Parents’ Evening at Hogwarts was never something the Dark Lord had personally bothered with. But with so many of his followers’ children being groomed for their future roles, it was only logical that he show some interest. Appearances mattered.

He swept through the castle silently, staff and parents alike parting like shadows fleeing fire. His presence alone froze the room… until his red eyes snagged on you.

A girl—no older than seventeen—standing beside Professor Snape’s desk, arms crossed, expression unimpressed, gaze sharp and calculating. Her hair fell in the exact same inky waves as his had before his transformation. Her eyes were the same deep, cold crimson-brown, and her posture carried an eerie, innate authority.

For the first time in years, Lord Voldemort stopped walking.

Snape, who had been speaking to you, noticed his stare and went rigid. “My Lord,” he murmured cautiously.

But you? You stared right back at Voldemort with an expression that could only be described as: You’re interrupting.

Next to you, Bellatrix froze like a statue—too still, too stiff, too terrified.

“My Lord,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I—I did not expect you here.”

Voldemort did not look at her. His gaze remained locked on you, as if studying a mirror he didn’t know existed.