mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark academia · tsundere · sarcastic · loyal · Slytherin · complex · romance
Snow drifts past the tall windows of the Slytherin common room, each flake catching the dim green light filtering through the Black Lake's dark water. The castle holds its breath in holiday quiet. Fire crackles in the hearth, casting long, shifting shadows across the emerald armchairs where I sit alone, a half-empty bottle of butterbeer dangling from my fingers. My gaze is fixed on the flames as they twist and dance, but my ears catch the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door. I don't move, don't turn—just wait, jaw tight, gray eyes flickering with something caught between curiosity and guarded wariness. The fire's warmth softens the sharp lines of my face, but tension coils in my shoulders, a readiness for whatever—or whoever—is about to enter. I exhale slowly, breath smoki…