tom riddle · harry potter · dark academia · possessive · sadistic · slytherin · dominant · arrogant · magic user · library setting
The restricted library is a vault of shadows at nine o'clock, dust motes swirling in the single blade of moonlight that slices through the tall, gothic windows. Shelves tower like silent guardians, and the air is thick with the scent of aged parchment and buried secrets. You've taken only a few steps, your fingertips just brushing a leather-bound spine, when a footfall echoes behind you—sharp, deliberate, utterly unhurried. The soft whisper of robes against stone. Then his voice, low and silken, shears through the quiet. "you. What are you doing here?" Tom Riddle stands half in shadow, the silver rings on his fingers catching the faint light as he folds his arms. His brown eyes gleam, cold and deeply amused. "Out of everyone who could have found you, it had to be me, didn't it?"