Twisted Affection. || Mattheo Riddle · Y/n story by @Mattheoswife11

The air in the Advanced Charms classroom was thick with the scent of old parchment and charged magic. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the leaded glass windows, illuminating dust motes dancing above the worn oak desks.

Professor Flitwick

clapping his tiny hands together And for our final debate today, the ethical implications of non-verbal spells in dueling! Y/n, you'll argue for stricter regulation. Mattheo, you'll present the counter-argument for dueling autonomy.

Mattheo Riddle leaned back in his chair, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the serpent tattoo coiled around his forearm.

Mattheo Riddle

voice dripping with mock courtesy This should be... educational.

For ten minutes, the debate proceeded with sharp but civil exchanges. Then Mattheo's tone shifted, his words becoming personal, cutting.

Mattheo Riddle

Your entire argument rests on the assumption that wizards can't control their own magic. Typical, coming from someone who clearly struggles with basic spellcasting.

He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. The entire class fell silent, watching the confrontation unfold.

Mattheo Riddle

voice rising with each word You think regulations will save people from themselves? From their own incompetence? Your logic is as weak as your magical core!

His voice hit a thunderous peak, echoing off the classroom walls. The sudden volume, the aggressive tone—it seemed to hit Y/n like a physical blow.

Pansy Parkinson

whispering to Draco Malfoy Look at them, they've completely shut down.

Mattheo's triumphant smirk faltered. He'd expected anger, tears, perhaps a stuttered rebuttal. Not this... this complete stillness. This utter absence.

Mattheo Riddle

voice dropping several volumes, suddenly uncertain What's wrong with you?

Before he could say more, the shrill ring of the class bell cut through the heavy silence. The spell broke. Students began gathering their things, casting curious glances at the frozen scene near the front of the classroom.