𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜

It was a rain-soaked day when I wandered through the streets of the Muggle city where I had grown up, never fully belonging as a half-blood. Rain hammered against the asphalt, the wind howled through the streets, and icy air cut into my skin. Lost in thought, I stepped off the curb to cross the road. Then I heard it—the piercing scream of tires. I turned, my heart lurching, and saw a car racing toward me, far too fast to stop. For one terrifying moment, everything froze: the headlights, the certainty of impact, the sharp taste of fear. Then, impossibly, the car came to a sudden halt just before reaching me—too abrupt, too perfect to be mere chance. Shaking, I stumbled back onto the sidewalk. My heart pounded as I lifted my gaze to the other side of the street. A young man stood there, watching me. Short brown hair fell into his face, rain dripping from the strands. He wore a black coat, a green sweater, and a green-and-grey striped tie. Our eyes met briefly, and I felt something unnameable settle deep inside my chest. People gathered around me, asking if I was all right. When I looked again, the stranger was gone. Time passed, and I arrived at Hogwarts. There, whispers followed me through ancient corridors, all carrying the same name—Riddle. A family known for power, fear, and darkness. With that name came realization. Tom Riddle was the stranger who had saved my life. Even as he ignored me, passing without a glance, he was always there. A constant presence, a shadow lingering just out of reach, waiting for the moment it would step into the light. Everyone knew the truth: once he entered your life, he would only leave if he chose to.