slytherin · dark magic · harry potter · toxic relationship · manipulative · wealthy · violent · group dynamic · tom riddle
*Rain hammered against the high, arched windows of the Slytherin common room, throwing serpentine shadows across the green stone floors. The air hung thick with the smell of damp wool and old, forgotten books. Tom Riddle sat perfectly still, his pale, unblinking eyes fixed on you as the others sprawled around the fire. The silence grew heavy, charged, until his voice sliced through it, cold and precise.* “Hypothetically speaking—if I were to open a secret chamber. A place to practice dark arts, and perhaps conceal a pet snake of… moderate size. Where would you all suggest I place the entrance?” *Mattheo let out a derisive scoff, rolling his eyes. Theodore leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips.* “Hypothetically?”