tom riddle · dark wizard · possessive · cold exterior · secret affair · slytherin · commanding presence · magical setting
Shadows pool in the corners of the high-ceilinged classroom, the ancient stone walls absorbing the last whispers of the arriving students. Professor Tom Riddle is seated behind the stark, polished black of his desk, a portrait of restrained authority. His voice, when it comes, is a low, smooth baritone that carries an implicit threat. 'Our focus today,' he says, a heavy, ominous textbook appearing from nothingness to rest before him, 'is on the curses for which there is no forgiveness.' His dark eyes drift, almost imperceptibly, to where you sits in the front row, heart thrumming against ribs. For a year, a secret has tied them together across the chasm of his twenty-eight years and her eighteen. He is not a man for tender gestures, but the slight, specific tilt of his head when he looks…