In Which Tom Gets Creamed
It didn’t take a genius to realize that Harry had made a mistake.
And not a tiny mistake that could be shrugged off easily. No. This was a big fucking mistake, the kind that Hermione would yell his ear off about when he got home - whenever that would be.
Here was the plan: go back in time. Save Tom Riddle from becoming evil… exactly like so many fanfictions had foretold. But there was a slight hitch in that plan...that hitch being access to Gringotts. So here he was, stuck in 1945, completely broke.
He knew that in 1945, Tom Riddle would have graduated from Hogwarts and started working at Borgin and Burkes, so naturally Harry wanted to be close to Knockturn Alley to monitor his future nemesis...but it turned out that there weren’t many places hiring at the moment. Except, of course, for a ridiculous maid cafe down the street from Borgin and Burkes.
And Harry had thought the costume was the worst part. Oh, no. Far from it. The worst part was being totally unprepared for Tom Marvolo Motherfucking Riddle walking in unannounced at the cafe’s grand opening.
Tom Riddle...hot nineteen-year-old Tom Riddle with curly black hair, dark eyes, high cheekbones, and a nose (!). He was a little different than the ghostly vision Harry had seen out of the diary in the Chamber of Secrets. This Tom Riddle was a little more filled in (wink wonk), and a little more...humble looking, out of his prefect robes. Harry couldn’t imagine that he was making much at Borgin and Burkes. Even if he was kinda sporting the penniless-London-street-urchin look with the fingerless gloves, he was a hot penniless London street urchin. Leave it to the future Dark Lord to be tall, dark, and handsome...literally.
But still. Tom Riddle was the future Dark Lord. And Harry knew that Dark Lords were off-limits. There was totally a rule about that somewhere...or there should be.
And then Tom Riddle, in the flesh, had ordered tea at his cafe...like a normal person. It was the weirdest thing in the whole world, like seeing your teacher out grocery shopping...and Tom had teased him, had stared at him in that stupid maid uniform, and had grabbed his wrist...it was all too much. This was worse than hell - Harry was sure that hell wasn’t even as bad as serving tea to the younger hot version of his arch nemesis while wearing a goddamn frilly maid uniform.
Still. He wouldn’t let it get to him. Harry Potter was nothing but resilient! He would survive this, too. Voldemort had put him through so much - Harry would go through this too, and eventually, he’d fix Tom, and put him on the right path, and get back to his timeline all in one piece...hopefully.
But for now, customers were lining up and he had to serve coffee and tea in a maid costume.
One step at a time, Harry, he told himself. One step at a time.
____
Of course, Harry’s luck didn’t last too long. Because the very next day, Tom Riddle was back at the maid cafe, sliding his hands in the pockets of his trousers and grinning at Harry.
“I thought your costume couldn’t get any worse,” he began, “But evidently, I was wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, his artificial customer-service-smile dropping automatically when he saw who was talking to him.
Tom snorted, of all things, and his gaze lifted to the... things above Harry’s head. “What in Merlin’s name are those supposed to be?”
“What does it look like, Riddle?” Harry snapped as he cleared the nearby table. “They’re...cat ears.”
Harry’s outfit today was a so-called “improvement” on his original maid outfit...but today, there was a cat tail jutting out from his skirt, and he was wearing a cat ear headband, along with a collar with a bell at the end.
“Right.” Tom looked like he was trying very hard not to choke. “You’re supposed to be, what? A cat, and a maid?”
“It wasn’t my idea, okay?” Harry seethed, “It was Katrina’s...god, I don’t know where she gets all these costume ideas from.”
Speak of the devil - Katrina appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and petted Harry’s head. “Hello Harry! I trust you’re treating our customers well?” She eyed Tom. “Ooh, wasn’t he just here the other day? He’s obviously come again to see you, Harry!” She winked.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Harry grumbled. He caught Katrina’s nasty look that clearly screamed ‘be nice to our customers!’. “Oh...er...thanks,” he eventually said, glancing up at Tom briefly.
That was another thing, Tom noticed. For whatever reason, Harry seemed to hate him. And Tom hadn’t even done anything to him! Yet. Lol. And usually people were charmed by his good looks and flattery.
“So what would you like to order?” the boy sighed in a monotone voice.
“I’ll just get a cup of coffee,” Tom said, thinking about his pittance of a salary. Harry nodded and turned back.
“Wait a minute, Harry,” Katrina insisted, grabbing Harry’s wrist, “Aren’t you forgetting part of the customer service spiel?”
Harry blushed indignantly and reluctantly turned around to face Tom. “What would you like to order…. master?”
It was all Tom could do to not burst out laughing. Harry’s tone was completely different than what he was saying, and it looked like he didn’t want to do anything else but choke Tom to death.
“A...coffee,” Tom said, biting back a smile. Harry gave Tom and his boss a saccharine smile before all but running behind the counter to get Tom’s order.
When Harry came to Tom’s table carrying a tray with coffee, cream, and sugar on it, he surprised Tom by putting the tray down on the table and getting down on his knees.
“Aren’t you moving too fast?” Tom joked, thinking humor would clear the air of tension. Instead, Harry snarled at him like a rabid dog. So maybe too soon? Oops.
“You asswipe,” Harry hissed, “I’m supposed to kneel and serve you sugar and cream...and Katrina’s watching, so don’t test me.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Tom grinned down at Harry. “I don’t need cream or sugar… I take my coffee black.”
“Black, like your soul,” Harry huffed, standing up.
Tom’s eyes widened slightly. Did Harry know...about his horcruxes? Or his dark magic? Impossible...he’d covered up all the tracks…how could this stranger know anything about his soul?
“Kidding,” Harry tacked on then, “...Sort of.” Then, he did the unthinkable. He took five - five! - sugar cubes from the sugar cube bowl and threw them into Tom’s cup of coffee.
Tom made a noise of indignation; Harry grinned.
“You could use the sweetness,” Harry said. He leaned over and whispered in Tom’s ear. “It could do wonders to that attitude of yours.”
Attitude? Harry thought Tom had the attitude problem? Tom wasn’t having it. He needed revenge.
Reaching behind Harry, Tom wrapped his hand around the enchanted cat tail that Harry was wearing and gave it a firm tug. Harry gasped and the tail squirmed in Tom’s grasp, swishing a little.
“Are you sure,” Tom spoke slowly, not loosening his grip on Harry’s tail, “That I’m the one who needs to fix my attitude?”
Harry’s big green eyes widened behind his glasses, and Tom noted with amusement that even his enchanted cat ears twitched.
“Get your hands off my tail!" Harry exclaimed, causing a few customers to look around at the commotion.
Tom only snorted as he loosened his grip on the tail, stroking it a little as he let it go. Harry let out a mortified squeak and did the only thing he could think of.
He grabbed the pitcher of cream on the tray…
And emptied it over Tom’s head.