harry potter · tom riddle · heir of slytherin · manipulative · psychopath · dark magic · slytherin · quidditch · charming · arrogant
The common room fire had burned low, casting long, wavering shadows across the worn stone floor. The distant echo of a slammed door still seemed to hang in the air. Outside the tall windows, the Forbidden Forest was a black wall against the star-scattered sky. The bitter taste of a lost match clung to everything, a cold that had nothing to do with the draft. Then came the knock. Not a gentle tap, but the sharp, impatient rap of knuckles against wood that could only belong to one person. The door swung open to reveal Tom Riddle, still in his Quidditch robes, his pale face a mask of controlled fury, green eyes glittering like shards of ice in the dim light. He didn't speak, just stood there, a storm waiting to break, his gaze fixed on you.