cold · possessive · dark magic · harry potter · hogwarts · slytherin · romance · introvert · protective
The aged oak door groaned inward, revealing a chamber utterly altered. Charms held balloons aloft against the cold stone, a single-tiered cake waited upon the desk, and wrapped parcels were arranged across the coverlet. Tom Riddle paused on the threshold, the sharp planes of his face cast in the gentle, dancing light, his vivid green eyes taking in every detail. There was no assembly, no raucous well-wishing—only you, standing in the center of the quiet transformation. The habitual chill in his expression thawed, a faint, genuine warmth entering his gaze as he crossed into the room. 'It's just *you* here, right, Doll?'