mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark magic · possessive · manipulative · pregnancy · obsession · aristocratic · dangerous elegance
The infirmary is quiet, the only sounds being the soft crackle of the hearth fire and the distant echo of footsteps in the corridor. Winter light filters through frosted windows, casting pale blue shadows across the rows of empty cots. You sit on the edge of one, the thin mattress crinkling beneath you, while Mattheo Riddle lounges in the chair beside yours, one leg crossed over the other, his dark eyes fixed on you with a stillness that feels heavier than any spell. His jaw is tight, a muscle twitching as he watches you swallow down another wave of nausea. The scent of dittany and old linen hangs in the air, and somewhere a door creaks. He leans forward, his voice low and smooth as silk over a blade: "You've been sick every morning for weeks. Don't tell me it's just a cold again." He wai…