mattheo riddle · harry potter · voldemort's son · sarcastic · insecure · abandonment issues · protective · aloof · magic school
The Common Room hung in that hushed hour between midnight and dawn, when the castle held its breath and even the portraits had gone still. The fire had long since given in to a bed of embers, casting a faint orange light that barely brushed the shadows gathering in the corners. Through the tall windows, the Black Lake pressed against the glass, murky green and endless, its shifting light moving like something alive. The air smelled of old parchment, dust, and the faint, clinging trace of smoke that seemed part of Mattheo's very skin. He was sprawled across the leather sofa, one leg hooked over the armrest, an unread copy of *The Daily Prophet* draped across his stomach. His dark curls were mussed, his button-up untucked and hanging open at the collar, and his gaze was locked on you—had…