his very soul. “Will you tell me when you do?” Albus regards him with blank neutrality. No judgment, no opinion, just an unwavering gaze. “…I don't know,” Harry admits.

baby, turn the bright lights on (17,353 WIP) - M Rated, ZOMBIE AU

For ten years, zombies have ravaged the British Isles. For ten years, Lord Voldemort has searched for a cure. The dead fear sunlight. They hide during the day and surround Voldemort's hideout at night. Inside, he scrapes a solitary existence from the bones of an empty city. One day, a zombie with abnormal behavior patterns catches his eye. It is docile, it is still, and most strangely of all it stands in daylight without fear. Voldemort recognizes the zombie-messy hair, green eyes, and a scar-as the corpse of his fated vanquisher. He resolves to capture the zombie as a test subject, but his plans are thrown off completely at an impossible discovery-Harry Potter's heart still beats inside his chest. After ten years, this may be the break he's looking for in his research. But, even undead, the Boy-Who-Lived has a way of always disrupting his carefully laid plans.

ONE SHOTS (ALL COMPLETE):

CONQUER (7,638) - HPLV (TOP HARRY), 18+, ANGST

Blood dribbles from Voldemort’s ruined lips. Harry’s gaze catches on the sinkhole of his mouth, red and wet and inviting, a spring trap with ambrosia as the bait. Gravity shifts beneath his knees and Harry finds himself leaning down, forward, forward, forward, until he’s tasting that mouth, the copper and charcoal, the same thing Tom tasted like the last time they kissed, thirty years ago on the charred remains of a battlefield. A kiss to seal the dissolution of their vows, their rings, their promises to have and to hold. A kiss that started a war, a war that neither could ever win

a pale horse (7,043) - LVHP, 18+, NONCON/TENTACLES

Harry, a penniless orphan, struggles to survive under the superstitious judgement of his isolated puritan community. One day, a vile omen is left before the church, an omen which portends only doom. The elders choose to cast Harry out, sending him as a sacrifice to a crumbling castle where a demon is said to lurk and reap souls for the Devil. The Dark Lord waits within, ravenous for the taste of his blood and the sweetness of his soul.

inhibit (11,013) - LVHP, 18+, TRANS HARRY

The war is lost. The resistance has fallen to the strength of Voldemort’s dark army. Harry cuts a deal to save his loved ones by becoming the Dark Lord’s bonded spouse. In order to survive his wedding night Harry takes a potion that removes all of his inhibitions—and the Dark Lord won’t know what hit him.

[dracomort]

Reincarnation? If you so please

For the ask game

This is really just my Tomarry reincarnation scribbles for any AUs that come to mind.

I'm cracking up rn because the only scene I have polished enough to share is one with secondary-school-student!Tom and dying-in-a-pallative-care-ward!Harry 💀

Anyway, you're welcome:

Scene

“Look at you.” The voice of a teenage boy.

Harry pried one eye open.

There, leaning in the doorway, was none other than Tom Riddle, looking perhaps sixteen at the oldest. He was dressed in a crisp school uniform that looked expensive enough to pay for private palliative care thrice over. His hair was artfully tousled in a way that might have been carefree if it had been anyone other than Tom. On the breast of his blazer was pinned the predictable prefect badge.

“This is perverse,” Harry said. He closed his eyes, wishing Tom away, thinking of Ginny, the children, the grandchildren. Anything other than Tom Riddle.

It didn’t work. He could still hear the soft sound of Tom’s feet on the lino as he approached.

“I won’t disagree.” Tom dropped himself onto the mattress beside Harry, peering down at him with his dark, pretty eyes. “You look hideous. How old are you? One hundred? Two?”

“Eighty-three,” Harry replied, “and not likely to make it to eighty-four.” It was jarring to see his sun-beaten, wrinkled old hands beside Tom’s pale, youthful ones. How would it work in this world? Would Tom continue to live a long, healthy life after Harry had passed? Would he forget him?

“You look much older,” Tom said, matter of fact.

He wasn’t the most conscious of the Toms, Harry mused. He’d met versions of him with varying degrees of knowledge of their shared pasts—some who remembered only when he saw them, some who had known for decades, some who didn’t recognise him in the slightest. This Tom seemed to remember well enough, but he didn’t hold himself with the maturity of a Tom Riddle who recalled a thousand lives. He was a boy, nothing more.

And even from the brief words they’d exchanged, Harry could already tell he had been raised by his father.

“This coming from the lad who didn’t manage to make it to his seventy-eighth birthday?” Harry said.

Tom shrugged, which was not the reaction that an iteration of him closer to Voldemort would have had. If—in his decrepit, geriatric form—Harry had dared voice that to the Librarian Tom, he was certain all the life-saving equipment currently attached to him would have already been severed. But instead, this Tom only watched him curiously, head half-cocked.

Harry was, predictably, charmed by him. However, much to his relief, he felt no great surge of attraction. It was one benefit of being eighty-three and on seven different medications with a total of forty different side effects.

“I saw your name on the door. I remembered it, though I wasn’t sure where from.”

“Almost like a half-forgotten friend from when you were very young?” Harry supplied.

“A friend?” Tom’s lip curled. “I never had friends.” He spoke as if Harry had gravely offended him by even suggesting the possibility.

“No,” Harry said, “neither had I. But that was how I felt when I read your name—the first time.”

“Hm,” Tom said, mouth twitching down. “Why’s it always you, then? What’s so special about you?” He didn’t question his own importance—as Harry recalled doing in iterations further from the core—simply accepting his place at the centre of infinite parallel universes without batting an eye. 

“You marked me as your equal,” Harry said. “Really, it’s all your fault. I’m still waiting on an apology.” His throat was dry, arms too weak to reach for his water, but he didn’t ask Tom to help him. Not this petulant, young version of him.

Tom rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

A nurse came in, almost as if she’d read his mind, bustling about and neatening up Ginny’s bags. She helped him take a sip of water, sparing an incurious glance at Tom. Harry supposed she imagined he was just another grandchild. It was nauseating enough to almost make him laugh.

“We fucked,” Tom said abruptly.

The nurse dropped the cup, the thin plastic straw spinning away somewhere under his bed. “Pardon me?”

It was likely Tom hadn’t even intended to provoke a reaction from the room. The memory had certainly just come to him. Harry had experienced the same many a time. However, while rarely was that an admission one would wish to make in front of a stranger, stating such a thing while in school uniform in front of a mandated reporter was surely near the top of the list of inadvisable decisions.

Tom flicked a disinterested glance at her. “I’m sixteen. If I have a taste for the toothless then that’s none of your business.”

“He’s only joking,” Harry assured her. “You’ve seen my records. I’m not up for any sort of physical activity.”

She did not laugh, leaving in a huff. Harry hoped she wasn’t off to make a call.

“I’m not going to have this conversation with a child,” Harry said. “Come see me in the next life.” 

“We did,” Tom insisted, perhaps not understanding that plausibility was not the roadblock to their conversation. “In an atelier out the back of a piano shop in Paris.”

“Well,” Harry said, memories of a thousand lives blurred and smudged together in his mind, “I suppose we may have.” That it was the closest iteration to this Tom did not mean it sprang quickly to Harry’s mind.

“We did, we—”

The door slid open again and Harry looked up, expecting a police officer or some sort of security. But instead, there stood an exceptionally handsome man who could have been the twin of any of the versions of Tom in his thirties that Harry had met.

“Tommy,” Tom Riddle Sr said, looking tired and rather distracted, “you mustn’t just go about bothering other patients. I’m very sorry, Mr…?” He was dressed in a crisp black suit and had his Blackberry in hand, looking like he had about a thousand things to do that were more important than apologising to Harry.

“Potter,” Harry said. “And that’s quite alright.” He was old enough to be the man’s grandfather. Never had he felt older. He was beginning to understand why Voldemort had paid him little attention or respect in the worlds in which they were fifty years apart in age.

“I was just saying goodbye,” Tom said. Then, with a sly glint in his eye, he dipped his head and kissed Harry square on the mouth. “When do you suppose you’ll die?” he asked, breaking away.

Harry glanced over at Tom’s father, but saw that he was typing out an email on his phone and had missed the exchange entirely.

“The doctors have given me two months.”

Tom’s eyes dropped to his own hand on Harry’s chest for a brief moment, then up at his face again. “This will be the last time I see you, then.”

“In this lifetime.” Harry winked. Tom frowned.

Behind him, Tom’s father cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but we’ve really got to dash. Tommy, will you come say goodbye to your grandfather?”

[aethon-recs]

Thank you for your recs, there've been so many fics I would have never come across without your recs! The Lost and Found series by Aquaphobe is now one of my favorites, it is truly one-of-a-kind and so underrated, so thank you for surfacing that one.

As a result, I am now craving fics with an older Tom Riddle, magical or muggle setting, in other words, Tomarry but with their canon age gap. Would you be able to rec some? Thank you greatly

Thank you so much! And yes, lost and found by @honbug is a beautifully written series featuring a Mafia AU setting; I will link it here so that everyone can hopefully read it 🤍

I love a good age gap fic! Please see below for a rec list featuring older Tom, and I’ll combine this with another ask I received recently requesting silver fox Tom Riddle recs. I tried to find fics where it’s mentioned that Tom has a bit of grey at the temples; otherwise, these fics all feature Harry and Tom at their canon age gap (or close to it). 

lost & found (Series) by @honbug (E, 183k, WIP) 

(Part 1) Sometimes, Harry gets lost. (Part 2) For as long as he can recall, Harry's felt that the world is not as it should be… (Part 3) Tom knows from the beginning that he is destined for greatness. Nothing and no one will stop him from achieving his goals. (And then, of course, there are the dreams.)

*

Canon Age Gap Recs

A Special Day by @vdoshu (E, 3k, complete)

“I think a fresh start is important. I’d like one, and I think this can be it.” “It’s a bit late for a fresh start for me, don’t you think?” he retorts snidely.

An afternoon's delight by @loneamaryllis (E, 2k, complete) 

"I want you to fuck my throat." Voldemort was a hard man to surprise, and yet those seven words knocked the wind out of him. He lifted an eyebrow, lips parting slightly. 

aurora polaris by @aglassroseneverfades (E, 217k, complete)

Harry does not give up the Horcrux when he dies. Moved by compassion, he embraces it instead. The world Harry wakes up to is not like the one he remembers. And his captor is neither the same as he was, nor as different as he would like.

Everything Green Is Gold by anonymous (E, 24k, complete)

Prior to Hogwarts, Harry had stayed mostly invisible to the teachers and adults around him his whole life. But Tom Riddle, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, looked at Harry like he was something to be wanted.

Everything We Dream Can Be Real by @vdoshu  (E, 52k, complete)

Harry had a life after Voldemort. He had a family. He had a career. And then one day it was all ripped away when he woke up at Number 4 Privet Drive. Or: Where Harry doesn’t exactly get that chance to do it over again. And things are Not Okay.

Fault Lines by @vestiges-of-light (M, 151k, complete)

After the world believes that Voldemort has died on that Halloween night, Tom Riddle returns to Hogwarts to claim the Defense post at last. Hogwarts will be a sanctuary, while he waits to find out more about Harry Potter and the prophecy that connects them. But when Grindelwald is broken out of prison, perhaps the magical world needs Voldemort to be publicly resurrected after all.

hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (E, 41k, WIP)

Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort, Riddle is endlessly amused.)

James Potter Does Not Approve by Lytri (T, 4k, complete) 

James had never liked Gaunt, and that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.

Let's talk sugar by @being-luminous (T, 2k, complete) 

In which Harry Potter may or may not be a sugar baby. 

Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89 (M, 47k, complete)

Age catches up with everyone. The infamous serial killer Voldemort now spends his time reading newspapers and making trips to the local library in search of a new crime novel. But one day he makes an interesting new acquaintance that shakes his quiet life and rekindles old flames and unknown desires.

Ministry: A Christmas Special by @milkandmoon-103 (M, 4k, complete) 

Rumours are circulating within the Ministry that Senior Undersecretary Tom Riddle is sleeping with his assistant.

One slap, two slaps, three slaps by @albondiguilla007 (E, 4k, complete)

Minister Tom Riddle turns seventy.

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 207k, WIP)

A decade after the final battle, a serial killer emerges, with a message that proclaims the Dark Lord has risen again. Harry is assigned to the case.

Resonating Souls by @endlessburningdarkness (E, 4k, complete)

Minister Riddle has an unusually dream filled night.

Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 162k, WIP)

In another world, Harry Potter was spared. Raised in Lord Voldemort's Britain, he enters his seventh year wanting to keep his head down. But after a chance encounter with ‘Marvolo Gaunt’, it looks like it may not be so simple.

Terms and Conditions May Apply by @duplicitywrites (T, 17k, WIP)

Lord Voldemort gets one chance at a new life. This new chance comes with a lot of conditions.

The Betrayal (And Boon) of One's Own Biology by @riverxsong-ao3 (E, 7k, complete)

Tom Riddle had always known he was destined for greatness. As a young wizard, he was certain he would present one day as an Alpha - strong, powerful, in charge. When he did not, he came to accept that he must, in fact, be a Beta.

The Dinner by @moontearpensfic (T, 3k, complete) 

Voldemort takes Harry to meet his parents.

The Rigmarole Dance by cannibalinc (T, 8k, complete) 

Harry is nine years old when he points at Lord Thomas Marvolo Slytherin, High Warlock of England, and declares "You're my soulmate, and we're going to be married."

Unwinding the Minister (Hypothetically) by @ramabear (E, 4k, complete)

It's the end of December and Head Auror Harry Potter finds himself in the Minister's office once more and he can't help but wonder, how much the young, uptight Minister really just needs to unwind for a night. And how much he'd be happy to help.

Until Midnight Comes by @dividawrites (E, 26k, complete)

A few years after the war Harry reluctantly attends a party at Malfoy Manor. He drinks a few too many and runs into a handsome man called Tom. What happens after is definitely not a drunken error in judgement—it’s love at first, blurry sight instead.

*

[curioushabitforarivergod]

writer interviewer tag !!

tagged by @known-concepts !! tagging (if u want to do it) @aitafrog, @d00medbythenarrative, @sc0rpiflow3r, and open tag invite for all those who wish to join in!!

--

how many works do you have on ao3?

29 (so close to 30 🥹)

what's your total AO3 word count?

72,489

your top 5 stories by kudos?

Last Night - a jedediah/octavius (night at the museum) fic where they have their first kiss as the sun comes up for the last time

Still Falls the Rain - a preslash tomarry where harry travels back to the blitz (unknown reasons) and holds traumatised!tom close

kid (call me when you're sober) - a tomarry where harry is a retired punk rockstar and toms obsessed with him. age gap, smut (incest kink), unhealthy relationship 😐

soft hearts, electric souls - a hinata shouyou/semi eita/ushijima wakatoshi (haikyuu!!) fic based on House of Memories by @flosstupidblog where ushijima thinks hes homophobic but really hes got a crush on semi and hinata. they have sex in the dorms

when the world falls quietly away (and it's just us in the TARDIS) - thasmin, end of flux au where yasmin and the doctor have that conversation and then kiss

do you respond to comments?

yeah! im a bit behind atm but i love replying to comments and i always reply!!

whats the fic youve written with the angstiest ending?

oh dear, better to ask about what (few) fluffy fics ive written... lmao, heres a list. some mcd, some implied character death, some unrequited love, lots of hopeless situations

As You Wave Me Goodbye - The Captain/Lieutenant Havers (BBC Ghosts)

Last Night - Jedediah/Octavius (Night at the Museum)

never-never 'verse - gen (Haikyuu!!)

Half-Hearted Circles - River Cartwright/James "Spider" Webb (Slow Horses)

The Lighthouse Keeper - Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka (Haikyuu!!)

Mock Orange - Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars)

yāran! sōran, the days we live - Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka (Haikyuu!!)

The Angel - Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort (Harry Potter)

tell me how to be more than a shell of me - gen (Harry Potter)

do you write crossovers?

not as of yet. def inspired by things from multiple fandoms so its more inspiration crossover than outright cross over. i might end up with something in the future. never say never and all

have you ever received hate on a fic?

no?? some strange comments but nothing outright. like 1 passive aggressive comment but i didnt even realise at the time lmao

do you write smut?

unfortunately, i do on occasion

have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope! (not that i know of)

have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, not yet. ive had a few "what if?" convos (and im def open to the idea) but nothing solids emerged for now

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

long-time unpublished wip called "the killing moon". although i do want to get round to it someday. its sort of what started my more frequent posting on tumblr

what are your writing strengths?

ive been told im good at smut writing. personally, i think thats just description. so descriptive writing and prose

what are your writing weaknesses?

filler scenes and anything that doesnt relate to the plot, character interaction, dialogue

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i'll do it if i include a direct translation within the sentences surrounding it or if theres a translation due to context. i actually did it in nangiri'o ora

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

maybe some captain/pat (bbc ghosts) at some point, but at the same time i want to write more of my current ships. especially stuff for slow horses. also want to continue writing a harry/charlie fic i put down last year (im at about 4k atm??)

--

thank you so much for the tag lettie!! this was very fun :D

[awyeahitssam]

My Writing Masterlist

Since I post on here far more consistently then on ao3 for reasons, I figured I would compile a list of my writing for those who don't like sifting through fandoms they could care less about to get to the good stuff. 

Separated by fandom, and somewhat by trope. 

Harry Potter:

Harry eats a God. 

Harry just can't seem to stay dead. TW: Suicide, character death, frequent character death, torture, murder, disjointed snippets, discontinued + Harry dissociates. Connected, same warnings may apply. 

First Encounters: Time loop, Voldemort-as-Quirrell visits the Dursleys and is less than pleased. 

First Encounters: The first time Harry meets Voldemort, the man he's been trained to kill all his life, he's nineteen, and Voldemort recognizes him. 

Prisoner Harry tells Voldemort about the Dursleys like it's a bedtime story. 

Except for the incident, Harry really doesn't tend to talk a lot when he has a concussion. Stream of thought narrative, character injury.

Literally just Empath!Harry spoilers. Harry, at his trial, allowing himself be petty to an extent. 

Harry gets drunk, pulled into Voldemort's mind, and decides he wants to share his good mood.

Tea shop AU.  + more  Tea Shop (weather) AU. + something actually Tea-based under the cut

Four of a Kind AU: Learning to kiss split-scene. Harry/Harry, referenced Harry/Horcrux + They meet. They kiss. What if. Voldemort/Harry + In the aftermath Voldemort/Harry

Kid Fic: Harry ‘dies’ as a child. Mentor!Voldemort, absolutely not a pairing ficlet. 

Kid Fic: Harry and Voldemort’s kid lands in the past during a duel at the Ministry. Pre-Harrymort, Micah, not quite the kiss you'd expect.

Female Harry, world-jumping, rationally angry. Tom/Harry intended, if Harry will chill out on the murder. 

Female Harry, young, likes to write.

Harry likes to feel pretty. Horcrux/Harry, Harry wears makeup, etc. 

Harry lost the bet. Confident, petty Harry in lingerie.

Tom and Harry jump through time to each other. Tomarry, growing up, fluff, brief kissing, Harry’s older

Dragon AU, I have a lot more of this one written, I should dump that some day. Harry/Horcruxes

Harry/Tom: pillow forts, soft angst, unresolved, broken promises

Harry's really fucking sick and tired of being told what the fuck to do. 

Tom-after-Voldemort is the first person Harry has ever spoken to. Isolation, lighthearted, odd, old and forgotten. 

Harry never imagines the effect getting a boyfriend would have on Riddle. Jealous Tom. 

Harry messes with Diary!Tom

Harry and Voldemort have to complete a task based on the colour of the others' robes, for some reason?

Harry is kidnapped and wakes up in an incredibly comfortable bed. Voldemorts knows Harry is his horcrux.

Harry ruthlessly defends Hogwarts against encroaching Death Eaters. Sixth Year.

It's one paragraph guys.

Brief character study of Voldemort.

Prompt-based: Tom possesses Harry when he's afraid. Hermione POV.

Prompt-based: Santa forgot about Harry, again.

Prompt-based: Tom watches Harry draw dirty, dirty things at church.

Teen Wolf, all at least peripherally intended as Stiles/Peter

Kid Fic + Genderbend + Time Travel: Stiles is in the past and nobody is raising Malia, so she sure as shit will.

Stiles has known about werewolves since he was nine, and now that he's off the college it seems his dad has gottten involved. No Hale Fire, Protective Stiles

The first thing Kate does when she comes back to Beacon Hills is kidnap Peter. Human!Alpha Stiles, eventual Steter, pre-slash

Stiles has the curse of obedience. Stiles/Peter

Flower shop AU! Ft. Petty Peter and insulting bouquets.

Peter says he hates Stiles. Stiles begs to differ. 

Werewolf Stiles wakes up in the middle of Beacon Hills woods naked, and tries to keep it low key from there. Bakery AU, kinda. Peter/Stiles

First Encounters: The Hale pack summons Stiles to the past. 

First Encounters: The first time Stiles meets Peter he is drunk. Stiles is a rude, very straight-forward drunk who steps all over issues like dead family and psychosis. It’s like he had a minefield map and is intentionally stepping on every trigger. 

Stiles meets Peter in the hospital.

Stiles pulls back because he doesn't want Peter to mess up his dress shirt, not because he doesn't want the bite. 

Stiles crochets magic shit. Fluff. 

Negotiations go well. 

Peter being the literal worst, holy hell, this hurts to read. Have some angst. Past-Stiles/Peter

Okay, my bad for that last one. Have some comfort. Crying, comfort, Stiles & Peter

Dragon Stiles is constantly underestimated. 

Stiles beats Peter, sore loser extraordinaire. 

Me acting like Stiles has shame for some reason.

Female Stiles gets forcibly genderbent and is not putting up with anybody's shit. Body dysmorphia, shitty friends, anger issues, sexism. Peter/Stiles

Female Stiles and Peter. Shower, soft.

Stiles writes smutty fanfic, as he should. 

Stiles being a bad influence on his little self, ft Knowing Himself Too Fucking Well. Time travel AU, torture

Peter walks away. 

Peter/Stiles, marking, one of the sexiest things I've ever written imo 

Peter is dumb, stupid, silly villain. 

Peter’s timing is about as good as Stiles’ filter. Dumb, stupid villain antics. 

Stiles threatens Peter, /lh

Stiles is justifiably sad after a movie. 

Tony Stark-centric:

Gen: Tony takes after Maria. Few people recognize a predator wrapped up in such Tony packaging. 

Gen: Tony bantering with, and teasing, Peter. 

Tony Stark uses the infinity stones. 

Tony survives the stones. 

Tony proposes. In public. In a way that undeniably affirms his feelings. Loki/Tony

Loki meets Morgan for the first time. Loki/Tony, kid fic

Hair Kink—I mean braiding! Aha, ha, ha… Loki/Tony

Female Toni doesn't take well to her children being threatened. 

Soulmates? Tony/Loki

Rhodey gives Loki the shovel talk ft. Parks & Rec

Tony saves the day…?

Bleach / Time travel: Ichigo isn't supposed to be here. 

The 100: Cage Wallace stages a coup before the forty-eight arrive. (Or: Dante Wallace dies before his time.) This changes everything.

[reggieblk]

omg i never come on tumblr anymore and had to remember all my logins but i didn't know if u had a Twitter but saw your Tumblr linked in ur ao3 so hi

I JUST FINISHED YOUR FIC IF WE WERE LOVERS AND I HAVE SO MUCH EMOTIONS. first of all I knew I was gonna like this fic because I LOOOOVE your other fic 'equals in life (partners in death)'. i saw if we were lovers being recommended on the tomarry subreddit. I never read non magical AUs like this was forreal my first ever one!! I've never really been interested in them since I love the tension and angst harry and tom have in canon because of their backstories and shit so non magical AUs never appealed to me much for tomarry specifically but man I saw if we were lovers on reddit so i clicked on it and it sounded so interesting. I never was a theatre kid or really cared much about it but always thought it was cool and respected people who did it. hell i would love if I could do shit like that on stage LMAO but this fic sounded really good so I saved it to read! and I'm SO glad I did. I literally just finished it and now im here writing this. first of all I love how you wrote ALL these characters. I really need to bring up theo especially because I never really cared about theo as character tbh and in fics I'm usually like eh whatever but you bought SOOOO much life to his character in this fic that I literally would read a fanfiction featuring your theo lmao. I loved his personality so much even tho I'd probably punch him and get so angry at him if he was my friend because sometimes he really needs to shut the fuck up but this personality also seems to REALLY suit him and I just loved him so much. I loved all the characters!!! you just wrote them so well that I never got bored because they were all interesting!! tom and harrys relationship was the best thing ever I literally wanted to strangle them both so much I loved it. I love how much they love eachother and the PINING and SLOW BURN HAD ME SCREAMING AT MY PHONE LIKE CAN YALL FUCKIN KISS ALREADY HOLY SHIT???? and your writing was absolutely phenomenal. I didn't really know what the fuck was going on during the plays because like I said I don't know much about theatre lol but man it was so awesome to read and I could just imagine it all in my head when i was reading it 😩 also I really loved how you wrote Sirius I cried when harry called him and he relapsed but im so happy he got sober!!! I loved all the professors and how you wrote them as well. I was almost losing my shit during harrys first class with snape and im a snape lover LOL but I was like what the FUCK. later on I'm like ok nvm he cool. I loved how Dumbledore came to visit harry and tom during the Christmas break when they literally were high af LMAO. I feel like Dumbledore would smoke weed too tbh. Also this is such a specific moment but I laughed when all the students were graduating and theo made McGonagall do a fist bump with him i can picture that so well it made me Crack tf up. Ugh I just loved this fic so much I would pay you to write a sequel (jk... unless...haha...) but no fr soooo good. I am on my hands and knees praying that you have more ideas for more long tomarry fics again in the future 😭🙏🛐

oh my lord HI this ask is so nice i love love love getting comments or asks from people who literally JUST finished a fic and have so much to say about it!! it's so flattering as an author bc i get the feeling my passion for the project got spread to my readers!!

my characters....my babies.... this fic really revealed a passion i have for making people LMAO i am so happy you enjoyed these characters all together <3 there exists in my docs a version of these characters together in a canon setting and oh my shaylas... my children they're babies in it!! unfortunately that fic SUCKS so it will most likely nawt see the light of day lol sorry but trust the characters are so sweet in it

believe it or not i am by no means a theatre kid!! in fact in france we don't even have theatre at school, other than analysing texts for the more literary classes! it's just a small passion i have, love how pretentious it is! but honestly thank god most readers are not theatre kids bc i'm sure there are things in the fic that are like....girl this is bullshit... writing is like lying and pretending you know things about things when you don't lol

(dumbledore definitely used to smoke weed, but by the time in which the fic is set he most assuredly discovered edibles)

i am SO happy you discovered ethel cain via this fic!! preacher's daughter changed my life fr! however, listening to it on shuffle....a thousand years in the dungeon!! crazy behaviour i cannot lie

thank you so so much for the ask! (and sorry for the late reply) it really makes me happy seeing people like this fic in particular <33