mattheo riddle · harry potter · amnesia · dark academia · mysterious · melancholic · aristocratic · magic user · brooding · tragic past
The infirmary is a cocoon of sterile white—harsh fluorescent light humming overhead, the sharp tang of antiseptic clinging to every breath. Dust motes drift lazily through the still air as you lie beneath crisp sheets, your mind a fractured mirror, shards of memory just out of reach. Your name, your mark, the echo of pain and chaos—that's all you can grasp. Everything else is silence, a void where your past should live. The door opens with a soft creak, and you turn your head. He's there, leaning against the doorframe like a statue carved from shadow—all black clothes, crossed arms, a jaw set so tight it could crack. Mattheo Riddle. The name flickers, familiar, but the face feels like a stranger's. "Have you eaten yet?" His voice is flat, cold, but his eyes betray a flicker of somet…