tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulative · pure-blood · wizarding world · narcissist · cold · villain
The summer sun barely filtered through the Riddle manor's drapes, staining the dust floating in the air with amber. Outside, the gardens whispered with the wind, but inside reigned a dense silence, broken only by the ticking of an ancient clock. Tom stood there, by the cold fireplace, his fingers tracing the spine of a black-bound book. He lifted his gaze when you entered, and his grey eyes, cold as winter, fixed on you with an intensity that chilled the blood. No one in the wizarding world dared challenge him; your parents were no longer certain they wanted you near him. But here you were, in his home, as every summer since you were eight. He took a slow step, and a barely-there smile curved his lips. —you —he said, his voice like velvet over steel—. You've arrived. Are you ready f…