Work Text:
Tom hated the holidays. It wasn't because he was an orphan (and so lacked family) and it wasn't for lack of gifts (he didn't want useless trinkets from people he didn't like) What he truly hated were the well-meaning people who invited him to gatherings out of pity.
He didn't need pity. He had always been alone, and had always preferred it that way. People were annoying, clingy, pathetic. Everyone wanted something from him, and expected to be thanked for every morsel of care they offered.
His idea of a perfect Christmas was to be left alone with his books. It seemed Harry had other plans for him, though.
“No.”
“Tom-”
“I’m not going to the Weasley's.”
“But-”
“I said no.”
Harry swept a hand through his already mussed hair. “Why not? No one's going to be here, the cafeteria will be closed-”
“I'm sure I can stock up on enough food to last a weekend, Harry.”
“-and I think it would be good for you to get out of the apartment occasionally.”
“Really?” Tom sneered. “That's what you're going with? I leave when I want, and go wherever I want.”
“Not with people, though, and-”
“I don't need people. Especially not on the holidays.” Tom scoffed. He rolled his eyes at Harry's stubborn expression. “I would think you'd understand, since you’re also an orphan.”
Harry shrugged. “That's why it's nice with the Weasley's. They treat me like family. They even invite my godfather.”
“How nice of them.”
“I'm just saying, they're good people and Mrs. Weasley specifically asked me to invite you.”
“Tell her thank you very much, but no.”
“But-”
“No, Harry.”
A knock at the door interrupted their mulish glaring contest.
“Harry!” Came a muffled yell from the other side.
Harry looked away first. “That'll be Ron.”
“Have fun,” Tom sneered. He began stalking to his room before Harry had even picked up his bag.
“Tom!”
He turned at his doorway and frowned at his roommate. “What?”
“I, uh-” Harry fiddled with the zipper on his bag. “I thought you'd like-”
“No,” Tom said again, attempting to be even more emphatic. “I'm not going.”
Harry sighed. “Have a merry Christmas, I guess.”
“Same to you,” Tom responded, firmly closing the door. Leaning against it, he listened to the boys bickering as Harry answered the door.
“Where's Tom?”
“He's not coming.”
“Told ya he wouldn't.”
“I know.” Harry sounded resigned, and Tom frowned at the frisson of guilt that pierced him. Shaking his head, he reminded himself that he didn't need to follow every one of Harry's whims. His roommate could stand to be disappointed on occasion.
“Watcha got there?”
“Nothing,” Harry said quickly. “We need to catch the bus. Come on.”
“But what is that? Is that a-”
The door slammed shut and Tom sullenly sat on his bed. I don't need to feel guilty, he told himself, I want to be alone. He repeated it over and over again, until he could pretend it was true.