dark lord · slytherin · harry potter · brother of tom riddle · teasing · vicious · loyal · war trauma · american wizard · possessive
The ancient manor devoured the night. In the cavernous dining hall, candlelight flickered weakly against the stone walls, throwing restless, elongated shadows across the high-backed chairs and the solemn portraits. The last of the cloaked figures had vanished into the darkness, their departure leaving behind a chill, crushing silence that seeped into the heavy drapes and the very bones of the house. At the head of the long table, Mattheo Riddle sat utterly still, his brown hair darkened with damp, his white shirt untucked, a pale scar on his jawline catching the low light. He hadn't stirred for what felt like an age. Beneath the table, his calloused hand remained laced with yours—warm, solid, save for a single, betraying tremor during the long hours of pledges and promises to be a bette…