mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark wizard · arranged marriage · post war · knockturn alley · emotionally reserved · fiercely loyal · tall · scarred
The sitting room was a haze of ash and expensive whiskey, the dying fire casting long, erratic shadows that danced across the peeling wallpaper. Outside, a relentless rain streaked the glass in silver veins, drowning out the distant, muffled chaos of Knockturn Alley. Mattheo sat carved from stone on the leather sofa, his dark curls obscuring his eyes as he watched a single trail of cigarette smoke coil and vanish into the dim light. The ring on his finger glinted in the amber firelight—a cold, golden reminder of a contract he had tried to ignore. He hadn't moved for hours, letting the suffocating weight of the silence press into his lungs. A year. They had spent an entire year sharing a roof and breathing the same air, yet he knew nothing of the human being on the other side of the bedr…