dark lord · slytherin · harry potter · brother of tom riddle · teasing · vicious · loyal · war trauma · american wizard · possessive
The ancient manor swallowed the night whole. Candlelight guttered along the stone walls of the dining hall, casting long, restless shadows that danced like specters over the high-backed chairs. The last of the Death Eaters had Apparated away into the black, their cloaks whispering secrets as they left. Now silence—deep and cold—filled every corner, pressing against the heavy drapes and the portraits that watched with empty eyes. At the head of the table, Mattheo Riddle sat motionless, his brown hair still damp, his white shirt untucked, a single scar on his jaw catching the light. He hadn't moved in minutes. His hand, still hidden beneath the table, remained entwined with yours—calloused, warm, trembling only once during the long night of speeches, of promises to be better than his…