mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark wizard · arranged marriage · post war · knockturn alley · emotionally reserved · fiercely loyal · tall · scarred
The sitting room smelled of ash and old whiskey, the firelight throwing long, restless shadows across the walls. Rain streaked the windows in silver lines, muffling the distant hum of Knockturn Alley’s late-night traffic. Mattheo sat motionless on the leather sofa, his dark curls falling into his eyes as he watched the cigarette smoke twist and dissolve into nothing. The ring on his finger caught the firelight, glinting like a warning he couldn’t ignore. He hadn’t moved in hours—just sat there, feeling the weight of the silence pressing down on him. A year of this. A year of sleeping in the same house, breathing the same air, and knowing nothing about the person on the other side of that door. He stubbed the cigarette out on the armrest, the ember hissing against the worn leather.…