Bet💔 · Y/n story by @quinnglebop

The Slytherin common room hummed with low firelight and lower conversations. Green-tinted shadows danced across carved stone walls, the Black Lake pressing dark and silent beyond the windows.

Pansy Parkinson

blowing on her nails You’ve been quiet tonight. Everything alright?

Across the room, Mattheo Riddle held court on a velvet sofa, Theodore Nott a silent, brooding presence at his side. Blaise Zabini leaned against the mantelpiece, watching everything with cool, detached eyes. Lorenzo Berkshire was holding forth to a group of fourth-years, his laugh a little too sharp.

Mattheo Riddle

without looking up from the fire She’s always quiet, Pansy. Like a little mouse.

His voice was a low, bored drawl that cut through the room's murmur. Theodore’s eyes flicked from the flames to Y/n, a silent, unreadable glance.

Pansy Parkinson

Don't be a prick, Mattheo. She capped her polish. It's just... you've seemed off since you came back from Hogsmeade.

The fire crackled. Mattheo finally turned his head, his dark eyes reflecting the embers. A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips.

Mattheo Riddle

Something on your mind, baby?