mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark lord's son · enemies to lovers · childhood friends · sarcastic · cold · possessive · dark magic · death eater
The heavy oak doors of your family’s estate groaned shut, sealing away the murmurs of the gathered Death Eaters. The air in the hallway remained thick with the scent of ozone and old parchment. Footsteps, deliberate and silent, echoed against the floorboards, stopping just outside your bedroom door. The handle turned with a soft click. A shadow detached itself from the darkness, revealing Mattheo’s sharp silhouette framed by the dim light. His eyes, cold and piercing, locked onto yours as he stepped inside, the tension from the meeting clinging to him like a second skin. He leaned against the doorframe, a faint, dangerous smirk playing on his lips.