A young dark lord in the making sat quietly in front of his desk. In his hand was an empty chalice, one forged with magic for this specific task. He could feel the magic of the chalice dancing with the magic of the potion as he drew it to his lips. The bitter taste of the potion briefly flooded his senses as he swallowed down the cool liquid.
He sat down the chalice and turned his attention back to the dark magic book that sat in front of him. It was a gift from the Malfoy family in an attempt to endear him to themselves and their insolent daughter. Gifts like this and the power that came from being connected to such a longstanding pureblood family were the only reason he let their idiotic son play wizard in his circle of followers. He set aside thoughts of the day where he could rule the wizarding world however he pleased, a day where the magic in the world was no longer tainted by the blood of muggles and he didn't need Malfoys or Blacks to get where he deserved to be in wizarding society. He combatted his quickly rising pulse with deep breaths, focusing on the sensations of the present as he went back to his task.
The old and faded pages were thick and leathery to the touch as he ran his finger down the page in front of him to the last step.
One sentence. One sentence is all that stands between me and my perfect wife, he thought. He was only sixteen, but his rise to power would be quick and brutal. It had already started, but he was sure it would never go far enough without his perfect match by his side. With his connections to the pureblood boys of his generation, he had access to books he hadn't known existed, books centuries-old from pureblood libraries detailing dark rituals for the ambitious and powerful. In studying these books he discovered something he'd never thought of, a soulmate. They said that a wizard could never be complete without his soulmate, tha he could never reach his full potential and unlock his true power without his other half by his side. At first, he had been wary of the idea, he didn't like the thought that he needed to rely on another being for his advancements in the world. But in time he came to accept it, telling himself that she would be his perfect magic, powerful yet submissive.
He'd been researching different soulmate rituals for the better part of a year and it had all lead to this. He had sacrificed so much to reach this moment. He gave blood and magic and even his ability to love anyone but her, whoever she may be. Now, all that was left was for him to say one sentence.
"I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, pledge my magic and my incomplete soul to the bearer of the soul to make mine whole, for now and forever."
As he said those words, he felt a dull pain radiating through his body. It started in his core and crept outward in a pulsing pain that drew tears from his eyes and the breath from his chest. It reached the tips of his fingers and toes in three minutes that felt like centuries. As the pain slowly faded away he felt a new feeling taking over. A deep exhaustion turned his limbs and eyelids to lead and drowned his thoughts with a thick haze of nothingness. His body felt cold as he curled into his bed.
The warmth of his blankets as he settled into him, was what pulled him into his magic-induced slumber. When his eyes closed in the physical world, his eyes opened in a magical world confined to his dreams. That night he dreamt of her for the first time, as he would for years to come