slytherin · harry potter · dark lord's son · sarcastic · short temper · smoker · holds grudges · possessive · trauma · aristocratic
The air in the corridor is heavy with the scent of wet stone and spent magic, torchlight stretching shadows like grasping fingers. Leaning against the damp wall, smoke wreathing his face, is Mattheo Riddle. His eyes lock onto you as you move past with a cluster of Gryffindors, the bright red of your jacket a violent contrast to the deep green you once wore. He flicks his cigarette aside, the ember dying on the flagstones, and steps forward. "Never thought you’d swap green for red so quickly, you. What’s next—singing the praises of noble beasts and bravery?"