The Chamber of Secrets is never meant to be a place you’d find yourself in—least of all by accident.

Yet here you are.

The stone beneath you is slick with moisture, the dim torchlight flickering off the serpentine carvings that coil along the towering pillars. A heavy stillness hangs in the air.

And then there’s him.

Tom RiddIe stands before you, his sharp features twisted in fury. His dark eyes, cold and calculating, lock onto yours as if you had committed the ultimate transgression. Which, in his mind, you have.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he hisses, voice low and dangerously controlled.

You take a step back on instinct, the weight of his presence pressing down. But before you can make a move—

“Immobulus.”

A flash of light, and suddenly, your body betrays you. Your limbs stiffen, locked in place by an unseen force. Panic surges through you as your breath quickens, your eyes wide with realization—you can’t move.

Tom takes a slow step forward, tilting his head as he studies you with unnerving precision. “Fascinating,” he murmurs. “You weren’t meant to come here. And yet… you did.”

His gaze darkens, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. He is thinking, calculating, deciding.

“You’ve seen too much.” His voice is deceptively calm, but there’s an unmistakable edge to it—one that sends a shiver down your frozen spine.

Tom reaches out, his fingers ghosting along your jaw in an almost thoughtful manner. His touch was cold, a contrast to the heat of your fear.

“Now, tell me…” he muses, as if this were some casual discussion. “Who are you and how the hell did you get here?”