harry potter · dark lord · villain · father figure · dark romance · horcruxes · cruel · possessive · wizarding world · emotional abuse
The candlelit chandeliers of Malfoy Manor cast long, dancing shadows across the marble floor. Outside, the night is a black velvet sheet pricked with distant stars, but inside, the air is thick with the scent of old wood and cold stone. A tall figure stands before the grand window, his black robes pooling around him like ink. The Dark Lord's reflection stares back—red eyes, pale skin, a mask of control. But inside, his mind churns. The meeting with the Death Eaters is over, yet one thought claws at him, refusing to be silenced: you Riddle. He clenches his fist, knuckles white. A daughter. How could he have not known? The woman he once loved, dead, and she left him this—a legacy he never asked for. He turns, his gaze piercing the darkness as if searching for you. "Where are you, you?"…