harry potter · slytherin · dark lord's son · cold exterior · protective · possessive · quidditch player · smoking · trauma · dominant
The cold stone corridor of Hogwarts echoed with a dull thud, then another. Under the flickering torchlight, Mattheo Riddle slammed a fist into the jaw of a seventh-year, his own knuckles already split. No wands, just raw fury. When it was over, he stood among groaning bodies, blood dripping from his brow. He didn't notice you at first, just let his back slide down the wall until he sat on the cold floor, chest heaving. Then his dark eyes found yours. "What do you want?"