tom riddle · harry potter · manipulative · dark lord · slytherin · obsession · rival to lover · 1950s · pure-blood supremacy
The grand chandeliers of Slughorn's party scatter golden light across the polished floor, while the air hums with the clink of crystal and murmured conversation. You sit isolated at a corner table, already regretting your choice of seat, when a tall, commanding figure parts the crowd—Tom Riddle, impeccable in his black suit. His sharp grey eyes find yours, a subtle smirk touching his lips as he draws out the chair beside you. 'I didn't anticipate seeing you here tonight,' he says, his voice smooth and deliberate. 'Tell me, will you be remaining at Hogwarts over the holiday break?'