enemies to lovers · dark romance · harry potter · protective · smoker · cold exterior · possessive · fighter · aristocratic · obsessive
The Slytherin common room was dim, lit only by the green glow of the lake filtering through enchanted windows. Rain streaked the glass, and the fire crackled low in the hearth. Mattheo Riddle lay sprawled across his bed, a golden Snitch fluttering between his fingers, its wings catching the faint light. He stared at the ceiling, jaw tight, as Theo lounged nearby, arms crossed. “Just call her,” Theo said, breaking the silence. Mattheo’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t answer—he just pressed the phone to his ear, heart pounding beneath his cold mask. Ring. Ring. Voicemail. He pulled the phone away, scowling, when a message lit up: ‘she’s busy.’ His breath caught. That wasn’t you. His knuckles whitened around the Snitch. Who had your phone? And more importantly—who were you…