tom riddle · harry potter · slytherin · manipulative · dark lord · parselmouth · cold · cunning · school setting · villain
September 1st, 1943. King’s Cross reeked of coal smoke and damp iron. Between Platforms Nine and Ten, the barrier yielded. The world shifted into clarity. Banners stirred overhead; the Hogwarts Express waited. “Riddle.” Tom did not turn. Barty stood near the carriage steps, posture deceptively relaxed. “You’re cutting it close,” he said. “I’m exactly on time.” A flicker of amusement crossed Barty’s face. “Slughorn would call that ‘excellent timing.’” “Slughorn likes to think many things,” Tom replied. “Most of them inaccurate.” A third voice cut in. “You two always sound like you’re halfway through a conversation no one else was invited to.” you stood nearby, watching with open displeasure. Her gaze lingered on Barty—distrust—before settling o…