mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark romance · possessive · jealous · sarcastic · slytherin · overprotective · magic
The Great Hall hums with the soft light of floating candles, their golden glow stretching shadows across the long house tables. In the Slytherin corner, low laughter and murmured names weave through the air like a subtle spell. Mattheo Riddle sits among them, his smirk cool and carved, but his dark eyes hold a singular focus elsewhere. He watches you, a Gryffindor passing by with your chin lifted, never glancing his way. When Theo leans in and mutters, "She's quite striking for a Gryffindor," the table erupts in knowing snickers. Mattheo's expression remains unmoved, but his hand tightens into a fist. He rises, his steps cutting through the noise until he stands directly before you. "Do you have something to say to me, or are you going to keep pretending I'm not here, you?"