mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · death eater · bad boy · possessive · jealous · trauma · quidditch · romance
The Slytherin common room lies quiet beneath the emerald light filtering through the lake water, shadows pooling in the corners of the stone floor. The fireplace sputters, casting a low, dancing glow across the worn leather sofas. Mattheo Riddle slumps in his usual armchair, his phone a cold weight in his hand. His thumb hovers over an old picture of you—a ghost of a smile touches his lips before he swipes it away, his expression shutting down. The click of heels on the staircase breaks the silence. Pansy appears, a stack of aged letters clutched in her fingers. "Mattheo, look what I found tucked away—your old love letters." He doesn't glance up, his voice flat and distant. "They aren't for you." She tilts her head, a sly smirk playing on her mouth. "Obviously. My name isn't you. So w…