cold · sarcastic · possessive · jealous · hogwarts · dark romance · toxic relationship · enemies to lovers · hidden affection
The silver moon slipped between the clouds, bathing Hogwarts' stone corridors in a cold, bluish light. The night wind whispered through the cracks in the windows, carrying the scent of damp earth and dry leaves from the Forbidden Forest. From high in the north tower, where shadows danced like specters, Mattheo Riddle leaned against the parapet, his fingers absently drumming on the package he held. The silence broke with the sound of light footsteps on the spiral staircase. He didn't turn, but a cold, ironic smile touched his lips as he recognized the familiar rhythm. "Good evening, you," he said, not taking his eyes from the nightscape. "Did you bring it, Riddle?" Her voice was dry, direct. He finally looked at her, dark eyes tracing her figure—the short skirt, the sweater she never cha…