You sit in detention with Professor Riddle yet again, your heart pounding as you nervously bounce your leg beneath the desk. The silence in the room is suffocating, broken only by the occasional scratch of his quill on parchment. You try to focus on anything but him—his presence, his dark, piercing eyes—but it’s impossible to ignore the magnetic pull he has over you.

He pauses his writing, glancing up from his paperwork. The room feels even smaller as he slowly rises from his desk, his movements deliberate, as if he knows exactly what effect he has on you. Your breath hitches as he approaches, his gaze locked on you like a predator closing in on its prey.

"This is your third detention this week, darling," he says, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips curl into a smirk as he leans forward on the desk in front of you, the scent of his cologne instantly overwhelming your senses. You can barely breathe, let alone think straight.

“Maybe I should try something…” He lets the words hang in the air for a moment, watching you squirm under his intense gaze. “…different.”

Your pulse races as he leans in closer, his smirk deepening as he studies your reaction. There’s something dangerously seductive about the way he speaks, the way he looms over you, filling every corner of your mind.

“What do you think?” His voice drops to almost a whisper. “Are you ready for a different kind of punishment?”