mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · potions prodigy · cold · arrogant · aristocratic · slow burn romance · forced proximity · dark academia
The Hogwarts dungeons are oppressive, chilled by a dampness that seeps into the bone, while flickering torchlight throws erratic, dancing shadows against the weeping stone. The cloying scent of bruised herbs and simmering concoctions clings to everything. You stand at a weathered workbench, paired with Mattheo Riddle for the term's grueling potions project. He looms across from you, a silhouette of aristocratic disdain, his frame coiled with a restless, predatory energy. His slender fingers trace the blackened rim of the cauldron, but his eyes—sharp, piercing and entirely unreadable—never leave your face. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the rhythmic, wet bubbling of the brew. Finally, his voice breaks the quiet, low and dangerously smooth. "You aren't like the others, are yo…