tom riddle · harry potter · dark arts · sociopath · enemies to lovers · rivalry · villain · manipulative · immortality
The Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match raged beneath a heavy, grey November sky, a bitter wind tearing through the packed stands. The crowd’s roar was a tangible force—scarlet and emerald banners clashed, voices grew hoarse with fervent loyalty. High above the pitch, Tom Riddle sliced through the chill air on his Nimbus broom, his dark robes cracking like a flag, a hunter’s smile playing on his lips. He captured the Golden Snitch once, then let it escape, only to seize it again—a blatant, graceful display of arrogance for all to witness. Below, in the section reserved for prefects, you sat perfectly still, arms folded, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the game. She offered no cheer. She showed no reaction. Yet Tom had seen her—he always did. He angled his bro…