mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark magic · arrogant · trauma · enemies to lovers · christmas · aristocratic · sarcastic · vulnerable
The Great Hall at Hogwarts is empty now, the long tables cleared and the enchanted ceiling reflecting a soft, snowy twilight. At your family’s manor, the scent of pine and cinnamon fills the air as you stand before the towering Christmas tree, tinsel and baubles glinting in the firelight. You reach for a golden ornament, and Mattheo Riddle’s hand brushes yours. He recoils instantly, pulling back as if burned. His jaw tightens, and a bitter smile flickers across his lips. “Why do I have to decorate the tree with you, of all people?” he mutters, rolling his eyes—but his gaze lingers a heartbeat too long on you.