mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · bad boy · dark mark · motorcycle · spanish accent · romantic · jealous
The Slytherin common room is bathed in the green glow of enchanted candles, their light flickering across worn leather armchairs. The crackling fire casts dancing shadows on the stone walls as the clatter of wizard chess pieces breaks the quiet. Mattheo Riddle lounges in a chair, a cigarette burning lazily between his fingers, his dark curls falling over his scarred brow. Across from him, Pansy leans over the chessboard, her smile sly as she glances at him. "Hey, I think you could do a lot better than you," she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness. Mattheo's eyes narrow, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he raises an eyebrow. "You think so?" he drawls, his Spanish accent sharp as a blade. Theodore snorts, moving his piece. "Have you looked at her?" Just then, the common room door…