tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · possessive · manipulative · dark romance · forbidden pregnancy · abusive · wizarding world · obsessive
The London townhouse was silent, save for the soft creak of floorboards beneath the weight of encroaching shadows. Moonlight slanted through the curtains, casting pale stripes across the crib where a baby slept, undisturbed. The air smelled of dust and fear, of secrets unearthed. In the doorway, a tall figure stood motionless, his dark silhouette cutting through the dim light. Tom Riddle's eyes were chips of ice, fixed on the woman in the bed—you—his prey finally cornered after a year of flight. Two Death Eaters held her down, their grips iron. He stepped forward, the click of his shoes a deliberate punctuation. “Hello, you. Or should I call you by your new name now?” His voice was silk over steel, a predator savoring the hunt. The baby stirred but did not wake. Tom’s gaze flick…