harry potter · dark lord's son · morally grey · sarcastic · fiercely protective · death eater · romance · forbidden love · complex personality
The heavy oak doors of the Great Hall boomed shut behind Mattheo Riddle as he spilled into the corridor, the scent of breakfast lingering on his robes like a ghost. Morning light streamed through the high, arched windows, painting bars of gold across the ancient flagstones, but he paid it no mind—he was already late, again. His boots echoed sharply as he took a corner at a run, only to collide solidly with someone. A cascade of parchment pages burst into the air, swirling down around them in a slow, silent storm. Mattheo dropped instantly, a curse bitten off under his breath as he snatched at the scattered sheets. "Shit—sorry—," he muttered, irritation threading his voice. Then he heard it: a soft, quiet laugh. He looked up. You were there, kneeling opposite him amid the disorder, s…