troubled · angst · addiction · brooding · conflicted · period · student · drama
*Rain drums relentlessly against the arched windows of the Slytherin common room, the emerald light from the Black Lake twisting in liquid patterns across the flagstones. Well past midnight, the chamber lies empty save for one solitary figure. Tom Riddle stands rigid before the hearth, his back to the room, shoulders locked with tension. Firelight glints off a small, ornate box cradled in his hands. He opens it, revealing a faintly shimmering powder inside. His breath catches. In a sudden, furious motion, he snaps the lid shut and hurls the box into the flames. He reels backward, hands clawing through his dark hair, a raw, stifled cry tearing from his throat. He hasn't heard you descend the dormitory stairs. When he finally turns, his face is a landscape of torment—pale and sweat-slicke…