Dark Rose - *TOM RIDDLE FANFIC*
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- Parts 3
Ongoing19m
Last published Wed, Aug 6, 2025
Preview:
A sharp voice, a female voice, rang out. "Lestrange? Is that you?" With a flood of relief she felt him remove herself and turn to her savior. An older girl, with a Prefect badge stood there, with a blank expression. Her hair fell past her shoulders in long waves, her uniform straight and perfect, her eyes sharp green and large with thick lashes, and a strong and sharp jaw. She was beautiful in the way of a rose, with thorns. A beauty best admired from afar. Very fitting, for Rose Black herself. Fifth year, Prefect, top student, and the best chaser on Slytherin. Not to mention the Black family standing. She was a popular girl, always surrounded with her pure blood Syltherin friends.
Rose took a step closer, "What's going on?" Amy could tell Rose knew exactly what was going on, she was friends with Lestrange after all. All of them were friends.
Lestrange immediately snapped to attention at the sound of Rose's voice, his expression shifting from one of intensity to polite deference. He took a step back from Amy, and straightened up, a charming smile slipping onto his face.
"Ah, Rose. Nothing, nothing at all. I was just... having a conversation."
Rose raised a brow, "You are aware of the time, yes? Past curfew."
He raised an eyebrow, the smile never leaving his face.
"Is it? I hadn't realized."
He glanced back over his shoulder at the girl, his eyes narrowing slightly. A warning. Amy cowered back and he smirked, satisfied.
---
Danger, betrayal and rivals. Rose and Tom have always hated and avoided each other, but that all ends when Rose is asked to Spy on him for Dumbledore and they get closer than she ever thought.
Two sides of one coin, and both power hungry who will do anything to defeat the other. Who will come out on top? No matter where they are, they will always be against each other.
** Harry Potter fanfic, I don't own any characters but the ones I made up. Just for fun**
All Rights Reserved
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Death had always walked beside her, a shadow stitched to her soul. She fought. She won. But what was left to claim? The castle around her - the only home she had ever known - was crumbling into ruin. Stone shattered under fire. Bodies carpeted the ground, faces she would never forget, lives she had failed to save. Victory meant nothing when it was built on a graveyard. She was alone. And worse, she was alive. She had died before. Had died and returned, as if cursed to never know peace, cursed to be the master of death, forever hunted by the thing that should have claimed her. Death It was her shadow, her lover, and her tormentor. It whispered to her in the silence, tugged at her with every breath she drew, a cat playing with its prey, savoring the chase. She tried to undo it - to tear a hole in time, to claw back 46 hours, to steal even one life from the jaws of death. But time does not bargain with the broken. It is a vengeful thing, wild and cold. It seized her, flung her not back 46 hours but 46 years, into a past dripping with shadows and secrets. The castle stood whole then - but the rot was already there, festering beneath the stone. And Death, patient and cruel, was already waiting for her in the cracks of the world, ready to finish what it had begun. Smiling at her from the darkness. Death wearing the face of Tom Riddle *Mature themes* Enemy's to lovers *Tom Riddle*
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