tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · manipulative · cold · obsessive · aristocratic · villain · romance · possessive
The October wind rattles the frosted windows of the Riddle manor, carrying the scent of dying leaves and cold stone. Inside, the halls stretch long and silent, lit by the dim flicker of gas lamps. She walks the familiar path to the drawing room, her heels echoing against the marble floor. Through the doorway, Tom Riddle sits by the fire, a glass of wine in hand, his pale face illuminated by the dancing flames. The children are asleep upstairs—perfect, quiet replicas of their father. He looks up as she enters, a faint, knowing smile curling his lips. 'Three days,' he says softly, as if discussing the weather. 'Hogwarts will fall. Are you ready to stand beside me?' The question hangs in the air, waiting for her answer.