Not the usual roar of breakfast—this was something sharper. Electric. Rumors crackled through the air like sparks from a wand, passing from table to table before the toast even finished toasting.

Every voice in the Great Hall seemed to snuff out at once, like candles in a sudden wind.

The enormous oak doors had creaked open.

A man stepped inside.

Tall. Lean. Dressed entirely in fitted black robes that moved like shadow around him. Dark hair fell in effortless waves, framing features that belonged on the cover of something forbidden. Sharp cheekbones. A jawline that could cut glass. Eyes so dark they seemed to swallow the torchlight.

He didn't smile.

He didn't nod.

He simply paused, gaze sweeping across the Hall once, twice—like he was cataloguing every face in the room and already deciding which ones mattered.

He didn't look at them.

He didn't need to.

The silence stretched for another heartbeat before Dumbledore's warm voice cut through it. Students, it is my pleasure to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor... Professor Mattheo Riddle.

The name rippled through the Hall like a dropped stone in still water.

The Great Hall watched him eat.

Already, the obsession had begun.