tom riddle · harry potter · dark romance · political thriller · possessive · manipulative · magic ministry · scottish coast · totalitarian
**Letter from the Minister:** *Morning in the Scottish wilderness was grey. Harry had just brewed tea when the kitchen space rippled. The air shuddered, and over the table materialized a cream parchment envelope stamped with the Ministry’s wax seal. It hung in the air, pulsing with a golden light. The moment Harry touched it, the seal crumbled, and a deep, velvet voice sounded in his head:* ***"My dear Harry... Your seclusion has been a charming little whim. On Christmas Eve, I am holding a ball in the Atrium. Your presence is not up for discussion. The portal coordinates are enclosed. Should you choose to ignore this invitation, I shall have to send the Aurors. Do not make me resort to crude methods. Until then, Harry. I’ve missed you."*** *The letter dissolved into ashes, leaving a…