#tom riddle: famous model and rumored to be Slytherin's heir

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five times they had an unresolved tension, and that one time it got resolved part 1/? — 

 Tom is a household name in the modeling industry. Graduated from the prestigious Hogwarts School of Arts, he signed an exclusive contract with the renowned designer Salazar Slytherin, and started walking on London’s Fashion Week. 

 Ever since then, the model’s face would regularly grace Prophet’s cover, showcasing designs fresh from Slytherin’s sketches. He became everyone’s favorite in less than a year, even Cedric Diggory, who debuted in Ilvermorny’s Winter Collection paled in comparison. 

 Harry skimmed through the glossy pages of Prophet’s newest issue, barely listening to Hermione’s ramblings about the company’s work ethic. "Really though, Harry. The pressure’s really high. I have to stay until seven in the evening every day to clean up after the photoshoots. And general meeting starts at seven in the morning.”

 Despite her protests’, Hermione seemed to be proud of herself for being able to get accepted as an intern in Prophet, which is her lifelong dream ever since she was eleven. 

 “He’s everywhere I swear.” Harry remarked, staring at Tom’s face on the magazine. Hermione hummed, “He’s Slytherin’s favorite. Shows up in every season of Mosmordre’s look-book,“ 

 "Everyone likes him; Prophet’s sales doubled when he was featured on the cover. Something Slughorn took a mental note of. Our director’s practically head over heels for him.”

 Letting out an amused laugh, Harry slide the magazine across the table, giving it back to Hermione. 

“Well, at least you got a stable job.” He remarked, mumbling a thanks as a waitress puts his drink on the table. She snorted, “Well, It’s not my fault you decline to intern at Prophet together.“ 

 "My speciality is with nature, not people.” He retorted, pouring too much sugar into his tea. 

“And how’s your application to Fantastic Beasts and— What’s the name?“ 

“Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. Still haven’t got the news. they probably rejected my pictures again.”

Both went silent; Hermione flipping through Prophet and Harry drinking his hot tea, cursing silently as the tea slowly burnt his tongue. “Anyways, how’s Sumatra?” Hermione asked, changing the subject. “Its exotic. My memory card’s full of shades of green up and brown below.”

 Harry unzipped his camera bag, revealing a few of his best shots in the tropical forests. Hermione’s mouth gaped in awe, remarking that the view reminds her of the forests’ in Amazon. “With this, Fantastic Beasts have absolutely no reason to reject your pictures. Look at them! I’ll pay for them!“ 

 "Thank you for the mental support, Hermione. But only three freelancers got featured in each issue. I can’t set my hopes too high.” 

Hermione made a dismissive gesture, “Nonsense, I would hex anyone who rejects this masterpiece.” 

“Neville helped me in most shots though, he ought to get credit for that too.” 

“Neville? I heard his pictures got showcased in last month’s exhibition.” Harry’s eyebrows perked, “Really?” 

Hermione stared at him, “This is why you got to pay more attention on what’s happening around you. Yes, Neville Longbottom is now an accomplished photographer, probably in process of being a professional and setting up his photo studio. So why don’t you start by interning at Prophet?” 

“Like I said, Hermione–” 

“I get it,” She interrupted, “It’s a matter of preference, but can’t you start by taking pictures of people? You could imagine them as trees or something.” She suggested. 

Harry knew their conversations are always going back to this matter. “People are different, Hermione. I simply prefer nature better.” 

“Yes, but one must settle with less if the situation calls for it.” 

Hermione has always been a persistent person; he couldn’t blame her, it was what made her top of the class, graduating with perfect scores. “I’ll think about it.” He finally replied dismissively.

 Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something, but refrained as she took a sip of her tea, which has been left on the table untouched for a bit too long. 

It was seven fifteen in the morning. Harry rubbed his eyes, his hands searching for the familiar thin object resting next to his nightstand. 

Wait, he thought. His alarm doesn’t ring until eight-thirty. 

Peering at the phone screen, Harry groaned. “’Ello?” 

“Harry! Are you free today?” Hermione’s voice resonated across his messy flat. “What?” Yawning as he got out of bed, Harry leans against the wall for support while searching for his spectacles on the floor. 

“Prophet’s photographer got sick, the usual fill in is out of the country. Can you fill in instead?” 

“Found it!” He mumbled, adjusting his spectacles on his nose. Hermione’s groan could be heard from the line, “You just woke up didn’t you?” 

Harry shrugged, “My circadian rhythm is not like the others.” 

“Anyways,” Hermione continued, “Can you fill in instead?” 

Sandwiching his phone in between his shoulder and his ears, Harry opened the fridge rather hastily, scanning for a bottle of orange juice inside. 

“So, I’m a fill in for a fill in?” He confirmed, pouring his orange juice on a tea cup. There was a pause. “You don’t seem delighted.” 

“Outstanding deduction, Mr. Holmes” His sarcastic remark earned a light groan from the other line. 

“Just a shot, and you’ll be free.” Harry took a shot of his orange juice, wondering how she will react to the new pun he just discovered. 

“Interesting, just tell me the time and I’ll be there.” 

Harry swore he could hear Hermione giggling. “Brilliant! I need you to be here at seven forty-five.” 

And he wondered why he agreed. 

Prophet’s headquarters is located in the heart of Diagon Alley, which also happens to be the place where the bloody traffic is. Slamming the taxi door behind him, Harry struggled to get past the sea of people, bumping into at least a dozen of people and more curses being directed at him ( in different languages too!). 

The entrance to Prophet requires a thorough body check; his bag was scanned, he had to walked through the x-ray at least three times before he remembered to put his Iphone 4 into the x-ray machine to be scanned. 

In the end, the security gave him the Visitor’s ID and told him to wait at the lobby, despite his reason of being the fill in of this fill in for this certain photoshoot. Harry couldn’t blame him; the fact that his reasoning has too few of an information has made him looked suspicious. 

“Harry!” A familiar voice shouted, and Harry turned to see his saviour Hermione running towards him. “Quick!” She yanked his wrist, dragging him across the lobby to the elevator. Hermione punched the floor, waiting for the doors to close before saying anything. Harry, who has earned a Doctorate in Reading Hermione’s Body Language, braced for the future attack. 

“Fucking Goyle. He must’ve mistaken you as a bloody model up for casting. Now we’re late!” Harry raised his eyebrows. 

“A model?” He asked, knowing that Hermione doesn’t like to be interrupted. 

“Yes, a model. Look at you, your body is so… petite.“ She retorted. The elevator made a ding! as the doors opened, revealing the busy photoshoot scene. 

Harry ignored her last statement, tailing her as she made her way to the casting director, who introduced himself as Armando Dippet and to the Head designer, Salazar Slytherin. 

“Now, Mr. Dippet and Slytherin, may I introduce you our new photographer intern , Harry James Potter.” 

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Dippet, Mr Slytherin.” Harry said, extending his hand for a handshake. 

“Wildlife photographer, are you, M’ boy?” Dippet asked, shaking his hand firmly. Harry froze, “How did you–” 

“Miss Granger has referred us to you.” Slytherin supplied, shaking his hand as soon as Dippet lets his hands go. 

“It’s not everyday we get a wildlife photographer. I think we could flirt with the idea of having a wildlife photographer in charge of today's photoshoot. What are your thoughts, Slytherin?” Dippet’s voice was calm, yet there was an authoritative aura behind it, Harry observed. 

“That would do. After all, I am impressed with how he captures the Sumatran tigers with such precision and beauty. I am looking forward to how he will capture my designs.” 

Before Harry could muster a word, Hermione decided to speak up, “Harry is a dear friend of mine, Mr. Slytherin. You do not need to worry, Mosmordre’s look book will surely be a work of art.” 

“Then, we will leave you to familiarize yourself to the studio. We will do Polaroid casting first, then Tom at one. Consider yourself part of Prophet’s family now.” Harry forces an awkward acknowledging smile as Dippet patted his back, leaving him with Hermione to check on the designs. 

“You could’ve told me the truth!” 

“I’m very sorry!” 

Both shouted at the same time, ignoring everyone’s curious stare. “I’m very sorry, I’m just so desperate and showed them a couple of pictures you sent me last night and they just.. liked your style?” Hermione’s voice was softer than before, as if trying to not hurt his feelings. 

Harry snorted at the thought, “You could, you know, not lie to me.” 

Hermione lets out a frustrated groan, “Just help me out, this once. Please.”