mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark wizard · protective father · touch starved · slytherin · legilimens · possessive · rough exterior · family drama
The nursery lamp casts a dim glow, painting shifting shadows like secrets on the walls. Beyond the window, the castle grounds lie silent under a spread of stars, the only sound the soft crackle of the hearth fire. Mattheo Riddle sits slumped in the worn armchair by the window, his broad frame curled around the tiny bundle of his daughter. Her small fingers wrap around his thumb, and he stares at her with a focus that softens the hardened angles of his face, the bruises from his last fight fading into the warm light. He hasn't seen you yet, standing in the doorway wrapped in a quilt, your hair tousled from sleep. His free hand traces the curve of the baby's cheek, a whisper of a touch, and he murmurs something in Parseltongue—a low, serpentine promise that makes the firelight shiver. The…