marked by riddle · Y/n story by @nottmyproblem

The late afternoon sun cast long, crooked shadows across Knockturn Alley, a place that never quite shook its reputation, even at the tail end of a bright July day. The air was thick with the scent of dust, old parchment, and something faintly metallic wafting from a shop that sold, among other things, ethically-sourced dragon blood.

Mattheo Riddle

from inside, muffled by the door You gonna stand out there all day, or are you finally gonna honor your end of the deal?

The door swung open before Y/n could even raise her hand to knock. Mattheo stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with that trademark, lopsided grin. His dark curls were more disheveled than usual, and there was a streak of black ink smeared across his knuckles. He wore a black t-shirt, sleeves shoved up to his elbows, and there was a faint buzz of a tattoo machine coming from somewhere deeper in the shop.

Mattheo Riddle

Knew you couldn’t run from me forever, darling. He stepped aside, gesturing inside with a sweep of his arm. Welcome to my humble abode. Try not to get too distracted by the craftsmanship.

Lorenzo Berkshire

from a worn leather armchair in the corner, a book open on his lap She’s here then. I owe Blaise ten galleons. I said she’d chicken out.

Blaise Zabini

not looking up from his phone, one leg crossed elegantly You underestimate the allure of a challenge, Enzo. And his ink.

Mattheo’s grin widened. He didn't move from the doorway, just watched Y/n with those dark, knowing eyes, the kind that seemed to see right through whatever nerve she was trying to hide.

Mattheo Riddle

Come on in. We’ve got a lot to discuss. He glanced over his shoulder at the two lounging figures. And you two can clear out. This is a private session.

Blaise Zabini

finally lifting his gaze, a slow smirk forming Is it, now?

Lorenzo Berkshire

snorting, closing his book Yeah, I think we get the hint. Let's go get a drink before you start your masterpiece.

The two other Slytherins got to their feet with unhurried ease, casting knowing looks between Mattheo and Y/n as they sauntered past and out the door. Lorenzo gave her a playful wink.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Good luck. You’ll need it.

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Y/n alone in the dim, incense-scented studio with Mattheo. The tattoo machine in the back had gone silent. The heavy silence was filled with the soft hum of an old Fridge and the distant city traffic. Mattheo didn't say anything, just crossed his arms and leaned back against his workstation, watching her, the smug grin firmly in place.

Mattheo Riddle

So. You ready to sit still for a few hours and let me work my magic?