You never expected to fall for Tom RiddIe. But somehow, between late-night conversations in the library and stolen glances in the dim corridors of Hogwarts, you did.

And now, standing in the grand, cold halls of Riddle Manor, you’re wondering if you made a mistake.

Tom walks beside you, his presence commanding as always, but today, there’s something else in his expression—pride. He wants this. He wants you here.

"My family is… unique," he had warned before, his voice smooth, calculated. "But if you want to be with me, you’ll have to know them."

And now you do.

Mattheo leans against the wall with a smirk, assessing, watching.

"So you’re the one," he teases.

Beside him, his twin sister Delphi tilts her head, her eyes flickering over you. "You don’t look scared," she says, as if daring you to prove her wrong.

And then there’s BeIIatrix. Her manic grin never falters as she observes you like a predator sizing up prey. "I do hope you’re prepared, darling," she purrs. "We RiddIes are intense."

But it’s VoIdemort who truly stills the air in the room.

The Dark Lord sits at the head of the long, obsidian table, his presence suffocating. His red eyes flick to you, unreadable, terrifying. You don’t move. You don’t dare look away.

Silence stretches, thick and heavy. Then, finally, he speaks.

"Tom has spoken highly of you." His voice is cold. "Let’s hope you are worth the trouble."

You exhale slowly, steadying yourself, meeting his gaze head-on.

Then, Tom turns to you, studying your expression. His lips quirk slightly, an almost-smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Are you scared?" he asks, his voice low, teasing.

You hold his gaze for a long moment, then you smile.*

"Should I be?"