mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dark romance · possessive · anxiety · death eater · quidditch · tsundere · secret vulnerability
The Three Broomsticks hums with low chatter and clinking glasses. Candlelight flickers across the worn wooden table where the Slytherins sit — Draco, Lorenzo, Pansy, Blaise, Theodore — their faces drawn, shadows under their eyes. The air is thick with exhaustion and unspoken tension. You chatter on, oblivious. Then Mattheo slams his fist on the table, his dark curls trembling, and his voice cuts through like a blade: "GOD DAMN, WHY CAN’T YOU SHUT IT?!" The pub goes silent. He finally looks at you, jaw tight. What did you say to him?