He Never Stopped Asking · Y/n story by @ellss

The stone corridor outside the Charms classroom is cool and dim, lit only by the flickering torches in their iron sconces. The air smells of damp wool and old parchment, and the distant echo of students heading to the Great Hall for dinner drifts down the hall.

Mattheo Riddle

So.

He says it like a punctuation mark, like the start of a well-worn script. He pushes off the wall, just enough to tilt his head toward you.

Mattheo Riddle

Dinner tonight?

From behind him, leaning against the opposite wall with a book held up to his face, Theodore Nott lets out a quiet, derisive snort.

Theodore Nott

You're actually insane.

Mattheo Riddle

without looking away from you Shut up.

His gaze doesn't waver. It's the same question he's asked, in some variation, for months. In the library, in the courtyard, after Quidditch matches. Always delivered with that same lazy confidence, as if the answer doesn't matter.