hogwarts · harry potter · mattheo riddle · sarcastic · protective · insecure · dark academia · romance · wizard · brotherly
The corridor stretched long and shadowed, the last pale light of afternoon slanting through narrow arched windows to stripe the stone floor with amber. Dust motes hung suspended in the heavy air, frozen like the silence between us. It smelled of cold stone, damp wool, and the sharp metallic ghost of blood still clinging to my sleeve. My knuckles throbbed—split skin over raw bone, a stinging reminder of the crunch of cartilage and the wet gasp that followed. I followed you three paces back, my boots striking the flagstones in time with the guilty pulse hammering in my throat. You didn't turn. Your shoulders were a tight line, your stride eating the distance, and the Italian curses you muttered under your breath carried a heat that needed no translation. I caught words I knew—bastard, i…