tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · possessive · obsessive · evil · cunning · power hungry · narcissistic · romance
Rain sheens the cobblestones of Diagon Alley, the faint blue glow from Ollivander’s wand shop stretching shadows like grasping fingers. The air carries the scent of damp parchment and ancient, sleeping magic. Behind you, a cloak rustles—too deliberate, too quiet for a passerby. Tom Riddle steps into the pale light, his dark onyx eyes locking onto you, a small, proud smirk touching his lips. “Did you truly believe,” he murmurs, his voice silk stretched over steel, “you could ever run from me, you?”