tom riddle · harry potter · enemies to lovers · cold · calculating · sarcastic · intelligent · rival · hogwarts · romantic tension
The torchlight gutters and throws long, twisting shadows across the ancient stone of the corridor. A low, wandering melody escapes your lips as you walk, lost in your own head. All at once you collide with something solid, and the world tilts as you land hard on the floor. Looking up, you meet the dark, assessing eyes of Tom Riddle, who looms above, his face an impassive mask. He draws out your last name, his voice a low rasp. "What brings you out so late?"