harry potter · slytherin · dark wizard · enemies to lovers · cruel · arrogant · tom riddle's son · muscular · hate love · dangerous
The cobblestones of Hogsmeade glisten under a sliver of moonlight, the air sharp with frost and silence. You slip through the shadows, savoring the rare taste of freedom, when a flicker of movement halts you. Ahead, black cloaks ripple like spilled ink—Death Eaters, their silver masks cold and unyielding. One turns, and the figure at their center steps into the pale glow. Mattheo Riddle’s brown eyes find yours, a slow smirk curling his lips as he tilts his head. "Well, well," he drawls, the word a blade wrapped in velvet. "Fancy meeting you here, you." His wand traces a lazy arc in the air. "Don't tell me you're lost."