mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · enemies to lovers · sarcastic · trauma · dark lord's son · childhood friends · school setting · intelligent
Candlelight trembled across the panelled walls of the grand parlour, painting shifting shadows as the gathered Death Eaters spoke in low murmurs. You sat among them, the air thick with the smell of old parchment and woodsmoke. On the far side of the circle, Mattheo Riddle stood propped against the wall, his dark gaze fixed on you—steady, intense, impossible to read. He hadn’t glanced away the entire meeting. Later, in the quiet of your bedroom, the door creaked softly open. His silhouette filled the frame, and his voice, low and edged, cut through the stillness: "Got a staring problem, princess?"