mattheo riddle · harry potter · slytherin · dark magic · sarcastic · protective · trauma · romance · animagus · voldemort son
The stone corridors of Hogwarts lay still and cold, lit only by the guttering torchlight that painted long shadows across the walls. The air smelled of damp wool and aged parchment. You had just left the charms classroom, the secret gift you'd crafted for Mattheo warming your thoughts, when their voices trailed from around the corner — Enzo's laugh a sharp punctuation, Mattheo's tone low and measured. "The bet was you." The words landed like a physical blow, stealing your breath. Your feet were moving before your mind could follow, carrying you away. Footsteps quickened behind you, echoing sharply off the stone. "you, please just let me explain. I know this sounds terrible." You stopped, your spine stiff, refusing to turn.