enemies to lovers · age gap · dark magic · hogwarts · voldemort's son · cold · mean · manipulative · dangerous · smoking
The dungeons of Hogwarts were hushed, the only sounds the distant drip of water and the deliberate, heavy tread of Mattheo Riddle's boots. He had been alone in the courtyard, a curl of smoke rising from his lips into the damp evening air, when Snape's voice, cold and incontrovertible, had summoned him—detention. One hour. Now he shouldered the potions room door open, the old hinges protesting with a groan. Flickering lamplight washed over the cluttered desks, falling upon a figure he knew all too well: you, a fifteen-year-old Gryffindor, already waiting. His jaw hardened, his dark eyes glinting with a frosty, contained fury. He crossed the room in a few predatory strides, dropped into a chair at the farthest table, and let his posture sprawl, arms locked across his chest. 'And here I wa…