Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

Teacher's Pet - Pt. 2

I would like to note that I do not condemn in this sort of behavior, this is strictly for the plot. Please read at your own discretion.

Mature Audience Warning -- You have been advised. (end of chapter) 

Song: older · Isabel LaRosa

Word Count: 1172

The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the Great Hall, casting long, warm beams across the tables where students chatted over breakfast. Professor Mattheo Riddle sat at the staff table, his mind miles away from the conversations happening around him. His coffee had long since gone cold, untouched as he stared out across the room, watching as students moved in and out in a familiar rhythm.

He hadn't slept well. His conversation with Y/N the night before played on a loop in his mind, her words, her eyes—everything about that moment had left an impression that he couldn't shake. He was a professor, bound by duty and ethics, yet the lines were blurring in ways that troubled him deeply.

Just then, the doors to the Great Hall swung open, and in walked Y/N. She was with a small group of her friends, laughing at something one of them had said, her usual air of quiet confidence surrounding her. But when her gaze flicked up to the staff table, her eyes met his for the briefest of moments.

A flicker of recognition passed between them, and then she looked away, falling back into conversation with her friends as if nothing had happened. But Mattheo could still feel it—that unspoken connection, the weight of everything they hadn't said.

"Morning, Riddle." Professor McGonagall's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She had taken her seat beside him, setting down her teacup with a precise clink. "You seem a bit distracted today. Everything alright?"

He forced a smile, nodding. "Just... a lot on my mind," he replied vaguely, hoping she wouldn't press further.

McGonagall gave him a knowing look but didn't pry. "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll sort it out. I've seen how you handle your students—you have a good head on your shoulders."

Her words, meant as a compliment, only deepened the knot in his stomach. He had always prided himself on being the kind of professor who could guide his students without becoming too personally involved, but now... now he wasn't so sure. There was something about Y/N that had broken through that carefully constructed wall, and he wasn't certain how to rebuild it.

Classes that day went by in a blur. Riddle moved through the motions, teaching lessons on advanced magical theory, but his mind kept drifting back to the previous night. He saw Y/N several times—sitting at the back of the classroom, her quill scratching against parchment as she took meticulous notes, her eyes occasionally flicking up to meet his before quickly darting away. Each glance sent a ripple through him, a reminder of the boundaries he was struggling to keep intact.

By the time evening came, he found himself back in the Astronomy Tower, the place where he often went to think, to find clarity in the vastness of the sky. But tonight, the stars offered little comfort.