🖤Mattheo Riddle Oneshots 🖤

Shadows and Fire

The dungeons of Hogwarts buzzed with late-night murmurs, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows along the cold, stone walls. Y/N L/N was seated at the edge of the Slytherin common room, her head buried in a worn copy of Moste Potente Potions. She wasn't reading, not really. She was hiding.

Hiding from the whispers that followed her like a curse.

"Did you hear what happened to her family?"

"I heard her father dabbled in something dark... maybe she's just like him."

They didn't know the truth—not fully—but they knew enough to make her life unbearable.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar drawl of Mattheo Riddle. "You always bury your nose in books. What, afraid to join the rest of us mortals for a drink of firewhisky?"

Y/N looked up sharply, her eyes meeting his. Mattheo leaned casually against the wall, his dark curls falling into his face and a wicked smirk playing on his lips. He was trouble, the kind of trouble Y/N had spent her entire life avoiding.

And yet, he intrigued her.

"Some of us have better things to do than sit around and waste our nights drinking," she shot back, though her tone lacked conviction.

Mattheo's smirk deepened as he sauntered closer. "Better things, huh? Like what? Brewing love potions for desperate fools?"

She closed her book with a snap and glared at him. "And what about you, Mattheo? What's so important about sneaking out every night? Meeting your fan club in the Forbidden Forest?"

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—something darker, something real. But it vanished just as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual playful arrogance. "Maybe I was hoping you'd join me."

It started as a game. Mattheo seemed determined to break through Y/N's carefully constructed walls, and she, against her better judgment, let him. He had a way of pulling her into his world—one of secret duels, reckless adventures, and whispered confessions under the stars.

For the first time in years, Y/N felt... alive.

She shared pieces of herself with him, little fragments she hadn't dared to show anyone else. He didn't flinch when she admitted she was afraid of the darkness she carried inside her. In fact, he seemed to understand it.

"Darkness doesn't make you a monster," he told her one night, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it. "What you do with it does."

Y/N believed him. Maybe too much.

Their downfall began on a cold December night.

Y/N had begged him to stay inside, but Mattheo, reckless as ever, insisted on sneaking out to meet some "friends." When he returned hours later, his knuckles were bloodied, and his expression was stormy.

"Who did this to you?" Y/N demanded, her voice trembling as she reached for him.

Mattheo pulled away, his jaw tight. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "Why won't you let me in?"

"Because you wouldn't understand!" he snapped, his anger spilling over. "You think you're the only one with a secret, Y/N? The only one fighting to keep the darkness at bay? You have no idea what I've done!"

Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating.

"I thought..." Y/N's voice broke. "I thought we were in this together."

Mattheo's gaze softened, but the distance between them felt insurmountable. "Maybe we're too alike, Y/N. Maybe that's the problem."

The next day, Y/N found a note tucked into her Potions book.

I care about you, more than I should. But we'll destroy each other if we keep this up. Take care of yourself, Y/N. —M

She read the words over and over until the ink blurred through her tears.

She didn't see Mattheo again after that—not really. He was always in the background, laughing with his friends, his eyes never quite meeting hers. And Y/N? She went back to hiding in the shadows, her heart heavier but her resolve stronger.

Because if there was one thing she'd learned from Mattheo Riddle, it was that sometimes, the only way to save yourself was to walk away from the fire.