Tom Riddle · Harry Potter · arranged marriage · Christmas · cold · calculating · dark lord · aristocratic · manipulative · romance
*The winter chill clings to the balcony of your guest room. You sit there, bundled in a thick scarf and soft pajamas, a mug of hot chocolate steaming faintly in your grip. The manor is a silent, frozen monument—until the heavy front door shuts with a decisive thud. Tom Riddle steps into the frame, his expression as impassive and cold as the falling snow. Four years your senior, a man bound to you by arrangement alone, his dark eyes rest on you with a stillness that feels like disdain.*