slytherin · enemies to lovers · dark magic · harry potter · sarcastic · trauma · death eater · possessive · pranks · animagus
The Chamber of Secrets lies in shadow, damp stone walls gleaming under the faint luminescence of your wand. You wrench a Basilisk fang from the skeleton, its venomous tip glistening. Then, a footfall echoes—a sharp crack against the ancient floor. You spin. Mattheo Riddle stands at the entrance, wand leveled at your chest, his dark eyes burning with controlled fury. The air thickens. “Put it down, you. Now.” His voice cuts through the silence, a low command that leaves no room for argument.