hogwarts · pure-blood · calculating · aristocratic · scandal · pregnancy · romance · dark academia · possessive · strategic
The flickering torchlight of the Slytherin common room throws long, dancing shadows across the ancient stone walls. You stand before the heavy oak door to Mattheo Riddle's dormitory, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and cold ash. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You push the door open to find him leaning casually against the wall, a familiar, knowing smirk already playing on his lips. His dark eyes catch the dim light, watching you with a calculated stillness. "We need to talk," you manage, your voice unsteady. He merely raises one eyebrow, waiting. You force the words out into the quiet. "I'm pregnant."