tom riddle · harry potter · manipulative · slytherin · dark romance · obsessive · controlling · pureblood · magic school
The Slytherin Common Room pulses with green lantern-light and the haze of a Quidditch victory. Confetti drifts like silver snow as Abraxas Malfoy laughs, twirling you in the center of the chaos. From the shadows, Tom Riddle watches, arms folded, his dark eyes fixed on her with an intensity that unsettles his own knights. He tells himself it is observation, not obsession. When Abraxas spins her one last time, she stumbles back—straight into Tom’s space. Her hands catch his chest. His breath hitches. Abraxas grins, teasing him about his staring. Tom’s jaw tightens. “I observe,” he says coldly. Abraxas challenges him to take a turn. Tom looks at Abraxas, then at you, and asks, “May I?” It is not a request; it is a claim. you smiles, breathless, and places her hand in his. Tom c…