Slytherin One Shots

T.M.R & M.R.

- My 2 boys - 

Riddle Manor, the infamous residence of the Riddle family, was an eerie and foreboding mansion nestled deep within the forbidden woods. Its shadowy exterior and crumbling walls echoed tales of treachery and dark magic. As you cautiously approached the front entrance, the chilly wind seemed to whisper secrets of the past.

Tom and Matteo Riddle, the enigmatic sons of the house, greeted you with sly smiles. Their eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and mischief, a reflection of their equally notorious heritage. They led you through a grand hallway adorned with portraits of their ancestors - a lineage steeped in darkness and villainy.

Finally, you arrived in an ornate study, lit dimly by flickering candlelight. At the far end of the room, a tall figure with a bald, pale head rose from an opulent chair. His piercing red eyes, devoid of any trace of humanity, bore into your very soul. The man was none other than the most feared dark wizard of all time - Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort's voice, cold and commanding, filled the air. "So, you seek the presence of the Dark Lord himself. What brings you to Riddle Manor, mortal?"

As you stammered to collect your thoughts, Tom and Matteo chuckled softly, clearly amused by your discomfort. Voldemort, his expression both disdainful and intrigued, waited for your response. The weight of the moment bore heavily upon you, as you struggled to articulate your purpose.

Finally, you managed to speak, your voice tinged with a mix of trepidation and wonder. "We have come seeking answers, Lord Voldemort. Your reputation precedes you, and we are intrigued by the mysteries and riddles associated with the Riddle family. We wish to understand the depths of your power and the secrets that lie within Riddle Manor."

Voldemort's thin lips curled into a twisted smile, revealing a row of sharp, snake-like teeth. "Ah, so you seek to unlock the hidden knowledge within these walls," he hissed. "Very well, mortals. If you wish to delve into the enigma of the Riddles, you must prove yourselves worthy. Solve my riddle, and perhaps, just perhaps, you shall earn the right to glimpse the truth."

He leaned forward, his eyes locked with yours, as he uttered his riddle in a chilling whisper:

"I can be cracked, made, told, and played. What am I?"

As the room grew silent, the weight of the riddle hung heavy in the air. You realized that the answer to this riddle held the key to unlocking the untold secrets of Riddle Manor and perhaps gaining the favor of the enigmatic Lord Voldemort himself.