Chapter Text
Harry wasn't sure what he had expected of Hogwarts university, but the reality was better than he had dreamed. Hermione would have told him it was because he lacked imagination — which was rich considering how much effort she had to put into art and creative writing in high school — but he knew the real issue was that he'd had so few good experiences in life.
"What d'ye think?" Ron asked, shifting the box of Harry's belongings he was carrying.
Harry looked around the ground floor of the dorm he'd be living in for his Freshman year. It was comfortably worn in, but not threadbare or in poor repair. It just looked like what he thought a home should be. The carpets were a warm maroon with flattened trails where students walked. The wooden walls glowed dully in the subdued lighting.
He had grown up in the Dursley's house; white and beige with gray accents. There were no fingerprints, no squeaky steps, no muddy welcome mats. Harry himself had ensured that. He had spent years slaving away in that house. It was strange to think that someone else would be cleaning here.
"It's nice… real nice," Harry finally answered. He shrugged at Ron's incredulous look. "Kinda like your place."
Ron wrinkled his nose. "I don't know about your house, but most people don't think mine is great."
"It's a home. People live there. People who love each other. That's better than what I had."
Rolling his eyes, Ron gestured towards the line of people waiting for the elevator. "We doing that, or going up the stairs?"
"It's only one floor up. We can do that."
"You'd hope so," Ron grumbled, leading the way towards the door marked 'stairs,' "Mad eye keeping us running all summer and all."
"Coach Moody has a point, you know. Not going to win if we don't have any stamina."
Ron scoffed in response.
The carpet on the stairs was not nearly as worn as the lobby, and Harry had the feeling people avoided taking them. Their loss, he thought; only just now hearing the elevator head back downstairs.
"What's the apartment number?" Ron hollered over his shoulder, opening the stairwell door and stepping through without holding it for his friend.
Harry rolled his eyes and pulled it open — juggling the two boxes he was carrying — and followed after. "Two oh three."
"That's convenient. It's right here."
Harry shifted to look around his friend. His apartment was one over from the stairs, which was, indeed, convenient. "Guess I will take the stairs then."
"Your funeral."
The elevator dinged and a few people stepped out. One of them was Hermione. She was animatedly speaking with a dark haired boy, who was listening with cool politeness; face blankly staring until she glanced over at him. His dark eyes briefly met Harry's when Hermione pointed him out.
"Harry!" She called, grinning her familiar bucktoothed smile. Trotting down the hall, she quickly gestured between the boys. "The tall redhead is Ron, and the other is Harry. This is Tom"
"A pleasure," Tom intoned, tone as neutral as his smile.
"He's the other scholarship winner!" Hermione exclaimed.
"So another know-it-all?" Ron snarked, rolling his eyes at Hermione's glare. "Nice to meet you or whatever, but we're here to help Harry drop his shit off, remember?"
Hermione frowned. "You're being rude, Ronald. I'm not the late one."
"The apartment is right here, Hermione," Harry interrupted, pointing his shoulder at the door.
A flicker of something crossed Tom's face before he held up a key labeled 203. "That's my apartment."
"Oh. Guess you guys are roommates," Hermione smiled, stepping back so Tom could unlock the door.
Tom gave him a quick once over, and Harry fought the urge to flinch. He plastered a fake smile on his face, wishing he had bothered to wear more presentable clothes. He hadn't expected his roommate to be so standoffish and critical.
"Your stuff already in there?" Harry inquired as Tom politely held the door open for them.
"Yes."
"Didn't know they gave the keys out any earlier than noon."
"I had extenuating circumstances."
"Like what?" Ron demanded, thunking Harry's box onto the kitchen counter.
"None of your business," Tom answered calmly. He paused at a nearby door and locked eyes with Harry. "This is my room."
Harry shrugged. "Sounds good."
Tom nodded and gave Hermione a neutral smile again. "A pleasure to meet you, Hermione. I'm sure I will see you around."
"We have a lot of the same classes," Hermione agreed, ignoring Ron as he made faces. "We should study together sometime."
"Perhaps," Tom allowed. He shot Harry another inscrutable look before opening his door and stepping inside. "Have a good afternoon."
Ron snorted as the door closed. "Good afternoon? Who is this freak?"
"Ron!" Hermione scolded, crossing her arms and glaring.
"What? He's acting all hoity toity," Ron turned to face Harry. "Offer still stands for you to stay with us."
"Where's he going to sleep, Ron?" Hermione scoffed, "at the foot of your bed?"
He flushed a brilliant red and scowled. "We'll get one of those inflatable beds or something."
"If I wanted to live with someone else, I would have taken Sirius' offer," Harry pointed out, setting his boxes on the counter next to the one Ron had carried. "I want to do my own thing for a while."
"With someone like him?"
Hermione aimed a kick at Ron's shin, who easily dodged it. "There's nothing wrong with Tom. I'm sure he will be an excellent roommate."
"You would think that-"
Harry rolled his eyes and decided to ignore their argument in favor of examining his new home. Immediately to the left of the entrance was the kitchenette.
Against the wall there was a white countertop — a microwave and an electric kettle taking up most of the space — and a single sink. The cabinets underneath were medium brown with golden knobs. A mini fridge stood off to the side.
Past that was a small brown table with two matching chairs. The room then opened up into a medium sized living room with a maroon loveseat in the middle. A small TV stand with a 32' TV sat in front of it. There were two bookshelves on opposite sides. Directly across from Tom's room was another door.
"What's in there?" Ron asked.
Hermione snorted. "I assume it's Harry's room."
"She's right," Harry said, stepping in. The room was about the same size as Dudley's second bedroom, but much more open without all of his cousin's trash. There was a brown three drawer dresser to his right, and a bare twin sized bed to his left. A desk sat under the only window.
"Pretty bare," Ron commented, peering over Harry's shoulder.
"We'll have to go shopping," Hermione agreed.
"There's some stuff over here," Harry said, opening the closet that was right behind the bedroom door. Inside there were sheets, blankets, and pillows, sitting beside a laundry shoot.
"They clean your laundry here?" Hermione inquired.
Harry shrugged. "I think just the bedding and stuff. Not personal laundry."
"Better than me," Ron sighed. "The twins said I have to do their laundry and stuff, since they're letting me stay for free."
"That seems fair," Hermione said, moving out of the way so the boys could exit. "What next?"
"Unpack?" Harry suggested, glancing at Tom's closed door. "You think he's going to stay in there?"
"You wanted to do your own thing," Ron pointed out grumpily. "Easy to do if you never see the guy."
"I suppose…"
"He'll come out eventually," Hermione said decisively, already at the counter with Harry's boxes. "Is there any organization to this? What goes where?"
A few hours later — half an hour spent on dispersing Harry's sparse belongings and the remaining time spent going to various stores — the three of them leaned against the kitchen counter and surveyed their work.
"Well, it looks like someone lives here now," Ron said, staring at his phone.
Hermione smiled at Harry. "Think this will work for you?"
"Yeah," he smiled back, "better than it would have been without you guys."
"My brothers want to come over. They said they'll bring a pizza; have a little party."
"That's not such a good-"
"Not right now, Ron," Harry protested. "I haven't gotten a chance to talk to Tom yet."
"About what? Having friends over?" Ron scoffed. "He can't tell you no."
"That's not the point, Ronald," Hermione interrupted. She shushed him when he opened his mouth. "The point is that it's rude to just throw parties without checking. It's Tom's home as well."
"Well, he can have his friends over sometime. If he has friends."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Maybe another time, Ron. I'm not going to spring the twins on him with no warning. I have to live with this guy."
"Already said you don't HAVE to," Ron grumbled, shoving his phone in his back pocket. "You could still come live with us."
"I want to stay here. I like this dorm and I like being on campus."
"It'll be fine," Hermione said, with a special glower for Ron. Checking her phone, she raised her eyebrows at Harry. "You ok with us going, then? I want to get to my dorm, and I'm sure Ron has something he needs to do as well."
"I do? Shit!" Ron winced when Hermione kicked his shin. "I guess I do have to go; somewhere far from her."
"Ronald!"
Harry escorted the bickering pair to the elevator and waited with them until the door closed. Sighing, he returned to his dorm.
Tom leaned against the wall between his room and the bathroom. The electric kettle was on, and Harry could hear the water beginning to boil.
Tom raised an eyebrow at Harry. Gesturing towards the Hogwarts football banner on the wall, he inquired, "Are you a player, or just a fan?"
"A player," Harry cautiously answered. He had been leery of decorating their shared space, but even Hermione had thought having a school poster up would be alright. "For the Gryffindor team."
Tom's aristocratic face formed a sneer more naturally than it did a smile. The kettle's whistle distracted him from whatever he had been planning on saying. Striding across the room — brushing past Harry so closely that he stumbled back into the wall — Tom pulled a mug from one of the cabinets and filled it. He pulled a tea packet out of a white box, set it into the mug, and set a timer on his phone.
Harry stood still, warily watching his roommate. Tom seemingly ignored him, though, and Harry relaxed enough to step away from the wall. When that elicited no reaction, he took another step towards the kitchen. Tom didn't look up until his timer went off, and he'd pulled the teabag from the mug.
Harry cleared his throat as Tom took a pensive sip; eyeing him over the top of his mug. "So, Tom-"
Tom set his tea down and stepped into Harry's space, backing him into the counter. "You may keep your poster, but do not decorate anywhere else from now on."
"That's fair-" Harry began, pressing as far into the cabinets as he could.
Tom used the few inches of height he had over Harry to loom. "I appreciate that you sent your companions away. There will be no parties here."
Harry scoffed, meeting Tom's unblinking stare. "You can't say no to my friends coming over."
"There is a difference between having friends over and throwing a party," Tom pointed out calmly, before returning to his tea. Taking a slow sip, examining Harry the whole time, Tom swallowed and pushed away from the counter. "But I'm sure we will work it out."
"I guess…" Harry said, keeping his body turned to Tom's as the other boy returned to his room.
Pausing halfway through the doorway, Tom lifted his cup in a friendly salute. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight," Harry replied, but Tom's door was already closed.