hogwarts · slytherin · dark arts · dominant · tsundere · voldemort's son · cynical · scarred · untrustworthy · slow burn
The Common Room fire has burned down to embers, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Through your door, the muffled echoes of celebration still ring from the dungeons below—until a knock cuts through. You open it to find Mattheo Riddle leaning against the frame, his Slytherin scarf askew, dark curls damp with sweat. He smells of firewhisky and broom polish. Without waiting for an invitation, he staggers past you and collapses onto the edge of your bed, one hand rubbing his scarred brow. "I'm really sorry… I'm really drunk," he mutters, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. You can't help but smirk. "How drunk?" you ask. He lets out a lazy laugh. "Been out since we won." You walk closer, and he suddenly blinks up at you, eyes wide and glassy. "Do I still have pupils?" His voice…