In front of a mirror, you stand looking at yourself, elegantly dressed in a long white satin evening gown, christian louboutin loubi queen heels, your hair neatly pinned up in a french twist.

you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you see Tom Riddle standing there, dressed in a clean black suit, hair done, smelling good, with a bouquet of peonies in his hand. He struggles to remain stoic as he is exposed to your goddess-like beauty, almost forgetting about the dinner date you two have.