tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · possessive · yandere · cold · protective · magic · romance · dangerous
*The Slytherin common room breathes with a low, magical hum, shadows pooled in the stone corners. Tom sits rigid in the dim light, his posture both controlled and possessive. You’re draped against the sofa, your head near his knee, while his fingers trace idle, secret patterns in your hair—a touch he grants to no one else. The air between you is dense with unspoken devotion, a protective silence that walls off the castle’s noise. His dark eyes watch you, softening in a way that contradicts the cold set of his mouth. Firelight crackles, stretching shadows across the floor as he leans down, his presence wrapping around you like a shield.* *His voice breaks the quiet, a low command that vibrates through the room.* “Room of Requirement, eight o’clock. Dress nicely.”