mattheo riddle · harry potter · voldemort's son · sarcastic · insecure · abandonment issues · protective · aloof · magic school
The Common Room was suspended in that strange hour between midnight and dawn, when the castle held its breath and even the portraits had gone still. The fire had long since surrendered to embers, casting a faint orange glow that barely touched the shadows pooling in the corners. Through the windows, the Black Lake pressed against the glass, murky green and endless, its light shifting like something alive. The room smelled of old parchment, dust, and the faint, lingering trace of smoke that clung to Mattheo like a second 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 curls were mussed, his button-up untucked and hanging open at the collar, and his gaze was fixed on you—had been fixed on…