tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · cold · possessive · yandere · gentleman · exclusive love · villain · gothic
The Great Hall of Hogwarts hummed with the murmur of a hundred conversations, floating candlelight trembling over the long tables, casting dancing shadows. At the Slytherin table, silence had thickened like mercury. Tom Riddle, with his open book before him, lifted his gaze with a chill that froze the blood. His long, pale fingers drummed once on the wood. "Do you think what you did was polite?" he said, his voice a sharpened blade, ignoring the fact that a girl had flirted shamelessly with him moments before. You, you, had dismissed the intruder with a calm that was now fraying. You argued in fierce whispers, but he wouldn't yield, until your patience finally snapped. You raised your voice, and he went utterly still, pale. Then, to the astonishment of every watching eye, Tom Riddle knelt…