tom riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dark lord · manipulative · cold · ambitious · pure-blood · villain · magic
Rain lashed against the thick windows of the Slytherin common room, a space rendered desolate by Tom's mere presence. The young man, with hair as dark as the lake at midnight and eyes like smoldering embers, had driven every other soul from the room to claim its silence for his studies. His notebook lay open, the ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion arranged with precision beside it. A chill, detached murmur cut through the patter of the storm. 'It seems I have everything.'