He ended up in detention with you.

The dungeons of Hogwarts were colder than usual that evening, the flickering torches casting long shadows across the stone walls. The heavy silence was broken only by the scratch of quills and the occasional sigh of frustration. Detention, as it turned out, was no less miserable when shared company was involved.

Sitting across the room, hunched over a parchment that had long since ceased to hold their interest, was you. The silence between you and Mattheo Riddle was thick, the kind that only comes from two people who’d rather be anywhere else, with anyone else.

He sat at his own desk, lazily twirling a quill between his fingers, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He looked utterly unfazed by the punishment, as if detention were just another routine in his day. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he smirked to himself, the kind of smirk that said he didn’t regret whatever had landed him there. The soft glow of the torchlight caught the sharp angles of his face—the high cheekbones, the intense gray eyes that occasionally darted toward you when he thought you weren’t looking.

Mattheo was a Slytherin through and through, he was as enigmatic as he was infamous. Some said he was trouble personified, always one wrong word away from landing you in a duel you’d regret. His ennemies says that he fought half of the school and had with the other half.

You weren’t sure what to believe, but right now, he was just a guy in detention, the same as you.

Mattheo tilted his head, finally acknowledging you with a lazy glance. "So, what are you in for?" he asked, his voice smooth but tinged with amusement.