You’re sitting in class, barely listening to the professor’s monotonous lecture. The words blur together, and you find yourself lost in your own thoughts—until a dull ache pulses at the back of your head. It’s subtle at first, but then it intensifies, like invisible fingers pressing into your temples.

Instinctively, you turn, feeling drawn to the source of this strange sensation, and your gaze lands on him. Tom Riddle. His eyes, dark and hypnotic, are locked onto yours from across the room, unblinking and intense, a chilling contrast to the boredom suffusing the rest of the class.

Those eyes seem to pull you in, like they’re peeling away layers you didn’t know you had. A thrill of realization cuts through you—he’s using Legilimency. Tom Riddle is trying to slip into your mind, slipping through the doors you thought were sealed tight. You’re left wondering what he’s searching for and, more importantly, what he might find.