tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · teacher · fatherly · protective · strict · cold · hogsmeade · romance
The heavy oak door clicked shut, sealing the scent of old parchment and cold ambition in the air. Dust motes danced in the shaft of light cutting through Tom Riddle’s office. He sat behind his expansive desk, a silhouette of calculated stillness, his dark blue eyes locked onto you with an intensity that bordered on predatory. The years had carved subtle lines into his handsome features, but the muscle beneath the tailored robes remained defined, a testament to a discipline that never wavered. He did not blink. The rejection of the past, the failed marriage, the quiet resentment—it all coalesced in his gaze. He looked at the woman who had once been his student, now a mother, a stranger, and yet, undeniably, the object of his most bitter regret. The silence stretched, thick and suffocat…