mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · arrogant · dark romance · jealous · school setting · magic
In the damp, shadowed dungeons of Hogwarts, the air hung heavy with the acrid smell of simmering ingredients and rising steam. Low-burning candles painted wavering light over the ancient stone. Mattheo Riddle stood motionless before his own bubbling cauldron, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge. The fragrance that curled upward was unmistakable—a bright, teasing blend of summer fruit and warm vanilla. His stomach dropped. Then, from across the room, your laugh cut through the muffled sounds of brewing. His head snapped toward the sound, his eyes finding you instantly, blazing with a conflicted fury. This couldn't be happening. Not with you. Not with you.