The hand of the Raven: Tom Riddle

Prologue

As I entered the bustling dining hall, my eyes scanned the room, searching for an empty seat amidst the chatter and clinking of cutlery. Suddenly, my gaze halted on a figure across the room. He sat alone at a corner table, his dark hair falling effortlessly over his intense blue eyes. There was an aura of mystery about him, an enigmatic allure that drew me in like a moth to a flame. Our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still. In those piercing blue eyes, I glimpsed depths of emotion I couldn't quite decipher. There was a hint of sadness, a touch of longing, but also a spark of something indescribable. My heart quickened its pace as I felt an inexplicable connection with this stranger. It was as if we were two lost souls, recognizing each other across the vast expanse of the room. Curiosity and intrigue flooded my mind as I tore my gaze away, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. Who was he? What secrets lay hidden behind those captivating eyes? I couldn't shake the feeling that our encounter was more than mere chance. With a newfound determination, I made my way across the dining hall, my steps guided by an unspoken force. As I approached his table, I felt a rush of anticipation coursing through my veins.Our eyes locked once more, and in that moment, I knew that my life was about to change forever.

Years have passed since that fateful encounter in the dining hall, yet the memories of that day and the years that follow remain etched in my mind like a haunting melody. If only I had known then the darkness that lurked behind those mesmerizing blue eyes, perhaps I would have turned away, spared myself the pain that was to come. Tom was a mystery, a puzzle I was eager to solve, but little did I realize the depths of his deceit and the havoc he would wreak upon my life and the lives of others. If only I had seen through the facade, recognized the warning signs hidden beneath his captivating gaze. But such is the cruelty of hindsight. In the innocence of that moment, I was blind to the truth, swept away by the allure of the unknown. If only I could go back and heed the whispers of intuition, perhaps I could have spared myself from the heartache that followed. Yet even in the darkness, there remains a sliver of hope, a reminder that from every shadow emerges a glimmer of light. And though the scars may linger, I am grateful for the lessons learned and the strength gained from surviving the storm unleashed by that enigmatic boy with the dark hair and piercing blue eyes.