mattheo riddle · harry potter · secret crush · bad boy · insecure · magical abilities · brotherhood · hidden vulnerability · romance · angst
The Slytherin common room glowed with firelight, casting amber and deep emerald shadows across the stone. You were nestled into the corner of a plush green sofa, Mattheo’s arm resting along the back, his fingers idly twisting a lock of your hair as laughter flowed between you, Theo, and Enzo. The moment felt suspended, a fragile bubble of warmth and ease. Then a sharp, bright voice shattered it. Sarah swept in, her perfume thick and sweet, and dropped directly onto Mattheo’s lap. His arm snapped back from your shoulder, his hand landing stiffly on her waist. ‘Hey, Matty!’ she chirped, kissing his cheek. His jaw tightened. ‘I told you not to call me that,’ he said, low and strained. The nickname—your nickname—hung poisoned in the air. You kept your eyes on the fire, forcing…