𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕠 ℝ𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕝𝕖

𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕠𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕖 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕥

A/N: Just a small continuation of Mattheo and Y/N being unhinged for each other.

Theo was still muttering about “sickeningly in love couples” as he sprawled across the couch, looking like he had just witnessed the worst horror story of his life. Enzo, meanwhile, had settled into the armchair with an amused smirk, clearly enjoying every second of the chaos.

Mattheo, however, was still entirely focused on you. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles on your thigh, his grip firm enough to remind everyone in the room that you were his. His dark eyes flicked between your lips and your eyes like he was contemplating whether he wanted to keep the conversation going or just drag you off somewhere less public.

Theo, of course, noticed.

"Okay, seriously?" he groaned, throwing a cushion at Mattheo’s head. "Can you not look at her like you want to eat her alive while we’re all sitting right here?"

Mattheo caught the cushion midair without even looking at it, his smirk widening. "Not my fault you’re still here, mate."

Theo scowled. "You do realize you have the exact same expression when you're thinking about murder, right? That feral, unhinged, 'I’m about to ruin something' look?"

Mattheo shrugged, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your waist. "And?"

Theo groaned. "And it’s disturbing!" He gestured wildly at you. "How is she not freaked out by this?"

You raised a brow. "Why would I be?" You turned your head, locking eyes with Mattheo, your voice dropping just slightly. "I like the way he looks at me."

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, his grip flexing on you like he was barely restraining himself. "Fuck, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with something dangerous. "You’re gonna make me lose it."

Theo practically threw himself off the couch. "Nope. Nope. I refuse to be here for this."

Enzo was laughing at this point, shaking his head. "You two are actually insane."

Mattheo smirked, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against your jaw just to be obnoxious about it. "And?"

Theo stormed toward the door. "I hate it here."

Enzo got up as well, clapping Mattheo on the shoulder as he followed Theo. "Enjoy your feral lovefest, mate."

Mattheo didn’t even acknowledge them. He was too busy watching you, his fingers now tracing the curve of your jaw.

The moment the door shut behind them, he exhaled sharply. "Finally."

You laughed softly. "They weren’t that bad."

Mattheo hummed, his fingers tilting your chin up so you were forced to meet his gaze. His voice dropped into that low, husky tone that sent shivers down your spine.

"You do realize I was seconds away from dragging you out of here, right?"

Your smirk widened. "Oh?"

Mattheo’s jaw tensed. "Sweetheart."

You just tilted your head, feigning innocence. "I really don’t see the problem, Riddle."

Mattheo let out a low, dangerous chuckle, his fingers tightening on your chin. "You’re playing with fire," he murmured.

Your smirk only deepened. "Good."

Mattheo groaned, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to your feet. "That’s it—"

And before you could react, he was already dragging you toward the exit.

Because, really—if Theo thought Mattheo was unhinged before?

He had no idea.

A/N: Based on a request by @doves1120 after my previous post 🥰

Theo and Enzo were walking on either side of you as you made your way toward the courtyard, where Mattheo was supposed to be waiting after his last class. The two of them were in the middle of some ridiculous argument about Quidditch—Theo swearing that the Montrose Magpies were superior while Enzo adamantly refused to accept anything but Puddlemere United—when Enzo suddenly grabbed your arm.

"Uh, Y/N," he said, his voice laced with caution.

Theo followed Enzo’s line of sight and let out a low whistle. "Ohhh, shit."

You frowned before turning your head—and the moment you did, your blood boiled.

Some girl was standing way too close to Mattheo.

She was twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, tilting her head up at him with a sickeningly sweet smile. You could practically hear her giggle from where you stood.

Mattheo, for his part, looked unimpressed—his arms crossed, his jaw tight, his entire posture screaming disinterest. But that didn’t stop the girl.

She actually had the audacity to place a hand on his arm, leaning in as she spoke.

Your vision flashed.

Enzo took one look at your face and muttered, "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Theo smirked. "Mate, I think we’re about to witness an actual murder."

You didn’t respond. You were already walking.

No—stalking.

Every step was controlled, lethal, your expression unreadable. But the fire in your eyes burned bright enough to terrify.

The girl was still talking when you reached them.

"I just think we’d get along so well, Mattheo," she purred, batting her lashes. "You do spend so much time with Y/N, but don’t you think you should keep your options open?"

Mattheo barely had time to react before you were right there, stepping between them in a way that was almost too calm.

The girl blinked in surprise. "Oh, Y/N! Hi, I was just—"

"You were just leaving," you said smoothly, your voice even—but dripping with something dangerous.

Her confidence wavered. "I was just talking to Mattheo—"

"See, that’s the problem," you cut in, tilting your head. "You were talking to my boyfriend."

She let out a nervous laugh. "Well, I didn’t mean anything by it—"

"Didn’t you?" You took a slow step forward, forcing her to step back. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were trying to put your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you."

Mattheo let out a low hum of approval from behind you, but he didn’t interrupt. This was your moment.

The girl swallowed hard. "I-I didn’t know you’d be so possessive—"

Your eyes flashed. "No, see, possessive would be hexing you into next week just for breathing in his direction. What I am is someone who doesn’t tolerate disrespect. And you?" You leaned in slightly, dropping your voice to something only she could hear. "You just disrespected me."

The girl stiffened, clearly realizing she was in danger.

Behind you, Theo muttered, "Bloody hell."

Enzo let out a low whistle. "This is terrifying."

Mattheo, however, was smirking like he was enjoying every second of it.

You didn’t move, didn’t blink. You just stared at her.

The girl shifted uncomfortably, her confidence completely shattered. "I—um—I should go," she stammered, voice high and shaky.

You smiled—a dangerous, deadly smile. "Yes," you said sweetly. "You should."

And just like that, she turned on her heel and practically ran away.

There was a heavy silence.

Then—

"Okay, what the fuck," Theo breathed, looking at you like you’d just killed someone.

Enzo chuckled, shaking his head. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Mattheo, on the other hand, was still watching you, eyes dark and absolutely feral.

You turned to face him, raising a brow. "Something you wanna say?"

Mattheo exhaled sharply, his jaw tight. "Yeah," he said, his voice low and husky. "That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen."

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him. His hands were rough as they slid down to your waist, his lips already at your ear.

"Merlin, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "You really expect me to not throw you against the nearest wall after that?"

Your breath hitched, but you smirked up at him. "I told you before, Mattheo," you whispered, tilting your chin up. "No one comes between us."

He groaned under his breath, fingers digging into your hips. "I swear to god, if we weren’t in the middle of the bloody courtyard—"

"Okay, enough," Theo groaned, looking thoroughly done. "I’m gonna be sick."

Enzo snorted. "I mean, I knew Y/N was scary, but watching her go full Riddle mode? That was a new level."

Mattheo smirked, keeping you firmly against him. "Told you," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. "She’s the only one scarier than me."

Theo shook his head. "Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re both terrifying and disgustingly obsessed with each other. Please, spare the rest of us."

You just grinned, resting a hand on Mattheo’s chest. "Not my fault you can’t handle it, Theo."

Mattheo chuckled, dropping his head to press a lingering kiss to your jaw. "Mmm, that’s my girl."

And as Theo gagged dramatically and Enzo shook his head with a knowing smirk, Mattheo just smirked against your skin.

Because as far as he was concerned—anyone who did try to come between you?

Well.

They’d be lucky if they only had to deal with him.

Theo and Enzo had never been afraid of Mattheo Riddle. Sure, he was intimidating as hell—violent, unpredictable, and utterly terrifying when he wanted to be—but they’d seen him at his worst, his best, and all the moments in between. They were used to his temper, to the way he thrived on chaos and confrontation.

But there were two things that could truly set him off.

One: Someone messing with you.

Two: You being hurt.

Which was why, when Theo and Enzo stumbled into the Slytherin common room that evening and spotted you sitting on the couch with a busted lip, their immediate reaction was not concern for your well-being.

It was concern for whoever had done this to you.

“Holy shit,” Theo muttered under his breath, elbowing Enzo. “She’s injured.”

Enzo inhaled sharply. “Mattheo’s gonna lose it.”

You looked up at them, confused by their hushed conversation. “What?”

Theo pointed at your lip. “What happened?”

You waved a dismissive hand. “It’s nothing—”

Enzo snorted. “Yeah, okay, sure. Mattheo’s definitely gonna believe that.”

Theo shook his head. “Nah, she’s screwed. If Mattheo sees that—”

“If Mattheo sees what?”

The low, dangerous voice cut through the air, and both boys immediately straightened up like soldiers at attention.

You tensed, turning your head just in time to see Mattheo approaching, his dark eyes already narrowed in suspicion. His gaze flickered over you, and the second he spotted your split lip, his entire demeanor shifted.

His body went rigid. His jaw clenched.

And the temperature in the room dropped.

“What the fuck happened?” His voice was calm—too calm.

You swallowed, suddenly very aware that both Theo and Enzo were backing away like they wanted to disappear.

“Mattheo, it’s fine—”

“No.” He crouched in front of you, his fingers gently tilting your chin up so he could inspect the damage. His expression darkened. “Tell me what happened princess, right now.”

You hesitated. Mattheo was already on edge from his usual antics, and you didn’t want to add to it. But you also knew there was no way he was letting this go.

So, with a sigh, you muttered, “I got in a fight.”

Silence.

Then—

“What?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “It wasn’t a big deal—”

Mattheo stood up abruptly, running a hand through his curls, his expression a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “You don’t fight, darling. What happened?”

You bit your lip—ow—and looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”

Mattheo exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. “It matters to me.”

You knew you weren’t getting out of this. So, with a small, shaky breath, you finally admitted, “She was saying… things about you.”

Mattheo’s expression flickered. “What?”

Your throat tightened. “Hannah Abbott. She was talking shit about you, and I—I just couldn’t let her get away with it.”

Mattheo went very still.

Theo and Enzo, meanwhile, exchanged looks of complete and utter shock.

“She fought someone for him?” Theo whispered, eyes wide.

Enzo let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t see that coming.”

Mattheo ignored them completely, his focus entirely on you. His anger—the burning, violent rage that had been simmering in his chest—shifted into something else entirely.

His heart swelled.

“You…” He trailed off, staring at you like you’d just told him you would die for him.

You sniffled, a little overwhelmed, but nodded. “I know you don’t need anyone to defend you, but I just—she was being so awful, Mattheo. I couldn’t listen to it.”

Mattheo let out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as the sharp edges of his fury softened. He stepped closer, his hands coming to cradle your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones.

“Oh, princess.” His voice was so, so soft. “You really are too good for this world.”

You huffed. “I don’t feel very good right now.”

His eyes darkened again, his fingers brushing against your lip so delicately, it almost made you shiver. “I hate seeing you hurt.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the warmth in your chest made it hard to keep up the act. “You should see her though, you’d be proud,” you managed to laugh slightly.

Mattheo exhaled through his nose, his fingers still tracing your skin like he needed to make sure you were real. Then, after a long pause, he murmured, “I don’t doubt it, beautiful. But leave the fighting to me from now on, yeah?”

You blinked. “Mattheo—”

“No, baby.” His voice was gentle but firm. “I know you were trying to protect me. And I love you for it. But you’re mine, and I don’t want to see you hurt.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Let me be the one to fight, okay?”

You bit your lip—again, ow—but nodded. “Okay.”

Mattheo smiled slightly, though his eyes still held a storm. “Good girl.”

Theo groaned dramatically from behind him. “Merlin’s sake, can you at least pretend to be scary right now? You were just about to go on a murder spree, and now you’re whispering the softest shit I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Mattheo turned his head slightly, his expression immediately shifting into something terrifying. “Do you want me to start the murder spree with you, Theo?”

Theo held up his hands. “Nope. All good.”

Mattheo turned back to you, his gaze soft once again as he ran his fingers through your hair. “C’mon, let’s get you some ice.”

A/N: This is one of my personal favorites, just for the platonic sentimentality between Theo and Y/N…and it’s a super long one ❤️

Finding The Dress

As you and Mattheo continued basking in the moment, Pansy, ever the planner, clapped her hands together excitedly.

Set The Date

The next morning at breakfast, Pansy was practically vibrating with excitement. “Alright, lovebirds,” she announced, slamming her hands down on the Slytherin table, startling Enzo, who nearly choked on his toast. “We need to talk wedding plans.”

Mattheo, still half-asleep and nursing his coffee, barely lifted his head. “Pansy, it’s too early for this.”

“It’s never too early for wedding planning,” she scoffed, flipping open a notebook she had clearly prepared in advance. “Venue—Riddle Manor. Guest list—small and intimate. But what about the dress? The colors? The flowers? The—”

You laughed, leaning against Mattheo’s shoulder as he lazily played with your fingers. “Pans, we haven’t even set a date yet.”

“You’re both entirely too relaxed about this,” she huffed.

Theo smirked over his cup of tea. “They’re acting like they’re just strolling into a courthouse, not planning a wedding.”

Enzo chuckled. “At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if they eloped and didn’t tell us.”

Mattheo finally sat up properly, wrapping an arm around you. “Look, Pans, we love that you’re excited, but we just want something simple. No stress, no over-the-top nonsense. Just the people who matter.”

Pansy groaned dramatically. “Ugh, fine. But at least let me help with the dress shopping.”

You grinned. “That, I’ll allow.”

Mattheo kissed the top of your head before turning back to his coffee, while your friends exchanged amused glances. Pansy was determined to turn this into the event of the year, while you and Mattheo were more than happy to take your time and let things happen naturally.

As your friends continued debating wedding details, you found yourself lost in thought, idly twirling your engagement ring. The chatter around you blurred as a quiet idea took root in your mind.

“Maybe…” you murmured, more to yourself than anyone else. “Maybe we should set a date.”

Mattheo, who had been lazily tracing patterns on the back of your hand, perked up at your words. “Yeah?” His deep brown eyes searched yours, intrigued.

You hesitated for only a second before voicing the thought that had settled so naturally in your heart. “September 1st.”

The table went quiet. Mattheo blinked, tilting his head slightly. “Why September 1st?”

You offered him a small, meaningful smile. “Because that’s when we met. That first train ride to Hogwarts. It’s the day everything started.”

Mattheo stared at you for a long moment, and then, just like that, a slow grin spread across his face. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you could see the emotion flicker in his eyes.

“That’s perfect,” he said, voice softer than usual, filled with something deep and unspoken. “September 1st it is.”

Pansy let out an exaggerated sigh, breaking the moment. “Finally, some actual progress!”

Theo smirked. “It’s disgustingly sentimental, but I’ll allow it.”

Enzo nudged Mattheo with a grin. “You’re so gone for her, mate.”

Mattheo didn’t even pretend to deny it. He just kissed your temple, whispering, “I always have been.”

Your Wedding Party

That evening, as you lay tangled in the sheets with Mattheo, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your bare back, the conversation drifted to your wedding party.

“I want Theo and Enzo as my best men,” he murmured, his voice deep and relaxed. “No way I could pick between them, and they’d probably kill me if I tried.”

You chuckled. “That’s fair. And Draco and Blaise as your groomsmen?”

“Obviously,” he smirked. “Though Enzo might turn the whole thing into a stand-up comedy routine.”

You grinned. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Mattheo shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. “What about you, my love? Who’s standing with you?”

You smiled softly. “Pansy, of course.”

Mattheo’s expression softened. “That’s perfect.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You two have gotten closer again since the war, haven’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Everything that happened put things into perspective.”

Mattheo ran his fingers through your hair, watching you with an expression so full of love it made your heart ache. “I like that. A wedding should be about the people who really matter.”

You traced the tattoos on his forearm. “It’s going to be the most beautiful day, Mattheo.”

He hummed in agreement. “Because I get to marry you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled. “You’re such a sap.”

“For you? Always,” he whispered, before kissing you deeply.

A/N: If there are any specific scenarios you want me to explore, please let me know 🥰

The Slytherin common room was dimly lit, the fire casting flickering shadows as you slumped over a pile of parchment, feeling like your brain was going to melt. Your Ancient Runes essay looked like gibberish, your Potions notes were a disaster, and Transfiguration theory? Forget it.

And, of course, Mattheo was in detention, meaning your usual study distraction was nowhere to be found.

"You're gonna combust if you keep staring at that essay like that," Theo remarked, lazily watching you from across the room.

Enzo, stretched out on the couch, hummed in agreement. "Yeah, seriously. You need to relax."

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "I can't. If I don’t finish this, McGonagall will murder me."

Theo twirled something between his fingers, smirking. "You need to chill."

You shot him a glare. "Brilliant advice, Theo. Got any actual suggestions?"

Instead of answering, he pulled out a cigarette. "Here. Always helps me."

You blinked. "Are you serious?"

Theo smirked. "Dead serious."

Before you could answer, Enzo snorted, shaking his head. "Mate, I give you ten seconds before Mattheo walks in and loses his absolute shit."

Theo chuckled. "Oh, come on. It's one cigarette. What’s the worst that could happen?"

You hesitated, glancing at Enzo, who just grinned like he already knew how this would end.

"...Fine," you muttered, taking it. Theo flicked his lighter, holding it up.

The first inhale was awful—your throat burned, and you immediately coughed.

"Merlin’s beard," you choked, waving the smoke away. "How do you do this?"

Theo just laughed. "You'll get used to it."

Before you could bring it back to your lips to try again, the common room door creaked open.

A wave of tense silence spread as Mattheo walked in, his uniform slightly rumpled from detention, tie hanging loose, sleeves rolled up.

His dark eyes landed on you immediately—and more specifically, on the cigarette between your fingers.

The room might as well have dropped ten degrees.

"The fuck is this?" His voice was low and dangerous.

Theo and Enzo froze, exchanging looks.

You slowly lowered the cigarette, feeling caught. "...Hi, Mattheo."

"Don't hi, Mattheo me princess,” he challenged, stalking over. His gaze flickered between you and Theo. "Since when does you smoke?"

Theo opened his mouth, but Enzo elbowed him. "Told you, mate," Enzo muttered. "Ten seconds."

Mattheo completely ignored them, eyes fixed on you. Before you could even react, he plucked the cigarette from your fingers—but instead of tossing it away like you expected, he brought it to his own lips and took a slow, deep drag.

You stared. Hard.

So did Theo and Enzo.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered.

Mattheo exhaled a stream of smoke, smirking. "What?"

You folded your arms, raising an eyebrow. "Double standards much?"

His smirk only grew as he tilted his head. "Angel, there’s no hope for my soul," he murmured, flicking some ash away. "But you?" He leaned in, his voice dropping lower, just for you. "I won’t let anyone corrupt you." His lips brushed your ear as he added, "Except me… when you ask really nicely."

Then he winked.

Your stomach flipped.

Theo gagged dramatically. "Merlin, I regret everything. Take the cigarette back, this is unbearable."

Enzo howled with laughter. "I told you, Theo!"

Mattheo shot them both an unimpressed look before turning back to you. He exhaled another puff of smoke, his free hand slipping around your waist. "Promise me, princess—next time you're stressed, you come to me. Not these two idiots."

You huffed. "You were in detention."

"Then you wait for me," he murmured, tapping the cigarette ash away before leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I'll always take care of you."

Theo groaned. "I'm actually going to be sick."

Mattheo ignored him, his eyes locked on yours, waiting for your answer.

You sighed, giving in—because, really, how could you say no when he looked at you like that? "...Fine. I promise."

His smirk softened into something dangerously sweet. "Good girl."

Then, just to be an ass, he took another drag from the cigarette and kissed you slow enough that you could still taste the smoke on his lips.

Enzo whistled. "Oh, that's just evil."

Mattheo just grinned against your lips, clearly having the time of his life.

The whispers had become a constant hum in the Great Hall, a low murmur that followed Mattheo like a shadow. Ever since his father’s return, his name carried more weight than ever—more fear, more suspicion. Students shrank away when he passed, their voices hushed but not enough to stop him from hearing. Voldemort. The name curled on their tongues like poison.

He didn’t care. Let them whisper. Let them believe whatever their terrified minds conjured. His only concern sat beside him, unaware of the storm brewing in his head. You.

You were sitting with Mattheo, Theo, and Enzo at the Slytherin table, your hands resting on Mattheo’s thigh as he absentmindedly played with your fingers, his other hand holding a goblet of wine-red pumpkin juice. He looked calm, at least on the surface, but you could tell by the tension in his shoulders that something was off.

You followed his gaze, your stomach twisting when you saw the source of his irritation—Fred Weasley.

Fred was sitting at the Gryffindor table, laughing with his twin and a few others. He didn’t seem to notice Mattheo’s glare burning into the side of his head, but you knew it wouldn’t take much to set your boyfriend off. The last time Fred had said something about Mattheo’s family, Mattheo had nearly hexed him into the hospital wing.

Theo and Enzo were already watching with mild amusement, waiting to see what would happen.

"Mate, just hex him already and get it over with," Theo said lazily, stabbing at his food with his fork. "You’re going to combust if you keep glaring like that."

"Nah," Enzo countered, smirking. "He’s waiting for a real reason. Give Weasley a few minutes; he always runs his mouth eventually."

Mattheo didn’t respond, but his fingers tensed around yours. You could feel the barely restrained anger rolling off him in waves. You sighed, squeezing his hand. "Mattheo, focus," you murmured. "You promised you’d help me with my Charms essay, remember?"

His eyes flicked to you, still dark with irritation, but his expression softened slightly. "I did, didn’t I?" he mused, though his glare returned to Fred a second later.

You rolled your eyes, realizing there was only one way to get his attention back on you.

Without warning, you grabbed his chin and pulled him into a deep kiss. Mattheo immediately responded, his grip tightening on your waist as he kissed you back, his fingers tangling in your hair. The sound of Enzo and Theo groaning in mock disgust barely registered in your mind.

"Bloody hell," Theo muttered. "We get it, you two are obsessed with each other."

"I’m going to hex myself just to escape this," Enzo added, pretending to gag.

When you finally pulled back, Mattheo looked at you with a dazed expression, his anger momentarily forgotten. His pupils were blown wide, and his lips were slightly swollen from the kiss. "What were we talking about again?" he murmured.

You smirked, brushing your thumb over his jaw. "My Charms essay."

"Right," he said, though he still looked entirely distracted by you.

Theo snorted. "Unbelievable. One kiss and you’ve melted him completely. You really do own him."

"Shut up, Theo," Mattheo grumbled, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he turned his full attention to you, leaning in so close that his nose brushed against yours. "Alright, love, let’s talk about Charms. I’ll give you whatever help you need."

You smiled triumphantly, knowing you’d successfully pulled him back to you. But as much as Mattheo was now entirely focused on you, you couldn’t ignore the way he occasionally glanced back at the Gryffindor table, like he was still debating whether or not to throw a hex.

You sighed. It was only a matter of time before chaos struck again.

As dinner continued, you could feel Mattheo’s fingers twitching where they rested against your thigh, his eyes flickering back to the Gryffindor table every so often. He was distracted, but at least he wasn’t storming over there yet. Small victories.

Theo and Enzo, however, weren’t helping.

"You know," Theo started, picking at his food with a smirk, "if you don’t do something soon, Weasley might get the idea that you’ve gone soft."

Mattheo tensed beside you, his jaw clenching.

Enzo grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Yeah, imagine what people would say. ‘Mattheo Riddle, heir to the Dark Lord, taken down by a single kiss.’ Sounds tragic, really."

You shot them both a look. "Would you two shut up? He’s already trying not to murder anyone tonight, let’s not encourage him."

"We’re just pointing out facts," Theo said, raising his hands innocently. "Your boyfriend has a reputation to uphold."

"His reputation is fine," you shot back, but Mattheo exhaled sharply and leaned back in his seat, his fingers flexing as if itching to grab his wand.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," he muttered, pushing his plate away.

You could tell he was at his limit. The stress of all the drama and attention surrounding his father’s return to power was all weighing on him. And now, Theo and Enzo were poking at him like he was some caged animal ready to snap.

You sighed, reaching for his hand again. "Mattheo, don’t."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, but before he could respond, Fred’s loud, obnoxious voice carried across the hall.

"—not like Riddle can do anything, anyway. All that talk, but he only picks fights when he knows he’ll win."

The moment those words left Fred’s mouth, the Great Hall went still. A few students turned their heads, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Even some of the professors seemed to pause, looking toward the Slytherin table warily.

Mattheo, who had been on edge all night, went entirely still beside you. You could practically feel the rage rolling off of him, his entire body tensing like a predator that had just locked onto its prey.

Theo and Enzo immediately sat up straighter, no longer smirking.

"Oh, fuck," Enzo muttered under his breath.

Theo blinked. "Well. That was a choice Weasley just made."

You groaned, knowing exactly what was about to happen. "Mattheo—"

Too late.

Before you could stop him, Mattheo was already out of his seat, moving with a deadly grace toward the Gryffindor table. The hall erupted into hushed murmurs as students watched him stalk forward like a man possessed.

You got up immediately, following after him, but Theo grabbed your wrist. "Let him have this one," he murmured. "You know he needs it."

You bit your lip, torn between stopping Mattheo and knowing that Theo was right. After everything that had happened, Mattheo needed an outlet. And unfortunately for Fred, he had just volunteered himself as a sacrifice.

By the time Mattheo reached the Gryffindor table, Fred was already standing, his usual cocky smirk in place. "Ah, there he is. Took you long enough—"

He didn’t get to finish.

Mattheo’s fist connected with Fred’s jaw so fast that most people barely had time to register what had happened before Fred was stumbling backward, knocking into George.

The hall exploded into chaos.

"What the fuck, Riddle?!" Fred shouted, clutching his jaw.

Mattheo just stood there, rolling his shoulders like he hadn’t just decked a Weasley in the middle of dinner. "What? I thought you wanted a fight," he said, voice eerily calm. "Or was all that talking just for show?"

Fred, never one to back down, lunged at him, and suddenly the two of them were full-on brawling in the middle of the Great Hall.

Students were cheering, some scrambling to get out of the way. The professors were already shouting, wands raised, but no one dared to step in just yet.

Theo and Enzo were thrilled.

"Oh, this is fantastic," Enzo grinned, leaning forward with an excited gleam in his eyes. "Best dinner we’ve had in weeks."

"My money’s on Riddle knocking him out cold in the next three minutes," Theo said, nudging Enzo.

"Two," Enzo countered.

"One," you deadpanned, because Mattheo had just slammed Fred into the Gryffindor table so hard that plates shattered on impact.

"Alright, that’s enough!"

Professor McGonagall’s voice rang through the chaos, and with a flick of her wand, both Mattheo and Fred were forcibly separated, yanked apart by an invisible force.

Mattheo was breathing heavily, his lip bleeding slightly, but he looked thrilled.

Fred, on the other hand, looked like he had just gone through a war. His hair was a mess, his shirt was ripped, and he had a nasty bruise forming on his cheekbone.

McGonagall looked furious. "Detention. The both of you. My office. Now."

Mattheo wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, smirking as he glanced back at you.

"Worth it," he mouthed.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as he was practically dragged out of the hall by McGonagall.

Theo and Enzo were howling with laughter.

"That was beautiful," Theo said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "Absolutely stunning work. I’m so proud of him."

"He looked so feral," Enzo added. "Did you see the way he threw Weasley into the table? Absolute art."

You shot them both a look. "You two are the worst."

"And yet, you love us," Theo grinned.

"No, I love Mattheo, but he’s also currently on his way to serve detention, so thanks for that," you muttered, shaking your head.

Theo smirked. "You gonna go wait for him?"

You hesitated for a second before sighing. "Yeah. Someone’s gotta make sure he doesn’t hex the next person he sees.”

Enzo grinned. "Good luck with that one.”

You rolled your eyes but turned on your heel, making your way toward McGonagall’s office. Mattheo Riddle was going to be the death of you, but Merlin help you, you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You leaned against the cold stone wall outside McGonagall’s office, arms crossed as you waited for Mattheo to emerge from his detention. The hallways were quiet now, dinner having ended long ago, and you were left with nothing but the occasional flicker of torchlight and the muffled sounds of students moving about the castle.

You had half a mind to be annoyed with Mattheo—because honestly, punching Fred Weasley in the middle of the Great Hall? Not his smartest moment. But at the same time, you knew exactly why he’d done it. He had been itching for a release, something to pour his anger into. And Fred, with his big mouth and reckless attitude, had given him the perfect excuse.

The door creaked open.

Mattheo stepped out, looking entirely unbothered, as if he hadn’t just spent an hour being lectured by McGonagall. His lip was still a little split, though the swelling had gone down, and there were faint bruises blooming along his knuckles. His tie was loosened, and his shirt was slightly untucked—he looked thoroughly unrepentant.

The moment he spotted you, his entire expression softened. "Hey, love," he murmured, already moving toward you.

You sighed, shaking your head. "Mattheo."

"What?" he asked, smirking as he reached for your waist. "Didn’t you love watching me put Weasley in his place?"

"You’re impossible," you muttered, but you didn’t pull away when he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you into him.

"And yet, you’re here waiting for me," he murmured, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the side of your jaw. "Which means you love me anyway."

You rolled your eyes, but your hands found their way to his chest, fingers brushing over the faint bruises peeking from under his collar. "You’re lucky I do," you muttered. "Otherwise, I’d let you deal with your injuries alone."

"You’d never," he teased, but there was something softer in his voice now. His forehead dropped against yours, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter. "You always take care of me."

Your expression softened. "Of course I do. Someone has to.”

Mattheo exhaled, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Come on, let’s get out of here. I’m in desperate need of a bath, and you, my love, are in desperate need of letting me spoil you properly."

"Spoil me?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one who got in a fight."

"Exactly," he murmured, smirking. "Which means you had to stress over me, and for that, you deserve extra attention."

You rolled your eyes, but you let him lace his fingers with yours as he led you down the hallway.

Of course, when you got back to the Slytherin common room, Theo and Enzo were waiting.

"Ah, there they are," Theo said, grinning. "Hogwarts’ favorite troublemaker and his poor, suffering girlfriend."

"Took you long enough," Enzo added, smirking. "Did you two snog in the hallway or something?"

Mattheo smirked. "Wouldn’t you like to know."

Theo groaned. "Merlin, you two are insufferable."

"And yet," you said, smiling sweetly, "you love us anyway."

Theo muttered something under his breath, but Enzo just laughed. "She’s got you there, mate."

Mattheo tugged you toward the couch, pulling you down onto his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His arms wrapped around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as he exhaled contentedly. "Much better," he murmured. "Now, I believe I promised to spoil you, love."

"Oh?" Theo quipped, smirking. "And what does spoiling entail?"

Mattheo smirked against your skin. "Wouldn’t you like to know."

Theo groaned again, while Enzo just cackled.

And despite the absolute chaos of the day, you couldn’t help but smile. Because as long as you had Mattheo, Theo, and Enzo—your ridiculous, unhinged little group—you knew that, somehow, everything would be okay.

A/N - These can be read as a standalone set or read after the events of ‘Yule Be Mine - Part 3’. Just some cute drabbles about planning the wedding between you and Mattheo to feed my delusion 😂

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Working out the details

The common room was dimly lit, the glow from the fireplace casting flickering shadows along the stone walls. The scent of smoke and firewhiskey filled the air as your group gathered, sinking into the plush green-and-silver couches, laughter and conversation flowing easily.

Enzo took a swig from the bottle and passed it to Theo, who was already grinning. “Alright, let’s talk about the real issue at hand,” he said, nudging Mattheo with his elbow. “When’s the wedding? Because I need to know how long I have to prepare the best best-man speech in history.”

Mattheo, who had been sitting close to you, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders, smirked. “You’re assuming you’re the best man?”

Enzo scoffed. “Mate, if you pick Draco over me, I’ll hex you.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I don’t even want to be best man. Too much work.”

Pansy leaned forward eagerly, her eyes gleaming. “Forget the best man, I want to know the real details. Have you picked a date? A venue? And most importantly, have you decided on colors? Because if you make me wear anything hideous, I will hex you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “We haven’t even gotten that far yet.”

Mattheo, who had been twirling your engagement ring between his fingers absentmindedly, glanced down at you with a smirk. “All I care about is making you my wife. Everything else is just details.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and Pansy dramatically clutched her chest. “Ugh, you two are disgusting.”

Blaise chuckled. “It’s true, though. It’s weird seeing Mattheo like this. I swear, last year he was cursing anyone who even looked at him wrong, and now he’s—”

“A simp?” Theo supplied, grinning.

Mattheo groaned but didn’t deny it. Instead, he tightened his hold around you, pulling you into him more. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I don’t care. I’ve got everything I could ever want right here.”

Your friends all exchanged looks, half-amused, half-mocking, but beneath all the teasing, you knew they were genuinely happy for you both.

“Alright,” Pansy declared, “so let’s at least start with whether you want a big or small wedding?”

Mattheo exhaled in relief when you suggested a small, intimate wedding. "Thank Merlin," he muttered, taking a sip of firewhiskey. "The last thing I want is a bunch of people I barely know watching us say our vows."

Pansy, who had been ready to launch into a full-scale wedding planning session, groaned. "You two are no fun. A grand wedding would be iconic. He’s the Dark Lord’s heir, you’re practically royalty."

You shook your head with a smile. "We don’t need all that. After everything we’ve been through, I just want something meaningful, with the people we actually care about. I’m not sure Mattheo wants to boast about his heritage these days either.”

Mattheo pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring, "Exactly."

Draco, who had been quiet, nodded in agreement. "Honestly, after the war, I don’t think any of us need some massive, public event. Something private makes sense."

Theo leaned back against the couch, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Alright, so where are you thinking? Because if you say Hogwarts, I swear—"

You laughed. "No, not Hogwarts." You glanced at Mattheo before saying, "What about Riddle Manor?"

Mattheo blinked, caught off guard. “Riddle Manor?”

You nodded. "It's yours now. It’s part of your legacy, but you get to make it what you want it to be. Why not start by making it a place of love instead of war?"

A slow smirk curled at his lips. "You’re brilliant, you know that?"

"I do," you teased.

Enzo grinned. "I like it. Turning the Dark Lord’s fortress into a wedding venue? That’s the ultimate power move."

Pansy huffed. "Fine. I’ll allow it. As long as you let me help decorate."

Mattheo chuckled. "You can do whatever you want, as long as I get to marry her at the end of it."

Your friends rolled their eyes at his lovesick tone, but the warmth in the room was undeniable. After everything—after war, pain, and uncertainty—you were finally talking about a future filled with love and hope.

And it was perfect.

The four of you were lounging in the Slytherin common room when the conversation turned to the upcoming Yule Ball. Theo and Enzo were discussing who they might ask when you casually sighed, stretching your arms over your head.

“Haven’t got a date yet,” you mused, your voice carrying a teasing lilt as you glanced at them.

There was a beat of silence before Mattheo turned to you, his brows furrowed. “What?”

You shrugged. “I said, I haven’t got a date yet.”

Mattheo’s frown deepened, looking genuinely confused. “What the hell do you mean you don’t have a date? You’re my girlfriend.”

You bit back a smirk. “Well, yeah,” you said smoothly, tilting your head at him. “But unless someone asks me, I don’t technically have a date, do I?”

Mattheo blinked at you, his mind clearly short-circuiting as he tried to process your words. “But… you’re going with me.”

You stood up, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips, your smirk widening when you pulled back. “Am I?” you whispered, before turning on your heel. “I’ll be in the library.”

With that, you walked off, leaving Mattheo sitting there, staring after you like you’d just spoken in Parseltongue.

“What the fuck just happened?” he muttered, completely lost.

Theo and Enzo exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.

“Oh, mate,” Theo said, shaking his head. “She wants you to ask her.”

Mattheo still looked confused. “But why? She knows she’s mine. Why do I need to ask?”

Enzo smirked. “Because she wants the grand gesture, obviously. She wants to be courted, you idiot.”

Realization finally dawned on Mattheo’s face, and then—almost instantly—his expression darkened with something entirely different. Possessiveness.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered, his jaw clenching. “If she thinks for even one second that someone else might try and take her—” He stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over. “I need to make sure everyone knows she’s mine.”

Theo laughed. “And what exactly are you gonna do?”

Mattheo’s lips curled into a dark smirk, his eyes gleaming with something mischievous. “I’m gonna make sure she never forgets who she belongs to.”

And with that, he stalked off, already planning something that would make sure no one even thought about asking you to the Yule Ball.

That evening, Mattheo sat in the common room, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he plotted. Theo and Enzo lounged nearby, watching with amusement as he scribbled something on a piece of parchment, crumpled it up, and then started again.

“She really got to you, huh?” Theo smirked, tossing a chocolate frog in the air and catching it with his mouth.

Mattheo didn’t even look up. “She thinks she can walk around saying she doesn’t have a date?” he muttered, shaking his head. “Nah. She’s about to get the grandest fucking invitation Hogwarts has ever seen.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow. “Just so we’re clear, this is a Yule Ball invitation, not a marriage proposal, yeah?”

Mattheo shot him a glare before refocusing on his task. He wasn’t just going to ask you—no, he was going to make damn sure that no one in this entire castle would dare even think about asking you first.

The next morning, you were making your way to the Great Hall for breakfast, completely unaware of what was waiting for you. As soon as you stepped inside, the entire room went silent.

Your brows furrowed. “What the—?”

Then, you saw it.

At the center of the Great Hall, hovering in midair for everyone to see, was an enormous banner made of swirling green and silver smoke, charmed to hover like a Dark Mark in the sky. But instead of a skull and serpent, the words spelled out:

Y/N L/N—YOU’RE MINE. MEET ME AT THE CLOCK TOWER AFTER CLASS. WE HAVE A BALL TO ATTEND.

– M.R.

Your jaw dropped.

The hall erupted into whispers, students staring between you and the display. The Gryffindor table looked horrified, while the Slytherins were either smirking or looking vaguely impressed.

At the far end of the room, you spotted Mattheo at the Slytherin table, leaning back lazily in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, smirking like he had just declared victory in battle. Theo and Enzo sat beside him, shaking their heads, clearly so done with his antics but enjoying the show nonetheless.

You exhaled through your nose, biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling. Of course he had to be dramatic about it. Of course he had to make sure everyone in the school knew who you belonged to.

With an exaggerated sigh, you shook your head and made your way over to him. The second you were close enough, Mattheo reached out, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you effortlessly into his lap.

"See, princess?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now everyone knows you have a date."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through your chest. "Possessive much?"

Mattheo grinned, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your neck, not caring that half the school was watching. “Obsessive,” he corrected. “No one else was even allowed to think about asking you.”

Theo, shaking his head, muttered, “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

Enzo just laughed. “This is why no one else even tries to compete with him.”

You turned to look at Mattheo, raising an eyebrow. "You do realize I was always going with you, right?"

Mattheo smirked. "Yeah, but I had to make sure no one else got any ideas." His grip on your waist tightened. "You're mine, Y/N. Always." His expression softened slightly. “Besides, I know you wanted the gesture and if it’s important to you then it’s important to me.”

You sighed dramatically but leaned down and kissed him anyway. “Lucky for you,” you murmured against his lips, “I like when you get possessive.”

His smirk grew. “Oh, princess, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

The Slytherin common room was unusually quiet when Mattheo, Theo, and Enzo stumbled through the entrance, adrenaline still pumping through their veins. The three of them were bruised and disheveled, fresh from a fight with a group of Gryffindors that had gotten way out of hand. Enzo was grinning like a maniac despite the blood trickling from his busted lip, while Theo clutched his ribs with a wince, muttering something about how "that bastard threw a punch like a damn troll."

Mattheo, for his part, was still seething. His knuckles were raw and bloodied, his breathing heavy, and the rage still lingered in his chest. But then he saw you.

You were curled up on one of the emerald-green couches by the fire, staring down at a piece of parchment with a miserable expression. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, eyes glossy, and the moment Mattheo really looked at you—really saw you—everything else became unimportant.

The fight? Forgotten. His throbbing fists? Irrelevant. His need to prove himself to those Gryffindor bastards? Completely erased.

Because you were upset. And that was the only thing that mattered.

Theo and Enzo were still laughing about the fight when Mattheo abruptly broke away from them and made a beeline toward you. They barely had time to register the shift in his demeanor before he was in front of you, crouching down, his hands resting on either side of your thighs as he peered up at you with concern.

“What’s wrong, princess?” His voice was softer than it had been all day, laced with worry, as if whatever was upsetting you was infinitely more important than anything else in the world.

You blinked up at him, startled by how fast he’d switched from Mattheo the fighter to Mattheo the overprotective boyfriend. Your gaze flickered to his bruised knuckles, and you frowned. “What happened to you?”

Mattheo barely glanced at his hands, waving off your concern like it was nothing. “Not important.” He reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking against your skin. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

From the couch nearby, Theo and Enzo exchanged looks of pure disbelief.

“Are you seeing this?” Enzo muttered under his breath, wiping the blood from his lip.

“Yeah,” Theo whispered back. “We were just literally brawling five minutes ago.”

“I watched him throw a guy into a wall.”

“Now he’s literally caressing her face like she’s a fucking angel.”

Meanwhile, you sighed, glancing down at the parchment in your lap. “I... I got my Charms exam back today,” you admitted, your voice small. “And I—well, I failed.”

Mattheo blinked. That’s it? He had been fully prepared to commit actual murder, but this? This was fixable.

Still, the moment he saw the self-doubt flicker in your eyes, the way you pulled your sleeves over your hands and curled into yourself, his heart clenched. He tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to look at him.

“Who do I need to kill?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Mattheo’s gaze darkened, but not with anger toward you—no, his fury was now directed at whoever was responsible for making you feel like this. “Was it someone in class? Did someone distract you and make you fail?” He cracked his knuckles, despite how much his hands already ached. “I swear to Merlin, I’ll handle it. Just say the word, princess.”

From behind, Theo snorted. “Mate, I think she’s upset at herself, not another person.”

Mattheo ignored him completely. “Or was it the professor? You want me to threaten them?” His voice was dead serious, eyes blazing. “I’ll make sure they never fail you again. Give me five minutes—I’ll be back before sunrise.”

Your lips parted in shock. “Mattheo—”

“Azkaban’s just a building, baby.”

“Mattheo, oh my God.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-groan, rubbing your temples as Mattheo’s intensity remained unwavering. But despite the ridiculousness of it, warmth bloomed in your chest. Because here he was—fresh out of a fight, bruised and bleeding—but he was more concerned about your failed exam than the fact that he had literally just assaulted a group of Gryffindors.

Seeing the slight smile tug at your lips, Mattheo exhaled in relief. He pulled you forward, wrapping you in his arms as he sat beside you on the couch. You melted into him, breathing in the scent of smoke, musk, and a hint of blood, letting his presence soothe you.

“You’re too hard on yourself, princess,” he murmured against your hair, his fingers trailing up and down your spine. “One bad grade doesn’t mean anything.”

You sighed. “But—”

“No ‘buts.’ You’re brilliant. You could fail every exam, and I’d still think you’re the smartest person in this castle.” His lips brushed against your forehead, lingering there for a second longer than necessary. “And the most beautiful.”

Theo groaned from the other couch. “You were literally beating the shit out of someone ten minutes ago, and now you’re whispering sweet nothings. I cannot handle this.”

Enzo nodded in agreement. “It’s actually sickening.”

Mattheo lifted his head just enough to glare at them. “Both of you, shut the fuck up.”

Theo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, we’re just impressed. You flip the switch so fast, it’s like its own form of magic.”

Enzo smirked. “We should’ve brought the Gryffindors here to witness this. They’d never believe it.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes but ignored them, choosing instead to tighten his hold around you. “Ignore those idiots,” he murmured. “I’m serious, princess. You’re incredible. And if you want, I can hex Flitwick’s tea so he starts grading on a curve.”

You giggled, finally feeling the weight of your bad grade start to lift. “You’re ridiculous.”

Mattheo smirked. “Only for you, baby.”

You sighed, letting yourself sink deeper into his embrace. Despite the bruises on his knuckles, the split on his lip, and the remnants of rage still simmering beneath his skin, Mattheo Riddle was yours. And no matter what, he would always be willing to go to war for you.

Even if that war was against your Charms professor.