#tomarry au

[lian-nt]

Time travel! Tomarry AU

[vivantesopales]

so i made a tomarry rec list to convert my mutuals🍷

or: 10 fics i adore and the potion ingredients they taste of

What He Grows To Be | M, 260k | @k-s-morgan

A story of trust, remorse and the darker aspects of love. It is premised on one of the most beloved tomarry tropes – 'Harry time travels back to raise Tom' – and so Tom is given the chance to unlearn his frankly disastrous sense of entitlement and ultimately, to be reshaped by empathy and forgiveness. WHGTB is the perfect fic to get into tomarry if you're not quite sure what to expect from this ship, still wondering what their dynamic might look like, etc.

love is touching souls (surely you touched mine) | M, 34k | @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger

An accident takes Harry back to the winter of 1945, where he immediately captures the interest of a fresh-out-of-Hogwarts, not-yet-beyond-saving Tom. Their dynamic is deliciously intense from the start, with Harry being his usual sassy, dorky self that leaves Tom equally infuriated and intrigued. And Tom's arc, likewise, is beautifully crafted. Conversations about redemption, about remorse, are layered, thoughtful. Expect hurt/comfort, domestic softness, a devastating cliffhanger and an ending that will gently put you back together like a forehead kiss.

As Is The Father, So Is The Son | E, 4.5k | @this-is-your-heichou-speaking

An a/b/o royalty AU in which Tom (the Prince) is practically obsessed with Harry, who happens to be an omega boy from his father’s harem. This is undoubtedly one of the hottest smuts I’ve ever read, featuring lush prose, unapologetic, dub-con/non-con elements and an interesting take on “dark slutty Harry”. tl;dr: mind the tags; stay hydrated 💦🍆

breaking in through open doors | T, 1.4k | Brooding_Aunt

A unique, haunting read that is perfect for spooky seasons. Horror masterpiece. Goosebumps guaranteed. I won’t spoiler much but I urge you to give emo girl Harry a go (it makes a terrifying lot of sense in the context of the storytelling, I swear), and let her narrative haunt you.

Thirst | E, 27k | @obsidianpen

(Sexy) mind games with Horcrux!Tom …. Will he be motivated enough to let Harry out of the Lestrange Vault before Voldemort arrives? Another dark, chilling fic in which both Harry and Tom have their own weaknesses that the other seeks to explore, and hopefully to take advantage of, as they grapple for survival.

Memento Mori | E, 49k | @purplewitch156

Every time Harry dies, instead of boarding the train that will take him to the Afterlife, to his family, he chooses to return to the living world with Tom, who is unable go on. Four Lives, two idiots, one love story. There’s humour, there’s action, heartwarming moments and heartbreaking ones … basically, be prepared for all the feels that will take forever to recover from.

Wake From a Dream | T, 2.6k | @duplicitywrites

Cats and domestic tomarry (I am so ridiculously weak for this). Duplicity’s writing is gorgeous in that, within a smallish word count, we are given a glimpse of something profound, something vulnerable, subtly tucked into the lovely little interactions and the intimacy Harry and Tom share.

Hmm | G, 6.4k | Wolven_Spirits

‘Harry is a hummingbird animagus. Tom opens a flower shop just to attract his attention.’ That’s the fic summary – need I say more🥺?? There’s something so gentle and evocative (but also undeniably Slytherin) about Tom’s decision to devote himself to his flowers, to creating a safe space for Harry. Florist!Tom supremacy, is what I’m saying.

Man Down | T, 5k | @classlesstulip

It’s tagged as Mafia AU, but in all honesty this fic is, I must say, ‘Ghibli in gangster’s suit’ (affectionate). It’s hilarious (I genuinely laughed out loud quite a few times throughout the story), super adorable, and everything that makes a lovely pick-me-up fic.

What Happens In Vegas | E, 14k | @dividawrites

Sexy, decadent and intrinsically tomarry, this fic became an instant fave a few paragraphs in. Tom is super chaotic and his characterisation is perhaps one of the best I’ve ever read. Featuring a delicious age difference, thirsty brat Harry, DADA Professor Riddle (yes please) and size kink hello🥵 – all that executed through Divida’s sharp, witty writer’s voice! Really, Vegas is the ultimate dream.

[jazz-keeps-the-sadzz-away]

tomarry doodles 😌❤️ i havent really been in interested in any tomarry media, but hopefully that will change after i go on a fic splurge

[shin-yohan]

He's looking again .

The boy was staring again , I don't know why .

should I be concerned ? or is it just a prank ?

Shit !! He's walking towards me , gotta go the other way , walk fast harry .

" Excuse me !! "

Harry stopped abruptly and turned slowly to face the boy , the first thing that he noticed was how tall the boy was , he was looming over harry like some kind off a giant and the second thing he noticed was that the tall boy was holding his Keychain that he had lost some days ago in this park .

The realization slowly dawned upon him as he understood that the tall boy was just trying to help him return his Keychain.

" Thank you so much mate !! "

Harry said to the boy as he tried to take his Keychain back from the hands off the tall boy , the key word 'tried' but failed as the hand withdrew back to avoid his hand .

The tall boy leaned down towards harry and spoke right beside his ears blowing hot air off puffs .

"what do I get from you in return if I gave your Keychain back ? "

Harry's face turned blank as well as his mind only the hot air in his ears and the silky velvety smooth voice registered on his mind .

He felt his face turning bright red , the tall boy also noticed the redness off his face and commented .

"you look like sin when you turn red darling."

[themostobsessed]

The little fool jumped in front of a spell aimed at Tom. The memory made Tom’s body tremble.

He bent over the bed, his shadow covering the peacefully slumbering wizard. His hand gently brushed the unruly hair strands away from the new scar on the young man’s forehead. Most of the wounds left after the attack were completely healed, but for some reason this particular one had Harry’s magic interfering, leaving a jagged lightning bolt-shaped scratch behind.

Tom carefully traced the scar with his thumb.

Nobody has protected him before. It was a completely novel experience.

He hated this.

"Can't stop confessing"

Found a little prompt I liked and the story is pretty much done, added a little sketch to it

[bythepen98]

Tomarry 👉👈😌

I could not let go of my pen until I finished this.

Not kidding. Pulled an all nighter bc inspiration stuck on me like a leech and I didn't want it to run out while I was procrastinating. Had to keep that momentum going.

It usually takes me ages to finish bc I feel compelled to render my art but I stuck with a normal sketch for this one.

Also had help from a 3D pose app bc I realized yet again how hopeless I am without reference. My wrist ached when I finished fr. I am genuinely proud of this one though and can't stop looking at it 🙈 The look Harry has when staring at Tom and just the overall picture of Tom leaning over Harry makes me want to giggle into my pillow.

[coldemergency]

Voldemort: You give the absolutely worst advice

Harry: It didn't work?

Voldemort: No Harry, showing up at Hogwarts with a cake that says "I'm sorry for killing all those people" did not help

Harry: Weird. Dumbledore loves cake...

[awyeahitssam]

Time travel AU; Tomarry

Harry was seven the first time he appeared.

Tom arrived to him small and trembling, with bare blue fingers and toes. His teeth chattered noisily while hands worked insistently up and down his arms to generate some illusion of heat. It was a rather odd sight, considering it was thirty seven degrees outside and Harry was sweating a bit, himself. Not to mention the boy had just materialized in his supposedly secure hiding spot, without so much as a sound of warning or shimmer about the air. 

Or, you know, walking or running, because that’s how any other child got around.

Harry shook away the thought, pushing himself off the tree stump and letting shredded leaves fall from his grasp. 

The child was looking up, now, glancing around like a frightened rabbit, silver-grey eyes wide and wild. He couldn’t have been more than four years old, which wasn’t that much younger than Harry, but he wasn’t used to being around toddlers. In fact he had never been around anyone smaller than him for more than a few minutes - their parents always rushed them away, thanks to his reputation as the Dursleys' troubled nephew.  

Harry wouldn't let the boy freeze because his parents would be mad they'd spoken. Not that they would be angry at the boy, mind: it was Harry that always got into trouble for such things. He would be fine.

(And no, Harry wasn’t at all resentful. Really.)

Dilemma solved, Harry stepped forward resolutely and wrapped his arms around the trembling child. The boy stood stiff and unresponsive, tremors still wracking his form. Harry was a whole head taller than him; from this close he could see what appeared to be snow melting atop night-dark curls.

Harry blinked in surprise. He had thought the boy had been locked in a freezer, with how cold he was, but snow in July? 

Where was it cold this time of year? 

Sweden? 

Antarctica? 

Iceland? 

Did the boy even speak English? 

Harry knew that if you wished hard enough you could escape a place: after all, he had ended up across the schoolyard four days ago, on the school roof of all places! But maybe this boy had gone further? 

“All right?" Harry asked, going to pull away, but the boy suddenly began clinging to him, head pressing forward into his chest.

What did parents call their kids to comfort them? Aunt Petunia always said “Duddums,” or “Dudders,” but those were just nicknames. Maybe… 

“Uh, it’s okay, d-darling?”

The boy stilled again, sniffling once and looking up with narrowed eyes, as if he thought Harry was making fun of him. Maybe only adults called people that? Oh God, Harry had no idea what he was doing. This was his first hug, after all… 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he tried again. “We’ll get you home, so you’ll be all right. With your, uh, parents and stuff. Don’t cry, please.”

Well, that was more begging than reassuring, probably, but Harry had no clue what he was doing here. He’d never had to comfort anyone a day in his life!

“I wasn’t crying!” The boy denied, shoving himself away from Harry fiercely even though he was still quivering and unnaturally pale. “And I don’t have any parents.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry raised his hands defensively, ready to spring back if the boy lashed out again. When people got angry with him it rarely went well. “Um, I don’t either. Have parents, that is. And I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 

Harry wasn’t going to apologize for it. He had to do enough of that at the Dursley’s, and he had only been trying to help, besides. Still, he knew how frustrating it was when parents got brought up. The reminder that he was an orphan, trapped with the Dursley’s for a very long time to come, was far from comforting. 

“Just another orphan, then,” the boy said dismissively. Harry didn’t bother being offended, as it was the truth, though that tone was a bit... 

“I suppose,” Harry said. “You’re still cold, aren’t you? Let’s move out of the shade.” 

The boy squinted at him suspiciously, but nonetheless followed when Harry led the way to a nearby rock and gently pressed him to sit on it. He kneeled on the dead, brown grass and eyed blue fingers and bare toes worriedly.

“That’s not good,” he whispered. Harry reached out to the other boy slowly, as though he were a wild animal, and the child jerked away.

“What are you doing?”

“They’re blue,” Harry frowned. “Just - let me -” 

Harry took the boy's hands in his own and brought them to his mouth, breathing hot air onto them. The boy made a mildly disgusted sound and made to move back, but Harry held tight, rubbing to create heat through friction. 

He felt gross and sweaty, and frankly the cool of the boy’s hands was a relief on such a day, but mostly he was worried. He knew, vaguely, of hypothermia, and he didn't want the boy’s fingers to fall off.  

The boy glared at Harry, but didn't try to pull away again, though he watched his every movement rather suspiciously. That wasn't anything new to Harry, of course. Everybody found him suspicious. 

“Where am I?” The child demanded, after a long period of silence in which they were essentially holding hands. 

“We’re at a park in Little Whinging, Surrey.” 

“Surrey? I was just in London…”

Harry frowned back. “Are you sure? It's not snowing in London.”

“It was five minutes ago,” the boy said firmly, crossing his arms. 

“In July?” Harry murmured, incredulous. 

“I'm not lying,” the boy said coolly, though the effect of his glare was somewhat ruined by the shivers still wracking his body. “And it's February, besides.”

“I didn't say you were lying,” Harry huffed. “Just that you’re wrong. It's July 30th.”

The boy frowned, glancing from the sun high in the sky to the brown grass. He seemed at a loss, eyes flitting around as if trying to find something to refute Harry’s claim.

Harry watched him, considering. 

“My name is Harry,” he said. “What’s yours?”

The boy blinked at him. “Tom,” he said. “Tom Riddle.”

...

Harry was in the astronomy tower, legs dangling over the edge, eyes looking towards the ground. His companion arrived as suddenly as always, the only announcement of his presence the prickling at Harry’s neck.

“...Harry?” 

He turned with a tired smile, faltering only slightly when he noted what Tom was wearing. A slightly oversized version of the Hogwarts uniform hung over his small frame, a silver and green tie smoothed on his neck. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Harry asked, falling to his knees beside the bright-eyed boy. Tom wasn’t crying, but his eyes were burning with something like anger and loneliness and despair. It took Harry a moment, but when he caught sight of the bruise marring Tom’s face he felt his breath catch in his chest.

“You—who—how dare—!” Harry couldn’t seem to bring himself to coherence, so instead he shut his mouth and carefully tilted Tom’s chin to get a better look at the mark. It was large, spanning from his right cheekbone to eyebrow: a mottled, puce discoloration that never should have touched on Tom’s strong features. 

Tom allowed Harry to maneuver him without complaint, eyes wide and hungry as they took him in.

“Even at Hogwarts,” the younger boy murmured, smaller hand reaching out, brushing against Harry’s cheek. 

Harry couldn’t help the soft look that overcame him, despite the anger boiling, wrathful, in his gut at the sight of Tom’s injury. “I’m glad,” he said softly. “I’d rather not go ten months without seeing you, Tom.” 

Though truly it hadn’t been so long for Harry. After all, hadn’t he seen Lord Voldemort rise only a few months ago?

But no. This was Tom, his first friend, the first person he’d thought to protect, not a single trace of serpent in his visage.

This was Tom, with one of his eyes half swollen shut.

Harry didn’t know any healing charms, but he had taken to carrying around the salve Hermione made for his hand. He unscrewed the lid and gathered more than was probably necessary, the goop thick on his fingers. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” 

Tom tilted his head, not wary but measuring, and Harry held his gaze until the boy’s shoulders loosened and he nodded.

Once upon a time, Lord Voldemort had been capable of trust. Theoretically it was a hard thing to grasp, but in practice it just made something in Harry’s chest melt.

Harry massaged the salve in gently, careful not to get too close to Tom’s eye. He was nearly done by the time Tom gasped, jerking away.

It must have started tingling.

“That’s…” 

“Strange?” Harry smiled at him. “Yeah. Hold still, you’ll need a bit more to help with the swelling.” 

“Why do you have this?” Tom asked, even as he obediently shut his eyes and swayed forward. “Have you been getting into fights, Harry?” 

How strange, the way Tom said his name now, compared to the way he would one day, in a dark, dreary graveyard.

Harry laughed off the comparison, laughed so he didn’t retreat back to misery, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead. To the place that he would one day mark Harry.

“Always,” he smirked, pulling back to catch sight of Tom’s wide-eyed look. He screwed the lid back on the salve, wiping his fingers on his robe and slipping it back into his pocket. “Now, are you just going to sit there gaping all night, or would you like to learn how to defend yourself with magic?” 

Tom opened his mouth, probably in protest against that gaping remark, but closed it before saying anything and nodding his assent.

Harry drew his wand, a wand Tom had only seen a handful of times, and he couldn’t help the way his muscles tensed. Harry didn’t mention it.

“Protego,” he enunciated, making the motion with his wand a bit slower than he might otherwise.

“That’s a fifth year spell,” Tom pointed out.

“One that you’ll master,” Harry agreed cheerily. “Unless you want to be tickled to death.” 

It would have been more logical to use some sort of pain as motivation - such as a stinging hex - but Harry, Tom knew, did not want to hurt him. Still, he could deal with pain. Given his age, Harry was expected to be stronger than him, to be able to harm him. And to Tom, it would be far more humiliating to be reduced to helpless giggles.

Harry knew him too well, to play on his pride like this.

Tom found he didn’t mind

It took time, but Tom did manage to conjure the shield charm. 

Only when Harry flicked his wand the spell broke through, and Tom fell to the ground in peels of laughter. Harry held the enchantment for a long moment, watching grey eyes come alive with mirth, small body wriggling, before he waved his wand in a silent counter.

“Don’t rely on your shield alone,” Harry instructed. “You may be strong, but you’re still a first year, which means somebody else is stronger.” 

As if he needed the reminder, Tom mused bitterly, hand jerking a bit as he fought the urge to prod at his tingling bruise. Harry didn’t mention his short, derisive laugh. 

“What did you do when somebody tried to hit you at the orphanage? Dodged. It doesn’t matter that you have a wand, and spells; those aren’t the only tools available to you. You have a body - use it!”

In a way Tom appreciated the way Harry never sugarcoated anything. On the other hand, mere mention of the orphanage infuriated him. If not for the fact that Harry had been bullied himself, Tom might have held a grudge. As it was he knew Harry understood him, and what he went through. Knew that he was only mentioning that rotten place to draw a comparison and not degrade him. 

He didn’t get impatient when Tom’s second attempt failed, or his third and fourth, nor did he relent in his assault. He was strangely inspirational, Tom thought. He was encouraging, but had high expectations, and he seemed used to teaching. His patience went far further than Tom’s own extended, and he had no trouble explaining things a different way when his words didn’t click for Tom. 

But then, Tom almost instinctively knew what Harry meant. They were connected, in some odd, impossible way. 

Tom’s cheeks had burned in embarrassment when he discovered that there was no such thing as soulmates, even in the magical world. He had been so sure.

…

“You’ve gone pale.”

Tom looked down to his fading fingers with a scowl. 

“I want to spend more than a measly two hours with you,” he said, gripping the front of Harry’s robes as though it would prevent their time from coming to an end. 

“I know, darling,” Harry murmured, running a hand through his night-dark curls. “Just remember that I'm very proud of you, all right? I care for you, and that accounts for the decades we have to spend apart.”

“Harry, have I found you yet?” Tom whispers. The question hangs in the darkness, but before Harry can formulate a response Tom vanishes from his arms. 

…

“Hello darling,” Harry smiles, rather taken with the blush that lights Tom’s nose and the tips of his ears. “When are we?”

“31st of December, 1940.”

“Happy birthday, then. How does it feel to be fourteen?”

“No different than thirteen, I’d imagine,” Tom replies. 

“No?” Harry’s eyes glint wickedly. “Let’s see if we can’t brighten your day. Have you ever been ice skating, Tom?”

Tom blinked at him, eyebrows pulling together. “No,” he responds. “Have you?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Something in Tom thrills at the reckless grin Harry levels him with. “We can try together, yeah? The Black Lake should be frozen over, and I know a few spells if not. The grounds should be abandoned at this time, especially considering it’s break.”

Tom stares incredulously for a moment longer, before shaking his head. “It’s past curfew, Harry. Even if it’s a holiday, I can’t be caught outside and still be chosen as a prefect next year.”

“Let’s not get caught, then,” Harry says softly, eyes sparking. 

Tom takes him in for a moment, and lets out a long sigh - mostly for show, mind you. Being cooped up in the Common Room, staring out at the Black Lake was hardly what Tom wished to be doing, regardless of the days. “Only you, Harry Potter, could talk me into doing such a thing. You’d better be practised with cushioning charms.”

A warm hand comes to grip Tom’s, pulling him towards the door. “We won’t need them,” Harry says, sounding rather assured. “You’re ridiculously graceful, so I expect you to catch me if I start to fall.” 

Harry, it turns out, is far better at keeping his balance on the slick surface. But the older boy takes both of his hands, slowly skidding backwards, balancing him so he won’t fall. And Tom is sure that when he does, he takes Harry with him.

…

Tom is standing on the balcony. Harry looks him over, absently checking for injuries. 

“You look posh,” he says, surprised. The last time he had seen Tom, he was still in second hand robes, though judging by his appearance it had been nearly a year - or an abrupt growth spurt. 

“Harry,” Tom breathes out, and all of the irritation in his posture and face smooth out as he turns and catches sight of him. Something like excitement brightens the air around him, and he reaches out, catching Harry’s sleeve and drawing him close. “You’re really here.”

“I am,” Harry smiles. “Have I kept you waiting?”

“Rather,” Tom sniffs. “It’s been nearly a year. You’ve chosen a rather poor venu, though; the Malfoy’s annual Yule Ball.”

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “I suppose you’ll need to get inside and schmooze with the purebloods.” 

“That is the point in me attending,” Tom agreed lightly. “But the ball is already halfway over, and I’ve met plenty of important people already. You could join me for a dance…” 

“Inside?” Harry asked, surprised. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom… if anybody but you sees me, I’m afraid of what’ll happen.”

“The music’s loud enough,” Tom offers. There’s something almost hesitant in his eyes, Harry notes. A very rare thing, for Tom is most always sure of himself. “We can dance here.” 

Harry smiles, drawing Tom’s hand into his own. “All right, but don’t be mad if I step on your toes. You’ve asked for it.”

Tom’s eyes glint. A smirk curls his lips. “Oh my,” he says, stepping close as one hand finds Harry’s waist and the other intertwines their fingers. “Have we found something I’m better at?” 

Harry snorted. “You’re better at loads,” he said, stumbling a step back when Tom begins their dance. “I’ve got nearly three years on you at the moment, and I’m positive your spell knowledge well exceeds mine.”

Tom quirks a brow. “Perhaps if you studied more?”

Harry smiled. “I started studying seriously in my Fourth year. You, however, have been at it from your First.”

“Shall we duel?”

“I’d rather we never cross wands,” Harry says lightly, but his eyes have gone dark. He grips Tom a bit tighter, posture straightening. Tom’s nearly a head shorter, like this. “This is hard to do backwards.”

“Then lead.”

Tom’s words had been half-teasing, but when Harry takes control of the dance things smooth out rather quickly. He’s clearly at least practiced in this part, and twirls Tom around the balcony without much trouble.

“There you are,” Tom says into his neck, “No more stepping on me.” 

Harry huffs a laugh, one hand rising from Tom’s waist to brush through his hair. The motion is soothing, half-remembered from the last time Tom had a fever. He leans deeper into Harry. He would join them together if he could; make them intrinsic, never able to be torn apart, not even by time. 

“I miss you,” Tom admits, like it’s a dark secret. “When you’re gone, I miss you, Harry. I’ve never missed anybody else.” 

Harry’s throat tightens. His hand continues its careful strokes, and they’ve stilled in their dancing. They sway in place.

“I wish we could be like this forever,” Harry says in turn, secret traded for secret. 

Tom makes a noise in his throat, something almost needy, and clings harder, nails digging into Harry’s robe. “Don’t leave,” he demands. “Stop leaving me.” 

Harry sighs. “I can’t,” he says. “You know I can’t, Tom.”

Tom pulls back, meeting his eyes. His face is flushed from the cold, eyes gleaming with a fierce longing. Something in Harry aches in answer.

“Let’s sit,” Harry says softly. “The sky is beautiful here.”

Tom nods, but hardly lets them pull apart. They sit, limbs tangling, but instead of staring at the stars Tom stares at Harry. Harry pretends not to notice.

An hour later, only the lingering warmth of Tom’s palm proves he was ever there at all.

…

The next time Tom appears it’s in Harry’s time. The situation is less than ideal; it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, and there's an attack.

But Tom does not know the context. All he knows when he appears is that Harry is flushed, breathing hard, back pressed against a building. And Tom does not freeze like Harry sometimes does at the abrupt displacement, but strides towards Harry with a familiar determination.

It’s the look Lord Voldemort gets when he’s decided to kill Harry.

But instead, Tom presses him tighter against the building. Searches his face. And then he pushes their mouths together, lips moving insistently against Harry’s own, almost desperate to provoke a reaction. 

Apparently deciding to kiss and kill Harry inspires the same look.

There’s a moment when Harry wants, but then he pulls away, the rejection gentled by the way he cradles Tom’s cheek. 

“Tom, I -”

Harry's eyes flick up from Tom’s, catching a movement,  and his hands drop as though burned. He’s quick to grab Tom by the hips and switch their positions, putting his body between Tom and Voldemort as he took in the tall, serpentine Lord. 

Voldemort’s smile was a cruel, mirthless thing. “Playing house with one of my horcruxes, Harry? How… unexpected.”

Harry swallowed. So Voldemort didn’t know, then -  he didn’t remember, though Harry had figured as much. 

“Tom, stay behind me and avoid his eyes.” 

“Harry, who—”

“Please, Tom!”

Tom stepped back, but he didn’t move quickly enough to avoid a bolt of purple light.

‘Bugger,’ Harry thought, body jerking in front of Tom instinctively, taking the hit. 

The spell has no evident effect beyond freezing him in place, and a strongly thought Finite Incantatum saw him free. Still, Harry did not shift; he would use any advantage he could get, and Voldemort thinking him helpless was certainly an advantage.

“What shall I do with you now, Harry?” Voldemort hissed, a demented smile pulling his lips up. 

“Avada Ked—“

“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried. Tom’s wand flew from his hand, smacking Harry’s palm. Well, so much for that plan. “Expelliarmus!”

“Crucio.”

The spells slammed together and the magic splintered, the wand's magic dying as it recognized it was being turned against itself. 

Voldemort’s eyes burned. “How do you have that wand?”

Harry watched him carefully, backing up until his hip pressed against Tom. He pressed the yew wand into warm hands, not daring to take his eyes off Voldemort to see his expression. 

Tom inhaled sharply, and he was too clever to not connect the dots. When he spoke his voice was torn between horror and fury. “There’s no way.”

“You need to go,” Harry hissed back. “Now.” 

“We haven’t exactly figured out how to control it—”

“Tom,” Harry snapped. The other teen quieted, and Harry heard fabric shift. “Repeat after me: lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

“Harry—”

“Do you want to die?” 

There was a long pause. A hand pressed over Harry’s spine, almost too hard to be a comfort. 

“Lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

The air shifted, and the warm pressure of spindly fingers against Harry’s back melted away. 

Harry and Voldemort stared each other down from across a field.

“It seems,” Voldemort hissed, “we have much to discuss, Harry.”

[chiocchi]

Mermaid AU where they are each other's only friend, but Harry is very curious about life on the surface and Tom is deeply afraid that someday Harry is going to leave him.

[badumhax]

I solemnly swear that I have not forgotten this series. See more in my profile 🫥

[lian-nt]

Painting with references (I can’t do Riddle..)

Time Travel be like:

H: - Can u help me with potions PLEASE..

T: - Fix your face... *what have I done to you??*

[jazz-keeps-the-sadzz-away]

im a bit busy, so enjoy a snippet of an au

Au: (Worried Neighbor Tom Au) Harry is addicted to drugs (16), and his neighbor, Tom (28), is so worried about the little boy that's constantly sitting outside on the porch. - "You look like you're dying."

Oh, those hands were so soft. Harry wanted to just -

He grasped Tom's hands which were checking his gaunt face, nuzzling his sensitive lips to the skin. It felt so nice.

Tom stared at Harry, blue iced with distress, and the man looked behind him on the porch aimlessly.

"Are your parents home?"

"No," Harry easily replied, tone sort of jovial and thick, like he was much too aware to slur but his tongue was heavy. This made Tom seem to panic. "Well, sir, why are you here - and touching me?"

"You find a drooling child on the porch at three in the morning, anyone is bound to ask if you're okay - are you high?"

"No," Harry happily said, and Tom immediately patted his cheek a bit.

"Okay, up, let's go, we're going to my house until I can get in contact with your relatives," he ordered, and when Harry lamely stared the man sighed and he grasped at the boy, helping him into a stand.

His hands were quite thin but large, and most importantly a comforting warmth, so Harry didn't mind so much as he was brought across the street and into a tiny one story house.

Harry wiped his mouth of wetness as he entered the very cold house, shivering and letting himself be seated at the dining table.

He patted his thighs with his fingers whilst inspecting the living room and kitchen that he could see from the dining area, noticing Tom slip the phone out of its receiver on the island and looking down to it.

"Who can I call?"

Harry scratched his face, swaying a bit. "Uhhhh…Remus Lupin, number is…"

Tom's fingers hovered over the buttons, eyes raising up from an angle when Harry went silent.

Harry was laying his head on the table, waves of panic and overwhelming shame coming to him now, and he made a helpless noise.

"Can you just…not call anyone?"

Tom's lips pressed thin.

"I know you're only sixteen, Harry. Can you please just tell me a number so I can get you to a safe guardian? I don't -" he exhaled and dropped the phone, making Harry flinch and raise his head up from the wood, "Harry, I'm going to have to call the police if you don't."

Harry felt a cold wave rush down his spine and freeze his thighs, making them tense.

"Oh - but - but I-"

Tom moved away from the sink and traveled to Harry, crouching down low so he was on the balls of his feet and his arm was between his legs while a hand gripped the table.

Harry shifted a bit, nervously aware of the attention and eye contact that came with the added height of his position.

"Buddy, you need to be truthful with me, because honestly right now this looks like an abused kid not wanting to go home while on drugs," Tom's voice was soft and calm, but it was sending Harry over the edge.

Harry burst into tears and he made a physically pained noise, gripping Tom's shoulders. "Please please please don't call anyone, please, please I'll do anything please-" He let out a winded and wet sob and that seemed to end the man, Tom's face turning into a grimace of discomfort as he stood and smoothed his hand over Harry's head.

"Shh, Shh, calm down, I haven't called anyone," he whispered, guiding Harry to sit up right, "Let's breathe - buddy can you breathe with me? Just slow, steady….okay…there we go…"

Tom's hands were in his hair and on his chest and Harry gripped the one pressing on his heart, sobbing and gasping out, struggling to relax.

"You're okay, you're okay," Tom whispered. Harry stared up at the man, the yellow light above the table making a halo out of this thirty-something stranger. "You won't call..?" "..." "No." There was heavy resignation in the man's tone. Harry felt too much joy to worry about why this man knew his name.

[shin-yohan]

Guys listen to me I just saw the movie "THE TUTOR" and let me tell you !! It kept reminding of TOMARRY .

Imagine this AU no magic :

Harry being in his mid 20's and he tutors the elite children who are rich and powerful and he has his whole career around it and he's married !! .

To ginny ofcourse and they are fucking expecting their first child , Harry is over the moon because he always wanted his own little family and they are peacefully living in their own little bubble.

Here comes our favorite Tom marvolo riddle.

He's a little odd the outsiders will say but they'll never know the full extent off his insanity or psychopathic only his family the riddles will know they are afraid off him .

Tom Senior and his wife are also expecting their second child and they hire harry to tutor tom junior because they have heard a lot about harry being the perfect tutor who can handle any teenager and get a emotional connection with them .

Harry goes to tutor tom the first day he doesn't know what to expect he's going in blind and just hopes for the best , when harry first lands his eyes on tom the first thought that comes is "Beautiful" . He gets acquainted with him and the first day goes smoothly without a hitch.

But as he gets to know and spend his time with tom he begins to notice the obsessive look and the possessiveness tom has towards him , tom knows everything about him which kinda freaks him out but he brushes it off when tom explains to him his trauma and they have a little heart to heart .

But one day harry accidentally sees Tom's laptop which are filled with pictures off him and his wife ginny like someone has been stalking him , he's scared and shocked but he decides to confront tom the next day when they have their tutor session , tom is obviously so calm and relaxed as it is not a big deal , as if harry belong to him from the start.

Harry is obviously disgruntled and decides to leave his job here no matter how much riddles pay him and that's when ladies and gentlemen the chaos begins. Tom will not let go off harry . Harry belongs to him and no one else , he starts manipulating and threatening harry so he would return to him but harry doesn't go down easily they have the whole cat and mouse game going on but tom will destroy Harry's life so that he could only depend on him .

[hazelnut1]

Harry hurts his knee and Tom comes to the rescue 💪

[bythepen98]

Doodles || Tomarry || Childhood friends/Growing Up Together au

(Ignore the not-so-time-period-accurate outfits)

Think of this as a timetravel au where Harry accidentally gets sent back to the past in Wool's orphanage at a young enough age where he barely notices the changes caused by the time displacement and thus grows up nonethewiser to his destiny as the Chosen One. Even when, objectively, his life at the orphanage could be considered worse considering the growing lack of food, his environment's state of decay and overall unrest happening outside the orphanage's walls, something about his situation felt right(?).

He'd always felt disconnected and out of place based on the few memories he still had from living with the Dursleys but now, it felt like he was home in a way. Like something finally clicked in his brain, his soul.

His instant connection to Tom helped cement that fact. It wasn't easy at first because the pull they felt when they first met was so strong that it scared Harry shtless and Tom, already half-full of resentment by this point, was horrified feeling anything to anyone that wasn't disgust. In the end, it didn't take long for them to meet halfway since they were still children and curiosity at the connection lured them in like candy; Harry wanted a special friend of his own and Tom convinced himself that Harry was worth his time because there was no way anyone ordinary could elicit such a soul deep response from him.

Tom has a mean streak and is more bloodthirsty than his charming facade would show but is honest about it with Harry. Although he doesn't have much to his name, Tom is serious about his self-imposed role as Harry's provider, giving him gifts (from the money he steals) during his birthdays and keeping him as warm and well fed as possible (by bullying the other kids into surrendering their share).

Sometimes, Tom....worries.....that his methods would eventually drive Harry - who has such an inherent goodness in him, so often kind to people who don't deserve it - away but what he fails to understand is that Harry's love and loyalty to the first friend he's ever made trumps any kindness he has for others. He'll never like needless violence and won't react if he was being targeted but all bets are off if he even a catches a whiff of plots against Tom. If he has to help hide a body or two in the future so that they won't be separated by something as inconvenient as jail or the law, then that's nobody's business but his own.

P.S. This Harry will probably go to Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin like in other fics. It just feels right. Probably should've drawn him wearing a yellow tie but only just got the idea as I'm typing this. Tom would rather eat slugs than go to the Hufflepuff common room but he's more than willing to entertain Harry at the Slytherin common room at every available chance. They have their own seat there and everything.

P.P.S. They also co adopt a tiny(??) baby snake when they realize they can both speak parseltongue and bring him along to hogwarts. Imagine being parents at the big old age of 10 to a possibly magical snake that may or may not grow past nagini-level size.

P.P.P.S. Future power couple in the making. Didn't think that far ahead whether I wanted Tom to go the political route or Dark Lord Voldemort style minus the horcruxes. Don't ask for me the details, just know that with Harry's help, Tom finds a way to prolong their lives without the consequences that come with using horcruxes. They may or may not discover that Harry is in fact a horcrux of Tom already but will never get the answer as to how it happened. Harry worries but Tom just chocks it up as the universe's way of paying him back for his shtty pre-Harry childhood. Ironically the type to believe in soulmates and destiny while Harry is a bit more skeptical on that front.

Alternatively, they could also decide not to do anything too significant -politically- at all and instead retire to the country side while doing research on as many branches of magic as they can. A bit laughable because of Tom's world altering ambitions and Harry's indulgent, enabling behavior but at the same time, anything's possible.

[coldemergency]

Harry: A world without Lord Voldemort is quite dull

Voldemort: Sounds like you have experience

Harry: Yeah, in my third life I sped-ran the whole thing and took you out before my thirteenth birthday. You should have seen Dumbledore’s face, absolutely priceless