Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

The Enemy's Hand

Word Count: 895

The shadows of the castle loomed over her as she hurried down the empty corridor. Y/N's heart raced, not just from the speed of her footsteps but from the fear that gripped her chest like a vice. The stone walls of Hogwarts had always felt safe, comforting even, but tonight, they were closing in on her.

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one was following her. The hall was empty, just as she had hoped. With trembling hands, she pulled her cloak tighter around herself and quickened her pace. She needed to get away–to anywhere he wouldn't find her.

She didn't know how it had gotten this bad. When she had first started dating Cormac McLaggen, he had been kind, charming, and attentive. He was a seventh-year Gryffindor, smart and seemingly perfect. But over time, that perfection had crumbled, revealing a darker side she hadn't anticipated. The first time he had raised his voice at her, she had been too shocked to react. The first time he grabbed her arm with enough force to leave bruises, she had been too afraid to speak up.

Tonight had been worse. A simple disagreement in the hall had escalated, and before she knew it, he had cornered her, his words sharp and his grip even sharper. She had finally found the courage to pull away and run, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he came looking for her.

Y/N rounded a corner and collided with someone. She shook her head, stumbling back, and looked up to see none other than Mattheo, a Slytherin she had clashed with countless times over the years. He looked just as surprised, or more annoyed, to see her, his usual smirk absent as his sharp brown eyes took in her disheveled appearance.

"Y/N?" His voice was low, a mixture of confusion and annoyance. "What the hell happened to you?"

She took a step back, instinctively raising a hand to brush her hair out of her face, trying to hide the redness around her wrist. Mattheo had always been her rival, the one person who never missed an opportunity to tease or challenge her in class. He was the last person she wanted to see her like this–vulnerable and broken.

"It's nothing," she mumbled, trying to push past him. "I'm fine."

But Mattheo didn't move. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the bruise peeking out from beneath her sleeve, and his expression hardened. "That doesn't look like nothing."

Y/N bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. She didn't want to talk to him–she didn't want to talk to anyone. All she wanted to do was disappear and hide until the pain went away.

"Let me go, Riddle," she whispered, her voice slightly cracking.

But instead of stepping aside, the Riddle boy did something she never expected. He reached out, gently taking her wrist in his hand. His touch, surprisingly soft, was nothing like the harshness she was used to. He studied the bruise for a moment before meeting her eyes again.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice cold with barely restrained anger.

Y/N hesitated. She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want to tell anyone. But the concern in his eyes–something she had never seen before–broke down the walls she had built up around herself.

"It was Cormac," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible. "He... he's been like this for some time now."

For a moment, Mattheo didn't say anything. He simply stared at her, his jaw clenched tightly. Then, without another word, he let go of her wrist and turned on his heel, marching down the corridor in the direction she had come from.

"Mattheo, wait!" Y/N called out after him, panic rising in her chest. She hurried to catch up, grabbing his arm. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to deal with him," Mattheo replied, his voice low and dangerous. "He doesn't get to treat you like that."

"No, please," Y/N pleaded, her grip tightening on his arm. "Don't make it worse. Just... let it go."

Mattheo stopped, turning to face her. His expression softened slightly, but the determination in his eyes remained. "I'm not going to let him hurt you again,' he said quietly. "You don't deserve this, Y/N. No one does."

Y/N's breath hitched in her throat. For so long, she had felt alone, trapped in a cycle of fear and pain. But now, standing here with Mattheo–her enemy, of all people–she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time: hope.

"Why do you care?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mattheo shrugged, but his gaze didn't waver. "Maybe I'm not as much of a bastard as you think," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "And maybe I just can't stand the idea of someone like Cormac McLaggen thinking he can get away with this."

Y/N looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, she saw more than just the arrogant, competitive boy she had always thought he was. She saw someone who was willing to stand up for her, even when she couldn't stand up for herself.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Mattheo nodded, his expression softening even more. "You don't have to go through this alone, Y/N. Not anymore."

And for the first time, in a long time, she believed him. 

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Should I made a Part 2? Yay or nay

Stay beautiful <3

Love, the Author