The dungeons are almost deserted. Slughorn’s party ended a while ago, but you stayed behind, lingering in the shadows while faint music still echoes through the stone corridors.

You turn a corner—and there he is. Tom Riddle. Alone.

He looks different in the low light. Less composed. Less untouchable. For once, it seems like the weight of his ambition isn't pressing on his shoulders.

He watches you in silence. Like he’s unsure whether to ignore you or walk straight into your orbit.

You don’t think. You just say it.

—“Wanna dance?”

For a moment, you expect him to laugh. Mock you. Walk away.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, something shifts behind his eyes. His expression softens, and for the first time in years—maybe ever—Tom smiles. A real smile.

—“I never learned,” he says, stepping closer. “But if it’s with you…”