Mattheo Riddle Fanfiction - Blog Posts

blood moon — t.n. & m.r. part 1

pairing: dark!theodore nott x fem!reader x dark!mattheo riddle. (mattheo makes his appearance in pt2)

warnings: smut 18+, dubcon, breaking and entering, violence, blood, knives (cutting into skin), rough oral sex (m. receiving), mask kink, mentions of murder, swearing

word count: 4k

summary: purge night— a night you’ve feared all year despite coming from a rich and powerful family. but when six masked men show up at your door, are you really as safe as you thought?

the purge au… moodboard. nav. more.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorised for use during the purge; all other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers—”

“Blah, blah, blah… we get it. Same shit every year.” Pansy sighed dramatically through the phone, her tone dripping with annoyance. You could tell she was rolling her eyes, and you didn’t need to see her to know she was slouched lazily somewhere. 

Not much later, the ominous, bone-chilling sirens blared violently through the entire city, blasting through the walls and echoing in the still-empty streets. The all so familiar sound never failed to give you goosebumps all over your stiffened body, instantly raising your heartbeat. You briefly closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggled to control your shaky breathing. 

“Hellooo? Are you still there or have you been murdered already?” Pansy joked with a taunting laugh. Your eyes snapped open, her static-filled voice dragging you back to reality, and her humorous tone nearly making you forget the reality of this cruel night. 

Because it wasn’t just any regular night— it was Purge Night. The one night you’d been dreading all year, every year, in which all crime becomes legal for twelve long hours. Logically, you were well aware that you had nothing to fear. Your parents were successful entrepreneurs with plenty of money to afford the most advanced security equipment, keeping you safe from any outside danger.

Yes, to protect you, and only you. Not them— they were out at a purge party, the details of which you didn’t even want to know, shamelessly networking with other high-profile elites while the poor were brutally murdered in the streets surrounding them. Everything about this night gave you a sickening feeling in your stomach. But of course, you knew it would be fine. All you had to do was survive— survive in your mansion, surrounded by unbreachable security. Nothing was going to happen. 

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” you responded, your voice tinged with irritation as you hurried from your bedroom down the wooden stairs to the security room, figuring that if you could check the cameras around the house, it might calm you down a bit. You couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to tiptoe carefully down each step, as though someone might hear you— which was ridiculous, considering how large and heavily secured the house was. 

The eerily quiet house was broken by the first distant, chilling screams of pure terror from outside, making you grimace as you opened the creaky door to the small room, your eyes instantly squinting at the many bright screens that made your eyes burn. 

“It’s just… I hope this night will be over soon, that’s all.” you continued, one hand holding the phone close to your ear while your eyes fleetingly scanned over the security cameras, which were strategically placed to cover every corner outside the house. 

“Oh please, don’t be such a scaredy-cat! Every year it goes just fine, so this year will be no different. When has anything…” Pansy chattered in her usual attempt to comfort you, completely unaware that her words were only doing the opposite, when her voice slowly faded away into the background and your eyes narrowed at one of the top-right screens, which was focused on your front door. What the fuck?

With your heart nearly pounding out of your chest and your hand shakily gripping the phone, you inched closer to the screen, moving as slowly as possible, almost as if the slowness would somehow alter the nightmare playing out before you. A sudden coldness washed over you, your eyes rapidly blinking. No, no, no… this can’t be happening. 

On the pixelated, dark screen, you saw six masked men standing in front of your door, their heads tilted as they stared right at the cameras. You felt lightheaded, your left hand reaching up to lightly clasp your throat, the panic threatening to overwhelm you once you noticed the various weapons they were holding— baseball bats, knives, axes, and god knows what else.

“P—pansy… I, uh… there are people standing in front of my door…” you stammered shakily, still staring at the screen, your body frozen in place with your hand gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white and your breathing became ragged and uneven. 

“Oh, they’re probably just trying to scare you, babe. I mean, come on, they can’t even come in for fuck’s sake!” she let out a mocking laugh as the chaotic thoughts in your head raced a hundred miles an hour, leaving you paralysed with uncertainty. 

“Pansy, what the fu— you know what? Forget it.” you snapped, your trembling fingers tapping frantically at the screen before finally ending the call, frustrated at not being taken seriously by your best friend— though, to be fair, when had she ever? 

You hastily slipped your phone into your back pocket, already dreading the snarky text she was sure to send you for ending the call, before shifting your attention back to the screen. One of the men removed his mask, prompting you to move even closer with narrowed eyes, your forehead nearly touching the cold glass. 

“Good evening.” he called out in a stoic, chilling voice, his shiny black hair neatly styled, and his stance tall, commanding and unmistakably intimidating. 

“Sorry to bother you at this ungodly hour, but let me kindly introduce myself. My name is Tom, and these guys— they are my friends.” The scene you were intently staring at filled you with pure terror— this unknown man named Tom, surrounded by men in masks, each carrying weapons that could easily kill you, weapons that were already completely soaked in blood, the dark droplets dripping ominously onto your front porch. 

“This can go one of two ways; you simply let us in, and we will steal— sorry, I mean take whatever we desire, and then, we leave! Or…  we can do this the hard way. But I can assure you, you will not survive the latter.” His tone was almost amused as he finished speaking, and through the grainy pixels, you could see a controlled, sinister smile spreading across his pale face. 

“Do not think you are invincible. We can enter any home we want. And we will want, as wanting is our will on this fine purge night. Do not force us to hurt you.”

His menacing words sent tingles across your skin, all the muscles in your body tightening. And for a good ten minutes, they did nothing but stand there, staring straight into the camera, waiting—expecting—for you to open the door for them. 

It was a chilling sight. Almost as if you were staring at a photograph, the men stood completely still, their blood-covered hands tightly gripping their equally blood-soaked weapons, knowing your blood would be next to splatter across them, mixing with that of other poor, helpless victims. 

When they realised you weren’t going to open the door, Tom gave his men a quick signal, waving his finger in the air, which caused you to cock your head in both curiosity and unease.

“Alright then.” He said, the sinister smile on his face growing wider. But it was fine. You knew they couldn’t come inside anyway. Your house was so securely protected, there was no way they could come in and— Is that a fucking blowtorch? 

“Yes, we are prepared. And you— oh, you chose the wrong option.” Tom coldly stated as if he could read your mind, dragging the words in a chilling tone. Two of his men quickly got to work, the blowtorch slowly cutting through the thick metal doors, meanwhile, Tom continued to stare directly at the camera, his evil, dark smile never faltering, his soulless eyes not blinking once.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” This was when real panic set in, your eyes flickering with pure terror as you slowly backed away from the screens, gripping whatever furniture was nearby to steady yourself. You hurried out of the room, realising this was the time to hide.

Quickly but silently running up the stairs again, you heard the agonising sound of the blowtorch cutting through the metal, sending shivers all over your body and urging you to move faster. 

You burst into your room, breathless, slamming the door behind you and you panickedly scanned the small space, frantically searching for the best hiding spot. There weren’t many options, but the closet seemed like your only chance, so without hesitation, you flung the door open, stepped inside, and crouched down, wrapping your trembling arms tightly around your knees. 

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.” You kept repeating to yourself in a quiet, trembling voice, desperately trying to gaslight yourself into believing it. But who the fuck are you kidding? They were inevitably coming in, and then… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

You gasped loudly at the sudden sound of a loud bang, followed by distant voices and approaching footsteps downstairs. Nibbling on your bottom lip and one hand clutching your throat, you struggled to calm your ragged breathing, but hoping to make out the conversation happening downstairs— although you weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it in the first place. 

“We are coming, aha! And we will find you, you little fucking bitch” an unfamiliar voice taunted from down the stairs followed by a menacing laugh, clearly relishing the undeniable fear they were instilling in you as the footsteps and faint chatter grew louder with every passing second.

“Mattheo, control yourself. Search for the girl downstairs, and Theo, you check upstairs. The rest of us will take whatever is valuable and leave for the next house.” You heared Tom instruct two of his men, his voice stern and cold, before adding, “Oh, and whatever you do, make it as painful as possible. I want her to suffer.” 

Goosebumps covered your entire body hearing the chilling words, and you could tell that these guys didn’t fuck around. Everything about them was incredibly organised and prepared. This wasn’t their first time purging. No, they knew exactly what they were doing.

Heavy, resolute footsteps then made their way up the stairs, each deep step resonating through the house, making the silence feel like it was closing it. Theo. There was no way out of this. The only thing you could do was pray that he wouldn’t find you. But deep down, you knew he would. 

“You can’t hide from me, piccola.” a deep, husky voice teased, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he wore. It surprised you to hear a foreign accent— Italian, you guessed. And fuck, you could punch yourself in the face right now for finding it… hot. 

The steps grew louder, tantalisingly slow, until his footsteps reached your room. Your hand flew to your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your brows furrowed as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on steadying your breath. Your heart beat out of your chest, and you worried it was beating loud enough for him to hear. 

Then it was quiet. No sounds. You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry with tears brimming at your waterline, and you gasped when you suddenly heard his voice so close to you. Thank fucking god you still had your mouth covered. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” He said in a dark, knowing manner, and the only thing you could do at this very moment was repeat ‘please don’t find me’ in your head while only hoping your death would be less painful than Tom had ordered it to be. “I know you are...” 

The closet door then abruptly swung open, causing you to let out a loud, surprised gasp. The tears you had so desperately tried to suppress now uncontrollably streamed down your cheeks as your head shot up. Soft ‘no’s slipped from your lips when he grabbed you by the arm and aggressively pulled you out of the closet, the words barely audible and you panickedly shook your head, feeling lightheaded due to pure fear. 

“Shut up, cazzo.” he muttered irritably as he threw you on your bed with exasperated aggression. And you immediately complied— not only because he asked you to, but because you didn’t want Matthew to hear you, knowing that Theo had found you, worried of what he might do to you. Matthew… Was his name even Matthew? 

He stood still before you, and for the first time, you took him in, scanning him from head to toe as his imposing, tall frame loomed over you, casting a shadow over where you sat on the bed.

A white mask fully covered his face, and in his right hand, he held a bloody, sharp knife, causing you to gulp in fear. Oh, he looked fucking terrifying— but there was something else, something other than fear deep inside of you. A feeling you desperately tried to suppress. A feeling you felt ashamed to feel. A feeling you could not bring yourself to admit. 

“Huh.” he commented, his head tilting slightly to the left. “Tom didn’t tell me you were such a pretty little thing.” he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing over your cheek, causing you to instinctively pull away, stiffening under his touch. 

“Così carina.” he chuckled mockingly, and your eyes were drawn to his hand that was expertly spinning the knife. His other hand then abruptly gripped your hair, making you gasp, and he slightly tilted your head to expose your neck. 

From your peripheral vision, you could see the bloody knife drawing closer to your neck, making you instantly shut your eyes with furrowed brows, knowing this was it. 

“Can’t wait to see these white sheets turn red.” Theo taunted, but you were shaking, crying and nervously biting down on your lip so hard that blood welled up, waiting for the moment you finally felt the sharp knife against your delicate skin.

And then you did. You felt the cold blade lightly dig into the skin of your neck, the sharp, stinging sensation causing you to tightly grip the sheets, followed by fresh, crimson droplets of blood slowly trickling down your skin— but then he stopped.

“Hm. You know what, bella?” Theo paused for a moment, crouching down to get on eye level with you. The closer he got to you, the faster your heart raced, your whole body heating up with a mix of fear and something else. The deep sense of guilt you felt for feeling… this way gnawed at you from the inside. 

“I might just have other plans for you.” Your head snapped toward him, and you hissed at the fresh cut stretching open, your hand instinctively reaching to the wound, carefully dabbing your fingers on the blood still trickling out.

“You wanna live?” He questioned, and you reluctantly nodded, still unable to shake off the feeling of unease, even as a slight sense of relief—or maybe hope— began to grow inside of you. 

“Then I advise you to get on your knees before I change my mind.” You blinked rapidly, unsure if you heard him correctly. Surely not. 

“I— what?” You stammered, breathing in so fast you nearly choked on air as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

“Oh, you heard me.” He rose to his feet, and your eyes intently followed his every movement. The way the moonlight seeped through the blinds illuminated him, and for the first time, you could clearly see his ocean-blue eyes gazing down at you with intense focus— the only feature of his face that was visible through the mask. 

He reached the knife out again, causing you to flinch, but this time he pressed it under your chin to lift your head, the pointy end digging into your soft skin.

“You don’t think I noticed?” he began, and you sat frozen, knowing that a single movement would press the knife deep into your skin. 

“You don’t think I noticed the way you looked at me with those pretty eyes?” You raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, unsure of what he was hinting at, and you absolutely hated this— the vagueness of his words. You hated having to guess what he meant. It made you anxious. 

“I have purged a lot of people, bella. And there is one thing aaall of them have in common— they all have this same, fearful look in their eyes.” he continued, and it made you wonder what he saw in yours. 

“But you… cazzo. With you, I see something else sparkling in those pupils.” The way the mask muffled his voice made you unconsciously lean in closer to hear him better, and he did the same, but for an entirely different reason, until you were merely inches apart. It was a strange observation to make in such a moment like this, but oddly enough, he smelt nice, very nice. A pleasant, musky cologne with the undertone of cigarettes filled your senses. 

“With you I see… lust, yearning, desperation.” he whispered into your ear, the knife digging deeper into your skin, yet still not deep enough to draw blood. Your eyes shot wide open before locking with his, and you felt caught. He hit the hammer right on the nail. 

“Go on, tell me I’m fuckin’ wrong.” but you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. Because he wasn’t. Your eyes darted nervously around the room, unable to meet those intense, piercing eyes as the ache between your legs only grew stronger. 

“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Bet your panties are soaked already, aren’t they?” you heard a muffled, condescending chuckle coming from under his mask as he slowly twisted the knife under your chin. You so desperately wanted to bite back, to defend yourself, to tell him that he was being ridiculous— but the words were stuck in your throat.

“So… back to where we were.” he growled as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, suddenly remembering Matthew wandering around downstairs and being able to walk in at any time, causing him to rush. 

“C’mon sweetheart. I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around me if you want to live, a’ight? If Mattheo finds us, it’s over for you.” Ohhhh, Mattheo… right, right.

You hesitantly walked over to him before getting on your knees right in front of him— right in front of his already hard erection trapped in his boxers, desperately wanting to escape as the tip formed a wet patch of precum on the fabric. 

“Well… you know I could just kick you in the balls right now and run away?” There it finally was— the words that had been stuck in your throat, and the boldness inside of you that had finally come free. It was that unexpectedly tender demeanour of his emerging in brief moments, causing you to see him in a humane light, which stilled your fears. 

He scoffed before aggressively gripping your hair and pulling your head back, causing you to hiss at the fresh wound on your neck stinging at the movement. He drew closer to you before suddenly holding the knife to your throat again, the softness you’d glimpsed earlier vanishing in an instant.

“Oh yeah? You don’t think I’m gonna find you and cut you open? Go for it. Give it a try. Let’s see how that ends.” he warned in a low, menacing tone, your brows furrowing as you clenched your teeth, staring right into his narrowed eyes. 

“Acting as if you aren’t practically begging to suck me off right now, tsk. Hurry the fuck up.” he ordered in a harsh tone, abruptly letting go of your hair and retracting the knife from your throat.

Realising you had no other choice but to follow his orders, you stared up at his masked face, before your gaze fell on his boxers. You could tell he was big just from the imprint through the thin fabric— oh, there was no doubt in that. Reluctantly, you drew your head closer to his crotch, teasingly using your teeth to pull the waistband of his boxers down before slowly sliding them off. 

“See, I knew you were a fucking slut.” he growled, his amusement evident as his erection sprang free against his toned abs, precum glistening at the tip. Oh, well fuck. He was indeed huge, causing your eyes to widen momentarily as you swallowed hard. You glanced back up at him one more time, and he gave you a sharp nod, his hand on the back of your head pressing insistently, urging you closer. 

Your head slowly inched closer to his intimidatingly large cock, and you started with placing soft kitten licks on the tip, tasting the salty precum, when suddenly a mischievous smile began to curve your glossed lips. In one swift, unexpected motion, you wrapped your mouth around his throbbing length, firmly pressing your teeth into the skin while at the same time your hand darted to his balls, your sharp nails digging deep into the sensitive flesh. 

“That fuckin’ hurts, you bitch. Cazzo!” Theo cursed, aggressively pushing you back until you hit the bed, yet the same mischievous smile on your face only widened. It confused him how the terrified, weak girl he saw earlier had transformed into… this. 

“Didn’t expect you to be such a fucking pussy.” you challenged him, fire burning in your eyes. Not because you wanted to die, but because deep down you knew you weren’t going to. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done that already. With the precum leaking from his painfully hard erection right in front of you, you knew the only thing on his mind was finding his release. He was a man after all— simple, driven by his desires.

“You better shut that little mouth—” 

“Or what? You're gonna threaten me again with that stupid little knife—” before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you roughly towards him, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat instantly, triggering your gag reflex as you struggled to breathe around his thick, aching erection. He quickly set a brutal rhythm, bucking his hips aggressively into your mouth, and you felt your eyes well with tears, saliva running down your chin. 

“If you stop, I’ll make you fucking regret it.” His hand gripped your hair in a tight ponytail, pulling you to meet his thrusts as he relentlessly fucked your mouth. Gagging sounds filled the room as he forced your head down as far as possible, groaning at the sight beneath him— a sight that could so easily make him come already.

“You wanted this from the start, huh? Such a pathetic—” Theo’s sentence was then abruptly cut off when the door suddenly swung open and slammed against the wall, causing you both to freeze and stare, wide-eyed and horrified. A chill ran down your spine as you noticed another masked man standing in the doorway, holding a blood-soaked baseball bat while casually leaning against the doorframe. Oh no.  

“Well, well, well… look what we have here. You really thought I wouldn’t find out, Theodore? How cute.” 

Mattheo. 

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

a/n: thank you sm for reading ^_^!!!!!!! this was supposed to be one long fic but i decided to cut in into two (or maybe more if needed) parts! im not sure when the next part will be posted but ill try to work on it soon !!! <3

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warnings : stalking, smoking, gryffindor!reader, muggle!reader, fem!reader, mention of stealing underwear, mention of violence; wc : 3k

character : mattheo riddle

↬ connecting with new people is always nice, unless that person already knows everything about you before you ever meet.

pls pls feel free to send little drabble asks about him/this au eeee

Fires were never easy to put out, burning hot iridescent light that scorched you with a single touch. That was what you were, a fire. A fire that lit inside of him in unstoppable ways to the point that there was no hope for redemption. That fire would never be able to be put out.  

Snape’s class was full the first time Mattheo saw you. Sitting at a table in the far corner of the classroom, listening to Hermione rant on and on about how Ron refused to help her with library ransacking to look for a specific book she was on the hunt for. He watched as you dramatically consoled her and promised to help look through all the libraries in the world to help her find that specific book and laughed aloud when she would roll her eyes and very seriously say how there was only one library that was of any importance to look through. 

 It was only a glance before Mattheo turned his head back to his respective table and went about listening to his own friends argue and laugh. It was only ever meant to be a glance, but that single glance at you forged a whole new life for him. A dark and malicious path he was now bound to for life. From that single brief look in your direction that day, he seemed to now always see you. In classes, at lunch, when you would sneak out to the kitchens in the middle of the night to find snacks to, in your words, “borrow” before hurriedly making your way back to your dorm. At first he hated it, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why you seemed to be everywhere, seemingly making your presence so known to him, completely driving him mad. You were simply tied to him, not that you or him knew that yet, it was as if it was the universes twisted way of a joke, binding the two of you together with string and rope, hoping for a good show when you two inevitably destroyed the other.  

It seemed the two of you were stuck in a cycle that you didn't even know about, he would watch you from afar and you would go about your day blissfully unaware. Silently he watched you, taking note of all your interests and slowly becoming more and more unsettled by his own behavior.  

Mattheo had a bad habit of watching. It was as if it was his way of protecting himself. Watching his surroundings and the way people acted around him helped him understand how much power he would have over certain situations and people. The people he picked fights with, befriended, sat near, they all had been watched and preyed upon before he made his move.  

He cant remember a time he didn’t do this. It came so naturally; it seemed as though it was second nature to him. But with you, it went levels deeper then just keeping a watchful eye. He needed to know everything. How you thought, how you went about your day, the things you liked and hated, the people you deemed worthy of your time and attention. He couldn’t stand not knowing absolutely everything there was to know.  

You seemed to be one topic of interest that truly intrigued him. He didn’t even really know why, possibly because of how trusting and kind you were? Or how you would never outright be malicious towards him and his friend group even when warranted. 

Sitting in Snapes class for morning potions, he couldn't seem to draw his eyes away from you, grumbling and scowling when Enzo would poke him in attempts to get his attention.  

Handing papers out with the most unsurprising scowl on his face, Snape called out in his usual monotone voice that he would be pairing groups of two together. Theodore let out a groan when Snape mentioned it would be mixed houses, while you scribbled on your notepad, not seeming to be paying any attention. Hermione went on a tiny rant about how stupid of an idea it was. You sigh and give her a look before glancing at Harry and Ron’s table to see them arguing over what quill was the others.  

“Hermione please give it up” you mumble as she gasps, “This is unbelievable! Not only are we going to be forced to work together with them, but someone is definitely going to get in a fight! Merlin knows Ron has been waiting for a chance to get back at Malfoy for what he said the other day.”  

Having heard his name, Ron turned around quickly followed by Harry, and started angrily grumbling. “’Mione's right! That bastard deserves-” Before he could go on a rant Snape hit the back of his head with a newspaper, glared at him when Ron quickly turned around, and walked to the front of the class, quickly shutting the class up with an upset clearing of his throat.  

“If you are all done complaining, I'm going to read out who is with who.” He gave the class one more once over before turning is gaze down to the list in his hands, “Weasley with Malfoy.” It seemed as though Snape had done that on purpose. Lightly laughing into your hand, you turn and glance at the livid expression Malfoy had on his face while Snape read out the other pairs. “Finnigan with Flint.”, “Thomas with Goyle.” He went on until it was only you and Mattheo left. 

“That leaves you with Riddle” Snape said pointing at you before exclaiming to the class that everyone needed to sit with their respective pairs. Harry got paired with Nott, to his dismay. Hermione got paired with a quiet Slytherin girl. Ron and Malfoy were already shoving each other when Snape would turn away, and you turned to start walking over to Mattheo’s table. He was quiet, and he kept an observant eye on you. You chalked it down to him being wary and disliking you for the house and blood differences of you both, but he never seemed exactly hostile towards you. 

“You and your partners will be brewing Felix Felicis, also known as liquid luck. Now, since this is such a challenging potion to make, it will require serious effort and teamwork.” Snape said, not really paying much attention to the class anymore, just walking to his desk and sitting down. “I expect nothing but success.” He said looking at only the Slytherin students, paying no mind at all to the Gryffindor ones.    

Malfoy let out the most dramatic sigh and Ron shot him the nastiest look he could muster while the rest of the class sort of just shared unpleasant looks and decided on acceptance. As you started grabbing your potions book from your bag you could hear Snape already scolding Ron and Malfoy. “Absolute idiots.” Hermione muttered behind you causing you to turn around and laugh. 

Mattheo sat silently watching the interaction before grabbing his own book and flipping to the page titled “Liquid Luck! Read bellow to become the luckiest person you know!”. He didn’t know why they were being allowed to brew such a precarious potion, most cases of people attempting to brew it ended in serious states of injury or bad luck. Turning towards him, you look at what page he was on before quickly turning to it and beginning to read aloud the ingredients.  

“Murtlap tentacles, Lemon, Ashwinder Eggs, Acromantula venom, Amaranth petals, and Belladonna....” Trailing off towards the end, you skimmed over the rest of the page. “This doesn’t look too difficult.” You said, glancing at him to see he was already looking at you with a charming smile. “Ah, you say that now but If I wasn’t here, this potion would’ve kicked your ass.” He said lightly laughing while you faux gasp and whack him with your quill. “Excuse me, but I'll have you know I am a great potions student, I only ever exploded a cauldron once.” You said very matter of fact like while he laughed and muttered a small “sure, sweetheart.” and began writing down the ingredients to grab.  

Walking into the great hall Hermione was boasting to you about how she figured out a new way to create the potion and how her partner wasn’t as bad as she had originally assumed she would be. “-Quite nice really, she even let me borrow her quill when mine broke. Isn’t that quite kind? Especially for a Slytherin!” She smiled and started telling Ron the same she had told you when him and Harry walked up to the both of you. “I hate to be the one to ask but can I borrow your notes?” Harry asked when he got close enough to you, flashing a silly begging face and explaining how Nott and him basically just argued the entire time and both got detention. Laughing you agreed and started digging in your bag when you both sat down at the Gryffindor table. “If I say working with Riddle wasn’t that bad, will I be hexed?” You asked jokingly and handed him the binder with all of your notes. 

“Oh definitely.” Harry said sarcastically, smiling softly and glancing at Rons unimpressed face, listening to Hermione rant. “-It just wasn’t that bad! And- you're not listening to me!” She said grabbing a cloth napkin and whacking him with it as he started curling into his lap in an attempt to protect himself. “I’m sorry!! Merlin, please stop hitting me!”  

Laughing, you avert your eyes from the scene they’re making and look around the great hall, noticing Mattheo sitting at his table with an annoyed look on his face seemingly listening to something Zabini was telling them. You didn’t really know any of them. You’ve had brief encounters with Malfoy and Parkinson but never any that left too much of a bad taste in your mouth.  

Mattheo got up seemingly done with whatever Blaise was saying, and started walking towards the great hall’s doors. You got up as well. Giving a brief goodbye to your friends and making up an excuse as to why you’re leaving in such a hurry, you started walking after him. “Hey!” You called out after him after you both were far enough away from the doors of the great hall and other prying eyes. He turned around and confusion found way on his face for a moment before pulling a beaten-up pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offering one to you.  

“Well would you look at that, what’re you doing walking around the castle, sweetheart?” He asked, lighting the cigarette in his own mouth after you had refused his offer of one. “Came to bug you of course,” You said in a fake serious tone, jumping up onto one of the windowsills in the hallway and looking out the big glass window overlooking the courtyard. “Really?” he jokingly questioned and went to sit beside you, “You know, you’re shit at potions right?” he said, staring out the window before turning and blowing smoke in the opposite direction when a beat of silence went by, “Huh?” You turned, looking at him now, “You confused your left and your right and almost cut your finger off trying to cut the Murtlap tentacles.”  

“i don’t know what you’re talking about Riddle, you must’ve been dreaming” You said dismissively, trying to keep a serious face before turning and looking at him, smiling lightly. “I’ll take your word for it.” He smirked, and laughed when you pulled a beaten up copy of “Dead Poets Society” out of your bag. “I’ve read that one.”

“Never knew you were the type to read, Riddle. You get in fights so much I'm shocked you still have the ability to read.” You joked, causing him to roll his eyes and look over at you. It was beyond odd to him to have someone so willing to talk to him, this comfortably too in opposite houses. Hell, even his own house. Being Voldemort's son didn’t make people any less scared or off put by him.  

Possibly because you didn’t truly know who he was, was why you were so openly kind to him, and having come halfway through fourth year. The few people who walked past the two of you gave dirty or worried looks but didn’t dare say anything, just simply kept walking. He thinks maybe that was when the obsession, the desire for you, truly started. Over time after that meeting, he started to get openly more aggressive for your attention, at least he knew that was what it was, to other’s he just seemed more upset, picking fights with people who’d done nothing wrong just so you could see him bloody and hurt. 

After quidditch matches he would automatically find ways to seem much worse than he was, and playing cool when you would run up to him and worry about him. He adored it. As more time went by the worse he became, going from watching you in classed to sitting outside your window when you would sleep, telling himself he was only making sure you were safe, justifying his actions to no one but himself. 

He knew your schedule by now. By the end of your night, you would always sneak your way down to the kitchen and make food. Walking to the Gryffindor common room was an easy enough task, muttering the password to the fat lady, who was too tired to even look who it was, he opened the portrait and stepped inside. It was always warmer in this common room compared to Slytherin’s. He walked over to where the fireplace was before checking his watch and moving along the side and hiding between the wall and a pillar, waiting for you to come down. You slowly walked down the dormitory stairs down to the main common a few minutes later before grabbing a blanket, wrapping it around yourself, and moving to leave the Gryffindor common room. 

As you walked down the stairs to the kitchens, he stayed in place of the shadows near the pillar of the fireplace and waited. The minutes ticked by before he went up the opposite stairs to the girls’ dormitories. He knew he should've gone back to his own dorm, that it was stupid to go to up to your room this late at night, and that the possibilities of getting caught were higher than he would’ve liked if he was thinking clearly, but he needed to see it. Where you slept, got dressed, and kept everything that was dear to you. 

He wandered around before finding his way to the room he knew was yours. Opening the door as quietly as he could manage, he made his way inside and saw your bed first. Slowly glancing around the room, he noticed pictures that were pinned to the wall near your bed with little thumbtacks, all the books sprawled around your room and a pile of laundry that was near the end of your bed. He felt disgusted with himself when he bent down to grab a pretty lace undergarment and stuffed it in his pocket, but not enough to not grab more of your belongings and pocket those as well.  

He felt strange, as if every time he would see something else that just simply screamed you, he couldn’t breathe. He laid down on your bed, slightly turning his head to smell your pillow and he was gone. Where he went exactly isn’t clear, even to him, but he just seemed to had disappeared for the moments he was breathing in your scent. 

You had no idea what was going on way up in the castle walls where you slept each night, completely unaware as you grabbed cheese from the fridge and conversed with the sweet house elf that ran the kitchens. Her name was Romney, she never had an issue with you coming down so late to sneak food, she enjoyed the company. As the minutes ticked by, you finally bid farewell to her and started making your way quietly back up to the Gryffindor common room. Mattheo knew his time was limited, but he couldn’t for the life of him seem to get up, breathing more and more heavily as he grabbed a polaroid you had sitting on your end table of you at the black lake, smiling and holding up “The Godfather” to show the camera. He felt content for the first time in his life as he looked at that polaroid and laid on your bed. The unhealthy obsession that had started bubbling in his soul the moment he first saw you felt like it was overflowing, gushing about him until all he could think about was how he was going to be the one to make you smile, and laugh, and feel like you've been lit on fire. 

You made your way up the castle stairs, ducking behind corners and quickly casting Lumos spells on and off when the portraits would make movements indicating they were waking up. The time was later than you had expected, having been in the kitchens a lot longer than you originally anticipated. Yawning, you finally made it back to the portrait of the fat lady and entered the Gryffindor common room. Mattheo knew it was time to go. Begrudgingly, he got up off your bed and started straight toward your window, leaving out of it just as you enter the room.

The window was left open and you were left with a sickening feeling like someone was there.