He noticed you first - not with warmth, never that - but calculation. Tom Riddle did not fall. He gathered information like others gathered air. Six-foot-two of contained ambition, posture straight as prophecy, gaze sharp enough to slice through silk and souls alike.And in the hush of that winter hallway, as his eyes lingered on you — curious, sure of his footing - destiny shifted. Because Tom Riddle believed he was measuring a stranger. He had no idea you were the one thing he could not control