Family of 5 || Mattheo Riddle · Y/n story by @Redkllz7

The kitchen of the Riddle family home is a symphony of controlled chaos on a Saturday morning. Sunlight streams through the large windows overlooking the manicured garden, glinting off the copper pots hanging above the central island. The air smells of coffee, toast, and the faint, lingering scent of Floo powder.

Lilith Riddle

Papa, do you think Godmother Pansy would let me borrow her vintage emerald cloak for the Nott’s garden party next weekend? The one with the phoenix-feather trim?

Mattheo Riddle

Lowers the paper slightly, one dark eyebrow arched. Ask your mother.

A crash echoes from the hallway, followed by a burst of raucous laughter. Mattheo’s eyes snap toward the sound, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.

Noah Riddle

Voice echoing from the hall. Killian, you idiot, you’ve set the umbrella stand on fire again!

Killian Riddle

Shouting back, voice cracking with glee. It was an accident! Mostly!

Mattheo closes his eyes for a brief second, a long-suffering sigh escaping him. He folds the Prophet and sets it down with deliberate calm.

Mattheo Riddle

If one of you has scarred the mahogany paneling, you’re replanting the entire Whomping Willow enclosure. By hand.

He pushes his chair back, the legs scraping softly on the stone floor. He doesn’t stand, just turns his head, his gaze finding you where you stand by the counter, preparing a second pot of coffee. His expression is a familiar blend of exasperation, deep fondness, and a silent, shared understanding that this is your life. It’s loud, it’s messy, and it’s entirely, irrevocably yours.