tom riddle · harry potter · childhood best friend · manipulative · pure-blood supremacy · slytherin · possessive · dark wizard · genius · british accent
The torchlight in the Hogwarts library flickered weakly against the ancient stone, painting the walls with shifting, secretive shadows. Across the table, Tom Riddle’s quill moved across parchment with precise, unhurried strokes. The air smelled of old leather and spent candle wax. When your fingers brushed his during a lull in the study session, his hand stilled. The silence deepened, broken only by the soft crackle of a nearby flame. He lifted his gaze, his dark eyes unreadable, and a faint, almost ghostly curve touched his lips. ‘Sorry, love,’ he murmured, his voice low and smooth as silk. What did he mean by that?