scribbles - m.r x reader - ch3
(this is a series, all ch's linked here !)
summary - dash&lily!au, mattheo and reader communicate through a book. this chapter is they get just a little bit closer.
word count - above 2k
a/n - a bit more than just dares this ch, sorryyyy for the wait omg
The library was quieter than usual, with the soft scratch of quills and the distant rustle of pages filling the air. You glanced over your shoulder, making sure Madame Pince wasn’t lurking around a corner. The journal was tucked under your arm, the edges slightly bent from how often it had been passed between you and ‘Mystery Guy’.
You slid into the Literature section, your feet making no sound on the old wooden floor, and crouched down to the spot where “A Farewell to Arms” used to sit. Your fingers brushed the spine of the journal as you placed it in its hiding place.
“Interesting book you’ve got there,” a voice drawled behind you, startling you so badly you nearly knocked over an entire row of books.
You turned sharply, clutching the journal to your chest, and came face to face with Lorenzo Berkshire.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” he grinned, leaning lazily against the bookshelf. His curly brown hair was as messy as ever, and there was a glint of mischief in his dark eyes. “Go on. Tuck it back into its little hiding spot.”
Your mouth opened, closed, then opened again, but no words came out.
“Don’t look so guilty,” another voice chimed in, and now Theodore Nott rounded the corner, his hands in his pockets and an amused expression on his face. “We’re not going to snitch. Just curious.”
You straightened up, narrowing your eyes. “Curious about what?”
Enzo gestured toward the journal still clutched in your hands. “About the fact that you’re Mattheo’s penpal.”
Your heart nearly stopped. “I’m what?”
“Oh, come on.” Theo smirked. “We’ve seen that thing before. Mattheo thinks he’s sneaky, but he’s not that sneaky.”
“And you’re here, putting it in the exact spot he’s been disappearing to for weeks,” Enzo added, tilting his head. “Not a hard puzzle to put together.”
Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting. You weren’t sure what was worse—the fact that you’d been caught, or the fact that they’d just casually told you who Mystery Guy was like it wasn’t a massive bombshell.
“I—uh—”
Enzo cut you off with a wicked grin. “Relax, it’s cute. The way you’ve got him running around doing all your dares? Hilarious. You’ve got no idea how grumpy he gets when you out-dare him. It’s practically a sport now.”
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “He’s not that grumpy,” you muttered defensively.
“Oh, trust me, he is,” Theo said dryly. “But he loves it. Never seen him so invested in anything that didn’t involve pissing off Snape or sneaking Firewhiskey into the dorms.”
You swallowed hard, trying to process. They were just standing there, talking about him like it was normal, while you were spiraling at the revelation. Mattheo Riddle. Mystery Guy was Mattheo Riddle. Mattheo Riddle. Mattheo Riddle.
And now you knew.
“I’ve got to go,” you said quickly, shoving the journal back into its spot and brushing past them before they could say anything else.
By the time you got back to your dorm, your heart was still racing. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the blank page of your notebook. What were you supposed to say to him now?
After what felt like an eternity, you finally picked up your quill.
To Mystery Guy (or should i say Mattheo?), So, funny thing happened. I might’ve run into a couple of your friends. They were nice enough to tell me who you are. (Don’t freak out—your secret’s safe with me. For now.)
Let me just say, you’re… not what I expected. But maybe that’s a good thing. You’re kind of an enigma, and I think I like it that way.
Yours, The Penpal Who Knows Too Much
Satisfied, you tucked the letter into the journal the next morning, placing it in its usual spot. And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but smile.
Mattheo Riddle had no idea what he was in for.
𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯
Mattheo leaned back in his chair, one boot propped on the edge of the Slytherin common room table. His wand twirled lazily between his fingers, but his sharp gaze flicked toward Lorenzo and Theo as they strolled in, their expressions a little too smug for his liking.
“What’s with the looks?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Oh, nothing,” Enzo said, plopping down on the couch across from him with a theatrical sigh.
“Definitely nothing,” Theo added, his lips twitching as he sat beside Enzo.
Mattheo’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. You both look like you’ve got something to say, so just spit it out.”
Enzo exchanged a glance with Theo, his grin widening. “Well, since you’re so curious… we saw her.”
Mattheo’s wand stilled mid-spin. “Her who?”
Theo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know who.”
“I really don’t,” Mattheo said flatly, though his stomach flipped. He kept his expression neutral, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.
“Your penpal,” Enzo said, dragging out the word like it was some kind of joke.
Mattheo sat up straighter, his casual demeanor slipping. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on,” Enzo said, waving a hand. “Don’t act like you’re not dying to know who she is. We saw her in the library yesterday.”
Mattheo’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to scoff. “Yeah, sure. And I’m supposed to believe you just happened to run into her?”
“We didn’t just run into her,” Theo said, smirking. “We watched her put your precious little journal back in its spot.”
Mattheo’s jaw tightened. “You watched her?”
“Relax, mate,” Enzo said, holding up his hands. “It wasn’t creepy. We were just… observing.”
Mattheo narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping. “What does she look like?”
Enzo grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Why? Getting jealous already?”
Mattheo glared at him. “Answer the question.”
“She’s… cute,” Theo said with a shrug, his tone deliberately nonchalant.
“More than cute,” Enzo added with a wicked grin. “You’ve got good taste, Riddle.”
Mattheo’s grip on his wand tightened. He tried to ignore the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest. “That’s not what I asked.”
“Oh, come on,” Enzo said, leaning back and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “We’re just saying. She looked… surprised, though. Probably didn’t expect us to figure it out.”
Mattheo’s mind raced. If they’d seen her, that meant she now knew they’d made the connection. Did she know that he didn’t know who she was?
“Did you talk to her?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
Enzo’s grin turned devious. “A little. Not much. But enough to see why you’re so into this whole letter thing.”
Mattheo clenched his jaw. “I’m not ‘into’ it.”
“Oh, really?” Theo drawled, raising a brow. “Then why do you get all moody whenever she takes too long to write back?”
“Shut up,” Mattheo snapped, but his tone lacked heat.
“Admit it,” Enzo said, leaning forward. “You like her. And now that we’ve seen her, we get it.”
Mattheo didn’t respond, his thoughts too tangled. All he could think about was the fact that they’d seen her—that they knew who she was, and he didn’t.
For the first time in his life, Mattheo Riddle hated being in the dark.
Later that evening, Mattheo sat alone in his dorm, staring at the journal in his hands. The last note she’d written replayed in his mind, her teasing tone now carrying a weight he hadn’t noticed before.
“Funny thing happened. I might’ve run into a couple of your friends. They were nice enough to tell me who you are.”
She knew. And she wasn’t going to tell him.
Mattheo’s lips twitched, half a grin and half a grimace. “Alright, mystery girl,” he muttered. “You win this round.”
The next day, Mattheo couldn’t focus on anything. Potions class, which usually held his attention (mainly because he could annoy Snape just enough to avoid detention), passed in a blur. His mind was stuck on her—on who she was.
And on the fact that Enzo and Theo were being maddeningly smug about it.
“Mate, you’re going to chop your own finger off if you keep cutting like that,” Theo muttered under his breath as he passed Mattheo’s table, dropping a few flobberworms into his cauldron.
Mattheo blinked down at the violently uneven roots he’d been dicing. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Enzo chimed in from his station, grinning like the absolute menace he was. “But hey, if you’re distracted, we all know why.”
“Enzo,” Mattheo said in a low warning tone.
“What? I didn’t say anything!” Enzo raised his hands in mock innocence, but his smirk stayed firmly in place.
Snape’s voice sliced through the air. “Riddle, Berkshire—perhaps you’d like to share what’s so amusing with the rest of the class?”
“No, sir,” Mattheo and Enzo said in unison, though Enzo’s grin widened, and Mattheo felt the urge to smack him.
Snape’s glare lingered on them for a beat longer before he turned back to his lecture. Mattheo shot Enzo a warning glance, but Enzo only winked at him.
By the time the class ended, Mattheo was wound tight with irritation and curiosity. As the students began packing up their things, he grabbed Enzo by the sleeve, dragging him into a quieter corner of the dungeon hallway. Theo followed, clearly eager to see how this would unfold.
“Alright, you two,” Mattheo said, his voice low and sharp. “I’m done playing games. Who is she?”
“Who’s who?” Enzo asked, though his grin gave him away.
“You know who,” Mattheo snapped. “Don’t make me hex you.”
Theo leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. “You know, this is really entertaining for us. You, all worked up over a girl? Never thought I’d see the day.”
Mattheo glared at him. “I’m serious.”
Enzo sighed dramatically, like he was being forced to give up some great secret. “Look, Riddle, I could tell you who she is, but… where’s the fun in that?”
“Enzo,” Mattheo growled.
“Relax,” Enzo said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll figure it out. Or, who knows? Maybe she’ll tell you herself—if you don’t scare her off first with all this brooding.”
“I’m not brooding,” Mattheo muttered, shoving Enzo’s hand off his shoulder.
“Sure you’re not,” Theo said with a smirk.
Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. “I hate both of you.”
“No, you don’t,” Enzo said cheerfully, slinging an arm around Theo as they started walking down the corridor. “Besides, you should be thanking us. If it weren’t for us, you’d still be writing to your mystery girl without a clue she’s real.”
Mattheo stayed rooted in place, watching them go, his jaw clenched. He hated how smug they were. Hated how much they seemed to know.
But more than anything, he hated the fact that they were right.
She was real. And now he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
That evening, back in the Slytherin common room, Mattheo sat by the fireplace with the journal in his lap. His pen hovered over the page as he debated what to write.
Finally, he scrawled a message, keeping his tone light even though his heart wasn’t.
“So, I hear you’ve met some of my friends. I can only imagine what they told you. Care to share?”
He hesitated for a moment, then added:
“Also, you’re cruel for knowing who I am while I’m still in the dark. Just so you know.”
He leaned back, tapping the pen against his knee as he reread the words. Then he smirked to himself.
“But if you’re planning to keep me guessing, at least tell me this—was I what you expected?”
Satisfied, he closed the journal and set it aside, his thoughts buzzing with anticipation.
Because no matter how this game played out, Mattheo knew one thing for certain.
He had to know her.
The journal was back in Mattheo’s hands the next morning, its weight heavier than usual as he tucked it under his arm and made his way to the Slytherin common room. He flopped down onto one of the worn leather couches, ignoring the chatter of his housemates, and cracked it open to her reply.
He scanned her words quickly, his brows furrowing and a smirk tugging at his lips all at once.
"That was actually the point, to not being able to judge who's writing, to kind of be able to connect, you know? So, no, I didn’t have an expectation, but fucking hell, I definitely didn’t think it’d be, like, you.
But, I don’t think it changes anything, honestly, just a little bit hard to believe the guy that punched a bloke last ball actually has a personality more than 'bad boy.'
Anddd, I mean, yeah, kind of wrong you don’t know me yet? Well, I think we’re in most classes together, maybe guess? No asking your little spies, btw."
Mattheo let out a groan that was half amusement, half frustration as he snapped the journal shut. "In most classes together," she said. Merlin’s bloody beard, that didn’t narrow it down at all.
Across the common room, Theo and Enzo lounged near the fireplace, their eyes on him like a pair of smug cats.
"You look stressed, mate," Theo drawled, flipping a page of his Potions textbook.
"Aw, he’s just lovesick," Enzo said with a grin.
Mattheo shot them both a glare. "This is your fault."
"Our fault?" Enzo repeated, mock-offended. "We gave you a perfectly good clue. You’re the one failing to connect the dots."
"You know who she is," Mattheo accused, pointing a finger at them. "You could just tell me."
Theo smirked. "Where’s the fun in that?"
Mattheo scowled, but Enzo cut him off before he could argue.
"Look, mate, why don’t you do what normal people do? You know, talk to the girls in your classes. Get to know them. Maybe you’ll figure it out."
Mattheo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. The last thing he wanted was to parade around Hogwarts like some kind of lost puppy. But the alternative was sitting here, waiting for her to reveal herself, and his pride wouldn’t let that happen.
By lunchtime, the plan—or lack thereof—was in motion. And by motion, it meant that Mattheo was, for the first time in his life, initiating small talk.
*
“Hey, do you happen to sit near me in Herbology?” he asked a Ravenclaw girl as they left the greenhouses.
She blinked, surprised. “Uh, yeah? Why?”
“No reason,” he said, flashing a grin before walking away.
Later, in Charms, he turned to a Gryffindor girl who sat a row behind him. “Do you take Ancient Runes?”
“I... do?” she replied, her confusion evident.
“Cool,” Mattheo said, leaning back in his seat like it was a perfectly normal question.
By the end of the day, word had spread that Mattheo Riddle—the brooding, sharp-tongued Slytherin—had been seen chatting up half the girls in their year.
And, of course, it wasn’t long before Theo and Enzo caught wind of it.
“Small talk, Riddle?” Enzo teased that evening, flopping down onto the couch beside him. “Who knew you had it in you?”
Theo joined in, smirking as he leaned against the armrest. “You know, I heard from a Gryffindor girl that you asked her about Ancient Runes. Ancient Runes, Mattheo. Really?”
Mattheo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to hex both of you.”
“Come on,” Enzo said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Admit it—you’re enjoying this just a little. Chasing her, figuring her out. It’s all very romantic.”
“It’s fucking annoying,” Mattheo muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself.
“You’re so whipped,” Theo said with a grin.
“Shut up,” Mattheo shot back, but his tone lacked bite.
As much as he hated to admit it, there was something about her—about the way she kept him guessing, kept him intrigued—that he couldn’t get enough of.
And if he had to endure a little humiliation to figure out who she was?
Well, maybe it was worth it. Because, since he got to hogwarts, someone didn’t give a fuck that he was Mattheo, just was Mattheo. That felt good, more than good.
𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯
The journal was back in her hands later that evening, and when she opened it, his reply was waiting for her:
*“First of all, punching a bloke was entirely necessary at the time. I don’t make the rules.
Second of all, ‘most classes together’ isn’t helpful, and you know it. You’re cruel, and I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this way too much.
Third, I’m working on it. But I’m warning you—when I figure out who you are, you’re going to regret keeping me in the dark. Just wait.”*
And beneath it, in smaller, messier handwriting:
“P.S. I don’t think it changes anything either.”
hiiii omg, okay so yep, ch3 took a while because school killed me, but i'm back !! i moved past the dares lol, and the tag list is open so lemme know !! mwahh, - reyy