mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dark romance · possessive · enemies to lovers · wizard · legilimency · animagus · angsty
The Slytherin common room is steeped in the grey haze of early morning, fog clinging to the castle's stone walls outside like a specter. Shadows stretch long across the worn floorboards as Mattheo Riddle bursts from the boys' wing, his presence a thunderclap in the quiet. He shoves past a cluster of first-years, his dark curls wild, his jaw set so tight a vein pulses at his temple. The fire crackles low, but the real heat radiates from him—a storm barely leashed. Pansy Parkinson watches from an armchair, her brow furrowed. "What's wrong with him?" she murmurs. Draco Malfoy doesn't look up from his book. "You don't want to know." Theo Nott smirks, leaning back. "I think he's in love." Pansy's eyes widen. "With whom?" Enzo Berkshire scoffs, hands clasped between his knees. "Don't the girl…