The Riddle of Us *Mattheo x Reader*

Chapter 18 Fixing Shit

QoC: "There's nothing wrong with me"

Mattheo's POV

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The bell rang for third period just as Mattheo was walking in. Bloody hell. He'd forgotten his textbook for Intro to Magical Medicine.

"Professor Shirley, I left my textbook in my common room. May I go and fetch it?" he asked, already slightly breathless.

"Yes, you may," she replied, giving him a pointed look. "Just try to remember next time. This is the second occasion."

"I will, thank you!" he called over his shoulder, already turning on his heel and striding out of the room. His feet carried him quickly through the corridors, down into the dungeons.

"Serpentine," he muttered when he reached the blank stretch of wall. A stone serpent slithered out of the floor and coiled upwards, revealing the hidden entrance. Mattheo stepped through and descended the winding staircase into the Slytherin common room.

He hadn't expected to see anyone—most people were in class. But as he reached the bottom, he saw two things.

First, his textbook—lying open on a table near one of the few fireplaces.

And second—Y/n. Curled up on the emerald green sofa, knees to her chest, face buried in her arms. She was crying.

Mattheo froze.

He hadn't spoken to her properly since the kiss. That stupid, fleeting, meaningless kiss he wished had never happened. Or at least, that's what he told himself. Yet it haunted him—lingering in his mind like it had a will of its own, demanding attention he didn't want to give.

She didn't feel anything from it. She couldn't. She was her. And he was—well, him. The Dark Lord's son. Not exactly the perfect catch.

So he'd distanced himself. Pulled away to protect himself. To avoid feelings.

But still... she was his friend.

And right now, she was crying.

So he crossed the room and sat beside her.

"Y/n," he said softly.

Her head snapped up. Clearly, she hadn't realised anyone else was there. Her eyes were red and puffy—but beyond that, something swam in them. Hurt. Betrayal. And something darker. Something unfamiliar.

"What—come to gloat?" she snapped.

"Gloat?" he blinked. "Y/n, what happened?"

"Since when do you care?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly on the word care. "You've been avoiding me all week."

He opened his mouth, searching for an excuse, but she raised a hand to cut him off.

"Don't insult my intelligence, Riddle. I'm not stupid," she said sharply.

"I never said you were. Y/n, please—tell me what's wrong. I can fix it," he said, tilting his head to look at her. A few strands of her y/c/h hair had fallen into her eyes.

She scoffed. "Why don't you go ask Parkinson? I'm sure she'd love to give you every little detail."

With that, she pushed herself up and stormed off towards the girls' dormitory.

"Y/n—Y/n, wai—" But her footsteps faded quickly, disappearing completely up the stairs.

Mattheo sat there, annoyed with himself.