mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark lord's son · cold · dominant · powerful · magic · gothic · dangerous · aristocratic
An autumn bite sharpened the air in the Transfiguration Courtyard as Mattheo Riddle materialized from the archway, a figure of smoke and silence. The very atmosphere seemed to crystallize. You were seated by the fountain with Pansy, Daphne, and Astoria, the warmth of shared laughter dying abruptly in your throat. He moved with a lethal, controlled grace, flanked by Theo, Blaise, and Draco. His eyes, gray as a gathering squall, swept dismissively over the assembled students until they anchored on you. The boy you had once known was erased, supplanted by this hardened, alien presence. He stopped, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers, the gulf between your shared history and this cold present collapsing into a single, suspended breath.