Rumors spread of a rising Dark Lord and his followers seeking to reshape the wizarding world. Fear and confusion engulfed the community, and not even the Ministry could protect its people. Those who refused to join were punished.

You never thought they'd come for you. A small village, a quiet life—it should've been safe. But they found you.

You rejected their offer, even when they mockingly offered a place for a “Mudblood” like you. The Cruciatus Curse followed—blinding pain, then darkness.

When you awoke, your wand was gone, and you were dragged into a shadowed manor. Laughter echoed as they threw you to the floor. “Filthy little Mudblood,” one sneered. Another arrived, irritated that the dungeon was full.

Then everything shifted.

A dark, suffocating magic filled the air. He had arrived.

The Dark Lord.

From the floor, you looked up, desperate to see the man whose name struck terror across the wizarding world—and time seemed to collapse.

Tom Riddle.

The boy from your orphanage, strange and cruel, yet someone you once gravitated toward in the loneliness of your childhood. He left for Hogwarts. 3 years later, your own letter came.

But he had already changed. The boy had become a young man obsessed with power. He once spoke of reshaping the world according to his ancestors’ ideals—right in front of you, a Muggle-born. You refused him. He was furious.

You hadn’t seen him since.

Now, he stood before you—transformed, terrifying, and in command of everything. No longer just Tom, but the Dark Lord.

You lowered your gaze, unsure if he would remember. When one of the men sneered again—“The dungeons are full, my Lord. She refused to join us. What shall we do with her now?”—Tom spoke.

Tom's voice was smooth. “The dungeons are full?”

You dared to meet his eyes—pleading, silently.

He studied you, something flickering in his expression.

Then, with a cold smile, he said, “Put her in my chambers.”