Chapter Text
Tom Riddle had always seen Harry Potter as another simple inferior soul whom should have not been blessed with magic; mediocre in studies, Harry Potter only excelled at vapid things, like flying on a broomstick.
Tom, on the other hand, was clearly the epitome of a Warlock, the superior wizard destined for greatness.
As the years went by, Tom’s unavoidable descent into the dark arts increased, and so did his interest in Harry Potter.
Tom found himself drawn to Potter, for Slytherin’s bearded ass, he didn’t know why. He spent hours observing him, tilting his head at the way the boy laughed so carefreely with his friends, the way Tom could never be. He craved that.
And there they are again, those insufferable green eyes that seemed to see right through him whenever Potter noticed he was looking.
Tom, utterly in denial, decided that the reason for his obsession toward the curve of Harry Potter’s red lips was the boy’s newfound and uprising talent in Defense Against the Dark Arts. After all, of course, Potter used those lips to chant spells. Makes sense.
No matter how hard he fought, every damned time Tom and Potter were paired with one another, their mock duel would end in a tie. Potter hadn’t shown any sign weakness. It was maddening, having an equal.
The day every piece got into its proper place was a simple dull Thursday, until it wasn’t anymore.
Potter and the female Weasley were talking in the great hall, walking towards the Gryffindor table. Suddenly, the girl leaned in, as Potter was watching her with a puzzled expression. Tom didn’t know what possessed him. He got up and in a second he found himself near the pair, grabbing Potter by his shirt collar he smashed their lips together.
When reason came back into his brain, he realised that he was kissing Harry Potter. Why was he kissing Harry Potter? A wave of panic hit him, he released the boy and fled the great hall.
On his way to the Slytherin common room, the image of a shocked, frozen Potter couldn’t leave his mind.
That night Tom skipped dinner and he couldn’t rest his mind, he began thinking of Potter in a way he never had before, and it was like unlocking a hidden monster, emotions washed all over him. Potter had always been kind, courteous, never loud like the Gryffindor Tom couldn’t stand, always polite. And he was beautiful too… Merlin, thought Tom, I’m falling for a jock.
It was another simple uneventful day when their routine began.
Tom and Harry - yes, he became Harry at some point in his head, were sat in silence in the school library. Silence was broken first by Harry, with a joke that made so little sense that Tom had to think about it for at least five minutes before telling him to shut up, breaking the silence yet again. And so it began their bantering library time, they never had to tell the other one to show up, they would find themselves at the same table every evening.
Meanwhile, Harry hadn’t brought up the accident in the great hall, and since nobody was talking about it Tom almost convinced himself that he had hallucinated it all.
Tom never changed his mind about Quidditch and broomsticks, but he started attending the Gryffindor matches. To be polite, of course.
On the matter of Tom and his passion for the dark arts, well, that was changing somehow. Every time he fought against Harry, Tom felt a bright light claiming the darkness within him. He wanted to extinguish it, yet feared if he only tried it would extinguish him instead.
It was the first time they went to the astronomy tower after curfew when Tom allowed his hand to search for Harry’s one. Their fingers brushed, Harry smiled, and Tom felt something. He wondered what it would have been like to see the world through his insufferably hopeful eyes.
Harry laced their fingers together and looked Tom in the eyes, the smile growing bright. It seemed to scream “I see you”. Tom shuddered.
“I see you,” Harry had said. And in that moment, Tom saw myself through his eyes - not brilliant or calculating, but human. Just Harry. And maybe, that was enough.
On the last day of their last term of school, there they stood again on the balcony of the Astronomy tower, the celebration below fading into the background.
Harry leaned against the banister, his gaze thoughtful as he surveyed the castle grounds for the last time. Tom silently joined him, their shoulders almost touching. So much had changed between them over the past years, yet in this moment they were simply two boys reminiscing on the place that became their strange yet beloved home.
Harry turned his head towards Tom with a smile, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Do you remember that time you coloured Snape's hair pink because he gave me a detention?"
Tom chuckled, “How could I forget? You wouldn't stop laughing for a week.”
“He never found out! I still can’t believe this.”
They shared more memories - both old rivalries and newfound affection. Harry had slowly chipped away Tom’ walls over the years, illuminating parts of Tom’s soul he never thought he had. He'd become the light to his darkness, guiding him towards a horizon he’d never dreamed of reaching.
As the sun set in a blaze of colours, Harry took his hand and laced their fingers together. Tom met his gaze, filled with promise for what was about to come beyond these hallowed walls.
“We'll face it together,” Harry said softly, it was like he was reading his mind, but Harry was no legilimens.
Tom nodded, full with emotion, for once allowing himself to hope that Harry’s light might have been enough to show him the way, now and forever.
Hand in hand, they walked into the unknown future, together