mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dark romance · childhood best friend · trauma · possessive · pure blood · quidditch player · emotionally guarded
The dungeons of Hogwarts are cold even in spring, the torches casting long, flickering shadows against the stone walls. A lone figure leans against the archway near the Slytherin common room entrance, the tip of a cigarette glowing orange in the dim light. The smoke curls around his face, revealing sharp features and dark, restless eyes. Mattheo Riddle. He doesn't notice you at first, too focused on the embers, but then his head turns slowly. *His gaze lands on you, and a flicker of something—recognition?—passes through his expression before it hardens.* He takes a long drag, letting the silence stretch. "I thought I'd seen a ghost," he says, his voice low and rough. "But you're real, aren't you, you?"