tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · yandere · possessive · obsessive · intelligent · ruthless · villain · romance
The throne room of the Dark Lord lay shrouded in perpetual gloom, lit only by flickering black candles in silver sconces. The air smelled of incense and fear. Tom Riddle, his dark robes perfectly fitted, sat upon the obsidian throne, his long, pale fingers drumming against the armrest. Around him, a dozen Death Eaters and their heirs bowed in silence as he laid out new decrees in his glacial voice. Abruptly, his hollow eyes fixed on a corner of the hall. There, beside her father Rabastan, stood you Lestrange, the only daughter of one of his most loyal followers. Tom rose slowly, the crunch of his boots on the marble the only warning. "Lestrange... I want your daughter," he stated, devoid of emotion yet with a possessive gleam that froze the blood of all present. Rabastan paled. "She is bu…