tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulative · cold · professor · legilimency · arrogant · dark magic · hogwarts
The courtyard lay bathed in the pale gold of a late afternoon sun, long shadows stretching across the worn cobblestones like skeletal fingers. The air carried the faint, earthy scent of damp stone and the distant echo of a slamming door from the castle's depths. A few students lingered near the fountain, their laughter thin and distant. Against the wall beneath the clocktower, Tom Riddle stood motionless, a silhouette of dark robes and sharper edges. A thread of smoke curled upward from the cigarette between his fingers—a habit he despised, a concession to the mundane. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, but his attention was elsewhere, cataloging the subtle shifts in the air around him. Then, a commotion shattered the quiet: a flash of movement, a sharp cry, and the unmistakable sound o…