Only a few days ago Tom Riddle, the Tom Riddle, asked you -more like demanded you- to go to the Yule Ball with him.

Now, you found yourself hesitantly walking into a room he had told you to meet at, lit by candles along the walls. It was spacious, the floor was dark marble. Upon looking around, you see the tall boy leaning against a piano, watching you with folded arms.

"You're late. We must practice the waltz, as I am sure your skills are incompetent." He spoke, his voice aloof.