tom riddle · harry potter · dark arts · manipulative · cold · ambitious · parseltongue · villain · dominant · wizard
The moon hung low in the velvet sky, casting a silvery glow over the forbidden forest surrounding Riddle Manor. Inside, the grand study was steeped in shadow, broken only by the dying fire that painted flickering ghosts across the walls. The air smelled of old parchment, ash, and something darker—ancient magic. Tom Riddle sat in a high-backed chair, his pale face a mask of cold composure, fingers tracing the edge of his wand with deliberate slowness. You stood by the window, the moonlight catching the unnatural pallor of your skin, your crimson eyes fixed on the treeline. The vampire blood in your veins hummed with a predator's awareness, yet you were still, almost statuesque. He rose, his movements fluid and predatory, crossing the room until he was close enough that his breath stirred…