Chapter Text
Tom hoped the new band member wouldn’t be a lunatic.
He looked appraisingly at the boy standing next to Weasley. Harry Potter was fifteen years old, the right age to fill the “cute younger brother” niche. Not that Potter was particularly cute. He was scrawny, with messy hair and unremarkable features.
No doubt feeling himself observed, Potter gave him a curious look. His eyes were startlingly green, so much so that it took Tom a second to paste a fake smile on his face.
Potter may have one good feature, after all. Which wasn’t bad: he had to be appealing enough to bring more success to the band.
But not appealing enough to overshadow Tom.
“Tom, this is Harry. He’s new to the industry, so I’d be grateful if you could look after him.”
“Of course, Mr Weasley. It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” The boy had a firm handshake, at least. “If you need anything, just ask me.” His smile radiated reassurance: he was both the older brother every girl could rely on and the handsome boy they dreamed to date.
“Thank you,” replied Potter simply. Weasley took his leave, and Tom started to show him around.
“We’ll be going on our first tour in a month, so you’ll have to rehearse our songs and choreographies extensively to catch up.”
Potter nodded. “It won’t be a problem. I’m used to long hours.” He didn’t elaborate, and Tom didn’t want to be the one to ask.
He didn’t usually have a problem making others tell him their whole life story with nothing more than a charming smile and a nod. Maybe Potter was shy, or simply not very talkative. This suited Tom fine, but he’d have to be more demonstrative with the fans. Crouch had gone too far with his eccentric shtick, but the red member had to show energy and passion. They already had Yaxley to play the quiet, bookish one.
“Do you have any questions?”
“Er… why am I here? K.O.W. is already topping the UK charts, and I don’t have any experience.”
Tom smiled charmingly. “None of us had any experience before joining either.”
“That’s not quite true. You’ve been acting for a very long time, have you?”
Tom easily hid a flash of displeasure. He didn’t like being contradicted, especially not by a little nobody like Potter. “I see you’ve followed my career, Harry. Are you a fan, perhaps?”
“No. Just saw you in some old commercials, that’s all.” Potter’s cheeks were tinged slightly pink, and Tom was pleased he wasn’t entirely impervious to his charm. As long as he wasn’t as clingy as Crouch.
“Anyway, acting and being part of a band like K.O.W. are nothing alike so I can also say I started as a newbie. Just relax and do your best, Harry.” He gave Potter one of his most dazzling smiles, but the boy just blinked at him, almost doubtfully.
Tom disliked him.
His first impression of Potter was only worsened by what happened on tour. Potter clearly took the job seriously and his performances did not shame the band, but he was still mediocre compared to Tom. So why was he gaining fans so quickly?
The more they played, the more people waved red lightsticks, and it irked Tom to no end. Potter’s popularity was well on its way to equal Crouch, and he’d been the second most popular member of K.O.W. and the only one who could potentially rival Tom.
Tom had approved Potter joining the band precisely to avoid having another Crouch. He’d thought there was no way a newbie from a no-name agency like Weasley’s could ever amount to anything.
Clearly, he’d miscalculated. Potter may not be the best dancer or singer and barely qualified as cute, but he had something unique: he was almost painfully earnest. He greeted his fans with genuine enthusiasm and that somehow made them swoon. It seemed that, in this era of carefully curated social media profiles, authenticity fetched a high price, and Potter was always his true self.
There was no way someone like him would survive the entertainment industry for more than a year or two. Waiting it out, however, was not acceptable: this was the tour that would launch Tom’s career worldwide, and he would not let a random brat steal the spotlight.
Should he dispose of Potter in the same way as he had Crouch? Tom did not like being that brutal, it carried such a high risk after all. Besides, unlike Crouch, Potter was not unreasonable. Bribing him into quitting might be possible, though having two members leave in such a short amount of time would be bad for the band’s image. Tom needed K.O.W. to remain successful until he ditched it.
He finally got an idea on how to deal with Potter while browsing Tumblr for fan content. It seemed Harry hadn’t just replaced Crouch in the band’s lineup, but also in the heart of the shipping community. The fans thought he and Tom looked cute together.
Playing on the shippers’ expectations was a low effort way to boost his own profile. Make every Harry fan into a Tomarry fan into a Tom fan. This way Potter would be useful to him before he crashed and burnt.
—
There was something wrong with Tom Riddle.
Nobody could smile that much, and be sincere. Not that Harry had ever caught him being anything less than helpful and polite. Maybe he was a huge slob at home to compensate for being flawless at work.
Harry didn’t think that was quite right, though. First, because Riddle was the vainest boy Harry had ever seen. He couldn’t even imagine him lounging around in pyjamas. Then, because Riddle seemed to have very little free time. He was the first to arrive and the last to leave. Yaxley and Malfoy were far from lazy, but Riddle worked twice as hard as them.
None of the band members socialised together. Harry thought it was a bit strange: they spent so much time together, shouldn’t they try and be friends? But, then, maybe Yaxley and Malfoy resented Riddle. Harry had looked at a few clips of earlier K.O.W. performances on YouTube to prepare himself, and it was obvious Riddle was the star of the band. The camera constantly tracked him as he thoroughly outshone the other members with his voice, his moves and, of course, his looks.
He really was very handsome. Too bad his smile had a plasticky quality to it.
Harry forced himself to stop staring at Riddle’s face before he started feeling like a stalker. It didn’t matter that the original members of the band didn’t like each other much, or that they didn’t like Harry, the newcomer they’d been saddled with just before their big tour. Harry was used to being disliked.
This was a job, and a much better paying one than he had ever hoped to get, before Mr Weasley had heard him humming to himself and scouted him out. As soon as he turned sixteen, he would no longer have to live with the Dursleys, but, to be truly free of them, he needed his own income.
So Harry put in as many hours as Riddle did, improved his singing and dancing, and embarked with some trepidation on K.O.W.’s first headlining tour.
Actually being on stage was exhilarating. For the first time in his life, people cheered for Harry. They wanted to talk to him, shake his hands and get his autographs. He'd never received so much attention, especially not female attention. It was nice.
Not that the life of a boy band member was completely rosy. The long, exhausting days, Harry didn't mind so much: he used to go to school, have a part-time job and do most of the chores at the Dursleys, after all. The many media appearances they had to make to promote the tour bothered him a lot more.
It was all so fake. They had to pretend to be friends, and Harry couldn't act for shit. His role was supposed to be that of the younger brother being looked after and doted on by the other band members, but each time Yaxley or Malfoy made a joke or told a cute anecdote about helping Harry, he felt his smile become increasingly fake.
Riddle was the worst. Riddle actually touched him, swinging his arm around Harry's shoulder as if they were close friends. Harry didn't usually mind casual touches like that, but the fact that it was all an act made it feel uncomfortable and unwelcome.
Riddle would never touch him if the cameras weren't rolling. He wasn't the touchy-feely type, not even with his own parents.
Which was why, when Riddle wiped some cream from the corner of his mouth in the middle of a cooking show, he almost gave Harry a heart attack.
This wasn't about pretending to be friends. The gesture was clearly romantic. Was Riddle… No, this had to be part of the act. But why?
Harry wasn't technically forbidden to date, but Mr Weasley had told him in a very apologetic manner that it would be better for his fan following to remain single, or at least be very discreet about any relationship.
And now Riddle was flirting with him on live television? It made no sense.
He didn't have to broach the topic himself because Riddle approached him after the show. “Your blushing wasn't bad, but you have to stop tensing up each time I touch you, Harry. The fans won't like that.”
“The fans?” he repeated dumbly.
Riddle's smile became smaller and more genuine. “You haven't heard about shipping, Harry?”
“I'm assuming you're not referring to shipping containers here.”
He laughed and Harry felt absurdly happy with himself. “No. I'm referring to our fans imagining us together in a romantic and sexual way. The most popular ships in the K.O.W. fandom are Lucan and Tomarry.”
“Do you mean… you and me, and Malfoy and Yaxley? But why?”
“Who knows? They also shipped me with Crouch before he left. I guess it’s that older/younger brother dynamic that titillates the fans. In any case, you need to play along, Harry.”
“Why?”
Riddle looked at him like he was an idiot before pasting his fake smile back on. “Because this is a very good way to drive up fan engagement and make the band more successful.”
“No,” said Harry bluntly.
Riddle obviously wasn’t used to being told no. Some of his anger seeped into his voice as he said, “May I ask why? I’ve barely touched you, but you’re acting as if I assaulted you. Are you a homophobe, Harry? Or maybe some kind of prude?”
“No! It’s just… it’s fake. You don’t like me, and I don’t even know you. I don’t want you to touch me.”
He looked stunned for a moment, then said coldly, “This is the entertainment industry, Potter. Do you think we actually have to like each other? I’m just asking you for some very light flirting in front of the cameras, or is that beyond your pathetic acting ability?”
Anger pierced Harry’s gut, and relief that Riddle had finally stopped it with the fake smiling. “I don’t want to do it. It’s hard enough to have to pretend to be friends, I’m not going to act as if I'm dating you.”
Riddle rolled his eyes. “We would not pretend to be dating, Potter. The fans don’t want us to date each other, or anyone else for that matter. They just want to daydream about us possibly doing dirty stuff behind closed doors so they can put it in their fanfictions. Why are you overreacting so badly?” He paused, then smiled almost wickedly. “Perhaps you like me touching you a little too much? You blushed pretty hard when I brushed your lips with my thumb.”
“No!” protested Harry, cursing his flaming cheeks.
“God, Potter, you’re a terrible liar. If you find me attractive, I don’t mind. As long as you don’t overdo it, it doesn’t change anything about our arrangement.”
“We don’t have an arrangement, you arrogant prick! I don’t find you attractive and I don’t want to fake flirt with you to raise your profile. Now, do I need to tell you no ten more times before it gets through your thick skull?”
Riddle paled, and his dark eyes flashed with anger. He looked a little bit scary, but also very hot. Harry’s stomach churned with both lust and discomfort.
“I don’t like being told no, Potter. I liked being lied to even less.” Very quickly, he pressed his lips to Harry’s. It was over in a fraction of second, but Harry’s heart was beating so fast it was almost as if it was trying to escape his ribcage. “You find me attractive. Very much so. Now, if you’re willing to show some of that attraction in front of the camera, I can make our little flirtation very pleasant for you. But, if you keep being obstinate, I’ll end your career in the industry. Is that clear?”
He babbled the first thing that went through his mind. “That… that was my first kiss.”
Riddle’s eyes widened and he laughed. “That’s your reaction to being threatened? You’re a strange one, Potter. I’ll leave you until tomorrow evening to make your decision. Make sure it’s a wise one.”