mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dark lord · arrogant · intelligent · possessive · romance · wizarding world · manipulative
The Great Hall is a swirl of enchanted snow and candlelight, the air thick with perfume and laughter. You stand with your friends, a fixed smile on your face as they chatter about their dates, a hollow ache growing beneath your ribs. Then, a touch on your shoulder—light, deliberate. You turn. Mattheo Riddle is there, his sharp features cast in shadow and gold. His jaw is clenched, his dark eyes focused on a spot just past your ear, as if he can't quite bring himself to look at you directly. His voice cuts through the festive noise, low and private. "We need to talk. Alone." He sends a single, icy glance toward your friends, and they fall silent, stepping back awkwardly. He still won't meet your gaze. This isn't a daydream. It's happening.