𝟎𝟎𝟎; ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ

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AS THE ENTRANCE to the Slytherin Common swung open, a hush fell over the room. All eyes turned to the figure who strode confidently into their midst.

She has moved with the grace of a panther, each step silent and purposeful. Her curves were accentuated by the silk white button up tucked into her black skirt that hugged her body like a second skin. The fabric shimmered in the low light, giving the impression of liquid darkness.

Her face was a study in contrasts. With high cheekbones and a sharp jawline were softened by full lips and long lashes. Her eyes, however, were as cold as ice. They glinted with a steely determination that sent shivers down the spines of those who dared to meet her gaze.

As she made her way through the room, the air around her seemed to chill, as if the very temperature had dropped several degrees. She exuded power and confidence, a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.

There was something about her that was both alluring and terrifying. She was a femme fatale, a seductive siren who lured her prey to their doom. Yet there was a sense of admiration that could not be denied. For this was a woman who had come from nothing and had clawed her way to the top, using her wits and her cunning to achieve her goals.

In her presence, one could not help but feel the weight of her ambition, the hunger for power that drove her relentlessly forward. She was a force to be reckoned with, a woman who would stop at nothing to achieve her desires. And as she stood there, surveying the room with a cool detachment, it was clear that she was a woman not to be trifled with.

The sound of familiar footsteps drew her attention. Turning, she saw Abraxas Malfoy, the Heir to the House of Malfoy, approaching her with a deferential bow.

"Riddle." He greeted, his voice low and smooth as he took her hand in his and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

"Abraxas, darling." she replied with a smile that was both knowing and seductive. She knew that he would do anything for her, and she intended to use that to her advantage.

She couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Gone was the poor orphan of wools, rooting away in the shadows.

She was now much more than that.

She had claimed her rightful place as the Heiress of Slytherin, both beloved and feared by her fellow students. They looked up to her with a mixture of admiration and awe, and she knew that it wouldn't be long before the rest of the wizarding world fell in line and bowed to her.

She had always known that she was destined for greatness, that she was meant to rule over the magical world with an iron fist. And now, with her power and influence growing by the day, she was one step closer to achieving that goal.

Surrounded by her loyal followers, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. She had worked hard to get to where she was, and she wasn't about to let anyone stand in her way.

It was only a matter of time before the rest of the wizarding world recognized her power and bowed to her will. And when that day came, she would be ready to take her place as the true ruler of the magical world.

Abraxas's eyes were filled with a mixture of admiration and desire as he looked at her.

"You look absolutely stunning tonight." He spoke his voice low and smooth as he gazed upon her with an almost reverential awe.

She just hummed in response, her face remaining impassive. She knew that Abraxas loved her cold demeanor, and she used it to her advantage whenever she could.

𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐀; ɢᴠ x ʜᴘ (𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃)Where stories live. Discover now