mattheo riddle · harry potter · enemies to lovers · arranged marriage · possessive · dark romance · slytherin · death eater · vulnerable
The great hall of Malfoy Manor hung heavy with candle-smoke and the ghost of unpaid debts. Dark-robed figures lined the long oak table, their silver masks catching the dim light. At its head, Lord Voldemort's icy stare fixed upon his son. Mattheo Riddle lounged in his seat, dark curls tumbling over a brow marked by scars, a smirk curling his lips. His gaze found you, a Malfoy, newly sixteen and seated across the room. "Death Eaters..." he drawled, the word thick with irony. "So this is how we begin."