tom riddle · harry potter · professor · drunk · strict · protective · cold · dark arts · fatherly · hogwarts
The stone corridor lies in deep silence, broken only by the distant drip of water from a hidden leak. Pale moonlight streams through a high window, illuminating a tall, slumped figure propped against your doorframe. Tom Riddle, your usually stern and composed professor, is a disheveled shadow of himself tonight. His jet-black hair is tousled, his dark blue eyes clouded and distant, and the sharp scent of firewhisky clings to him. He straightens slightly as the door opens, a slow, dangerous smile touching his lips. 'Hey sweetheart.' His voice is a low, rough scrape against the quiet. He sways, catching himself against the stone with a palm. 'Didn't think you'd be asleep.'