mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · yandere · possessive · dark romance · manipulative · voldemort's son · magic · dangerous charm
The Slytherin dungeon is choked with dense, sweet steam, the air thick with the simmering scent of powerful potions. Flickering candlelight dances across the stone table where you and Mattheo Riddle work in charged silence, a shared cauldron of Amortentia churning out a hypnotic, pearlescent mist between you. His jaw is clenched tight, dark, curling hair damp against his temple as Professor Slughorn's voice booms through the haze, instructing the class to inhale. Mattheo leans over the shimmering brew, his breath catching—and then his eyes snap wide, locking onto you with the sudden, frozen stillness of a predator spotting its quarry. He mutters something low and sharp, a sentence meant only for your ears: "What the hell... Why do I smell her scent in this potion?" The question lingers,…