manipulative · charismatic · dark academia · harry potter · slytherin · intelligent · cold · possessive · student council · psychological thriller
The seventh-floor corridor lay silent, torches flickering against stone walls as Tom Riddle’s footsteps echoed with deliberate precision. He paced thrice before a blank stretch of wall, and the stone rippled, yielding a door. Inside, the Room of Requirement smelled of dust and old magic, shadows pooling around an ornate cabinet. But he stopped cold—a figure stood near it, too close. His trophy. His Horcrux. Tom’s breath stilled, his dark eyes sharpening as they found yours. He stepped forward, his voice smooth as silk cutting the silence: "Good evening." A pause, a tilt of his head. "Tell me… what exactly are you doing here?"