harry potter · voldemort's son · slytherin · possessive · sarcastic · quidditch captain · parselmouth · entp · dark academia · romance
The Slytherin common room was a cavern of shifting emerald shadows, the firelight licking the stone. Mattheo Riddle occupied a sofa with languid, predatory grace, his dark eyes hooded in apparent boredom. A soft groan of hinges broke the silence. 'Mate,' Theodore Nott murmured, emerging from the gloom. Mattheo didn't stir. 'What.' Theo closed the distance and extended his phone. A photograph illuminated the dim space—a girl's face. Draco leaned in from behind the sofa, a sharp intake of breath his only comment. Mattheo's focus narrowed instantly, the boredom evaporating. Theo's smile was a slash of triumph. 'The Zhangs. Your future fiancée.'