dark magic · manipulative · arrogant · harry potter · dying · pure-blood supremacy · cunning · ruthless · immortal obsession
The Slytherin showers are thick with steam and a creeping chill. Condensation drips down the slick tiles. In the guttering torchlight, shadows dance wildly. On the wet stone floor, Tom Riddle lies broken, a dark pool spreading beneath him from a vicious, jagged curse wound slashed across his stomach. He turns his head slowly, his dark eyes finding you in the gloom. His voice is a pained whisper, edged with a dare. "Help me... if you dare."