Chapter Text
Let the preface here be that Tom Riddle is a very poor individual, who’s had the same phone since he’s known about self-identity. And he, being who he is, has known about self-identity for a very, very long time.
But his foster caretaker has decided to splurge on him because he’s in his last year of secondary school and it’s unfathomable for him not to have a smartphone in this day and age.
’’I’m really used to it.’’ Now, Tom, being who he is, dislikes all form of social media and finds that not having a smartphone has helped him stay out of the nitty-gritty’s of life online. However, with this new phone and all of its features put into his lap, he’s going to have no proper excuse to get his vain friends to piss off. Not to confuse this as him insulting vanity, because he really isn’t – he’s very vain himself. What Tom is doing in this moment is insulting everyone else except for himself and his very good, albeit eccentric boyfriend.
When he puts his SIM card into this new phone, one with more screen than buttons, and boots it up – he sees that he’s got two missed calls from Abraxas (probably going on about how his birds are sick), three messages from Walburga Black (whom he’s sworn he’s blocked, yet she keeps finding burner phones to ruin his mood), and fifteen messages scattered among his Knights (he’s in a fencing club). Overall it’s not a bad turn out.
For the first time in his life he sends a whatsapp message. Usually he’s just told everyone he’s too poor to text them back, and at their prompt if he’s got whatsapp had to sheepishly tell them that he’s got a Nokia for a phone and that he doesn’t understand why they’ve allowed to be enslaved by the button-less smartphones. Tom quite likes the proper use of a phone: the call option. Possibly a text message if one’s got lots of money. Which an orphan doesn’t mind you. Well, Tom’s got things saved up on the side because of his many stipends, but people really don’t need to know that. That’s between his bank and himself.
He makes one group on whatsapp, using a youtube tutorial, and shoves all of his Knights into it. He adds Abraxas there because he likes Abraxas and his childhood therapist has told him that when he finds people he’s fond of to surround himself with said people the most. He really ought to get a new therapist because nobody believes him that he can talk to snakes. Or maybe he should just not mention that to the next one. Telling people he can talk to snakes has not worked out for him. His profile picture is non-existent. His status is non-existent. Tom Riddle thinks that it’s the most on brand thing for himself.
Tom Riddle: What is the matter with all of you?
Thoros Nott: Can we steal you away tonight to study? I’ve got rugby practise tomorrow.
Abraxas: I don’t know why you even play, Thoros, you’re very bad.
Abraxas: HI TOM!
Tom dislikes there not being an option to heart a person’s reply, because now he’s got to take out time out of his day to write a proper hello to Abraxas.
Tom Riddle: Hello, Abraxas.
Abraxas: :D
Tom remembers seeing a meme once online with golden retrievers. He finds it oddly fitting.
Lestrange: Thoros is the worst on the team and we need him because of his mummy’s money.
Avery: It’s our A levels next, gents, we need to take those seriously. We really need to take this entire year seriously... Tom, can you help us out? We’ll pay you!!
Orion Black (Walburga’s unfortunate kin): hey, riddle, did you get a new phone?
Ten messages follow about everyone wondering what Tom’s new phone is. Very leisurely, Tom removes himself from the group. He’s very tired of people only hanging around him for his tutoring capabilities. At first it’s only boasted his ego and made him feel untouchable, but the more he’s given it thought the less he’s certain that when they all graduate any of these finks will stick around. And if one wants to build an empire they need reliable people to do so.
Abraxas sends him a text message. Tom instantly answers it.
Thoros sends him a message. Tom instantly decides not to answer it.
It’s chilly outside so Tom gets his coat and goes to find where Abraxas says he is. He rather misses the fink. Apparently he’s gone on a very turbulent adventure this summer, in the Cote d’Azur. How turbulent an adventure can be when you’re with your parents on holiday fails to crystalize itself to Tom, but he won’t deny that Abraxas is a magnet for chaos.
And Abraxas is in a car. He nearly runs Tom over.
Tom kicks his tire. Because logically he knows that if he scratches the car he’s never going to be able to afford to fix it. Abraxas’ parents don’t like Tom, yet. He doesn’t need a reason for that yet to elongate itself even more.
’’I am not getting into that thing.’’
’’I’ve got a licence!’’
Tom squints suspiciously. Abraxas shows him the licence. The evidence is overwhelming, Tom, still squinting, climbs into the passenger seat. Abraxas is smiling very widely. In the backseat there’s two peacocks. ’’Abraxas, why are your birds here?’’
’’I’ve got to take them to the vet.’’
’’And your many servants can’t do this because?’’
’’My parents want them to die.’’
’’Ah right. The joy of having parents.’’
The entire time while Abraxas is driving, Tom keeps thinking about death and dying. When they reach the vet, Tom gets out of the vehicle with unbeknown speed, and refuses to ever be driven by Abraxas anywhere.
’’Goodness, Tom, you make me sound as if I wanted to drive you to your death!’’
Tom is not proud of this moment, but he does involuntarily make a hissing sound that sounds a lot like a man very angrily telling the other, non-hissing man to piss off into oblivion. To Abraxas, however, it merely sounds like a hiss. His boyfriend’s always been able to talk to snakes. It’s just a thing that nobody can explain. Walburga Black has tried. She really has. People think that she’s become a biologist just to find out what sort of creature Tom Riddle is. Nobody wants to tell her that she’s hit the wrong mark with the profession. She’s a few years older than them, but she’s more home than at uni so everyone still unfortunately sees plenty of her.
Whilst at the vet, Tom is holding the albino peacock and soothingly ruffling its feathers. Meanwhile, Abraxas is heavily crying over the other peacock.
’’I can’t believe you’re going to Cambridge to study maths. Even though you’re a certified genius, sometimes you’re too silly for that to shine through.’’
’’Why is it maths in our language and math in America?’’
Tom sighs. ’’Because Americans cannot spell, Abraxas, we’ve gone over this.’’
’’Seems too big of a generalisation to make about a whole country, though? Don’t you think?’’ Abraxas is thankfully using this to distract himself from the underlining doom of taking his pets to the vet. Tom, being a good boyfriend, will humour him. But at what cost? At what cost, he wonders as she stares into the joyless eyes of the albino peacock in his lap. It pecks him straight in the nose. Tom is in so much pain.
Abraxas is up next and Tom helps him usher the peacocks into the office. The vet looks at Abraxas and then at Tom and then only after doing this does he take a look at the peacocks. ’’My happy couple’s back.’’ He comments.
Tom has a lot of things to say about this inappropriate comment until he realises that, right, Abraxas’ peacocks are somehow gay. The odds amaze him. Because Abraxas has peahens on Malfoy properties. But the peahens are apparently very stale in personality, like bread. Or so Tom’s been told. He, personally, likes bread. It’s sustenance.
Abraxas grabs hold of Tom’s hand and leans on him for support. Tom purses his lips and allows this act of terror to be done on him.
’’My babies.’’
’’When my snake was sick you called it nature taking its normal course of action.’’
’’Nagini was very old, Tom. That snake, were it a person, could have fought in World War II. Your snake was Partisan old.’’ Then, because Abraxas is a good person deep down inside, ’’May it rest in peace.’’
’’Thank you.’’ Tom whispers. Abraxas leans even harder on Tom then. Tom’s lips twitch upward in a small, unexpected smile.
The peacocks have missed a shot. That’s the entire debacle.
’’I asked my parents, Tom, I did. I asked them to take care of my birds and they said they would make proper arrangements in our abscence.’’ Huffy: ’’They obviously did not. Ergo, I’m going to put my parents in a nursing home.’’ Abraxas says and happily croons at his birds as Tom opens the doors for him. Holding two peacocks under one’s arms makes for an interesting sight, but Abraxas doesn’t mind. He’s a rugby player at Hogwarts and has the physical strength of multiple Tom Riddles.
’’So, are you still going to be a surgeon?’’
’’I’m considering IT.’’ Tom’s eyes are glued on the road and his pulse is quickening in a pace that is not medically sound.
’’Why?’’ Abraxas laughs. He’s checking the rear-view mirror. After they unload the birds at Malfoy Manor, Abraxas has sworn to take Tom out on a proper date.
’’I need the job security, Abraxas.’’ Tom whispers and drums his hands against the glove compartment. He glances over to Abraxas’ feet and watches him drive with immense ease. ’’You had to have had lots of lessons, right?’’
’’I’ll teach you to drive if you like, Tom.’’ Abraxas winks and looks away from the road. Tom knows he’s quite handsome, but he doesn’t want to die because his looks are too distracting.
’’Watch the road, please!’’
’’CAW!’’
The peacocks in the backseat agree. Tom glances back to them and blinks. ’’Did you put seat belts over them?’’
’’Of course, I did!’’ Abraxas is appalled at the lack of safety regulative coursing through Tom’s blood. ’’I don’t want them to get hurt.’’
Tom looks out front, raises his hands in defeat, and whispers to himself: ’’I picked this man.’’
Once the peacocks have been safely taken home and tucked in – Tom squints at this – Abraxas offers Tom to take him out in the countryside where Tom can learn to drive in peace.
Then, very pointedly, Abraxas points to Tom’s new phone. ’’And you can take some good landscape photos.’’
’’I have this phone for emergencies.’’
Abraxas sends Tom a meme. They’re loitering around Abraxas’ car, waiting until they’ve satisfied their meme and social media need. The countryside doesn’t have good reception.
Tom looks at the meme Abraxas has sent him. It’s a pepe meme, but instead of a frog it’s a snake. He feels cherished.
Tom Riddle only needs to look at the rest of the messages to realise that getting Abraxas to send him memes makes only a small part of his day kind, whereas the bigger part is filled with – Tom shudders – messages from other people that he doesn’t even like.
Walburga Black video calls him.
Tom looks at Abraxas in horror.
Abraxas snort laughs into his hand. With his other one he clicks answer.