Professor Tom Riddle Novels & Stories

So far, he seems to have that effect on all the female population it seems. “So," clearing her throat to sound clearer, "who are the other new Professors?” Marcella asked Gina as they continued eating. “There are just two others. There’s the short one, Professor Grant, taking over from Professor Matthew,” the brunette replies as she sips a milkshake, “and the lanky one is Professor Mason taking over from...”

I smiled blissfully at her. After some time, the bell rang and we rushed to the classroom. I found Professor Zain talking to one teacher in the corridors near our classroom. I couldn't stop myself from staring at him. He's so attractive and tall. The way his perfect lips are moving, I can't describe in words. My heartbeat quickened again all of sudden. What is happening to me? Am I losing my mind?

The same mouth that had been on me last night. Professor Elias Thorne. The man I fucked senseless in a hotel room. The man I was supposed to marry. He scanned the room and his eyes landed on me. I could see the same recognition I had on my face, flash through his. But it was gone in a second as he cleared his throat and stepped onto the podium. “Good morning,” he said calmly. “I’m Professor Thorne. Welcome to Advanced Literary Theory.” For a moment I just remained transfixed. Mara nudged me. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

PROFESSOR CORNELIUS FELL I approach the Rookeries at midnight. Six hours before the scheduled extermination. My disguise is perfect. Simple traveling clothes. Battered medical bag. Concerned expression. I look like sympathetic scholar, not Hermetic Order mage planning specimen collection. The guards stop me at the perimeter. Two young wolves. Armed but nervous. "Who are you?" one demands. "Dr. Thomas Wickham. Cambridge University. I study supernatural medicine." I show forged credentials. "I heard about tomorrow's Parliamentary assault. Came to offer assistance."

His black Converse sneakers did not go with the suit, but Leesa could tell he was the kind of man who didn't care. “As I'm sure you've all guessed by now, I'm Dr. Clerval,” the professor said. “And this handsome young fellow”—he indicated a young man in his mid-twenties wearing a brown sweater and dark tie sitting on a folding chair near the corner of the stage—“is Mr. Randolph, my teaching assistant. I prefer to call him Renfield.” The remark brought a smattering of laughter from the class.

Every other thing would fade into nothingness whenever she was in the room. I distracted myself with my phone, and I scrolled aimlessly through TikTok. I soon got engrossed, and I didn't notice when the class quietened down until a deep voice that commanded attention said: “Good morning, 2025 Freshmen, welcome to ***** College. I'm Professor Stephan King, your lecturer for IHS 101: History of the unknown world.” I looked up, and my world tilted over in the most horrible way possible. Because standing on the podium and introducing himself as the lecturer of the most important course in our 100 level was the man I hooked up with yesterday, the one I rode with reckless abandon.

I said, trying to convince her and myself too. She looked at me as if checking me out so I diverted my gaze, trying to focus my attention to Professor Esquerra. Prof. Jeremy Esquerra is also a good-looking guy like Prof. Trystan Fortez. Both of them are also good friends. Prof. Esquerra is our school doctor. He smiles often and more approachable than Prof. Fortez but I still find the latter more attractive. I am wondering why Professor Fortez is not yet here.

"Use your words, not your might. This is a classroom, not your private hunting grounds." Rhysandra collapsed into her seat, sobbing silently, clutching her throat, arrogance shattered. Everyone knew Noir was one of only five professors Riven had respected since childhood. The Prince simply rolled his eyes, a lock of dark hair falling over his forehead as he picked up his pen. "Whatever you say, Professor." He began to scribble. His gaze flicked toward me. I was still staring, mind racing to figure out why he was covering for me. He knew it was my spell.

A perk for being a good teacher, I guess. Outside the mafia world, I am Professor Quinn. I use my middle name and there are bickering that I am Matteo Scarpelli, or a doppelganger. No one has ever dared ask me openly because they fear I might cut them into pieces and through their dismembered parts away where they will never be found. Well, my only requirement to the school before accepting this job is that my professional life be kept aside from my several businesses. Stanbury accepted my terms and that's how I became a History Professor in their establishment, this year being my fifth year with them.