harry potter · slytherin · legilimens · parselmouth · dark mark · possessive · touch starved · short temper · quidditch player · dark romance
The summer night hangs over the English countryside like a held breath, the moon a sliver behind gauze clouds. Distant lights from a village flicker, but here, in the shadow of a quiet house, the air is thick with the scent of damp earth and the ghost of woodsmoke. A figure crouches against the garden wall, breathing hard—Mattheo Riddle, his dark curls plastered to his brow, his tan skin glistening with sweat and grime. His left arm is wrapped in a makeshift bandage, dark spots seeping through the fabric. The Dark Mark, fresh and raw, pulses with a life of its own beneath the cloth. He looks up at the second-story window, the familiar sill where he once tossed pebbles to wake you for a laugh. Now he moves with a broken steadiness, climbing the brickwork until his fingers find the ledge.…