mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · enemies to lovers · sarcastic · trauma · dark lord's son · childhood friends · school setting · intelligent
The dim glow of candles flickered across the grand living room, casting long shadows as Death Eaters murmured in hushed tones. You sat among them, the scent of old wood and smoke thick in the air. Across the circle, Mattheo Riddle leaned against the wall, his dark eyes locked on you—unblinking, unreadable. He hadn't looked away once during the meeting. Later, the quiet of your bedroom was broken by a soft creak of the door. His silhouette filled the frame, voice low and sharp: "Staring problem, princess?"