Mattheo Riddle Series - Blog Posts
warnings : stalking, smoking, gryffindor!reader, muggle!reader, fem!reader, mention of stealing underwear, mention of violence; wc : 3k
character : mattheo riddle
↬ connecting with new people is always nice, unless that person already knows everything about you before you ever meet.
pls pls feel free to send little drabble asks about him/this au eeee
Fires were never easy to put out, burning hot iridescent light that scorched you with a single touch. That was what you were, a fire. A fire that lit inside of him in unstoppable ways to the point that there was no hope for redemption. That fire would never be able to be put out.
Snape’s class was full the first time Mattheo saw you. Sitting at a table in the far corner of the classroom, listening to Hermione rant on and on about how Ron refused to help her with library ransacking to look for a specific book she was on the hunt for. He watched as you dramatically consoled her and promised to help look through all the libraries in the world to help her find that specific book and laughed aloud when she would roll her eyes and very seriously say how there was only one library that was of any importance to look through.
It was only a glance before Mattheo turned his head back to his respective table and went about listening to his own friends argue and laugh. It was only ever meant to be a glance, but that single glance at you forged a whole new life for him. A dark and malicious path he was now bound to for life. From that single brief look in your direction that day, he seemed to now always see you. In classes, at lunch, when you would sneak out to the kitchens in the middle of the night to find snacks to, in your words, “borrow” before hurriedly making your way back to your dorm. At first he hated it, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why you seemed to be everywhere, seemingly making your presence so known to him, completely driving him mad. You were simply tied to him, not that you or him knew that yet, it was as if it was the universes twisted way of a joke, binding the two of you together with string and rope, hoping for a good show when you two inevitably destroyed the other.
It seemed the two of you were stuck in a cycle that you didn't even know about, he would watch you from afar and you would go about your day blissfully unaware. Silently he watched you, taking note of all your interests and slowly becoming more and more unsettled by his own behavior.
Mattheo had a bad habit of watching. It was as if it was his way of protecting himself. Watching his surroundings and the way people acted around him helped him understand how much power he would have over certain situations and people. The people he picked fights with, befriended, sat near, they all had been watched and preyed upon before he made his move.
He cant remember a time he didn’t do this. It came so naturally; it seemed as though it was second nature to him. But with you, it went levels deeper then just keeping a watchful eye. He needed to know everything. How you thought, how you went about your day, the things you liked and hated, the people you deemed worthy of your time and attention. He couldn’t stand not knowing absolutely everything there was to know.
You seemed to be one topic of interest that truly intrigued him. He didn’t even really know why, possibly because of how trusting and kind you were? Or how you would never outright be malicious towards him and his friend group even when warranted.
Sitting in Snapes class for morning potions, he couldn't seem to draw his eyes away from you, grumbling and scowling when Enzo would poke him in attempts to get his attention.
Handing papers out with the most unsurprising scowl on his face, Snape called out in his usual monotone voice that he would be pairing groups of two together. Theodore let out a groan when Snape mentioned it would be mixed houses, while you scribbled on your notepad, not seeming to be paying any attention. Hermione went on a tiny rant about how stupid of an idea it was. You sigh and give her a look before glancing at Harry and Ron’s table to see them arguing over what quill was the others.
“Hermione please give it up” you mumble as she gasps, “This is unbelievable! Not only are we going to be forced to work together with them, but someone is definitely going to get in a fight! Merlin knows Ron has been waiting for a chance to get back at Malfoy for what he said the other day.”
Having heard his name, Ron turned around quickly followed by Harry, and started angrily grumbling. “’Mione's right! That bastard deserves-” Before he could go on a rant Snape hit the back of his head with a newspaper, glared at him when Ron quickly turned around, and walked to the front of the class, quickly shutting the class up with an upset clearing of his throat.
“If you are all done complaining, I'm going to read out who is with who.” He gave the class one more once over before turning is gaze down to the list in his hands, “Weasley with Malfoy.” It seemed as though Snape had done that on purpose. Lightly laughing into your hand, you turn and glance at the livid expression Malfoy had on his face while Snape read out the other pairs. “Finnigan with Flint.”, “Thomas with Goyle.” He went on until it was only you and Mattheo left.
“That leaves you with Riddle” Snape said pointing at you before exclaiming to the class that everyone needed to sit with their respective pairs. Harry got paired with Nott, to his dismay. Hermione got paired with a quiet Slytherin girl. Ron and Malfoy were already shoving each other when Snape would turn away, and you turned to start walking over to Mattheo’s table. He was quiet, and he kept an observant eye on you. You chalked it down to him being wary and disliking you for the house and blood differences of you both, but he never seemed exactly hostile towards you.
“You and your partners will be brewing Felix Felicis, also known as liquid luck. Now, since this is such a challenging potion to make, it will require serious effort and teamwork.” Snape said, not really paying much attention to the class anymore, just walking to his desk and sitting down. “I expect nothing but success.” He said looking at only the Slytherin students, paying no mind at all to the Gryffindor ones.
Malfoy let out the most dramatic sigh and Ron shot him the nastiest look he could muster while the rest of the class sort of just shared unpleasant looks and decided on acceptance. As you started grabbing your potions book from your bag you could hear Snape already scolding Ron and Malfoy. “Absolute idiots.” Hermione muttered behind you causing you to turn around and laugh.
Mattheo sat silently watching the interaction before grabbing his own book and flipping to the page titled “Liquid Luck! Read bellow to become the luckiest person you know!”. He didn’t know why they were being allowed to brew such a precarious potion, most cases of people attempting to brew it ended in serious states of injury or bad luck. Turning towards him, you look at what page he was on before quickly turning to it and beginning to read aloud the ingredients.
“Murtlap tentacles, Lemon, Ashwinder Eggs, Acromantula venom, Amaranth petals, and Belladonna....” Trailing off towards the end, you skimmed over the rest of the page. “This doesn’t look too difficult.” You said, glancing at him to see he was already looking at you with a charming smile. “Ah, you say that now but If I wasn’t here, this potion would’ve kicked your ass.” He said lightly laughing while you faux gasp and whack him with your quill. “Excuse me, but I'll have you know I am a great potions student, I only ever exploded a cauldron once.” You said very matter of fact like while he laughed and muttered a small “sure, sweetheart.” and began writing down the ingredients to grab.
Walking into the great hall Hermione was boasting to you about how she figured out a new way to create the potion and how her partner wasn’t as bad as she had originally assumed she would be. “-Quite nice really, she even let me borrow her quill when mine broke. Isn’t that quite kind? Especially for a Slytherin!” She smiled and started telling Ron the same she had told you when him and Harry walked up to the both of you. “I hate to be the one to ask but can I borrow your notes?” Harry asked when he got close enough to you, flashing a silly begging face and explaining how Nott and him basically just argued the entire time and both got detention. Laughing you agreed and started digging in your bag when you both sat down at the Gryffindor table. “If I say working with Riddle wasn’t that bad, will I be hexed?” You asked jokingly and handed him the binder with all of your notes.
“Oh definitely.” Harry said sarcastically, smiling softly and glancing at Rons unimpressed face, listening to Hermione rant. “-It just wasn’t that bad! And- you're not listening to me!” She said grabbing a cloth napkin and whacking him with it as he started curling into his lap in an attempt to protect himself. “I’m sorry!! Merlin, please stop hitting me!”
Laughing, you avert your eyes from the scene they’re making and look around the great hall, noticing Mattheo sitting at his table with an annoyed look on his face seemingly listening to something Zabini was telling them. You didn’t really know any of them. You’ve had brief encounters with Malfoy and Parkinson but never any that left too much of a bad taste in your mouth.
Mattheo got up seemingly done with whatever Blaise was saying, and started walking towards the great hall’s doors. You got up as well. Giving a brief goodbye to your friends and making up an excuse as to why you’re leaving in such a hurry, you started walking after him. “Hey!” You called out after him after you both were far enough away from the doors of the great hall and other prying eyes. He turned around and confusion found way on his face for a moment before pulling a beaten-up pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offering one to you.
“Well would you look at that, what’re you doing walking around the castle, sweetheart?” He asked, lighting the cigarette in his own mouth after you had refused his offer of one. “Came to bug you of course,” You said in a fake serious tone, jumping up onto one of the windowsills in the hallway and looking out the big glass window overlooking the courtyard. “Really?” he jokingly questioned and went to sit beside you, “You know, you’re shit at potions right?” he said, staring out the window before turning and blowing smoke in the opposite direction when a beat of silence went by, “Huh?” You turned, looking at him now, “You confused your left and your right and almost cut your finger off trying to cut the Murtlap tentacles.”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about Riddle, you must’ve been dreaming” You said dismissively, trying to keep a serious face before turning and looking at him, smiling lightly. “I’ll take your word for it.” He smirked, and laughed when you pulled a beaten up copy of “Dead Poets Society” out of your bag. “I’ve read that one.”
“Never knew you were the type to read, Riddle. You get in fights so much I'm shocked you still have the ability to read.” You joked, causing him to roll his eyes and look over at you. It was beyond odd to him to have someone so willing to talk to him, this comfortably too in opposite houses. Hell, even his own house. Being Voldemort's son didn’t make people any less scared or off put by him.
Possibly because you didn’t truly know who he was, was why you were so openly kind to him, and having come halfway through fourth year. The few people who walked past the two of you gave dirty or worried looks but didn’t dare say anything, just simply kept walking. He thinks maybe that was when the obsession, the desire for you, truly started. Over time after that meeting, he started to get openly more aggressive for your attention, at least he knew that was what it was, to other’s he just seemed more upset, picking fights with people who’d done nothing wrong just so you could see him bloody and hurt.
After quidditch matches he would automatically find ways to seem much worse than he was, and playing cool when you would run up to him and worry about him. He adored it. As more time went by the worse he became, going from watching you in classed to sitting outside your window when you would sleep, telling himself he was only making sure you were safe, justifying his actions to no one but himself.
He knew your schedule by now. By the end of your night, you would always sneak your way down to the kitchen and make food. Walking to the Gryffindor common room was an easy enough task, muttering the password to the fat lady, who was too tired to even look who it was, he opened the portrait and stepped inside. It was always warmer in this common room compared to Slytherin’s. He walked over to where the fireplace was before checking his watch and moving along the side and hiding between the wall and a pillar, waiting for you to come down. You slowly walked down the dormitory stairs down to the main common a few minutes later before grabbing a blanket, wrapping it around yourself, and moving to leave the Gryffindor common room.
As you walked down the stairs to the kitchens, he stayed in place of the shadows near the pillar of the fireplace and waited. The minutes ticked by before he went up the opposite stairs to the girls’ dormitories. He knew he should've gone back to his own dorm, that it was stupid to go to up to your room this late at night, and that the possibilities of getting caught were higher than he would’ve liked if he was thinking clearly, but he needed to see it. Where you slept, got dressed, and kept everything that was dear to you.
He wandered around before finding his way to the room he knew was yours. Opening the door as quietly as he could manage, he made his way inside and saw your bed first. Slowly glancing around the room, he noticed pictures that were pinned to the wall near your bed with little thumbtacks, all the books sprawled around your room and a pile of laundry that was near the end of your bed. He felt disgusted with himself when he bent down to grab a pretty lace undergarment and stuffed it in his pocket, but not enough to not grab more of your belongings and pocket those as well.
He felt strange, as if every time he would see something else that just simply screamed you, he couldn’t breathe. He laid down on your bed, slightly turning his head to smell your pillow and he was gone. Where he went exactly isn’t clear, even to him, but he just seemed to had disappeared for the moments he was breathing in your scent.
You had no idea what was going on way up in the castle walls where you slept each night, completely unaware as you grabbed cheese from the fridge and conversed with the sweet house elf that ran the kitchens. Her name was Romney, she never had an issue with you coming down so late to sneak food, she enjoyed the company. As the minutes ticked by, you finally bid farewell to her and started making your way quietly back up to the Gryffindor common room. Mattheo knew his time was limited, but he couldn’t for the life of him seem to get up, breathing more and more heavily as he grabbed a polaroid you had sitting on your end table of you at the black lake, smiling and holding up “The Godfather” to show the camera. He felt content for the first time in his life as he looked at that polaroid and laid on your bed. The unhealthy obsession that had started bubbling in his soul the moment he first saw you felt like it was overflowing, gushing about him until all he could think about was how he was going to be the one to make you smile, and laugh, and feel like you've been lit on fire.
You made your way up the castle stairs, ducking behind corners and quickly casting Lumos spells on and off when the portraits would make movements indicating they were waking up. The time was later than you had expected, having been in the kitchens a lot longer than you originally anticipated. Yawning, you finally made it back to the portrait of the fat lady and entered the Gryffindor common room. Mattheo knew it was time to go. Begrudgingly, he got up off your bed and started straight toward your window, leaving out of it just as you enter the room.
The window was left open and you were left with a sickening feeling like someone was there.