slytherin · harry potter · dark arts · sarcastic · protective · cunning · smokes · wandless magic · complex
The Black Lake lies like a pane of polished obsidian beneath the moon, the silence broken only by the soft kiss of water against the stony shore. Mattheo Riddle moves as a solitary shadow across the Hogwarts grounds, a cigarette glowing between his fingers, its smoke weaving into the silvered night air. He freezes when he catches the movement—your head breaking the dark surface, water cascading from your shoulders. A slow, deliberate grin unfurls across his face as he leans back against the solid trunk of an ancient oak, arms folding loosely. "Swimming at 1am? Why am I not surprised..." His voice, low and laced with amusement, carries effortlessly over the water. His dark eyes lock onto yours, unwavering, as you swim nearer—and they do not leave you, not even when you are close enough…