art fart

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

Chang? Cho Chang of Ravenclaw?

What was so special about her? Tom was so much better!

If Harry wanted to surround himself with a genius who had and an air of self-entitlement, he could literally just sit with Tom at the Slytherin table. 

Tom had better grades than Chang. Tom was Head Boy. Tom was liked by most of the school. Chang’s attitude and interests were banal and she couldn’t seem to choose who she liked. Diggory or Potter? Tom was obvious with his interest in Harry only.

If Harry was looking for black hair, Tom was there. If he wanted fair skin, Tom was again there. And blue eyes were far more interesting than brown in Tom’s opinion. In every way, he was just a better choice of date than Cho bloody Chang!

The only thing the two had in common was being on Quidditch teams! Tom and Harry grew up in the same orphanage and had been friends and shared the same room for years! Tom knew Harry better than anyone could. So why was Harry drawn to Cho Chang? Was Tom not being obvious enough? Should he perhaps do the Gryffindor thing and just snog the other teen senseless?

He glared over the menu in his hands. He had no desire to purchase anything, he simply wanted to glower at the two Quidditch Captains seated a few yards away. Chang was laughing and patting Harry’s forearm flirtatiously. Her eyelashes - which weren’t as full and thick as Tom’s, he should add - were fluttering.

Tom toyed with the idea of setting her delicate thread hair clip aflame. No one would know it was him.

Suddenly, Harry leaned forward and Tom could feel his jaw uncharacteristically dropping as his mind went along with the first assumption it came up with. The menu in hands was already melting under the bottled up pressure of his enraged magic and emotions.

Chang too leaned in. The Heir of Slytherin was ready to murder.

A few seconds passed by, before Harry sat back and then stood, grabbing his coat. He gave a wave and then turned around and made direct eye contact with Tom.

He felt that telltale about-to-vomit sensation in his stomach. He’d been caught. How terribly unSlytherin of him.

Tom was going into the Chamber of Secrets later just so he could blast some statues apart.

“Hi, Tom. Did you enjoy the front row seat to my date?” asked Harry as he sat down across from the Slytherin, tossing his coat on the remaining free chair at the table.The young man sent a curious look to the half melted menu, and smirked. “You know, you could have asked me out at any time in the past three years. If you had, I wouldn’t have to suffer through these awkward dates where I have to let everyone down easy.”

For the second time that day, Tom’s jaw nearly met the table.

He glanced over toward Chang’s table, and found the young woman pouting into her cup of tea. Yes, that was the face of delicious heartbreak.

The childish glee building in his gut from the realisation that Harry had basically stated that he wanted to date Tom and no one else over the past 3 years, made him deliriously pleased.

“Tom, you’re such a drama queen.”

But Harry’s smile was fond. 

Tom won in the end! Chang could go suck on a Horklump!

A/N: I know it’s probably Ginny since the girl with Harry has freckles, but Cho worked better for the idea I had in mind.

Horklump- mushroom shaped creature covered in black bristles.

Also, let us draw attention to Extra Tom Riddle™.

THIS IS GREAT AAAAAAAHHHH

“Well this is just tasteless,” Tom sneered as he pinched a bit of white fabric in order to stretch the t-shirt out a bit. It wasn’t exactly his size and he didn’t like how tight it was around his pectorals.

Harry huffed and sent him a smirk. “It’s true though.”

And yes, it was indeed true. Harry’s shirt said [HARRY FUCKING POTTER] while Tom’s said [FUCKING HARRY POTTER]. The words even glittered with their respective House colours just for good measure.

“It just doesn’t sound right,” Tom nearly whinged. But not totally though, because he was a Slytherin and true Slytherins did in no such manner, whinge.

Humming, Harry nodded and flicked his wand thrice. Instantly, the letters on both of their shirts shifted down a spot as a new word appeared in the same blocky font.

The new message on Tom’s shirt read thus: [I’M FUCKING HARRY POTTER]. Harry’s plainly stated, [I’M HARRY FUCKING POTTER]. A vast improvement if anyone were to ask his opinion.

“We look great!”

Tom’s pout would forever be seared into Harry’s memory.

YESSSS THANK YOU I LOVE IT WHEN TOM IS MISERABLE