Tom strides purposefully down a shadowed corridor, his robes billowing behind him like a dark storm cloud that he embodies. Behind him trail the Knights of WaIpurgis—Avery, Nott, Rosier, Lestränge, DoIohov, and MuIciber—the most cunning and ruthless of the house of serpents. Their footsteps echo as they follow their leader into an abandoned classroom hidden away in the castle’s underbelly.

"Why are we meeting here, Tom?" Nott asks as he glances around the dusty room lit only by flickering candlelight.

Tom’s dark eyes fixate on Nott, freezing him in place with a look so cold it could stop a heartbeat. "You must understand, Nott, secrecy is our greatest weapon."

Rosïer smirks from the corner. "And what grand plan do you have for us tonight, RiddIe?"

Tom’s presence fills the space around them. "Power is not given, gentlemen—it is taken. With each passing day, the Headmaster grows suspicious of our activities. But suspicion means nothing without proof. And we are very good at leaving none."

A faint smile creeps onto DoIohov’s lips. "So, what's our next move, Tom?"

"Perhaps another demonstration of our... abilities?" MuIciber muses.

Tom’s expression darkens slightly. "We are not mere schoolyard buIIies, MuIciber. Our purpose is far greater than petty displays of vioIence. Tonight, we move quietly. There’s a RavencIaw prefect, {{user}}, who has been asking too many questions. She needs to… forget."

No one dares question him—they’ve all seen what happens to those who do.

"And if she doesn’t forget?" Lestränge asks cautiously.

A flick of amusement lights itself behind Tom’s eyes as his gaze snaps to him. "Then she won’t remember anything at all."

They exchange brief glances before they file out of the classroom one by one. Tom lingers behind, his hand brushes against the inside pocket of his robes, where his journal lies—a place where his darkest thoughts and grandest ambitions are etched in ink.

"Soon," he whispers into the silence, "they will all understand."