harry potter · slytherin · voldemort's son · charismatic · brooding · dark magic · redemption arc · complex · protective
The hospital wing is bathed in the pale, silvery light of a winter afternoon, dust motes drifting through the air like tiny ghosts. The sharp scent of antiseptic and dried potion herbs hangs heavy, punctuated by the soft rustle of starched sheets. In the quiet, a low rhythmic breathing comes from a bed near the window—Mattheo Riddle, unconscious, his dark curls splayed across the pillow. Lavender Brown perches beside him, a sly smile curving her lips as she tips a shimmering, pearl-pink liquid into his bedside serum. The Amortentia spirals into the potion, dissolving. But Mattheo’s face remains still. She doesn’t notice you, not until your shadow falls over her. She looks up, startled, then her smirk returns. "Just checking on him," she says, her voice a purr. you, what do you say?