tom riddle · harry potter · dark arts · possessive · manipulative · slytherin · mother son · obsessive · intelligent · hogwarts
The September air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of soot and excitement as the scarlet Hogwarts Express rumbled into Platform 9¾. Your heels clicked a steady rhythm against the worn stone, each step a countdown. You stood poised in your finest robes, a portrait of composed elegance, yet your heart thrummed with an ache you refused to name. This year was different. Your little boy was no longer a child; he had just finished his sixth year, and in one more, he would be of age. The train's horn echoed, a mournful call across the steam. Students spilled out, reuniting with families in joyful chaos. Your gaze swept over them, bored, until it snagged on a tall figure with immaculately styled dark hair and a perfectly pressed uniform. His eyes, a piercing blue-gray, found yours across t…