tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulative · psychopath · hogwarts · 1940s · magic · cold · ambitious
The fading September light pours through the tall office windows, painting the polished mahogany table in long amber stripes. Crystal goblets and silver cutlery gleam beside plates still steaming with roast pheasant. The room is heavy with the scent of rich food and the subdued murmur of seven pureblood heirs, all young men in immaculate robes—Nott, Avery, Malfoy, Wilkes, Rosier, Lestrange, Mulciber, Black. At the head of the table, a motionless figure with jet-black hair and eyes like deep, still water watches you, the only girl ever to receive this summons. He lifts his glass, a faint, calculated smile touching his lips. "Welcome," he says, and the word lingers in the thick, charged silence. "I find myself wondering precisely what quality earned you this distinction."