#tomriddle

At first, the mirror reflected him standing proud, Loyal servants kneeling before him. Exactly textbook of what he planned.

But then he realized, he wasn't alone.

You were there.

He instantly dropped the cloth, disgust washing over his features.

His whole life had been made for this fate. He had been so, so careful- it's almost sad.

Not one missed class, failed test- never attending any extracurricular in order to maintain his structured approach.

But then you stood there in the mirror, with that god-awful smirk you always had.

He quickly shot his head to his side, hoping to see you standing next to him in real life- not in the mirror.

But his eyes met an empty corner of the room.

He slowly backed away from the mirror, clenching his jaw-

"Get out." He spat, grinding his teeth.

But no response broke the eerie silence which swallowed the room, only the sound of his disrupted breathing echoed in the walls.

He couldn't move. Every ounce of knowledge he believed he had on his future had been ripped from his hands. He wasn't alone. He wasn't all ruling.

The movement of your reflection caught his eye. You tilted your head, almost mocking his disfortune.

He hated it. There was no him he had always pictured, there was you. You had single-handedly dug yourself into his mind without him even being aware.

But the worst part about it, he didn't hate that it was you.

He cautiously walked forward, and covered the mirror with the white sheet, hiding from his inevitable truth.

Voldemort has always been his future.