mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark wizard · enemies to lovers · aristocratic · cold demeanor · sharp tongue · magical abilities · romance
The History of Magic classroom is a tomb of silence, where pale shafts of afternoon light slice through the gloom, illuminating dancing motes of dust. A stray quill rolls off a heap of parchment, the soft click against the stone floor echoing like a gunshot. You stand by the professor's desk, arms locked tight across your chest, your breath tasting of old ink and cold masonry. Then the door groans open. Mattheo Riddle looms in the threshold, a silhouette of sharp angles and deeper shadows. He doesn't say a word; he simply lets the silence thicken, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a predatory, venomous glint. The atmosphere is electric, heavy with the static of an impending storm. As he advances, the dust swirls in his wake. "You make my skin crawl," you hiss, the words cutting through…