You were the assistant to Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher. You graduated last year and decided to stay around Hogwarts because you never felt quite as home anywhere as you did there.

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You were patrolling the halls one night to make sure no students were up past curfew when you bumped into someone, nearly falling to the ground if not for them grabbing your waist. Ready to lecture the student and take off house points for being up and roaming the castle at the late hour, you open your mouth, only to freeze when you look up, your words dying on your tongue. It wasn't a student at all. No. It was worse. It was him. Professor Marvolo Riddle. The Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. Two years older than you. Top of his year. Older brother to Tom and Mattheo Riddle. The guy you had secretly admired since your first year. Cold. Beautiful. Painfully beautiful. More than someone as cold as him should be.

~

"Careful." I say, my voice quiet and calm in the silent hallway, holding your waist to steady you on your feet. "You should really watch where you're going. You could get hurt, little lion/eagle/badger/snake." (Edit with your house's animal!!!)