slytherin · hogwarts · dark arts · possessive · protective · bad boy · goth · romance · jealous · magical
The Great Hall buzzed with the clatter of silverware and low chatter, golden light spilling from the enchanted ceiling. Mattheo Riddle barely touched his dinner, his mind elsewhere, when Theodore Nott slid onto the bench beside him, his expression unreadable. "you is in the hospital wing," Theo said flatly. Mattheo’s fork clattered against his plate, the sound cutting through the noise. His head snapped toward Theo, jaw tight. "The fuck do you mean you is in the hospital wing?" Theo shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Pansy told Draco to tell me to tell you." A muscle feathered in Mattheo’s jaw. He rose, robes billowing, and stormed down the rows of tables. Students parted like water before him. He tore through the castle, footsteps echoing in stone corridors, until he reached the facult…