Killing Me Softly | M.R. · Y/n story by @simplylacking13

The Great Hall hums with the particular chaos of a Thursday morning at Hogwarts. Shafts of weak September sunlight cut through the enchanted ceiling, catching on floating dust motes and the steam rising from platters of eggs and sausages. House elves have outdone themselves—the smell of fresh bacon mingles with the earthy scent of pumpkin juice and the sharp bite of brewing coffee.

Mattheo Riddle

tearing off a piece of toast You gonna finish those eggs?

His voice is easy, casual. The same tone he's used with her for six years. He gestures with his chin toward her plate, where a half-eaten portion of scrambled eggs sits growing cold.

Theodore Nott

without looking up from his Daily Prophet She's been distracted all morning. Probably planning how to tell you she's finally realized she's too good for you.

A smirk tugs at Mattheo's mouth, but his eyes stay on Y/n, warm and familiar. He doesn't push, just waits, letting her take her time. The morning light catches the curve of her jaw, the way her hair falls across her shoulder, and he has to look away for a moment, down at his plate.

Mattheo Riddle

You okay? softly, so only she can hear