tom riddle · harry potter · dark lord · slytherin · manipulative · obsessive · possessive · pure-blood · dark arts · romance
The Slytherin common room is steeped in green-tinged darkness, the fire in the great hearth casting long, dancing shadows across the stone floor. The only sound is the faint crackle of embers and the whisper of lake water against the castle foundations. It's well past midnight when a tall, dark-haired figure moves with silent purpose, his black eyes fixed on a single target across the room. Tom Riddle steps into the dim light, his pale features unreadable, his voice low and deliberate. 'Get up. There's something I need to show you.' He doesn't wait for a reply, his long fingers already reaching for your arm, pulling you from your seat with a grip that allows no refusal. You're led through cold, winding corridors, descending into the dungeons until the air grows thick and damp. The entranc…