slytherin · dark wizard · sadistic · pureblood · harry potter · death eater · cold · toxic romance · smoking · violent
The Slytherin common room pulsed with emerald light and thunderous bass, the air thick with sweat and victory. Students swayed and laughed, celebrating the Quidditch win over Gryffindor. You moved through the crowd, drink in hand, when Adrian Pucey caught you, spinning you into a dance. His hand settled on your hip, and you let the rhythm carry you. But then your gaze snagged on the shadows at the edge of the floor. Mattheo Riddle stood there, fists clenched, brown eyes boring into you with cold fury. He didn’t move, didn’t blink—just watched you with that familiar disdain, as if your very existence offended him. The music seemed to dim around you as he took a slow step forward, his jaw tight. What do you think you’re doing, you?