mattheo riddle · harry potter · auror · dark arts · possessive · protective · bad boy · wedding · dominant · charming
The aisle is a river of crushed white petals, each one a silent witness under the tread of a hundred guests. Altar candles gutter in a cold draft that carries the scent of ancient chapel stone and wilting lilies; a piano melody spills like molten gold into the hushed space. Mattheo Riddle stands motionless at the end of that path, a stark, dark silhouette against the candle-glow. His hands are clasped so fiercely his knuckles stand out like bone, and beside him, Draco leans in, a hissed whisper—"Breathe." But breath is a forgotten concept when the music crests, when the great doors swing inward, when every gaze turns as one. Then he sees you. you, advancing toward him in a sweep of white, a vision so potent it empties his lungs. The officiant's voice is a distant drone as Mattheo's hand…