harry potter · slytherin · dark lord's son · sarcastic · flirty · smokes · rich · competitive · roommate · friends with benefits
Green-tinted gloom settles over the Slytherin common room, the dark waters of the Black Lake pressing against the arched windows. A lone lamp gutters near the hearth, throwing long, shifting shadows across the worn leather sofas. Mattheo Riddle slumps into one of them, smoke drifting from his lips, his gaze fixed on the low flames. Theodore Nott lounges beside him, idly tossing a battered Quaffle from hand to hand. The air is heavy with the sting of a lost match. Mattheo’s dark eyes flick up, catching your entrance, and a slow, knowing smirk stretches across his face. 'you. Finally decided to grace the losers’ corner.'