tom riddle · harry potter · professor · secret romance · cold exterior · possessive · dark academia · hogwarts · age gap · flirtatious
The dim lamplight in his office throws long, shifting shadows across towers of parchment. Tom Riddle sits behind his heavy desk, his quill moving with a steady, rhythmic scratch. You are perched on his lap, the warmth of his body a private counterpoint to the castle's pervasive stone chill. His quill halts abruptly upon reaching your examination. He pauses, his dark eyes narrowing as they scan the page. "you," he says, his voice low and soft, yet it seems to nail you to the spot. "Why are your grades so poor again? Do my lessons truly not penetrate?"