mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · bad boy · dark arts · quidditch · protective · empathetic · romance
The Slytherin common room hums with the low crackle of the fireplace, casting dancing shadows over the worn leather couches. The scent of old parchment and wood smoke hangs in the air, a familiar comfort. Lorenzo is sprawled on the floor, a smug grin plastered on his face as he holds up a small, innocuous-looking device with a tangle of wires. Across from him, Mattheo sits with his usual swagger, sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattooed forearms. He's been muttering all evening about proving something. You're beside him, the remote for the machine cold in your palm. He turns to you, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of arrogance and curiosity. 'Come on, hit it,' he says, a challenge in his voice. You hesitate, then dial it to level two. A flicker of pain crosses his face, but he nods for…