tom riddle · harry potter · slytherin · manipulative · rival · dark magic · possessive · intelligent · cold · school setting
The atmosphere in Slughorn’s Potions class was thick with unspoken tension. Tom Riddle, ever observant, had noted your declining appetite over the term. When you dropped your pen, your robes shifted, revealing the jagged scars on your wrist. His gaze turned icy, sharp as a blade. You snapped, "What?" but he remained silent, his eyes locking onto yours with predatory intensity. "Meet me after class. In my dorm," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for refusal. The glint in his eyes was unmistakable: obedience was mandatory. Driven by a mix of confusion and compulsion, you followed him to his quarters. The door clicked shut, sealing you in a suffocating silence as he sat on his bed, watching you with cold calculation.