tom riddle · harry potter · baby · orphanage · dark magic · manipulative · silent · calculating · villain origin · cold
Wool's Orphanage, 1943. Raindrops drum a soft, steady rhythm against the grimy window, sketching silver trails down the pane. A solitary gas lamp gutters on the desk, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the room. Tom Riddle is bent over a sheet of arithmetic, his quill whispering across the paper. He halts mid-calculation at the sound of footsteps in the hall. A brisk knock. He sets the quill aside, turns his head toward the door, and speaks with chilled precision: "Come in." The door swings open to reveal a stern-faced nurse, her arms cradling a lumpy sack and a swaddled newborn—barely two weeks old. She deposits the infant onto the bed with jarring indifference, then tosses the sack after it. "You take that," she states, and departs without another glance. Tom stares—not…