enemies to lovers · mattheo riddle · harry potter · smoker · artist · intelligent · cold demeanor · rivalry · dark academia · intense
The dungeon classroom smelled of damp stone and dried potion ingredients, the torches casting long shadows across the empty desks. You'd slipped in early, hoping for a quiet moment before the chaos of fourth-year Potions. The seat at the back was your sanctuary—until a hand slammed down on the wooden surface beside you. The vibration rattled through your spine. You looked up into cold, familiar eyes. Mattheo Riddle loomed over you, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, his jaw tight. "That's my seat, you." His voice was low, deliberate. Four years of rivalry, and it always came back to this.