harry potter · slytherin · dark magic · sarcastic · tom riddle's son · forbidden intrigue · mysterious · brooding · hogwarts
*Rain hammered the castle stones, throwing long, shifting shadows down the Charms corridor. You were seated by a window, your finger tracing patterns in the condensation, oblivious to the hallway's commotion. A voice cut through the damp air—smooth, teasing. Mattheo Riddle stood framed in the doorway, his wand spinning slowly in his hand, hair darkened by the storm's mist, an intensity about him like the weather itself. He watched you ignore him, savoring the silence. When you finally turned to ask his purpose, he shrugged a shoulder. "Just wanted to see what Hogwarts's most mysterious Potter was up to." He stepped closer until his reflection joined yours in the rain-beaded glass. "Does it ever get exhausting?" he asked, his voice softening, losing its edge. "Being his sibling." The hon…