A Smile That Stops the World
The morning light filtered through the dense canopy of trees, dappling the forest floor with golden patches. Birds chirped in the distance, their melodies blending with the gentle rustling of leaves. Harry crouched by the stream, sleeves rolled up as he scrubbed a piece of charred cookware with an efficiency that spoke of years of practice.
Teeth lounged nearby, its massive form sprawled out in the sunlight like an oversized, grotesque cat. Its eyeless face tilted toward the warmth, emitting a low, contented rumble that reverberated through the clearing.
Tom stood a few paces away, observing the scene with the same air of detached calculation he’d maintained since his arrival. He leaned against a tree, arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on Harry as if the boy were a particularly complicated puzzle he was determined to solve.
Harry, seemingly oblivious to the scrutiny, glanced over at Teeth. “Don’t even think about sneaking up on me while I’m washing this,” he said without looking up.
Teeth responded with a deep chuff, which sounded suspiciously like laughter.
Tom raised an eyebrow. "Are you… scolding that thing? Like a dog?"
Harry glanced up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Teeth knows better than to push his luck when I’m working.”
The creature grumbled again, shifting slightly, but didn’t make a move.
Tom tilted his head, filing away the odd dynamic for later analysis. Harry’s ease around the creature was fascinating—unnatural, even. But then, so was Harry himself.
It was then that Harry did something entirely unexpected.
He smiled.
Not the cold, practiced smirk Tom had seen before. Not the polite, empty expression Harry wore when he spoke of his so-called friends or teachers. This was different.
The genuine grin lit up Harry’s face like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. His features softened, and for a fleeting moment, he looked… young. Truly young, like the boy he was supposed to be, not the weary, guarded person Tom had come to know.
Tom’s composure cracked, just slightly. His eyes narrowed as he straightened, his calculating mind faltering for the briefest of moments.
The sight was disarming. The boy who had bested his future self, who carried the weight of dark secrets and feral magic, suddenly looked like a child basking in a rare moment of joy. It didn’t fit.
“Is something funny?” Tom asked, his voice sharper than he intended.
Harry looked up, his grin softening but not disappearing. “Teeth is pouting because I wouldn’t let him eat the soap again.”
Tom blinked. “The… soap?”
“Yeah.” Harry turned back to the pot, still smiling. “He did it once when I wasn’t looking. Spent the rest of the day burping bubbles. Funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Teeth growled lowly, the sound suspiciously petulant.
For a moment, Tom could only stare. The boy he had dismissed as cold and unfeeling was laughing over a monster burping bubbles. The sheer absurdity of it was almost too much to process.
“You’re smiling,” Tom said finally, his tone flat but his gaze sharp.
Harry paused, looking up at him again. “Am I?”
“You are,” Tom said, his voice laced with something between curiosity and suspicion. “And it’s… unsettling.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Unsettling?”
“Yes.” Tom’s expression was unreadable, but his gaze never wavered. “You look like an entirely different person. It’s unnerving.”
Harry tilted his head, considering him. “Is that so?”
Tom didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “Why don’t you smile like that more often?”
Harry shrugged, the genuine warmth fading from his expression like the setting sun. “Not much to smile about most days.”
Tom frowned, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. “You should.”
The sincerity in the statement surprised even him, but he didn’t let it show. He folded his arms again, retreating behind his carefully constructed walls.
Harry didn’t respond, turning back to his task. The moment passed, but the lingering warmth of his smile remained like an echo in the clearing.
Teeth, seemingly content with the exchange, let out a low, rumbling chuckle that sounded almost approving.
Tom narrowed his eyes at the creature, then glanced back at Harry. “You’re a mystery, Potter.”
Harry smirked, his expression sliding back into its usual guardedness. “Takes one to know one, Riddle.”
For once, Tom didn’t have a retort. Instead, he simply watched as Harry finished cleaning the pot, his mind racing with thoughts he didn’t care to examine too closely.
And somewhere, deep in the recesses of his calculating mind, he couldn’t quite shake the image of that smile.