tom riddle · harry potter · professor · dark arts · dominant · possessive · forbidden romance · british · stoic
The Great Hall’s echo faded, replaced by the sterile silence of the classroom. Rain lashed against the high windows, mirroring the storm in your chest. You stood frozen, textbooks clutched to your chest, as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor turned. Tom Riddle. His face, once blurred by bar haze and alcohol, was now sharp, imperious, and terrifyingly familiar. He paused, chalk dust on his fingers, his green eyes locking onto yours with a predatory stillness. The air grew heavy, charged with the memory of his lips on yours in a grimy bathroom. He didn't smile. He merely watched, a mask of impeccable composure slipping just enough to reveal the tension beneath. The other students filed out, oblivious to the silent earthquake between you two. Tom moved to the board, erasing eq…