#matteo riddle

[yourmum8609]

girls will look at a man and say “he’s just misunderstood” as he murders people

[bananaminn]

when u entered the fandom late so all of the fics were a year ago so now ur living off of scraps

[im-n-your-walls]

Just thinking about Down Bad Mattheo Riddle.          ╰┈➤<readers gender not specified> 

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle!  Whose sketchbooks are absolutely filled to the brim with sketches of you over and over, just trying to perfect your face and get it to at least half of the beauty of the real thing.

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who can’t help but stare at the back of your head in class until he gets accused of intimidation from the teachers. 

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who insists on carrying your bag and books in between classes. It doesn’t matter if you’re in different classes entirely he can be late, the teachers are used to it by now.

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle!  Who grins on the inside when you doodle on his pages or his arm. He purposely keeps his leaves rolled up to his elbows in hopes you want to doodle. I mean that and the hope you thirst over his popping veins but I digress.

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who hugs a pillow with one of your shirts as a pillow case just to ease his mind when going to sleep. He sometimes uses one of your cologne/ perfume bottles on it just to help.

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who can’t help but crack his knuckles and glare when he catches other guys looking at you, especially the griffindor assholes.

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who won’t hesitate to get on his knee to tie your shoe. Doesn’t matter where you are or what he’s holding, he has no hesitation whatsoever.

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who asks you to read to him. Reading was never one of his strong suits but he still loves the stories and hearing your beautiful voice illustrate the scenes for him is truly magical.

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who writes poems for you, or well attempts to. He’d never tell you he does, he’d rather jump into the black lake and drown then admit he does shitty poetry. especially if its dedicated to you

Down Bad Mattheo Riddle!  Who can't help but talk about you. You're always on his mind and he loves to share what he's thinking about. So obviously you come up for at least a sentence in every conversation he has. Whether it be a mention you'd like something or a place he plans to take you next you always come up.

@kodaswrld for the divider!!

A.n.gang should I start a tag list for this fandoms fics?

[multific]

The Slytherin Pact 

Summary: When Mattheo Riddle overhears Slytherins plotting against you, he makes a dangerous choice. In exchange for his protection, he demands your companionship, a pact that begins as a strategy but deepens into something neither of you could have predicted. 

The whispers followed you through the Slytherin common room, sharp and cutting as the flick of a blade.  

You had long grown used to them, but lately the glances had become colder, the laughter more purposeful.  That night, as you passed by the alcove near the stairwell, you caught your name in a hushed conversation. 

“Tomorrow. By the courtyard. She will not see it coming.” 

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself not to look back. 

What you did not notice was Mattheo Riddle, leaning lazily against the wall in the shadows, his sharp eyes catching every word. His jaw tightened, though his expression remained unreadable. 

The next day, he appeared beside you in the corridor as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

“You are far too trusting,” he drawled, his tone filled with mockery. “Do you always wander into traps with your eyes wide open?” 

You frowned, clutching your books tighter.  

“What are you talking about?” 

He leaned closer, his voice lowering to a whisper.  

“A handful of snakes with nothing better to do than plot your humiliation. You do not actually believe they were whispering about anyone else, do you?” 

“How do you know?” 

Mattheo smirked, though his eyes flickered with something sharper. “Because I heard them. And because, unlike you, I actually pay attention.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “So what, you decided to play hero?” 

“Hardly,” he said smoothly. “Let us call it an investment. I am offering you protection, but I expect something in return.” 

You scoffed. “Of course you do. What is it then, Riddle? My soul? Eternal servitude?” 

His lips curved, the faintest trace of amusement softening his features. “Companionship. Nothing more, nothing less. Stay by my side, and they will not dare touch you. You get safety, I get… well, someone who does not bore me senseless.” 

Your brow furrowed. “You want me to play at being your friend?” 

“Not play,” he replied, tilting his head. “Be.” 

Against your better judgment, you agreed. 

Not like you had any other options. It was either him or public humiliation... again. 

And true to his word, the whispers quietened. Where you went, Mattheo lingered.  

At meals, his chair scraped closer.  

In lessons, he stole your ink or passed you notes filled with dry commentary about the professors. At first, you bristled at the intrusion, but soon you caught yourself stifling laughter at his remarks, your irritation softening. 

One evening in the library, you spoke up, “You are impossible, you know that?” 

He smirked, lounging back in his chair. “And yet, here you are. Sitting with me instead of leaving.” 

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Because you will not leave me alone.” 

His gaze lingered a moment longer than usual. “Maybe. Or maybe you do not want me to.” 

Your heart skipped before you ducked your head, pretending to return to your book. 

It was weeks later when the mask cracked. 

You had stumbled upon him in the courtyard at night, sitting alone, a cigarette between his fingers. His expression was unreadable, far from the smirk he wore so easily in daylight. 

“You should not be out here,” you said gently. 

He glanced at you, then shrugged. “Neither should you.” 

You sat beside him despite his tone.  

Silence stretched before he finally said, “They will always hate me, you know. The Riddle name ensures it. People look at me and see him.” 

You swallowed, realising with a jolt that he was letting you see a part of him no one else did. “Then let them see wrong. You are not him.” 

He turned, eyes searching yours. “You say that so easily. As if you mean it.” 

“I do mean it,” you whispered. 

For once, Mattheo had no reply. He simply stared, the arrogance gone, leaving only something raw and unguarded. 

From then on, the pact shifted. It was no longer about safety or strategy. It was about you and him, the unspoken pull between you. 

He grew softer when no one else was looking, a brush of his hand against yours, a muttered goodnight that carried more weight than the word should. You grew bolder, teasing him back, laughing more easily when he smirked. 

One evening in the common room, he leaned close, his voice low.  

“Do you regret it? Making the pact?” 

You met his gaze steadily. “Not for a second.” 

Something broke in him then. He reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek as though testing a boundary. When you did not pull away, his lips met yours, the kiss slow and careful, as if he feared you might vanish. 

When he drew back, his forehead rested against yours.  

“You are mine now,” he whispered. “No pact, no bargain. Just mine.” 

“And you are mine.” 

The whispers never truly ceased, but it did not matter.  

With Mattheo’s hand in yours, the weight of the world felt lighter. 

What had begun as a pact of convenience had become the one thing you could not imagine losing. 

And Mattheo Riddle, who once claimed he wanted only companionship, had found something far greater in you. 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

[sophiariddlenott]

Wear My Name Pt.2

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: After Mattheo's anger gets the better of him, you're left heartbroken and crying. But when he realises the damage his words have done, he's determined to earn your forgiveness-even if it means swallowing his pride and apologising on his knees.

Warnings: Mentions of broken bone. Fluffy ending

A/N: Part 2 for everyone who's been asking! (I love pathetic Mattheo) Here is Part 1. Pictures from Pinterest.

Masterlist

————————————————————————

You stumbled out of the Quidditch locker room with tears in your eyes.

Everyone in Gryffindor was celebrating the win.

Everyone except you.

Mattheo had never spoken to you like that before. In the months you'd been dating him, he'd never been angry enough to shout, swear, and tell you to leave.

Ugly firsts.

Pansy caught up to you.

"Hey-woah. What happened? What did the bastard say to you?"

You shook your head.

"He... he doesn't want to see me right now."

"Well, did you tell him about the Butterbeer accident?"

You nodded.

"I did."

Your voice cracked.

"He didn't believe me."

Pansy's expression softened immediately.

"Hey... you know how he gets. When he's angry, he doesn't think straight. Theo and Mattheo have had thousands of fights, and they're still best friends."

She gently squeezed your arm.

"It's going to be okay, alright?"

You nodded, wiping your eyes.

"Yeah... I'm just gonna give him some space."

Pansy smiled reassuringly.

"Good call. Don't worry. That boy has it bad for you. He'll come to his senses soon enough."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

After returning Ron's jacket, you made your way back toward the castle.

As you stepped inside, you spotted Theodore awkwardly hopping on one leg, trying to reach the crutches that had fallen just out of his grasp.

"Theo?"

You hurried over, picking them up before handing them back.

"What are you doing?"

He grinned.

"Grazie, bella."

He took the crutches before studying your face.

"...Hey."

His smile faded.

"Have you been crying?"

You quickly looked away.

"I mean..." he continued, trying to lighten the mood, "you should be celebrating. Gryffindor won. If anything, I should be the one crying."

A weak laugh escaped you.

"Wanna tell me what happened?"

He led you toward the dorm he shared with Mattheo.

Thankfully, Mattheo wasn't back yet.

Once you'd both sat down, Theo looked at you expectantly.

"So?"

You fiddled with the sleeve of your jumper.

"Well..."

"You know how he was already in a bad mood this morning because you got injured."

Theo nodded.

"Yeah. He'd been pacing around the room all morning. I thought he was going to wear a hole through the floor."

You smiled faintly.

"I was wearing his jersey..."

"...but right before the match, Ron accidentally bumped into me and spilled Butterbeer all over it."

Theo frowned.

"...Right."

"And because wands weren't allowed after everything that happened last year, I couldn't clean it."

"I didn't have time to change, and I was sticky and freezing..."

"...so Ron lent me his jacket."

Theo blinked.

"...The jacket."

You nodded sheepishly.

"...The one with WEASLEY written across the back?"

You nodded again.

Theo winced.

"Yeah..."

"I'm guessing Mattheo wasn't exactly thrilled."

"No."

You looked down at your hands.

"He wasn't."

You swallowed.

"He kept looking up into the stands during the match..."

"...and every time he saw the jacket..."

You sighed.

"After they lost, I went to see him."

"And all that anger just..."

You snapped your fingers softly.

"...came out."

Your voice barely rose above a whisper.

"He told me he didn't want to see me anymore."

Theo's face immediately softened.

"Oh, bella..."

Without another word, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a gentle side hug.

"He's a bloody idiot."

You let out a watery laugh.

"I'll talk some sense into him, alright?"

You nodded.

"Thanks, Theo."

He smiled warmly.

"Anytime."

Just then, the dorm room door swung open.

Mattheo stepped inside.

His hair was still damp from the shower he'd taken after the match. His Quidditch bag slipped from one shoulder, looking as exhausted as he felt.

He froze the second he saw you.

You instinctively tensed.

Your shoulders stiffened.

You braced yourself.

"...Sweetheart?"

His voice was quiet.

Gentle.

Nothing like before.

For the first time since the match, he truly looked at you.

He noticed your red eyes.

The way your shoulders had curled inward.

The way you'd instinctively prepared yourself for him to be angry again.

His stomach dropped.

You weren't flinching because he'd raised his voice.

You were flinching because you'd expected him to.

The realization hit him harder than any Bludger ever could.

His Quidditch bag slipped from his shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud.

He didn't care if he looked pathetic or that Theo was watching. All he cared about was you.

He crossed the room in seconds before dropping to his knees in front of you.

He gently took your hands in his.

"Matty... what are you-?"

"I'm sorry."

His voice broke.

"So... so sorry."

He lifted your hand, pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

"I was angry."

He swallowed hard.

"But that's not an excuse."

"I had absolutely no right to take it out on you."

His grip trembled.

"I should've listened."

"I should've believed you."

"I should've trusted you."

"And I should never have shouted at you."

He finally looked up.

His eyes were filled with nothing but regret.

"Please..."

His voice barely came out.

"Please forgive me."

He rested his cheek against your palm, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability you'd never seen before.

Silence settled between you.

Finally...

You cupped his face.

"Of course I forgive you."

His shoulders sagged with relief before you gently continued,

"That's what partners do."

"I'm here for your bad days, Matty..."

"...but I'm not your punching bag."

His eyes immediately filled with guilt again.

"I know."

He nodded quickly.

"I know."

"And I swear on Salazar..."

"I will never, ever, ever let my anger out on you again."

"If I ever do..."

He took a shaky breath.

"You have my full permission to smack me as hard as you possibly can."

Click.

Both of you turned toward the sound.

Theo was balancing on one leg, a camera held triumphantly in his hands.

A smug grin spread across his face.

"Oh..."

He admired the photo.

"This..."

He looked between the two of you.

"...this is absolute peak blackmail material."

Mattheo groaned dramatically.

"Delete that picture, Nott."

Theo grinned wider.

"Or what?"

"I'll break your other leg."

Theo gasped theatrically.

"You'd assault an injured man?"

"I'd assault a very annoying man."

Theo clutched the camera protectively.

"Worth it."

You couldn't help it.

You laughed.

A real laugh this time.

Mattheo looked up at you, the tension finally melting from his face.

"There she is," he murmured softly.

"The smile I nearly lost."

You intertwined your fingers with his.

"Don't lose it again."

He smiled sadly before pressing a kiss against the back of your hand.

"I won't."

Ever again.

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Tag list - @pbjts @bunnieeegohop @mooniez @ithinkaboutyouuu @yourstargirlyyy

[roze-latte-zz]

Caught Red-Handed - Slytherine boys

Main masterlist || Navigation

The dungeons were always colder at night, but you barely noticed as you headed back toward the common room. You were ready to crash in front of the fire when familiar voices drifted out through the slightly open door.

You slowed, curiosity winning.

“…tell me I’m not the only one who can’t focus when she’s around,” Mattheo muttered.

Blaise’s laugh was smooth and low. “You’re definitely not. The way she bites her lip when she’s thinking? Drives me insane. I can’t look at her too long without imagining—”

Theo cut in, voice dark and flat, “—imagining what it’d be like to shut her up with a kiss.”

The boys chuckled, and your stomach lurched. They couldn’t be talking about you. Could they?

“Merlin, I swear, if she leans over the table like that again…” Mattheo groaned, dragging the words out. “The way her skirt rides up—”

“—you’d lose your mind?” Blaise teased.

“Already losing it,” Mattheo shot back.

You pressed your back against the wall, heart pounding.

Theo’s voice was calmer, but no less intense. “I notice her hands. Always fidgeting, always moving. Makes me wonder how they’d feel—” He cut himself off with a short laugh.

Blaise hummed thoughtfully. “Her laugh gets me. Every bloody time. She doesn’t even notice how much attention she steals. One smile, and half the room is staring.”

“Half?” Draco’s voice finally joined in, cool and clipped. “Try all. You think I don’t see it? Every corridor we walk down, every hall—people turn their heads. And she’s completely oblivious.”

Something in his tone made the others pause.

Theo smirked. “You sound jealous, Malfoy.”

“Not jealous,” Draco said, though his voice wavered almost imperceptibly. “Just tired of watching everyone else look at her like she’s theirs when—” He stopped short, sharp as if he’d bitten his own tongue.

“When she should be yours?” Blaise filled in smoothly, amused.

Draco didn’t answer.

Mattheo snorted. “Pathetic. We all think the same thing. We’re all bloody gone for her.”

“Maybe,” Theo admitted with a shrug. “But I’d wager I could make her choose me first.”

“Confident, aren’t you?” Blaise smirked.

Theo arched a brow. “Honest.”

Mattheo groaned again, throwing his head back. “If I don’t kiss her soon, I’ll actually lose my mind. Forget subtlety.”

“You’d scare her off,” Draco muttered.

“Better than sitting here doing nothing,” Mattheo shot back.

Your head spun. They were talking about you. All of them. Every word sent heat crawling up your neck, your face burning. You should have walked away, but your feet stayed rooted—until your shoulder brushed the stone wall too hard.

Scrape.

The sound echoed like a gunshot.

Silence.

Then a chair scraped inside.

The door swung open, and four sets of eyes landed on you.

“Well, well,” Blaise said first, grin widening. “Looks like we had an audience.”

Your face flamed. “I—I wasn’t—”

Theo gave a long, low whistle, eyes sweeping over you deliberately. “Busted.”

Mattheo leaned against the frame, smirk wicked. “Sweetheart, if you wanted to hear all the ways we think about you, you could’ve just asked.”

Mortification clawed up your throat. “I wasn’t listening! I just—”

“Oh, you were listening,” Blaise cut in silkily. “Every word.”

Draco stayed silent, but his eyes locked on you, unreadable.

Mattheo chuckled, giving another sharp whistle. “Look at her blush. Think she liked it.”

“I didn’t!” you protested, voice cracking.

Theo tilted his head, smirk dangerous. “Then why are you still standing here?”

Your heart thundered. You wanted to deny it, wanted to vanish, but their stares held you pinned.

“Adorable,” Blaise murmured, leaning back. “Absolutely adorable.”

And all you could do was burn under their laughter, mortified to your core—knowing you’d never be able to look at your friends the same way again.

[girllblogging777]

𝐴𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑀.ೃ࿐

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x fem reader (slight angst ? fluff) requested by @ilovematteoxx ♡

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.2k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you can’t find your boyfriend after an argument, and the castle is surrounded by dementors

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the argument had started over something small. ridiculously small, actually. you couldn’t even remember the details anymore, but somehow, the two of you had managed to let it escalate and before you knew it, mattheo and you were throwing sharp words like hexes.

your boyfriend, as loving as he was, had a way of getting under your skin sometimes. he was all about teasing smirks and cocky grins that usually made you laugh, but tonight you weren’t laughing. tonight, you were tired and on edge from a long week of classes and when he joked about you taking things too seriously, something inside of you snapped.

“not everyone has the luxury of not giving a damn, mattheo.” you’d answered with your arms crossed. “not everyone has parents who don’t care.”

the moment the words left your lips, you swore you could’ve felt the air shift. it was like time froze, everything suddenly stood still and went way too quiet. mattheo’s expression shifted, the usual soft gaze he saved for you disappearing. you saw how the hurt flickered in his dark eyes, before he quickly covered it with cold indifference.

“forget it,” he said sharply before walking out, turning his heel and disappearing out of the common room before you could even get a word out.

you stood there, frozen, the weight of your words slowly sinking in. merlin, you hadn’t meant it like that. in fact, you hadn’t meant to hurt him at all. but you had and now he was gone, and you didn’t even know where.

you couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the evening and as wandered around the castle - silently hoping you’d bump into him around the corner - the hallways felt emptier than ever. dinner passed in a blur too. every time someone entered the great hall and sat down at the slytherin table, you quickly looked up, only to realise it wasn’t him.

you spent the rest of the night alone in your dorm, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to get any sleep. your last conversation kept replaying in your head, what if you’d really hurt him this time ? what if he didn’t come back ? sure, mattheo had his walls, but he never stayed mad at you for long… your mind spiralled. outside the window, everything was dark and still. inside your heart, everything was twisted in knots.

and then, just as you were finally drifting off, a loud noise jolted you awake. it wasn’t just you either, you heard frantic footsteps outside your dorm, and voices raising as well. you sat up, heart pounding and confused. it wasn’t long before a frantic knock echoed through the door, and your best friend pansy came in.

“you have to get up, everyone is being taken to the great hall. now !” she said quickly. “what’s happening ?” you asked in a panicky tone as you got out of bed. “dementors,” she muttered, pulling you outside and rushing you to join the many students making their way through the dark halls. “they’ve been spotted outside.”

your heart skipped a beat. dementors.

the crowd of students rushed to the great hall, tension filling the air, already thick with worry and whispers. you scanned the faces around, searching for any signs of mattheo. but he wasn’t there. he wasn’t anywhere.

“pansy,” you breathed, tugging on her sleeve as realisation dawned on you. “i don’t see mattheo. where is he ?”

she shrugged, concern flickering in her eyes “don’t know, i haven’t seen him since this afternoon”

you swallowed hard, your chest tightening. where was he ? the last time you saw him was when he’d left after the argument, angry and hurt. what if he was outside when the dementors had left ? what if… what if the last thing you said to him was the stupid comment about his father ?

your breathing picked up and theo noticed it from across the room, before making his way over. “what’s going on ?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“i can’t find mattheo,” you whispered with a trembling voice. “we had a fight earlier and now he’s probably out there, and-“

theo exchanged a knowing look with pansy before cutting you off by gently pulling you into a reassuring side hug “he’s fine, amore. probably just running late, you know him, always slipping off to do merlin knows what.”

but you weren’t reassured. not when the castle was in lockdown. it when dementors were around. not when mattheo was nowhere to be seen, and the last thing he heard from you was something you didn’t mean.

“i didn’t mean it,” you whispered with regret. pansy rubbed your back to comfort you but it didn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you reached the great hall. the place was crowded with panicked students and teachers, but you still felt terribly alone in your world of fear.

“i shouldn’t have said it,” you choked out, wiping your eyes and ignoring the people running around and bumping into you. “i shouldn’t have-“

before you could finish, a heavy sound echoed through the hall. the giant wooden doors swung open with a gust of cold air, and every head turned toward the entrance.

mattheo stood in the doorway, along with some others students you didn’t even glance at. his curly hair was damp with the rain, and his robes slightly disheveled. he looked like he’d been through a storm, but he was there.

without thinking, you ran. you pushed through the crowd, not caring who you bumped into, your heart racing as you closed the distance between you. by the time you reached him, a tear had managed to roll down your cheek, but you didn’t care. you threw yourself into his arms, your hands fisting his robes as you breathed him in.

“mattheo,” you gasped, holding onto him like he might disappear. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean it, i swear i didn’t mean it.”

his arms came around you immediately, pulling you close, his chin resting on top of your head. “hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “it’s okay, love. i’m not mad.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your slightly red eyes searching his face. “you’re not?”

he shook his head, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “no. i just… needed some time. but i’m not mad. i promise.”

you bit your lip, trying to stop the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you again. “i thought—i thought something happened to you. i was so scared.”

mattheo’s gaze softened, and he wiped the tears away with his thumb. “i’m sorry i scared you. i shouldn’t have just left like that.”

you shook your head quickly, you knew your boyfriend’s habit of walking out during arguments was just to help manage his anger. it was something he’d started doing when he realised you were the only good thing in his life, and he didn’t want to take his negative feelings out on you.

“no, it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have said what i did.” he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “it’s okay,” he whispered. “i’m here. i’m not walking away this time.”

for the first time that night, you felt the tightness in your chest ease. the panic, the fear, it all melted away in his arms, replaced by the steady, grounding warmth of his presence. “nice pajamas by the way,” he chuckled, and you rolled your eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[mwinor]

His Home

──────── ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚────────

Warmth filled every particle of your body. It seemed to you that even if it started snowing now, you would still feel just as warm. His knees seemed softer than any other pillow, and from the feeling of his hair in your fingers it became easier to breathe. You were literally dissolving in his arms, praying that no one would take him away from you. His breath pleasantly warmed your neck, and the weight of his head on your shoulder reminded you of the heaviness of his burden and tiredness. He was your soft toy that you hugged. And you were his salvation. His shelter. His warm bed after a tired day. It seemed to him that he was about to fall and fall asleep on your bed. He would really cry if someone took this feeling away from him. All of this made you sleepy. And no sex.

After school and all his things, he comes to you and silently hugs you, sitting you on his knees. Sometimes he talks about his day or listens to you. It seems to him that he would have gone crazy if not for all of this.

Sometimes he really cries. Hides his face in your shoulder and cries. He doesn’t know where else he would feel so comfortable and pleasant showing all his emotions and letting out all his feelings through salty water. He knows that you will never judge him.

Matteo really wasn’t an open person, however, he showed his thoughts and feelings well through touches and looks. When he took your hand, it meant that he was tired or worried. When he looks at you during another breakdown, he is begging you not to leave him. But he will never admit it.

Drugs changed his life for the worse. But you became his first harmless drug, the one he would never want to give up. Even if he were kicked the hell out of Hogwarts.

At night, he always keeps you close if there is such a chance. He runs away from the dormitory, sneaks into your separate prefect room, and sits watching you do your homework. Sometimes he asks you to sit next to him and hugs you, looking into your parchment for Herbology.

He doesn’t need words. He needs you.