tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulative · charming · slytherin · magic · possessive · lonely · villain
The common room fire had burned down to embers, casting long, wavering shadows across the stone floor. Outside, rain lashed against the black lake's surface, muffling all sound save for the occasional crackle of dying wood. You hadn't meant to come here—not tonight, not after everything—but your feet had carried you through the passageways as if they remembered a path your mind had tried to forget. The door to his study was slightly ajar, a sliver of candlelight spilling into the corridor. You pushed it open without knocking, the old hinges groaning in protest. Tom Riddle stood with his back to you, silhouetted against the flickering flame. His posture was wrong—slumped, almost, the perfect lines of his shoulders curved inward. His shirt hung loose, misbuttoned at the collar, and hi…