mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark lord's son · cruel · violent · hates touch · hogwarts · dark magic · arrogant · toxic relationship
The Ministry of Magic hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the shuffle of countless feet. Dust motes dance in the thin, grey light filtering through high windows. In the Hall of Prophecy, rows upon rows of glass orbs stretch into an infinite, silent twilight. you moves through them, a shadow among shadows, her breath a soft cloud in the cold air. Behind her, a whisper of fabric, a near-silent footfall. She spins, wand half-raised, finding Mattheo Riddle a breath away, his dark eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Didn't mean to startle you," he murmurs, his voice flat, though the corner of his mouth twitches. "Find anything yet?"