tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · possessive · manipulative · incest · slytherin · magic · gothic romance · twisted devotion
The library’s hushed atmosphere seemed to bow to Tom Riddle as he stepped into the aisle. At sixteen, he was the idol of Slytherin, yet his eyes held a chilling vacancy. He watched you, his pureblood cousin, with predatory focus. To him, she was not just family, but a necessary tool for his twisted goal of purifying his bloodline. His hand slipped into his robes, fingers brushing cold silver. He approached her, the silence stretching taut, before offering a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "you," he said, his voice smooth as silk. He withdrew a silver locket, a snake coiled at its center—a gift bought with Abraxas Malfoy’s help. "I've brought you a gift."