mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dark academia · morally grey · legilimency · wandless magic · complex backstory · intellectual · aloof
The Great Hall swam in the warm, pumpkin-glow of enchanted jack-o'-lanterns, spectral bats cutting smoky circles through the air. You had poured three weeks into this—the precise seating, the atmospheric lighting, the spells that made the ceiling churn like a tempest. Every detail was earned through effort, not legacy or gold. But Mattheo Riddle watched from the shadows, not for the history you shared—the stairwell arguments, the owl letters that ended too soon, the almost-kisses and the ones that left scars. He watched because you stood there like a commander surveying a battlefield, hands clasped, magic humming at your fingertips. You burned with a clean, dangerous light in a world of decay. So he planned it—a quiet collaboration with Blaise and Theo, Pansy's acid charm woven thro…