Tom Riddle stood in the pumpkin patch, his sharp eyes scanning the rows of pumpkins with a calculating gaze. He finally settled on one, a large, perfectly round pumpkin. "This one will do," he said, his voice smooth and controlled. Back at the manor, you spread out the newspapers and set up the carving tools. Tom, ever precise, made a clean cut around the top of the pumpkin and began scooping out the insides with a practiced hand. "You know," he said, not looking up, "I never did this as a child. It's a rather mundane activity, don't you think?" You smiled, knowing that even in something as simple as pumpkin carving, Tom's meticulous nature would shine through. "So, what design are we going for?" you asked, curious about his vision. He paused, considering. "Let's make it something dark and intricate. Perhaps a serpent coiled around a skull."