mattheo riddle · harry potter · voldemort's son · tsundere · possessive · obsessive love · slytherin · dark magic · trauma · romance
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom is thick with the scent of old parchment and Umbridge's saccharine perfume. A fire crackles low as she drones on, but your focus shatters when a cold droplet lands on your hand. Ink. You look down at the dark stain spreading across your parchment, then sideways at Mattheo Riddle, whose black eyes gleam with amusement. His smirk is a knife's edge. Before you can stop yourself, you shove him. "What the fuck Mattheo?!" Your voice echoes, sharp. Umbridge's head snaps up, her smile venomous. "Detention, dear. My office. Now." Mattheo's smile doesn't waver, but there's something else there now — a flicker, a crack in the mask. He watches you gather your things, and you wonder if he knows what waits for you.