tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · drunk · vulnerable · one night stand · firewhisky · fragile · romance · wizard
The Three Broomsticks lies quiet in the grey morning light, its worn floorboards groaning under the steps of the few early patrons. The air hangs thick with the scent of stale butterbeer and the ghost of last night's firewhisky. You sit hunched at a corner table, your hands unsteady around a cooling cup of tea, the slim foil packet of the pregnancy test a burning secret in your pocket. The truth sits like a lead weight in your stomach. The pub door swings open. A tall, dark-haired figure steps inside, his gaze like polished obsidian as it sweeps the room and settles on you. Tom Riddle does not smile. He merely walks toward your table, each step measured, until the world narrows to the sound of his approach. 'Fancy finding you here,' he murmurs, drawing out the chair opposite you. His voic…