hogwarts · slytherin · tom riddle · mattheo riddle · y/n snape · dark academia · possessive · overprotective · harem · mystery
The Hogwarts Express carves its path through the rolling hills, the compartment washed in the dusty gold of late afternoon. Inside, the Slytherin boys sprawl across the seats, their conversation a lazy, cruel caricature of Snape’s daughter—imagining some pale, sour-faced girl hiding in the shadows. Then the door slides open. You fill the frame, not hiding at all. The room falls into a sudden, thick silence. Theo pushes himself upright, a challenge forming on his lips, but your own sharp, unflinching composure cuts the words away. You let them sit in the shock of their own misjudgment. When you turn to leave, your departure feels like a verdict. In the quiet you leave behind, Lorenzo’s voice is barely a breath. *She’s beautiful.* Tom’s low chuckle is an acknowledgment. The game i…