Thomas Potter-Love is a Different Dimension

Kiss Me Right

Harry's Universe, Hogwarts Express, 1938

Tom Riddle POV:

He was finally going.

Sitting in the compartment on the Hogwarts Express, Tom's hands trembling, holding Hogwarts a History close to his chest. He was going. Leaving for Hogwarts to learn magic and be a wizard.

A wizard. Him.

Outside, there were other children. Wizard children. Others like him. Wizard parents sending them off, treating them right. No shouts of the devil, no eyes thinking they were odd. Betraying his own resolution not to look, outside his window a set of wizard parents kissing goodbye one boy with grey robes and blond hair.

Averting his eyes. He couldn't help but wonder if his father was out there somewhere. A wizard . He must be, for how else could Tom be a wizard if not because of him? His mother had died giving birth, he doubted she had an ounce of magic. Did his father not know he had a son? That was the only answer to why he had never come to take him. But things would be different now. He was special, different from the other boys in the orphanage, just like he knew he was. He was magical.

He was where he belonged. Leaving the dreadful muggles and the wretched bland place.

Leaving them all.

The train jolted, and his body shook a bit with the motion, his legs still small and thin, unnaturally pale skin against black robes, holding his back straight. His composure was still but everything in him was screaming, excited.

The compartment door slid open and the blond boy in grey robes was there at the door.

"Erm, can I sit here? I don't fancy sitting with my brother,"

Tom took too long to answer, and the blond asked twice. "Be my guest,"

He had seen other wizard children in Diagon Alley but was hesitant about approaching any of them. He was used to being alone. He didn't know what to say to this blond boy. Slightly resentful the other boy was wearing expensive glittery robes. Feeling very self-conscious of his own second-hand school robes. He had received school funds and thought it better to spend them on books than clothes.

A small part of him regretted the decision.

"I'm Aethon Malfoy, yours?" The blond held a hand out.

Tom did not take it, unsure why, "Tom Riddle,"

Aethon Malfoy had his hand out for an awkwardly long while before wiping his blond hair back, not addressing Tom's unwillingness to shake his hand. "I've never heard of a Riddle before, you from abroad?"

Tom shook his head, "London,"

"I've never seen you around before..." Aethon pulled the collar of his shirt under his grey robes, his eyes straying to the compartment door. Tom felt irritated, did the blond wish he chose a different compartment? Then by all means- leave. "Say, you're not muggle-born are you?"

Tom's instincts told him the question was dangerous, "What's a muggle-born?"

***

Tom had been so relieved to be sorted into a House. And not just any House, but Slytherin, the House of the Snakes! He could speak to snakes and wondered if that was an important reason he was chosen in the House of the ambitious and cunning. Strutting proudly, a masked calm, towards the Slytherin table...his tie turning green and silver.

His heart reassured of his destiny, his place.

Tom had eaten in silence, taking in the wonderful food. Almost weeping with joy at how magical everything was. The castle, the food, the enchantments in the air. It almost felt like a dream. Only he was a part of it, it was real. Tom vowed to learn everything as soon as he could.