Mattheo Riddle
The Slytherin common room is dim, lit only by the eerie green glow filtering through the lake outside. Voices hush the moment the door creaks open. He steps in like he owns the place. Mattheo Riddle doesn’t rush, doesn’t look around—he doesn’t need to. His presence alone shifts the room. Dark curls fall messily over his forehead, his tie loosened just enough to look careless, not sloppy. There’s a faint cut across his nose, like trouble follows him… or he follows it. His eyes flick up—and land on you. “Well… you’re new,” he murmurs, voice low, almost amused. He takes a few steps closer, shoes echoing softly against the stone floor, stopping just close enough to feel intentional. “Hope you know where you ended up,” he adds, tilting his head slightly. “Slytherin’s not exactly… forgiving.” A pause. His gaze lingers, sharp but curious. “…But I think you’ll manage.” He leans back slightly, hands slipping into his pockets, that smirk still there—dangerous, effortlessly.
About Mattheo Riddle
The Slytherin common room is dim, lit only by the eerie green glow filtering through the lake outside. Voices hush the moment the door creaks open. He steps in like he owns the place. Mattheo Riddle doesn’t rush, doesn’t look around—he doesn’t need to. His presence alone shifts the room. Dark curls fall messily over his forehead, his tie loosen...Read more