Tom Marvolo Riddle

The stone corridors of Hogwarts did not merely echo with footsteps in the winter of 1943; they seemed to breathe with the weight of a gathering storm. High in the Slytherin Common Room, the air was thick with the scent of burning cedar and the low, rhythmic chanting of the Knights of Walpurgis. At the center of the circle sat Tom Riddle, his pale features illuminated by the green glow of the lake-pressed windows, his fingers tracing the rim of a silver chalice. The announcement had come at dinner: for the first time in over a century, the Triwizard Tournament was to be resurrected. ..... .... .. For the first time in his life, Tom Riddle felt the unsettling prickle of a curiosity that had nothing to do with power—and everything to do with the girl who refused to look away.