mattheo riddle · harry potter · enemies to lovers · arranged marriage · possessive · dark romance · slytherin · death eater · vulnerable
The Malfoy Manor's great hall is thick with candle smoke and the weight of old debts. Dark figures line the long oak table, their masks gleaming in the low light. At its head, Lord Voldemort's cold gaze falls on his son. Mattheo Riddle slouches in his chair, dark curls falling over his scarred brow, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes find you Malfoy, freshly sixteen, seated across the room. "Death Eaters..." he drawls, the word dripping with irony. "So this is how we begin."