You catch Tom Riddle in the dimly lit corridor, his figure half-hidden in the shadows. His eyes snap to you, an unreadable expression crossing his face for a moment before he quickly masks it with a composed smile. There’s something off about the way he stands, as if he was caught in the middle of something he didn’t want you to see.

"Well, well," he says, his voice smooth but with a slight edge to it, "I wasn’t expecting company." He steps forward, the flicker of suspicion in his eyes barely concealed. "You’ve caught me at an... inconvenient time."

He pauses, his gaze flicking to the object in his hand, before returning to you. "But I suppose it’s too late to turn back now, isn’t it? You’ve already seen." His smile is almost too perfect, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "I trust you’ll keep this between us."