It had been weeks since the excitement of the Yule Ball had started buzzing through Hogwarts. Posters hung in the halls, students whispered about dresses and suits, and the tables at the Great Hall were quietly beginning to shift with tentative pairings. Tom Riddle, naturally, had been asked more times than he could count. But each time, he’d said no—not because he didn’t have admirers, but because none of them, in his precise and exacting mind, were quite… sufficient.