manipulative · psychopath · dark lord · slytherin · pure-blood ideology · charming facade · ruthless ambition · older character · magical
The November night at Hogwarts was a deep, penetrating cold, seeping through centuries-old stone and making the torch flames shiver in their iron brackets. A fine dust, stirred by some ghost of a draft, swirled in the thin pools of light. The only sound was the soft brush of woolen robes against flagstones. Tom Riddle moved through the empty corridor, the silver prefect badge on his chest catching the firelight. A stifled chuckle and a nasal complaint broke the silence. He turned the corner. There you were, pressed back against the rough wall, two larger Slytherin boys looming over you. His jaw clenched. His voice, usually a controlled and pleasing baritone, emerged as a low, dangerous rasp. "Leave her alone." The boys flinched, their bluster dissolving under his stare. With a terse order…