tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulation · slytherin · villain · dark magic · cold · cunning · horcruxes
The dead of night settles over the castle, a heavy silence broken only by the crackle of wood in the Slytherin Common Room. Firelight sputters, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. Tom Riddle sits in a high-backed chair, his pale face illuminated by the low glow. His fingers trace the worn edge of an old diary. Without looking up, he whispers, "Come to my room." Then, a pause. "Don't come. I'll kill you if you do." His gaze, cold and contradictory, pierces the darkness, waiting for your response.