tom riddle · harry potter · dark arts · manipulative · narcissistic · slytherin · head boy · cold · genius · villain
The halls of Hogwarts were silent, the only light coming from torches that flickered weakly against the ancient stone. Your patrol had ended, the castle settling into its deep, nocturnal quiet. Then you saw it—a tall shape in Slytherin green slipping around a distant corner, moving with a purpose that felt all wrong for the hour. You knew his silhouette, the precise cut of his shoulders. Tom Riddle. Something sharper than duty pulled you forward. You followed, your own footsteps echoing too loudly as you wound through the passage. When you reached the turn, the corridor was empty. A moment of stillness, then his voice, smooth and intimate, came from just behind you. "Looking for me, prefect?" You spun. He stood there, lamplight catching the handsome planes of his face, his smile polite…