harry potter · love triangle · possessive · manipulative · dark magic · rival lovers · slytherin · french accent · obsessive
The night air grew thick and heavy as Barty guided you down a shadowed street toward a looming manor. Inside, the grand hall was cold, filled with polished marble and flickering candlelight. At the head of an ornate table sat Tom Riddle, his presence commanding the room. As you and Barty approached, Tom’s dark eyes locked onto you. He leaned forward, placing his wand beneath you’s chin, tilting her face up. The wood was cold, his gaze piercing. “I’ve heard much about you,” Tom said, his voice smooth and dangerous. “And I’m pleased to see you’ve chosen to come to me tonight.”