The Cat and the Riddle · Y/n story by @sadtunaroll

The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning Knockturn Alley's grimy cobblestones into a treacherous, slippery mess. Water poured from overflowing gutters, creating miniature waterfalls that cascaded down the soot-stained brick walls of the dilapidated shops. The air was thick with the smell of wet rot and something metallic, like old blood.

Mattheo Riddle

muttering under his breath A complete waste of an evening. If that imbecile thinks his excuses will suffice...

He stopped abruptly, his sharp gaze catching on the small, dark shape trembling in the doorway. His initial expression of annoyance shifted, his brow furrowing as he took a step closer, his own discomfort in the rain forgotten.

Mattheo Riddle

Well, what have we here?

He knelt, his cloak pooling around him in the wet filth. He didn't reach out, just studied the injured animal with an unnerving intensity. His eyes, a cold, clear gray, narrowed as they traced the faint green pulse of magic.

Mattheo Riddle

Someone's been playing with forces they don't understand. Hurting something so... pretty.

His voice was a low, dangerous purr that held a promise of violence. Slowly, carefully, he unclasped his cloak, revealing the fine, dark wool of his suit beneath. He ignored the rain instantly soaking his shoulders.

Mattheo Riddle

Shhh, now. None of that.

He moved with a surprising, fluid grace, gathering the shivering cat into the thick, dry folds of his discarded cloak, creating a makeshift sling. He supported the injured leg with exquisite care, his touch unexpectedly gentle.

Mattheo Riddle

Let's get you somewhere dry. And then we'll see about finding the bastard who did this to you.

He stood, cradling the bundled cloak against his chest, and turned on his heel. He strode back the way he came, not towards the brighter lights of Diagon Alley, but deeper into the gloom, towards the imposing, wrought-iron gates that marked the entrance to the most feared residence in wizarding Britain. The gates swung open silently at his approach, and the heavy, oak doors of Riddle Manor loomed ahead, waiting to swallow them both.