Fears

Chapter 13: Siderodromophobia

Summary:

Siderodromophobia- Fear of trains, railroads or train travel.

~Tom just wanted a peaceful train ride, and this boy wasn't part of his plan. Though with his arms around him he didn't really care much after all.

-Rating: Explicit

-Relationships: Tom Riddle/Harry Potter

-Warning/Tags: Time Travel!Harry, Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, This ending tho!

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The last look he gave the women dressed all in grey was a kind smile. He had to keep up his act in front of the orphanage's head lady in order to keep Dumbledore off his back. Letting his hateful gaze fall on the muggles passing him, he quickly grabbed up his few belongings and passed through the wall into the 9 ¾ station.

The whole way to the train he got small acknowledging nods from the pureblood family's, and girlish smiles from all the first years admiring his beauty. Though Tom was well sought after and appreciated by all, he wished for some time alone between the noisy orphanage and his noisy school. Finding an empty cabin where he was sure he wouldn't be bothered, Tom settled in by the window to wait.

As the bell struck, he saw the last figures running towards the train, he was always on time and found those arriving late to be pathetic. Reaching a hand over as the train jumped forward, he let his still infant snake free of the confines of his trunk. Tom rolled his eyes at the sound of running feet, he had only wished for quiet, and now he would have to set up a silencing spell to achieve it.

With his wand raised and the spell on his lips, Tom nearly had a heart attack as the door was thrown open. Before he could deny the boy a seat, the door was closed and the boy was getting comfortable. The rudeness of the boy showed his blood status like a badge. Huffing, Tom turned to the window to ignore the other.

Things passed in silence for the first half hour, Tom was happy that the other made no move to speak. He had come to the decision it wouldn't hurt to at least look and see what the boy looked like. His eyes drifted and took in the sight before him. He scoffed at the messy hair, but part of him wanted to loose his fingers wrapped up in it. The tan skin and calloused fingers showed the boy worked outside often, which showed his lack of status further. He let himself take in the scars on the boys hands and arms that weren't covered, and soon found himself at his neck, tracing it up to his mouth. Tom licked his lips and imagined the taste, especially if it was slick with sweat from the sun. Coughing into his hand to chase away the thoughts, Tom's eyes locked with the brightest emeralds he had ever seen. These were eyes could put any jeweler out of business, Tom recognized the killing curse in them. He attempted to hold the gaze of those shining orbs, but was interrupted by the sounds of the door opening, the old lady and her tray stepping inside.

"Any treats for you young lads?"

Tom nearly cursed the women for pulling the boy's attention away. He went the easy way instead and simply stared out the window, the other boy spoke up.

"Here, I'll take however much..." the sound of coins rattling could be heard, "however much this will buy thank you." He heard the women laugh lightly. "Laddy, this will buy half the cart." Tom's eyes jerked up at that. The other simply nodded and accepted the large offering of food. He couldn't help but judge the boys pile of sweets that stacked higher than it rightly should.

When his stomach moved at the thought of eating real food, Tom turned and stared back out the window. Before he could be lost in a daze he felt something hit him. The complaint was on the tip of his tongue until he noticed the wrapped tart in his hand, the boy was bent over, and sat up after a small clink was heard by Toms feet. His foot knocked the butter beer and he glowered at the boy.