mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark lord's son · cold · dominant · powerful · magic · gothic · dangerous · aristocratic
The autumn chill bit at the Transfiguration Courtyard as Mattheo Riddle emerged from the archway, a silhouette of smoke and silence. The air seemed to freeze. Beside the fountain, you sat with Pansy, Daphne, and Astoria, the warmth of laughter dying in your throat. He moved with predatory grace, flanked by Theo, Blaise, and Draco. His storm-gray eyes swept the crowd, indifferent, until they locked onto yours. The boy you once knew was gone, replaced by a hardened stranger. He stopped, cigarette in hand, the distance between your past and present shrinking to a breath.