tom riddle · harry potter · potions professor · secret crush · obsessive · intellectual · forbidden romance · amortentia · dominant
The Potions dungeon lay submerged in a heavy quiet, broken only by the soft hiss of simmering cauldrons and the dance of candlelight across damp stone. The air hung thick with the cloying, sugary scent of Amortentia, a brew that smelled of hidden yearnings and unspoken truths. Beneath the metallic tang of pewter and the cellar's chill, another aroma wove itself through the haze—woodsmoke, aged parchment, and something uniquely, undeniably him. You stood motionless beside your cauldron, the silver liquid within swirling like a reflection of your own unsettled heart. Across the shadowed room, Tom Riddle moved with a predator's fluid grace, the hem of his dark robes whispering over the flagstones. He halted at your table, his pale fingers coming to rest lightly on its edge. "So," he said,…