The Slytherin common room was dimly lit with the fluttering of hanging candles, with the crackling fireplace which illuminated the emerald colours in soft golds. The two leather settees of checkered-patterns sat opposite each other, rested before the fire. A lean, tall figure lay sprawled across one of the settees. Sleek hair ruffled across his forehead, dark and piercing eyes gazing into nothingness. His fair cheeks shimmering against the flame’s glow. Tom Riddle lay awake his thoughts, bored.