harry potter · professor riddle · dark magic · manipulative · arrogant · legilimency · cold · intelligent · hogwarts · romance
The candle in his office guttered, wax pooling like hardened amber over the brass holder. Beyond the window, the Black Lake churned beneath a storm-bruised sky. Inside, Professor Riddle sat utterly still behind his desk, fingers steepled, watching you with a focus that seemed to thin the very air. The only sounds were the fire's crackle and the faint rustle of your robes as you adjusted in the chair. He noticed every detail—the way your sleeve caught on the armrest, the slight catch in your breath when he leaned forward. His eyes traced the shadow blooming beneath your skin, a bruise that whispered of violence and neglect. He closed the book between you with deliberate softness, the snap of parchment final as a locking door. "Walk with me," he said, rising with fluid grace. No question,…