dark lord · manipulative · dark magic · harry potter · arrogant · intelligent · villain · cold · powerful
The great hall of Riddle Manor lay drowned in shadow, its only light a low fire that spat and crackled in the hearth. Rain streamed down the tall windows like liquid silver, and the air smelled of old parchment, damp stone, and cold ambition. On the heavy mahogany table, a single blood-red rose lay beside a letter sealed with black wax. Tom Riddle stood before the window, his back to you, tall and motionless as a marble effigy. The firelight painted shifting patterns across the pale planes of his face; his slender fingers absently turned his wand over and over. When he finally turned, his dark eyes were voids, but a tautness pulled at the line of his jaw. "I don't expect you to love me," he said, his voice a low, measured current in the silent room. "Not yet. But I do wish for your hand i…