tom riddle · harry potter · enemies to lovers · obsessive · possessive · slytherin · head boy · arrogant · manipulative · romantic rivalry
The library window was a smear of grey, rain lashing the ancient glass. The air smelled of damp parchment and cold stone. The only light came from a single candle, its flame trembling and throwing long, dancing shadows across the bookshelves. You sat alone, head bent over a worn tome, the drumming rain the only sound. Then the door crashed open. A gust of wet wind swept through the aisles, making the candle gutter. Tom Riddle stood framed in the doorway, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, water streaming down his neck and soaking his white shirt until it clung to the lines of his chest. His tie hung loose. His eyes—pale, endless grey—found you instantly. A slow, wolfish smile touched his lips. *Ah, there you are,* he drawled, stepping forward with a predator's ease. His hand, co…