imagine:
there's a new defense against the dark arts professor.
________________
"This day could not get any worse," you groaned, hastily picking your books up from the floor. You were knocked down by a younger year, and you hadn't even received a single form of apology. To add to your hectic morning, you were already five minutes late to your first Defense Against Dark Arts class of the year. As you grabbed the last book on the ground, a narrow figure shadowed upon you, standing still. Slowly gazing up in confusion, you found yourself glancing at a young man towering before you, his arms crossed judgmentally. A snarly expression plastered on his face as he glared down at you with pure judgement, as though you had commited an unforgivable sin.
"What's your problem?" you growled, rolling your eyes.
You anticipated an answer, but he simply stood there in silence, the judgment in his eyes flickering red. You startled at the glistening red swirling in his blue eyes, but his mere expression was vexing you too much for you to care about his eyes. You scrutinised every inch of his body, questions forming in your head at every glance upwards to his face. Why wasn't he wearing the school uniform? Why did he look older than nearly every student in school? Was that a bloody briefcase he was holding? Questions doubled abundantly, but the mere sight of Professor McGonagall trampling around the hallway from a distance had you quickly on your feet with your eyes widened.
"This school used to be so... sophisticated," the man exasperated, his fingers gently running through his curly black hair that fell to his neck.
Oh, those fucking alumnus, you thought disappointedly.
"Really? What happened to you?" you snickered.
From that, you earned an unsettling glare, his blue eyes tinting a sinisterly red glow. Your eyes narrowed, stepping closer to the towering man as you took a closer look into his eyes. Before you could ask him, you were abruptly interrupted by Professor McGonagall, causing you to flinch by her unexpected presence.
"Miss Y/N, what are you still doing here?"
And I'm fucked, you thought.
"I'm off to class right now, Professor! Nothing to worry about!" you chuckled awkwardly as you juggled your thick books on your arms hastily, panting.
"Now, now! We're all together now so might as well introduce you to-" she began, but before she could finish, you were dashing on your feet to your Defense Against Dark Arts class before your professor could get the opportunity to send you off to detention. The cold wind crashed upon your sweaty face as you bolted by the wandering students of Hogwarts. Your head turned down to your watch and back to your surroundings anxiously, your speed slowing down by the second.
Ten fucking minutes, you cursed in your head, stomping your right foot furiously.
Standing before the closed doors of your classroom, you inhaled sharply as you shut your eyes as tight as you could. You were finally here. The massive, wooden door creaked open, revealing a room filled with students gazing forward. You hadn't the time to approach your teacher, so with everything it took, you sneaked by the corner seat silently and settled down without a care about who stood before the classroom with the upper hand.
"Miss Y/N!" you heard your name announced in front of the class, your last name echoed to the very ends of the classroom. With your widened eyes, you slowly turned around.
Your utter doom; the very annihilation of your dignity stood meters before you with a prideful smirk plastered on his face. The man you had encountered before, holding the utmost power to commence your ruination, was the very first person you had vexed on the very beginning of the school year. And you were certain he knew that as well.
He knew it all along.
"So good of you to join us," he smiled, his eyebrows shooting up innocently.
"Right," you muttered as you gradually sunk into your seat.
"Good afternoon students," he began as he crossed his arms. "I'm Professor Riddle, and it seems like..."
He paused for a moment, subtly gazing down onto his desk. Silently, he quickly analysed the paper before gazing up to the students. "...I'll be your permanent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
Once again, silence fell upon the room, lurking between students who were keen on chattering, but were terrified. As for you, there was nothing fearful about him physically—the man was nothing but a mere graduate with a briefcase filled with messily written notes and appallingly thick books. It wasn't his features, no, but his energy he emitted. A sinister, unfamiliar energy that overwhelmed you; a tireless distress of mystery and unresolved emotions tormenting you, with a touch of anxiety. Words couldn't possibly describe the energy he radiated with accuracy, and you reckoned it would relentlessly grow more intense.
"Now, turn to page three hundred and ninety four," he said finally, breaking the silence once and for all.
Time gradually flew by, leaving you restless by the second. You were merely grateful the professor hadn't spent a second focusing on you; it appeared he valued his ambition, despite being utterly vexed this morning. Flipping through pages as the soothing, yet firm voice of the man filled the ears of these adolescents, time felt endless. At last, the last stroke of the clock announced the end of that nerve-wracking class. Without hesitation, you began stacking your books together before the man could get a chance to glance at you. Before you knew it, you and the professor stood alone in the vast classroom as an overwhelming awkwardness filled the room. A small, sly smirk grew on the man's face as he gazed down at his books.
Hastily, you got up on your feet and dashed towards the door without a second thought or a glance back, only to find the doors slammed before you, leaving you utterly no way out.
"Heading somewhere?" he asked sinisterly, his voice deepened.
"Yea, out," you replied, shooting him a glare.
"Not after how you treated me before class," he growled, slowly drawing closer to you. His smile gradually curved downwards as the same flicker of red in his eyes greeted you like an old friend. Panic rose in you as adrenaline coursed through your veins; the room felt more and more constraint, despite being vast and spacious. Perhaps it was the unsettling effect your professor had on you, or simply the immensely overwhelming anxiety rushing through your blood. Either way, you found yourself glancing in all directions relentlessly, losing conscious as a black gust engulfed your eyesight from the very corners. It was only a matter of time until you were helplessly trapped in an abyss.
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"Can you hear me, Y/N?" a familiar voice echoed from a distance, drawing closer and closer. "Wake up."
You inhaled sharply as your body shot up, gawking in utter disbelief and fear. Before you sat the last person you saw—Professor Riddle—gaping at you with widened, concerning eyes. You found yourself on the ground, your back supported by the man's hands. Hot sweat trickled down your neck as it soaked through your white shirt.
"Merlin's beard..." you panted tiredly, your eyes drooping.
"You passed out; I thought of bringing you to the hospital wing but... who knows what would come out of that mouth of yours?" he said, arching his eyebrow.
"N-nothing would have- I won't tell anyone anything," you stuttered. Stammers spilled out of your trembling lips like a poured jug, splashing vulnerability all over yourself. In Professor Riddle's eyes, you had already painted yourself weak. Foolish. It was utterly against his nature to surround himself with the weakened energy, yet somehow he found intrigue in you. His inquisitive gaze met yours inevitably as his grasping support on your back loosened. Subconsciously, his hand found its way up to your face as his fingers gently cupped your chin.
"I see something in you," he muttered as his gaze deepened, almost analysing your soul. "Tell me, which family do you belong to?"
"I'm a... Potter."
"A Potter?" he asked as his brows shot up, "that's a first."
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a/n
i apologise for taking forever to update! there might be another imagine coming up this week to make it up to you guys :) if it doesn't make it here, i apologise in advance; school has been a pain in the ass and i'm mentally losing it. anyway, holy shit 100k? readers? this is a massive checkpoint for me as three years ago, the highest i've gotten was 2k. thank you so much for the support! and i'm really grateful yall don't rush me for another imagine:,) okay, gonna leave this here with a mwah and a stay hydrated bitches.