Acrasia [t.r]

𝐕𝐈. 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

13th September, 1952.

Alice sat in the window alcove of the library later that day, soaking up the last rays of the autumn light as it filtered past the muntins. Grace was a few feet away from her—pulling random books off the shelf before sighing and putting them back.

"I'm sure it's supposed to be here." She muttered under her breath as her fingers scanned the spines.

Alice ran a hand through her hair. "I still can't believe he actually gave me a detention." Indignation in her tone.

"It was slightly uncalled for, but he's not exactly in the wrong Alice." Grace looks at her with a scolding expression "You were late." Alice lets out a disgruntled groan, wishing for just one second Grace could just disband her moral compass and agree with her.

What was Professor Riddle so busy doing on a Friday night anyway?

"But it's his fault!" She said, sitting up straight.

"I know but–"

"I appreciate his help I really do, but if he's going to be this much of a cunt every Friday morning, I'm not going to–"

Alice suddenly froze, swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat at the sight of her dark haired Professor at the end of the aisle. He had one eyebrow raised, and an expression she couldn't quite read.

When he spoke, his tone was teasing. "Maybe you'd like to have a word where your language would be slightly less disruptive, Miss Farrow?. He shoved his hands in his pockets casually, "Or might I suggest another detention?" Alice didn't need to look at Grace to tell her jaw was hanging wide open as she gaped at the two of them. Alice awkwardly cleared her throat before getting up and following him out of the library.

Professor Riddle led her out of the nearest exit and into the small courtyard. He sat on one of the stone benches bathed in the low sun, which was still warm despite the chill in the air. He gestured for her to sit beside him. She stayed standing.

She bit the inside of her cheek, nervously tapping her fingers on her thigh. "How much of that conversation did you hear?"

"All of it."

Alice winced. "Fuck."

"Yeah."

There was a pause. Alice gnawed on her lip, her cheeks hot.

"I didn't mean to...you know?"

He raised an eyebrow and suppressed a smile at the corners of his mouth. "Mean to?" He prompted even though he knew exactly what she meant.

"Didn't mean to call you a cunt." Alice looked down sheepishly, finding it difficult to look him in the eyes. His deep fucking eyes.

"Oh yeah?"

"Well. Actually I did," She let slip out. Congrats Alice, now you've really put your foot in it. "But I couldn't see that going down very well so..." Trailing off, she still averted her gaze.

Alice felt flustered and hot despite the ice in the autumn air. Professor Riddle's presence was suffocating. She couldn't work him out. He unnerved her, but at the same time she felt comfortable with him. Alice could never predict what he was about to say. Things she'd expect him to be angry about he laughed at, and moments where she expected mockery she was met with sincerity.

"It's okay, Alice." There he went again, surprising her. "I've got thick skin, it takes a lot more than that to offend me."

"What? Like a student turning up a couple minutes late to a class when you know for a fact they've been up late the night before?" Alice knew she was pushing it with his good humour but she had to ask.