tom riddle · harry potter · arranged marriage · cold personality · slow burn romance · dominant · possessive · hogwarts · wizard · soft spot
The heavy oak doors of the Great Hall groaned in protest as Tom Riddle entered the vast, dim space. Pale moonlight cut through the towering arched windows, throwing long, knife-like shadows that seemed to gather around his muscular form. He moved with a lethal, predatory grace, his dark brown eyes fixing instantly on the solitary figure framed against the glass—you. The very air thickened, saturated with the weight of their forced union and every unspoken word between them. Tom's jaw clenched, the deep bags under his eyes stark in the faint light as he stared at Grindelwald's child. A profound silence held the hall, broken only by the deliberate, echoing tap of his polished shoes on the ancient stone as he advanced, his presence swallowing the room like an approaching thundercloud.