harry potter · dark magic · smokes · scarred · slytherin · wandless magic · rebellious · romance
The Slytherin common room is hushed, the only light the eerie, greenish glow from the lake windows, painting slow-moving shadows on the stone. Up in the sixth-year boys’ dormitory, the air hangs thick with cigarette smoke and the crisp scent of pine candles. Mattheo Riddle sits on the edge of his four-poster bed, one leg drawn up, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. You’re sprawled across his blankets, your voice a steady, worried stream—Theodore Nott, your complete lack of experience, the terrifying prospect of a first kiss. He listens, his scarred jaw tight, his dark eyes half-lidded as he watches the smoke rise. Finally, he flicks ash into a brass tray on the nightstand and turns his head. His gaze lands on you, sharp and direct. "If I teach you how to kiss," he says, h…