Mattheo Riddle has spent years being the cool dad. The one who lets his daughter, Isla, and her friends hang out at the house, throws money at pizza nights, pretends not to notice the empty vodka bottles after parties, and figures they’re all eighteen now—old enough to make their own dumb decisions. Then there’s Y/N. She’s been Isla’s best friend since they were kids. Somewhere along the way, that familiar dynamic starts feeling… different. Mattheo catches himself noticing things he shouldn’t. A laugh that lingers too long in his head. Looking up when she walks into a room. Wondering why he suddenly cares if she’s coming over. The realization hits him like a truck—and disgusts him. He knows it’s wrong. Doesn’t matter that she’s only eighteen. Doesn’t matter what excuses his brain tries to throw at him. She’s his daughter’s best friend. Someone he watched grow up. That’s a line that should never be crossed. Little does Mattheo know. Y/N feels the same.
Mattheo Riddle arrives at Hogwarts halfway through seventh year, already carrying a reputation heavy enough to suffocate a room. Everyone knows the name. Everyone’s heard the whispers. Rich. Dangerous. Brilliant. The kind of guy who smiles while threatening someone and somehow makes it look charming. The only people who treat him normally are the Slytherin boys. Draco, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo, they’ve known him since they were kids. Summer holidays spent at pure-blood estates, illegal broom races, family dinners where politics were discussed over expensive whiskey while the boys snuck cigarettes out the window. So when Mattheo transfers in, the boys practically drag him into the Slytherin common room like he’s finally come home. The room is loud as hell. Music blasting from an enchanted speaker. People passing around joints. Someone’s losing a drinking game. A couple is making out shamelessly against the fireplace. Typical fucking Friday night. Mattheo barely notices any of it. Because she’s there. Y/N. She laughs at something Pansy says. And that’s it. Game fucking over. She has absolutely no idea she’s just destroyed the emotional stability of one of the most emotionally unavailable men alive. Maybe love at first sight is real. Or maybe it’s something even more dangerous. An obsession that begins with a single glance… and refuses to let go.
Y/N and Mattheo Riddle have always been… something. Not best friends. Not enemies. Not secretly pining since they were twelve. They’re simply two people who happen to run in the same Slytherin circles. They talk sometimes. They joke sometimes. They sit near each other at parties. They occasionally smoke together outside the castle. Nobody thinks they’re going to get together. Honestly? Neither do they. And that’s exactly what makes everything so fucking complicated. Because somewhere along the way, without either of them noticing, they become interlinked. Their moods affect each other. Their attention gravitates toward each other. Their jealousy appears before their feelings do. And neither of them has the slightest clue why. something changes. Not dramatically. Just… slightly. Mattheo starts noticing Y/N more. She’s walking through the corridor? He notices. She’s laughing with Theodore? He notices. She’s leaning against a wall talking to some Gryffindor boy? Oh, suddenly Mattheo has somewhere else to be. Except he doesn’t. He walks right past them. Slowly. Casually. Like he absolutely isn’t listening to every fucking word. Y/N starts doing the same. Mattheo flirting with someone? She suddenly becomes fascinated by the portraits. Mattheo laughing with another girl? Suddenly she’s got somewhere to go. Mattheo catches her staring once. Their eyes meet. Neither looks away immediately. There’s a tiny pause. Then Y/N rolls her eyes. Mattheo smirks. And they continue walking. Neither understands what just happened. Their jealousy gets worse. But because they’re not together, they both feel ridiculous for being jealous. Y/N catches herself thinking: Why the fuck do I care who he talks to? Mattheo thinks: Why the hell am I pissed off about some random bloke making her laugh? They both come to the same conclusion: They don’t care. Except they obviously fucking do. At parties, they’ll end up on opposite sides of the room.
For years, the boys of Slytherin had been dropping like flies. First, Theo got caught sneaking out after curfew with some Ravenclaw girl. Then Blaise somehow had three different girls convinced they were exclusive. Even Draco—dramatic, high-maintenance Draco—managed to land himself a girlfriend. Mattheo Riddle? Nothing. Not because he couldn’t. Because he genuinely didn’t fucking care. Every girl felt… the same. Too loud. Too fake. Too obsessed with the fact that he was a Riddle. They wanted the reputation, the thrill, the danger—not him. He’d entertained flirting a handful of times, kissed a few girls at parties, but it never lasted longer than a week before he got bored. Whenever Theo asked why he was still single, Mattheo would shrug. “None of them are my type.” It became a running joke in the Slytherin common room. “Mate, your type doesn’t exist.” Mattheo honestly started believing it. Until she transferred. Y/N arrived halfway through the school year, and the first thing Mattheo noticed wasn’t that she was gorgeous. It was that she looked completely unimpressed by everyone. She ignored the whispers. Ignored the staring. Ignored the pureblood politics. Ignored Mattheo Riddle. That alone was enough to make him look twice. She wasn’t clingy. Wasn’t intimidated. Didn’t laugh at Mattheo’s jokes just because he was attractive. Half the time she’d roll her eyes and tell him to shut the fuck up. And for some reason… He loved it. The more she treated him like a normal person instead of the infamous “Slytherin prince,” the harder he fell. It drove him insane. Mattheo Riddle—who had spent years convinced no girl at Hogwarts could ever catch his attention—was now lying awake at three in the morning because Y/N had smiled at him after he handed her a coffee. One smile. That’s all it fucking took.
Everyone at Hogwarts called Mattheo Riddle the Slytherin Prince. Not because he wanted the title. Not because he asked for it. But because people lowered their voices when he entered rooms. Because professors watched him carefully. Because Slytherins followed him without being told. Because his last name carried history and danger in equal measure. Mattheo liked certainty. Dreams were not certainty. It started with darkness. Not nightmares—not exactly. Just endless black and the feeling that someone else was there. Then he heard it. A girl’s voice. Soft. Distant. Whispering his name. Mattheo. He would wake immediately after, heart racing for reasons he couldn’t explain. Night after night it returned. Always darkness. Always her voice. Sometimes she laughed quietly. Sometimes she sounded sad. Sometimes she whispered in a language he didn’t recognize—smooth and strange, syllables flowing together like water. He couldn’t understand a single word, but somehow hearing it felt familiar. Like remembering something that never happened. Weeks passed. The dreams changed. Darkness became shapes. A hand brushing against his sleeve. Long hair moving in nonexistent wind. A silhouette sitting beside him beneath a tree he didn’t know. Every dream revealed a little more. He never saw her face. Until one night— He did. She stood in silver fog. A look on her face like she knew him. Not knew of him. Knew him. She stepped closer. Lifted her hand. Touched his jaw. And whispered something in that impossible language. He asked— “Who are you?” She smiled. No answer. Then she disappeared. After that, the dreams became impossible to ignore. Conversations. Walking through corridors he’d never seen. Sitting together in silence. Her laughing at things he never remembered saying. Like they were remembering moments they’d already lived. And every dream ended the same way— She’d move closer. Look at him. Whisper words he couldn’t understand. He’d
Mattheo Riddle doesn’t do chasing. Girls chase him. They flirt, they beg for his attention, they throw themselves at his feet—but none of them ever make him feel the way y/n does. She’s different. She’s the only girl who looks him dead in the eyes when he says something cocky and replies, “You’re actually insufferable.” The only one who steals his cigarettes just to piss him off. The only one who doesn’t care that he’s Voldemort’s son or that half the school is terrified of him. And that’s exactly why he can’t get her out of his head Mattheo, the infamous heartbreaker, suddenly showing up wherever y/n is? Sitting beside her in class without asking? Saving her a seat in the common room? Picking fights with boys who so much as glance at her? He’s down horrendous.
The final whistle blew. And the entire Slytherin section went fucking silent. Gryffindor had won. Not barely. Not by some lucky bullshit technicality. They had absolutely destroyed Slytherin. Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Lorenzo Berkshire and Blaise Zabini landed on the pitch looking like they had just witnessed the collapse of civilization. Their uniforms were dirty, their hair was wrecked, and their faces were pure, murderous embarrassment. The girls knew the boys better than anyone. After a loss like this, there were several possible outcomes. They could yell at each other. They could yell at the girls. They could destroy half the common room. They could get absolutely shit-faced. They could disappear for six hours and return smelling like smoke and bad decisions. Or—most likely—they could do all of the above. By the time everyone made it back to the Slytherin common room, the atmosphere was fucking radioactive. Meanwhile, the girls stood together near the staircase, watching the disaster unfold. Then came the alcohol. Because apparently the solution to losing a Quidditch match was to drink enough that nobody remembered the match existed. Slytherin might have lost the match. But apparently, they were about to win the championship for biggest fucking disaster in Hogwarts history.
Mattheo Riddle and Y/N are Hogwarts’ worst-kept secret. They’re never officially together. Never officially over. Every few months, they have some explosive argument that ends with screaming across the common room, broken glasses at Slytherin parties, blocked owls, and promises that this time they’re done for good. Then, somehow… They’re right back where they started. Everyone in Slytherin has stopped asking if they’re dating. Instead, they ask, “So… what are they fighting about this week?” Mattheo genuinely tries to move on. He goes on dates, flirts at parties, lets girls sit on his lap just to prove he’s finally over her. It never lasts. Not because the other girls aren’t beautiful. Because they’re not her. Y/N is a walking disaster wrapped in designer robes and expensive perfume. She’s breathtakingly vain, painfully proud, unbelievably competitive, and so jealous it’s almost pathological. She can’t stand rejection. She has to win every argument, every rivalry, every breakup. Especially the breakups. The second she hears Mattheo is talking to someone else, it’s like a switch flips. She suddenly “accidentally” runs into him in the corridors. Laughs louder when he’s nearby. Starts wearing the necklace he once bought her. Whispers things only he would understand. She knows exactly how to get under his skin. And the worst part? It works. Every. Single. Time. Their friends have started betting on how long Mattheo’s newest situationship will survive. Theo says three days. Lorenzo gives it a week. Draco doesn’t even bother learning the girls’ names anymore. Because eventually Mattheo always walks back into the Slytherin common room looking irritated with himself… …and Y/N is already sitting in his usual chair with the smuggest smile imaginable. She never chases him. She doesn’t have to. She knows him better than anyone. She knows exactly which buttons to press, which memories to bring up, when to ignore him, when to look at him for half a
Six months ago, Mattheo Riddle and Y/N were the couple everyone thought would either get married or kill each other first. They loved hard. Fought harder. They were the type to scream at each other in the Astronomy Tower at 2 a.m., then be caught sneaking cigarettes behind the greenhouses twenty minutes later like nothing happened. It was messy, obsessive, and completely fucking unhealthy. Eventually… it exploded. Now they’re strangers. Well… strangers who still know each other’s coffee order, still instinctively look for each other in the Great Hall, and still freeze whenever the other laughs with someone else. Mattheo did what everyone expected him to do—he moved on. He’s dating Pansy Parkinson now. On the surface, they’re perfect together. Rich. Popular. Always drunk at parties. Always matching black outfits. Pansy genuinely likes him, and Mattheo keeps trying to convince himself that if he says “I love you” enough, one day it’ll actually feel true. It doesn’t. Every time he sees Y/N laughing with Theo or dancing with strangers at a party, something ugly twists in his chest. Meanwhile, Y/N is just… surviving. She buries herself in classes, cigarettes, late-night drives, and pretending she’s over him. She deletes his number at least four times before memorizing it again. Everyone tells her to move on. She wishes it were that fucking easy. One lonely night after too much alcohol and an even worse day, she finally cracks. It’s nearly three in the morning. Without thinking, she calls the one number she swore she’d never dial again. Across the castle, Mattheo is asleep beside Pansy. His phone vibrates. One look at the screen— Y/N. His heart practically stops. He should decline it. He doesn’t.
At Hogwarts, there are two groups nobody dares fuck with. The Elite Slytherins—Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, and Y/N—are basically Hogwarts royalty. They have the money, the connections, the attitude, and absolutely zero patience for anyone who gets in their way. Then there are the Elite Gryffindors—Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Fred and George Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and a few other top Gryffindors who have somehow become just as infamous. And the two groups fucking hate each other. It’s not the cute, childish Slytherin-versus-Gryffindor rivalry anymore. It’s personal. The rivalry turns into an unofficial competition. Who can throw the best parties? Who can get the highest grades? Who can win Quidditch? Who can pull the biggest crowd? Who can get away with breaking the most rules? Who can make the other house lose their fucking minds first? Every week becomes another battle. Slytherin hosts a party? Gryffindor crashes it. Gryffindor wins a Quidditch match? Slytherin throws a party specifically to piss them off. Hermione and Draco are constantly arguing over grades. Pansy and Ginny exchange insults like they’re professional assassins. Ron and Blaise nearly come to blows every time they drink together. Fred and George keep pulling pranks on the Slytherins, only for Lorenzo and Theodore to retaliate with increasingly unhinged revenge. And Mattheo? Mattheo has developed a particularly intense hatred for Harry.
At Hogwarts, there is one group that rules the castle more completely than any professor, prefect, or Quidditch captain ever could. They are known as The Slytherin Plastics. At the center sits y/n, Hogwarts’ golden girl. Beautiful, wealthy, adored, and absolutely terrifying when crossed. Every trend starts with her. Every rumor passes through her. Every student secretly wants to be her—or replace her. At her side are: * Pansy Parkinson — her fiercely loyal second-in-command who knows every secret in the castle and spreads them with a smile. * Daphne Greengrass — gorgeous, sweet, and often hilariously oblivious to the chaos around her. * Astoria Greengrass — the newest member, younger than the others and still learning the rules of surviving among Hogwarts’ elite. Together, they dominate Slytherin House. And everyone knows the rules. You don’t sit with them unless invited. You don’t wear the same outfit as Aphrodite. You don’t date someone one of them wants. And you never, ever betray the group. ⸻ The Couples The Plastics aren’t just powerful—they’re connected to the most feared boys in Hogwarts. * Y/N and Mattheo Riddle are Hogwarts’ most intimidating power couple. Their relationship is passionate, possessive, and filled with dramatic fights that leave the entire school talking for weeks. * Pansy dates Blaise Zabini, who constantly claims he wants no part in the girls’ drama but somehow always ends up involved. * Daphne is with Theodore Nott, whose quiet nature somehow balances her chaotic energy. * Astoria begins dating Draco Malfoy, making her an instant target for attention throughout the castle.
The Slytherin elite had one unspoken rule: no matter what happened, the seven of them stayed together. Until one night, they didn’t. After weeks of simmering tension, whispered accusations, and loyalty being questioned behind closed doors, everything finally detonates during an after-hours party in the Slytherin common room. Bottles are smashed, music is shaking the dungeon walls, smoke hangs thick in the air, and everyone’s already tipsy when Theodore Nott says the one thing he can’t take back. Mattheo Riddle snaps. What starts as shoving turns into an all-out brawl. They’re throwing fists with years of friendship behind every punch. Tables are flipped. Glass explodes across the stone floor. Blood stains white shirts. Theodore lands a few solid hits, splitting Mattheo’s lip and blackening one eye—but Mattheo fights like he’s possessed. He slams Theo into a marble pillar, drives him to the floor, and refuses to stop until Draco, Lorenzo, and Blaise physically drag him off. Theo lies there coughing blood, one eye already swelling shut. Mattheo wins. Silence falls over the room. Theodore slowly spits blood onto the floor. Mattheo wipes the blood from his mouth and laughs bitterly. Just like that… years of friendship end in a single sentence. By morning, the Slytherin elite has completely fractured. Without hesitation, Y/N, Draco, and Pansy choose Mattheo. They’re furious with Theodore for crossing a line none of them can forgive. Whatever secret or betrayal sparked the fight, they believe Theo pushed Mattheo too far. They’re done pretending the damage can be fixed. Across the common room, Blaise, Lorenzo, and Daphne stand beside Theodore. To them, Mattheo went too fucking far. Winning the fight wasn’t the problem—it was the way he kept going after Theo was already beaten. They refuse to defend someone who loses control like that. The common room transforms into a battlefield without anyone throwing another punch. Breakfast becomes strategic seating.
This one’s all tension, bad decisions, and that awful feeling of wanting the exact person you should run from. At Hogwarts, everyone acts like the war hasn’t started yet. But it has. People just wear uniforms instead of armor. Mattheo Riddle walks through the halls like he already knows how his story ends. Pure-blood circles. Late-night meetings nobody talks about. Whispers about loyalty and blood and power. The professors ignore it because they always ignore it until it’s too late. Everyone knows what he’s becoming. A Death Eater. Not now. Not officially. But destiny has already written his name in ugly ink. Y/N grew up on the opposite side of that future. Raised by people who taught her that evil doesn’t always look monstrous—sometimes it looks charming. Funny. Beautiful. Sometimes it smiles at you and opens doors and remembers how you take your tea. She was always told: If you ever meet someone like him, don’t hesitate. So naturally… She falls for him He thinks she’s self-righteous. She thinks he’s arrogant, dangerous, and one bad day away from becoming everything she hates. Then she catches him doing things that don’t fit. Helping a first-year when nobody’s looking. Staying behind after a duel because someone got hurt. Looking… guilty after his father’s name comes up. And suddenly she starts noticing impossible things. The way his jokes get meaner whenever conversations get too serious. The way he watches people leave like he expects everyone eventually will. The way he never talks about the future. And she realizes something terrifying— Mattheo doesn’t seem excited for the life waiting for him. He seems trapped by it. That should make it easier. It doesn’t They start meeting in secret—not because they’re forbidden lovers in some cute dramatic way, but because neither side would forgive it. Her friends think she’s losing her mind. His friends think she’s playing him. Then she finally gets proof. He’s accepted it. He’s going to j
Mattheo Riddle never understood love. Love was weakness. A distraction. A disease that made people stupid. Then he met her. Not because she was the prettiest girl at Hogwarts. Not because she was powerful. Not because she wanted him. It was because she looked at him without fear. The first time she told him to leave her alone, he spent three days wondering why he couldn’t stop thinking about her. The second time she rejected him, he learned her schedule. The third time, he knew every class she attended, every friend she had, every place she hid when she wanted to be alone. By Christmas, Mattheo knew her better than she knew herself. And she had absolutely no idea. At first. ⸻ Things begin small. A bully who insults her mysteriously ends up in the hospital wing. Someone steals her notes and they’re returned the next morning with an apology written in blood-red ink. Whenever she’s scared, somehow Mattheo appears. Always. Like he knows. Because he does. He’s watching. Constantly. The realization should terrify her. And it does. Until she notices something worse. She’s beginning to look for him too. ⸻ The deeper she falls into Mattheo’s orbit, the more unstable he becomes. His possessiveness grows vicious. He hates when people touch her. He hates when they make her laugh. He hates when they look at her for too long. Every person in her life becomes a threat. Every threat becomes a target. And Mattheo removes targets. Without hesitation. Without remorse. ⸻ His entire life has become a shrine dedicated to one person. Her. When she confronts him, expecting denial— He simply smiles. And says: “I never lied to you.” “You became my favorite thing before I even knew your name.” ⸻ when a powerful wizarding family attempts to arrange her engagement to someone else. Mattheo doesn’t negotiate. Doesn’t reason. Doesn’t compromise. He starts a war. Purely because someone dared to think they could take her away. Friends turn into en
The Slytherin elite rule Hogwarts. Teachers fear them. Students gossip about them. Everyone wants to be invited to their secret parties hidden throughout the castle and abandoned pure-blood estates during holidays. To outsiders they seem untouchable—beautiful, wealthy, powerful. But behind closed doors, they’re destroying each other. Every weekend is another party filled with stolen Firewhisky, dangerous dares, hookups, betrayals, and secrets nobody wants exposed. Pansy and Daphne secretly despise one another despite pretending to be best friends. Mattheo and Lorenzo are constantly fighting over girls, attention, and old grudges. Draco and Theodore have been quietly competing for leadership of the group for years. Blaise sits in the middle, collecting everyone’s secrets and using them when necessary. The group survives because nobody can afford to leave. They know too much about each other.
Mattheo Riddle and Pansy Parkinson are that Slytherin couple. They’re toxic as hell, always fighting, always making up. One minute they’re screaming at each other in the common room, the next they’re making out against the dungeon walls like nothing happened. Everyone knows they’re bad for each other, but neither of them can seem to walk away. Y/N has always stayed out of it. She’s friendly with both of them, keeps her head down, and has absolutely zero interest in becoming another chapter in their messy relationship. Then comes the biggest Slytherin party of the year. The music is deafening, bottles are everywhere, people are smoking by the windows, someone’s setting off illegal enchanted fireworks inside the common room, and everyone is absolutely plastered. Pansy takes it way too far. By midnight she’s barely conscious—slurring every sentence, laughing one second and crying the next before she completely throws up on Mattheo’s shoes. He’s pissed. Not because she’s drunk… because he’s done cleaning up after her. Y/N, being one of the only sober-ish people left, helps him carry Pansy back to the girls’ dorms. The entire walk is awkward. Pansy’s practically hanging between them while mumbling nonsense about how Mattheo’s “the hottest asshole alive.” Once they finally get her into bed, Pansy immediately passes out. Silence. Then the truth comes out.
The Dark Lord had expected his newest recruits to be terrifying. They were eighteen. They came from the most influential pure-blood families in Britain. They were ambitious, ruthless, talented, and—according to their parents—mature enough to serve the cause. Unfortunately, nobody had bothered to check whether they were actually capable of behaving like adults. The elite Slytherin friend group—Mattheo Riddle, Y/N, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Astoria Greengrass—had officially become Death Eaters. And within approximately three missions, everyone was beginning to question that decision. Mattheo & Y/N Mattheo and Y/N are the group’s biggest problem and simultaneously its most functional pair. They bicker constantly. They shove each other. They insult one another during missions. They “fake flirt” with eachother. But they’re also the first two to notice when something is genuinely wrong. If Y/N gets hurt, Mattheo immediately stops joking. If Mattheo gets injured, Y/N becomes terrifyingly calm. Everyone notices. Neither of them admits it. The others absolutely take advantage of this. Draco & Blaise Draco desperately wants to be taken seriously as a Death Eater. Blaise desperately wants Draco to stop taking everything so seriously. Draco will be giving an intense speech about loyalty and duty while Blaise is behind him mimicking his voice. They argue constantly. Yet they’re inseparable. Draco is the one who notices when Blaise hasn’t eaten. Blaise is the one who fixes Draco’s robes after a fight. They’ll insult each other for six hours straight and then casually sit beside each other at the end of the night like nothing happened. Theodore & Lorenzo These two are the designated idiots. Nobody knows how they keep surviving. Theodore is sarcastic, permanently tired, and has mastered the art of looking completely unimpressed while chaos unfolds around him. Lorenzo actively
After a string of incidents involving students harming themselves, abusing substances, violent outbursts, panic attacks, breakdowns, and magical accidents caused by emotional instability, Hogwarts introduces a controversial new program called The Circle. Every student identified by staff as struggling with “mental illness, emotional instability, behavioral issues, trauma, or other personal difficulties” is required to attend. Once a week. One hour. No excuses. The room is supposed to be a safe space. It absolutely isn’t. Y/N arrives at Hogwarts halfway through the school year. She’s immediately labeled a problem. because she’s loud. because she’s violent. because she’s completely fucking unpredictable. She’s clever, sarcastic, emotionally detached, and has an unnerving habit of laughing at inappropriate moments. She doesn’t trust authority. She doesn’t trust healers. She definitely doesn’t trust professors. And she sure as hell doesn’t believe talking about her feelings is going to magically fix anything. Then there’s Mattheo. Everyone already knows him. Tom Riddle’s son. Slytherin’s resident fucking nightmare. He’s intelligent, charismatic, violent, reckless, and possesses the kind of smile that makes people wonder whether they’re about to get kissed or murdered. Usually both options feel equally possible. Mattheo has been attending The Circle since it began. He doesn’t participate. He sits in the back. Smoking when professors aren’t looking. Making inappropriate comments. Laughing during serious conversations. Occasionally threatening people. Sometimes he doesn’t say a single word for the entire hour. And somehow, that’s worse. The staff have spent months trying to figure out what makes him tick. They’ve gotten nowhere. Mattheo thinks therapy is bullshit. He thinks people are bullshit. And most importantly— he thinks everyone eventually leaves. So he makes sure he doesn’t care about anyone first. The group is supposed to work
Mattheo Riddle has a reputation that follows him like smoke. The Slytherin Prince. Rich. Dangerous. Arrogant. The kind of guy professors sigh about, parents warn their daughters about, and half the school secretly wants. He drinks too much at parties, skips classes he finds boring, gets into fights, and somehow still walks away with a smug grin and barely a detention. Everyone knows not to fall for him. Everyone except Y/N. Not because she likes him. Because she barely notices him at all. Y/N is the complete opposite of Mattheo. Sweet without being naïve. Brilliant in class. Kind to everyone—from first-years to house-elves. She’s the girl professors adore and the one everyone trusts. She’s beautiful without trying, always smiling, always helping someone… and completely, unbelievably oblivious when boys flirt with her. A Ravenclaw offers to carry her books? “Oh, he’s just really helpful.” A Hufflepuff brings her flowers every Friday? “He must have bought too many.” A Gryffindor asks her to watch the sunset alone? “He probably just likes sunsets.” The entire school watches these boys practically throw themselves at her while she innocently thanks them for “being nice.” Mattheo thinks it’s hilarious. Until he becomes one of them. It starts as entertainment. Watching her accidentally reject boys without even realizing it becomes his favorite pastime. Theodore, Draco, and the rest of the Slytherin crowd make bets on how long it’ll take before she notices someone is flirting. She never does. Then one day Mattheo casually compliments her hair. She smiles. “Aw, thanks! Pansy braided it.” No realization. Nothing. He stares after her in disbelief while Theo nearly falls over laughing. So he tries again. He steals the seat beside her in Potions. Walks her to class. Leaves expensive chocolates on her desk. Throws his arm over her shoulders in the common room. The infamous Mattheo Riddle—who has girls lining up outside his dorm—is being unknowingly f
Mattheo Riddle spent the first two years after graduation absolutely miserable. That’s what happens when you’re the heir to the Riddle legacy and your father, Tom Riddle himself, decides it’s time for you to settle down. Every morning, there was a new folder on his oak desk. Every afternoon, he sat in the Riddle manor drawing room, dressed in tailored suits that made him look like a poster boy for pure-blood superiority, meeting women who looked like they’d swallowed glass. Names like Rosmerta’s niece, a Malfoy, a Weasley (much to his father’s disdain), and a few Black cousins he’d never met. They were all beautiful, yes. They were all the same. They smelled of expensive perfume, spoke about politics or breeding, and asked him if he liked Quidditch. "Mattheo," his father would say, leaning back in his chair, his eyes cold. "Focus. This isn't about enjoyment. It's about legacy. She needs to be pureblood, high-status, and preferably quiet." Mattheo would nod, his mind miles away, thinking about the empty bottles of whiskey under his bed and the girls whose names he didn't even remember the next morning. He was the heir to Slytherin, the son of the Dark Lord, but he felt more like a hollowed-out shell. He wanted to scream, but he just kept smiling that polite, charming smile. One rainy Tuesday, the folder was thicker than usual. It was a list of potential candidates from the entire European magical aristocracy. Mattheo sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, the ink from the quill staining his fingers. He opened the first page, scanning the names. He didn't care. He didn't want this life. He just wanted to escape. He turned the page, and his eyes landed on a name he knew all too well. Y/N L/N. He froze. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. This couldn't be right. He closed the folder and opened it again, his eyes scanning the list until he found the details next to her name. She was still in the magical world, still single. She hadn't married
The rivalry between the elite Slytherins and the elite Gryffindors had long since stopped being about Quidditch scores or House pride. It was personal. By eighteen, they weren’t sneaking around teachers anymore—they were throwing underground parties in abandoned classrooms, smoking behind the Greenhouses, sneaking bottles of Firewhisky into the Astronomy Tower, and treating every hallway like enemy territory. Every shared class ended in insults. Every Hogsmeade weekend turned into another screaming match. Fists flew almost as often as spells. On one side stood the Slytherin elites—Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass… and at the center of it all was Y/N. Y/N was the glue holding them together. The one they all protected without question. If someone came after her, they came after every single one of them. Across the castle, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, and the elite Gryffindors were just as stubborn. Neither side ever backed down. They lived for the next argument, the next sarcastic comment, the next excuse to shove each other into a wall. Then one night everything exploded. A massive party was raging inside an abandoned section of the castle. Music echoed through enchanted speakers, smoke hung in the air, bottles littered every table, and half the students were already drunk. What started as another exchange of insults quickly turned ugly. Harry and Y/N ended up face-to-face. Normally, she could hold her own. She’d throw a sharp comeback, smirk, and walk away with her friends behind her. Not this time. Harry crossed a line. He threw a comment so personal that the room went dead silent. Every laugh stopped. Every conversation died mid-sentence. Spells were firing in every direction. Furniture splintered. Music cut out as people screamed and scattered. And through it all… Y/N stood frozen. Watching the people she cared about
Mattheo Riddle has spent his entire life being told exactly who he is supposed to be. Son of the Dark Lord. Weapon. Heir. Death Eater. At eighteen, he’s already been dragged into his father’s world of blood, violence, curses, and loyalty tests. He’s learned how to lie without blinking, how to hurt people without flinching, and—most importantly—how to never become attached to anyone. So when Voldemort gives him a new assignment, Mattheo assumes it’ll be another murder, another threat, another dirty little job nobody else wants. Instead, his father gives him a name. Y/N. She’s eighteen. A Hogwarts student. Daughter of a wizard her father once considered useful. And, apparently, exactly the kind of person Voldemort wants on his side. There’s only one problem. Y/N’s father already refused. When the Dark Lord approached him and demanded that Y/N join his ranks, her father didn’t hesitate. He told him no. Flat-out. No negotiation. No fear. He would rather die than hand his daughter over. Voldemort can’t simply kill him. Not yet. Because Y/N has something her father doesn’t: a choice. And Voldemort wants to see whether that choice can be taken away. That’s where Mattheo comes in. He’s sent to Hogwarts under the identity of a transfer student. No photograph. No previous school records anyone at Hogwarts can access. No history. Just a fabricated background convincing enough to make the professors accept him and vague enough that nobody can dig too deeply. His orders are simple: Get close to Y/N. Find out what makes her tick. Earn her trust. Make her believe becoming a Death Eater is her own decision. And bring her to Voldemort. Mattheo doesn’t know what Y/N looks like. He doesn’t know her friends. He doesn’t know her house. He doesn’t know her personality. He doesn’t even know where she’ll be sitting when he walks into Hogwarts for the first time. And that’s exactly how Voldemort wants it. Because Mattheo isn’t supposed to have preconceived ideas
The Slytherin common room was absolutely fucking feral. The music was deafening, enchanted bass shaking the stone walls beneath the Black Lake. Empty bottles of Firewhisky and Butterbeer were scattered across every table, people were smoking by the windows, someone had started an illegal card game for Galleons, and two seventh-years were trying to crowd-surf over the sofas. No professors. No rules. Just one massive party that everyone knew would end in detentions by sunrise. Draco was getting his ego bruised after losing three rounds of wizard’s poker. Blaise was shamelessly flirting with anyone who smiled in his direction. Theo was sprawled across the couch with a drink in one hand, laughing so hard he nearly choked every time Lorenzo opened his mouth. Mattheo sat in the middle of it all, cigarette between his fingers, one boot resting on the coffee table as he watched the madness unfold A loud crash echoed across the room. Heads turned. A circle was forming near the fireplace. Nothing attracted a crowd faster than the possibility of a fight.
Mattheo Riddle, a notorious playboy at Hogwarts, finds himself confused by his unexpected reactions to a particular girl. Despite his reputation for meaningless encounters, he finds himself unable to think about anyone else. When he sees her talking to another boy in the Great Hall, he feels an unfamiliar tightening in his chest and leaves abruptly. Later that night, while drinking with his friends (Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, and Blaise Zabini), Mattheo uncharacteristically falls silent. "What's wrong with you, Riddle?" Draco finally asks, irritated by the sudden mood change. Mattheo sighs heavily. "I think there's something wrong with me." "Besides the obvious?" Blaise smirks, but stops when Mattheo glares at him. "I keep thinking about y/n," Mattheo admits reluctantly. "And when I see her with other guys, I want to hex them into oblivion." Theodore nearly chokes on his firewhiskey. "You have a crush." "Don't be ridiculous," Mattheo scoffs. "I don't do feelings. I don't do relationships." Over the next few days, Mattheo's friends observe his behavior—how he stares at her across classrooms, how he deliberately positions himself to "accidentally" run into her in the corridors, how he scowls when anyone else gets her attention. "It's definitely a crush," Theodore declares after watching Mattheo punch a wall when he sees her laughing with Cedric Diggory. "Fine," Mattheo finally concedes. "So what do I do about it?" His friends devise a multi-step operation: 1. Information gathering (find out her interests, schedule, etc.) 2. Strategic positioning (create "accidental" encounters) 3. Subtle displays of interest (without revealing true feelings) 4. Escalation plan (how to move from casual conversation to something more) Blaise takes charge of information gathering, using his charm to learn that the girl loves rare magical plants, spends her free time in the library studying advanced herbology, and has a weakness for chocolate frogs. Draco creates opport
