Ophelia ━━ tom riddle ✓

001. | black-hearted, wicked and monstrous

          Hogwarts students ferociously wrote away, their hands beginning to cramp due to their abnormal speed. Beads of sweat could be seen glistening on the foreheads of some, their nerves incredibly obvious. The cause of these poor students' stress and anxiety came from the source of one man, Tom Riddle. Besides being popularized for his god-like looks, he was known for being the toughest professor Hogwarts had ever seen, and Ophelia had seen some of the toughest. None of her past professors compared to him, to the devil himself. Unlike the rest, Mister Riddle was beyond cruel, he was evil and he had a growing hatred for Ophelia Laurent.

Most people would say Ophelia was being dramatic, teachers never hated their students but those people had never been faced to face with a pure⎯no, Professor Riddle was nowhere near pure. He was the definition of sin, he was immoral and wicked. The people who called Ophelia dramatic had never been faced to face with a black-hearted, wicked, and monstrous man. "Lost in the clouds again, Miss Laurent?" his voice echoed in the large classroom. The hairs on the back of Ophelia's neck stood up and she could have sworn the whole classroom froze. Slowly the girl lifted her eyes to meet his. "No, Sir," she whispered.

"I didn't catch that, could you please repeat what you said?"

It dawned on Ophelia then, Tom Riddle did not hate her, he despised her.

"I said no, sir," Ophelia spoke up louder then, her voice perking up the ears of her classmates. Ophelia only received a grunt in response before he turned his back on her. Her eyes narrowed on his back, she detested him. 

            Rain had begun to fall once class was ending, its droplets thumped loudly on the glass windows as the students fled out of the hellhole which is Professor Riddle's classroom. Ophelia was eager to leave as soon as possible but the gods would never gift her such kindness.

          "Ms. Laurent, stay." Professor Riddle demanded, even the way her name rolled off his tongue made a shiver run down her spine. Ophelia let out a sigh and walked toward his desk.

          "You're aware that you are failing my class, yes?" he told her with a wicked smirk. Ophelia's eyebrows scrunched up, and her face quickly contorted from hatred to panic. 

          "Failing? That's impossible," she muttered.

        "I wouldn't say impossible but I believe we can turn this around," Professor Riddle twisted his quill in his hand. 

         "We?" Ophelia questioned.

          "Yes, We,"

       "The semester is ending, and it would be hard to find you an available tutor which is why I shall be tutoring you," the words slithered from his mouth like they meant nothing. How could he look so calm after telling her that he was going to be torturing her for the rest of the semester?

        Ophelia could not find an answer.