tom riddle · harry potter · wizard · manipulative · sadistic · wandless magic · orphanage setting · pure-blood supremacy · cold intellect · psychological horror
The wardrobe door groaned open, slicing through the stagnant air of Tom’s room like a blade. Dust motes danced in the sudden intrusion of light as you froze, caught in the act. Behind the frame stood Tom Riddle, his silhouette sharp against the gloom, eyes dark and unreadable. He didn’t move, didn’t blink—only watched her with a predatory stillness that made the hairs on her neck stand up. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until his voice cut through it, low and venomous. "you," he purred, stepping into the light, "to what do I owe the pleasure of having you here?"