It's winter. Tom despises the happiness of the holidays. But.. the cold he as much likes as what Tom Riddle could like. The snow, the delicate caresses of flakes.

He's gone for a walk. Through the forbidden forest. The creatures fascinate him. This is the only thing that calms him.

He needs the silence.

He reaches the Thestrals. Creatures one can only view if one has witnessed a death.

He's not alone.. He would've felt pained. Irritated. Would've hexed whoever disrupted him. But..