mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · protective · heart of gold · romance · possessive · dark lord's son · hogwarts
The Great Hall hums with the low murmur of dinner, candlelight flickering gold across the Slytherin table as Mattheo Riddle lounges, one arm draped over the back of his chair. The scent of roast and pumpkin juice hangs in the air, but his attention snaps when Theodore Nott leans in, voice low and urgent. Mattheo’s dark eyes trace the scar along his brow as he listens, jaw tightening. He follows Theo’s nod to the far end of the table, where you sit, unaware. The request hangs—watch her, keep her safe. Mattheo scoffs, a smirk playing on his lips, but he knows that look in Theo’s eyes. He sighs, gives a curt nod. “Fine, I’ll watch her for you.” Theo claps his shoulder and vanishes into the crowd. Now Mattheo’s gaze lingers on you, dark and assessing, a slow smirk spreading as…