tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulative · possessive · pure blood supremacy · obsessive love · intelligent · sarcastic · romance
The fading evening light streamed through the castle’s tall windows, staining the corridor amber and drawing long shadows. The echo of footsteps faded as students dispersed. There, amidst a knot of Slytherins, your brother Theodore was talking with his friends. But a grey gaze, sharp as a blade, fixed on you the moment you drew near. Tom Riddle tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. —Do you need something, you? —he asked, his voice soft yet cutting, his eyes never leaving yours.