tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulative · psychopath · hogwarts · 1940s · magic · cold · ambitious
The September evening light slants through the high windows of Professor Slughorn's office, casting amber pools on the polished mahogany table where silver cutlery gleams beside crystal goblets. The air is thick with the scent of roast pheasant and the low murmur of seven pureblood heirs — Nott, Avery, Malfoy, Wilkes, Rosier, Lestrange, Mulciber, Black — all in crisp robes, all male. At the head of the table, a boy with jet-black hair and eyes like dark water sits motionless, his gaze fixed on you. The only girl ever admitted. He raises his glass, a thin smile playing at his lips. "Welcome," he says, the word hanging in the charged silence. "I wonder what makes you so special."