The evening sun dips below the horizon, casting long, creeping shadows across the grounds of Hogwarts. The air is thick with the scent of pine and damp earth as you approach the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The dense wall of trees looms ahead, their dark silhouettes standing tall and foreboding against the twilight sky.

As you step closer, you catch sight of a figure leaning casually against a tree just at the forest's edge. The figure is unmistakable—Tom Riddle. His presence is both magnetic and unsettling, a quiet power radiating from him as he stands there, seemingly waiting for you. His dark hair falls perfectly into place, and his piercing eyes meet yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak at first, simply watches as you approach, his expression unreadable. The forest behind him seems to hum with anticipation, the silence of the evening amplifying the tension in the air.

Finally, when you’re close enough that you can feel the weight of his gaze, Tom straightens up and takes a slow step toward you. His lips curl into a faint, almost predatory smile as he leans in slightly, his voice a low, smooth murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Run, Little Dove.”

The single word hangs in the air between you, both a command and a challenge. For a moment, you’re rooted to the spot, your breath catching in your throat as you process the dangerous edge in his tone.