summer solstice - mattheo riddle
summary: every year on the spring equinox, pureblooded parents begin plotting their newly adult children's marriage, and on the summer solstice, the engagements are announced. finally 18, you and your friends begin panicking, hoping for bearable fiancés. but those who have the power to turn the court in their favour decide to pull a few strings. wc: 3.7k cw: discussions of arranged marriages, discussions of power imbalances, Tom Riddle is alive but not in the voldemort way - no war au, mentions of r! coming from an important family.
The spring equinox marked a dreadful time of year for purebloods across the globe. Parents engaged with each other to arrange marriages between their children, only newly turned adults. Those who weren’t deemed worthy of marrying anyone faced the shameful consequences from their parents and were encouraged to find a partner for their own. It was a dream. It was also a nightmare. Grateful not to be married so young; horrified that no one had entertained the idea of betrothing their children.
As the earth did its last turn around the sun, you were all brought to your final year of freedom, the cages of marriage awaiting you after graduation. This spring, you and your friends were all wrenched away from the throes of freedom, thrown into the games known as family affairs, each of the sacred 28 fighting to have the purest, most successful bloodline.
It was easy to say that finally at the legal age to get married, you were all beginning to panic.
For years, your friend group had gathered together on the spring equinox, discussing every candidate you thought may be brought together as a result of wealthy parents’ business tactics, discussing who was right for which suitor. Three months of thrilling build-up, watching as heirs of successful families were flirted with by women they’d never spoken to before. Observing closely as daughters of powerful purebloods were approached by potential husbands for clandestine encounters in the corners of the castle.
It was funny to watch — women never had a choice in who they would marry, unlike their male counterparts, so unlike the businessmen, most of them had fun. You and Pansy had caught the discussions in the bathrooms from older students, exchanging details about the men who'd made moves on them. Good kisser, not enough for me to want to marry him though, someone would say.
Then, on the summer solstice, when all the engagements were officially announced, you would sit with your jaws on the floor at the odd pairings these parents had come up with. It was never too surprising once you thought about it – success never wandered too far off. You were grateful for that to a certain degree; at least your family status would ensure you didn’t end up with disappointments – with men you hadn’t met before at galas and countless events.
Now, as the winds around you collided to form masses of tension that followed you across the castle, into the common room, you had no choice but to stress until the announcements were made on the morning of the summer solstice, just over six fortnights away. Blaise kept you company in the empty common room, the tormenting thoughts roaming your disturbed minds gracing you with their strangling presence. Neither of you were ready to be betrothed to anyone you’d only made polite conversation with, turning away from the painful exchange to forget their names on the spot.
“This is utterly ridiculous. I can’t marry anyone but Pansy, I don’t know what I’d do.” Your loud laugh cut Blaise off, and he turned to glare at you furiously, a rage of heartbreak and betrayal gathering in his gut. “What, you think it’s funny? I’m in love with her! She’s your best friend, how could-”
“Blaise. I’m not laughing because you and Pansy are in love. Jesus, she’s my best friend. If I had to watch her get married to anyone else, I’d probably kill someone. I’m laughing because you’re stupid.”
Turning momentarily to stare into the fire, you sighed, the flames dancing in the irises of your eyes. Your voice was quiet, and despite the equality between you and Blaise, the fairness and challenge that had formed your friendship, your words still spoke volumes of where you stood in the social hierarchy.
“Blaise, you’re a man.”
Silence.
“You get a say in things. You could walk up to your mother and tell her you want to make a request to marry Pansy - and done! You guys are engaged!” Blaise’s mouth open and shut at the realisation that you were in fact right. He felt his face go hot at the prospect that he may actually get to marry the love of his life, but his joy was short lived. He was aware of what that meant for you.
“I’m not a man.” You continued, hugging your knees closer to you. “My parents can go talk me up to families and give them the idea that I would be the perfect wife, but that wouldn’t matter. If my name doesn’t strike attention, or my reputation isn’t strong enough, I will not be a candidate for anyone. But if my family is important enough and I’ve lived up to everything my parents have ever said of me, requests for my hand in marriage will be piling up from all sorts of families and I… I don’t know what would be worse, having to marry a man I hate or not being asked for my hand in marriage at all!”
Blaise put a hand on your shoulder, tugging you in closer to him so you could rest on your head on his shoulder. He knew the first option was out of the question; he’d seen the way parents huddled in corners of galas, trying not to point you out as you made conversation with others, laughing where polite, your manners impeccable. And your name? Well, it spoke for itself. But Blaise knew the second option scared you even more, so he opted away from trying to comfort you.
“It’ll be okay. As long as you don’t marry Pucey. Imagine having that last name.”
Over the next couple of weeks, the tensions in the friend group only increased. Even Pansy — who already had an invisible band encircling her ring with Zabini’s name on it — was stressing. What if the deal between their families didn’t work out? But while Theo, Draco and Mattheo let their parents take their marriages into their hands for them, occasionally discussing potential wives, you had to sit down in complete cluelessness, unaware of any details that would tie your future together.
Not a single owl kept you in the loop of your own life.
Boys in your year group whom you’d never spoken to came up and made small talk, and while you prayed none of them would be your future husbands, you smiled at them sweetly and took part in their conversations, placing a gentle hand on their arm, aware of the effect it had on them. But eyes lingered on you as you entertained conversations with these boys, none of which were worthy enough of marrying you.
At least, that’s what it seemed to the man who busied himself by studying you, keeping an eye on how you averted your gaze to your lap every time this same discussion was brought up again. How your throat bobbed slightly when the conversation became too difficult for you to bear, but you forced an unbothered expression on your face.
Mattheo Riddle couldn’t stop analysing you, whether he could help it or not. He just seemed to care too much about his friends. At least, that’s what he told those around him.
Unbeknown to you, one late night in their dorm, Mattheo told Theo, Draco and Blaise “I’m thinking of asking my father to put in a betrothal request to y/n’s parents.” The boys all stopped what they were doing at the confession, a silence overtaking the dark room as three pairs of eyes turned to stare at their friend. “Even if she doesn’t have a romantic interest in me, she’s one of my best friends, and I think we’d be happier married to each other than to random strangers.”
Theo pushed himself off on his bed, adding “Also, you have a massive crush on her.” Mattheo ignored his best friend’s comment, well aware that his repetitive excuses had never convinced Theo, so he averted his attention to his other two dorm mates. “Are you going to tell her, or just do it without saying anything?” Asked Draco, putting his book down on the bed beside him as he squinted his eyes in suspiciously.
“I’d tell her first. Well, ask her. If she doesn’t like the idea, I obviously won’t go along with it.”
“I think it’s a good idea.” Spoke Blaise, fingers twitching next to him to write to Pansy about the conversation. He had to tell her, but Mattheo would hate him if the information got to you from anyone other than him. Mattheo’s stare was desperate, eager, hopeful for Blaise to give him more information. “She was telling me how scared she was to marry someone she doesn’t know well. And that she’s worried that she can’t to anything about it. I think she’d be happy to be engaged to a friend. Someone she trusts.”
Mattheo nodded silently, trying to hide his smile by turning the attention back to Blaise. “So has the arrangement with Pansy been sorted?”
“Yeah. She doesn’t know yet though. I’m going to properly propose to her before the announcements are out. Y/n’s going to help me find a ring.”
Theo groaned in a mix of jealousy and frustration, digging his head into his pillow. “I can’t get married! I’m in my prime!” And the silence that greeted him told him exactly what he needed to know. Everyone agreed. They were all too young, they were all in their prime. None of them wanted to get married.
Well, aside from Blaise.
When Mattheo found you in the common room the next day, your essay was laid out on the table in front of you, left untouched. It was clear to him that you were stressing again, and he felt a pang of hurt in his chest for you. Mattheo stilled by the stairs to the dormitories, legs defying his will to move closer to you. He didn’t know why he was suddenly nervous to do this. Just twenty minutes ago, this had seemed like the most logical explanation. An offer you’d say yes to in a heartbeat. But now? Mattheo wasn’t so sure.
Mattheo Riddle was not one to handle rejection well, even in the guise of a plan to save yourselves from an unwritten prophecy. But Mattheo had made his decision, and he wouldn’t back down from the opportunity.
He made himself known by sitting down next to you on the rug, a dangerous silence only he could muster alerting you of his presence. You glanced at him, smiling softly. “Can I talk to you about something?” Nodding, you dropped your quill onto the blank parchment and closed your bottle of ink. At least now you had an excuse for not getting any work done.
“Are you okay?” Mattheo almost laughed at your question. If anyone should have been asked this question, it was you. “I’m okay, are you?” You gaze followed his arm, watching as he reached out to gently place it on your arm, caressing your soft skin.
“Yeah, considering.” Mattheo distracted himself by looking around, at the friends chattering in corners or even new couples, mingling at their parents’ demand. He glanced over at where the rest of your friend group stood hidden under a staircase whilst sharing a cigarette, pretending not to be staring at you. Well, apart from Pansy, who did so shamelessly.
“Uh, so I was thinking.” He began, and you raised your eyebrows at him with a teasing smile. His hand curled over your shoulder, just resting there, and he sighed, shutting his eyes momentarily to ready himself for rejection.
A quiet call of his name had him clearing his throat, looking back up at you. You reached out to cup his cheek, caressing his face with your thumb. His eyes threatened to close, and he leaned into your touch, trying to push out the thought that this interaction may destroy your friendship forever. “You may not like this idea,” He added, looking deeply into your eyes. “But I was thinking of telling my father I’m interested in marrying you.” With the hand Mattheo had on your shoulder, you were sure that he felt the way your breath hitched if he hadn’t already heard it.
“You know,” He continued, swallowing thickly. “You’re one of my best friends, and I know I’d rather marry you than anyone else. You obviously don’t have mmph-” Mattheo was interrupted by the breath being knocked out of his chest as you launched yourself onto him to wrap your arms over his shoulders. His shoulders tensed slightly before sagging in relief, bringing his arms around you to return your hug.
“You’d do that?” You asked weakly, finally finding your voice again. He nodded, hands resting on your lower back, his heart fluttering at you grateful you sounded. “Of course.” His voice suddenly shifted from the caring tone he had as he added a snide remark.
“I’m not doing this for you, you know.”
You dismissed his words as you dug your face into his neck, knowing he was getting defensive at the prospect of being thought of as kind, even to his best friend. Mattheo prayed you didn’t feel the way his pulse raced at the proximity between you, but he didn’t dare break away from the hug just yet, longing to keep you close even for one brief moment.
When you pulled away, staring at Mattheo with a relieved smile, you finally regained bits of your personality as you added teasingly “So what I’m hearing is you’ve just asked me to marry you.” Mattheo scoffed, pushing you away from him by the shoulder. He held himself back from making a comment that it might not happen anyway, but you both knew the truth; Riddles were the most reputable family in wizarding history. Anyone would jump at the opportunity to marry their daughters off to the heir of the Riddle empire. So instead, he smiled, pressing a friendly kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone in the common room.
From across the room, three boys broke away from their smoking session to follow Mattheo up the stairs, leaving Pansy to approach you until she took the spot on the couch behind you. When you finally found the courage to tell a knowing Pansy what had happened, she only responded with “Plus you’ve liked him forever, so...”
“I have not!” But she only rolled her eyes. “Well you better start, because you’re going to be marrying him.”
And start, you did.
Or, if Pansy was correct, you had already started a while ago. Nonetheless, it seemed that ever since you and Mattheo had agreed to marry each other, your dynamic had changed. Following every playful insult, or friendly banter, a silence overtook you, shy glances exchanged between you before one of you made a joke to break the silence. It continued for painful weeks, both of you unaware of the life changing day Tom Riddle approached your father, slipping his son’s name in conversation.
Blissfully blind that behind the scenes, your parents scrambled to get ready for a dinner with the Riddles, putting their best impression to talk you up to the Dark Lord. The most powerful man in the wizarding world. They weren’t aware that Tom Riddle had already made his choice, nor that he would slide an envelope across the table at the end of dinner, a rare smirk playing on his lips as your parents realised he had made his decision long before inviting them for dinner.
“We’ll find out tomorrow,” Started Draco on the night before the spring equinox, “If everything went to plan.”
He stared blankly at Pansy and Blaise, who were cuddled up on a love seat. Pansy already had beautiful ring around her finger, and she hummed mindlessly as she spun it around her finger with a small smile. She didn’t have a single worry in the world. She was already engaged. But for the rest of you?
Nothing was guaranteed.
Draco didn’t know if he would marry Astoria, the friendly, intelligent woman who shared most of his classes — the woman he had caught feelings for. Theo didn’t know if his parents would choose an attractive woman who would get along with you and Pansy, his best female friends. If they hadn't, he would refuse to marry her.
No one knew anything.
Mattheo squeezed your hand in his, and you let your head fall on his shoulder. You didn’t miss the pointed looks your friends shot you, but you ignored them, staring straight into the fire in front of you. The smitten boy beside you didn’t notice their expressions, too busy staring at you with hope in his eyes. He trusted his father, but he couldn’t help the worry that engulfed him.
Mattheo didn’t notice when their discussions and manifestations ended, nor that your friends filtered out of the common room, leaving you alone with him in a deafening silence. “Mattheo?” You finally spoke, many minutes later, causing the curly haired boy to turn his attention to you. His gaze flickered around, and only then did he notice the absence of your friends. That explained the lack of chatter around you.
Mattheo’s face was drowned in concern, worries that the arrangement between you may not work out reflecting on his face clearly. It seemed that his genetic Riddle arrogance was fading away at the possibility of you being stolen away from him to a cruel fate.
“Um, I want you to know that even if we end up betrothed to different people, I’ve-” Mattheo was staring at you so intensely that you had to gulp, taking a long pause between your words. He leaned in closer to hear you better, whispering so quietly in fear of the words that were coming out of your mouth. “I think I like you more than a friend. I think I have for a while.”
Mattheo cupped your face in one large hard, his other brushing stray stands of hair away from your face. He observed you for a long moment, taking his time to put himself together. His heart raced, and Mattheo had to inhale deeply before speaking so his words didn’t come out shaky. “I didn’t just ask you to marry me because you’re my best friend. I asked you because I wanted to marry someone I had romantic feelings for.”
You placed a hand over the one Mattheo had on your face, leaning into his touch as you inhaled deeply, eyes almost watering in relief. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He said confidently, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips against yours, a satisfied sigh falling from your lips. Leaning in closer to Mattheo, you parted your lips, licking at his bottom lip desperately. Mattheo broke apart from the kiss, a smug smile on his face. The Riddle ego had come flooding back. You felt heat rush to your face in humiliation.
“I’ll give you a proper kiss when you’re guaranteed to be my wife.”
And somehow, that made you feel better. As though you were definitely getting married.
You and Mattheo sat in the same position the next morning in the great hall, hands clasped together underneath the table. The hall was tense with a sense of dread radiating off students, most of whom were sat alongside you at the slytherin table. Mattheo bumped his knee against yours as owls flew into the hall, envelopes of all colours representing each pureblooded family with their crest engraved in wax seal at its front.
You stared at your friends as envelopes dropped in front of all of you, an inexplicable sense of dread overwhelming you. Blaise nonchalantly opened his letter, Pansy looking over his shoulder as her cheek rested on her fiancé’s shoulder. At the subtle nod of Blaise’s head as he discarded the letter, you knew everything had gone to plan. But would that be the case for you? For all your friends?
“Are you going to open it?” Whispered Mattheo, looking at you intensely. Nodding, you lifted your shaky hands to open the envelope in front of you, chewing on your lip nervously. Mattheo mimicked your movements, reaching for his. You hadn’t told Pansy about the kiss you and Mattheo shared last night, in hopes not to jinx your chances. In some wild belief that everything would suddenly fall into place.
You glanced towards Mattheo once last night before averting your eyes to the long letter in front of you. Reading through the message from your parents, you let out a heavy sigh at the name revealed on the thick parchment, clasping one hand on your chest as you dropped the thick parchment into the plate in front of you.
‘Welcome to the Riddle family, the letter had been signed at the bottom.
Tom Riddle’
Mattheo’s reaction wasn’t as elaborate as yours, a soft smile tugging his lips upward, as though he already new this would happen. After all, who could say no to Riddles, the most powerful family in the wizarding world? A hand grasped your cheeks, quickly turning your face sharply to face Mattheo as he slammed his lips against yours. You squeaked quietly at the sudden movement, shutting your eyes and relaxing against him as he moved his arm to support your back, the other one resting on your cheek.
He kept his promise, forcing his tongue into your mouth and gliding it against yours in a prominent display of affection that had your cheeks going hot. When he parted from you, your eyes were wide and you were panting softly, eyes immediately drawn to the letter on the table, averting your gaze from any of the students around you who were clearly complaining about the affection at the breakfast table.
The rest of your friends seemed happy enough with their decisions, because the second Mattheo turned to look at them with a proud smile, he was met with wide grins and unhindered chuckles. When you gathered the courage to glance upwards, Pansy smiled cheekily, giving you a wink, and you assumed that somehow she already knew that you had both kissed last night. Clearing your throat, you watched as Mattheo shoved a parcel into his pocket, the size of a small, square box, nodding towards a girl at the end of the table who ran out of the great hall clutching a red envelope in her hand to distract you.
“Red,” Theo stated, grimacing, “That’s the Pucey colour.”
