Fear [ Tomarry

Philophobia II

philo•pho•bia
(n.) fear of falling in love.

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Summary; Tom Riddle is fighting extremely hard against his strengthening feelings for a certain Harry Potter. Someone give him a lesson on 'how to show someone you love them without being a douche'.

Takes place in Riddle's era in Hogwarts, while Harry is still Gryffindor and Tom is still Slytherin.

Lucius and Draco are cousins, Hermione and Ron are included, and they are all the same age as Tom/Harry.

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The next day, they both had double-Potions, which meant that after that day, they only had one class to complete their potion. Potter, although hated by Tom, wasn't important enough to fail a potion for. Tom would have to put up with the little Gryffindor for the next couple days, and then he was home free to be Potter's personal devil.

He was more comfortable being the devil.

Tom (who always showed up to Potions early) was setting up the equipment when Potter sauntered in, a proud look on his face as he came to a complete stop in front of the Slytherin. He seemed not to notice that his red tie was undone.

"Hey, Tom," Potter greeted cheerfully. It was something Tom always noticed he did— whenever he wasn't mad at Tom, Potter would call him 'Tom', but as soon as the got into a scrap it was 'Riddle'. That little change in name meant a lot when it came to Potter.

"Hello," Tom greeted politely. In the back of his mind, he thought about the tie— why wasn't it done up? Did Potter just... shag someone? And why does Tom care? He doesn't!

The Gryffindor took a small step towards him, and Tom was hit with Potter's aroma; treacle tart and broomstick polish, with a hint of orange shampoo. It was stronger today than any other day. Huh. Perhaps he made his own perfume?

Tom almost snorted at that. Eau de Potter sounds like a really bad brand name.

"Do I smell better today?" Potter asked, a smirk on his face. Whatever that was for, Tom thought, it meant no good.

"You smell the same as every day," Tom deadpanned, "terrible."

The smirk on the boy's face quickly vanished as he gazed at the other in silent anger. "What?" He snapped. "Tell me the truth, Riddle."

Tom sighed. Potter was angry at him again. Wonderful. "Would you like me to elaborate, Potter? You smell the exact same as you did yesterday, but it smells stronger, so if you think you smell better by not taking a shower you are sorely mistaken."

"I can't smell the same as yesterday!" Potter exclaimed, drawing the attention of Slughorn, who just quickly looked away— he didn't want Tom to get into trouble, most likely. "I mean I just can't... unless..."

Potter gave him such a look that had Tom squirming, even if it was only slightly. Those emotional green eyes were so Merlin damned cute that Tom couldn't think properly. Perhaps that was why he just referred to them as cute. "What?" Tom drawled. "Never seen me before? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"Yeah," Potter said softly, blinking slowly up at Tom, who was subconsciously started to get stiff down below. "Yeah, sorry... do you need any help with anything? I can help if you want."

Tom frowned at the tiny boy. He had never heard Potter speak in such a voice to him before, not even when they were younger. What was going on? "Well, you can't just sit there and be pretty," he grumbled, "so pick up the knife and start cutting the wormwood."

Potter's face quickly turned a dark shade of red but he quickly reached out and grabbed the knife, which inconstant murmuring of 'yeah, sure' and 'no problem'. Seriously, what was going on with him?

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After dinner, Tom was in the library studying for Arithmancy. It sounded fun when he signed up for it. Now... it was fun when he wasn't up to his neck with homework and N.E.W.T work. The room was empty, so it was very apparent when two of his followers, Lucius and Draco, came running in with heavy breaths. They stopped running near the entrance but they still sounded short of breath when they reached Tom.

"My Lord," they greeted at the same time.

Tom didn't even need to look up. "Yes?"

"We were walking back from dinner when we saw the Golden Trio walking down the corridors, so we decided to follow them," Draco rushed.

'The Golden Trio' was what everyone called Potter and his two friends, Granger and Weasley. Tom smirked. "Do continue, I do find myself all the anxiety to hear your story."

"We overheard them talking about Potter spraying himself with Amortentia," Lucius said, spitting out the boy's name. "Perhaps he has a secret admirer?"

Tom stilled his quill. Amortentia?

Do I smell better today?

That little minx.

The aspiring Dark Lord quickly got up off his seat and cleaned his supplies, which greatly scared the two cousins. "I must take a leave," he murmured before swiftly leaving the library, making his way to the Room of Requirements.

Once he was inside his own secret room (which he mentally designed to look exactly like the King's room) he started to break down. He flung his quill and books across the room and flung himself onto the King-size bed in anguish.

Potter thought Tom liked him. Harry knew Tom liked him.

Did he?

He wore Amortentia that smelled exactly like him.

Tom... liked Harry?

Oh, no. He liked Harry. He liked Harry Potter.