Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 869

The first time Y/F/N met Mattheo Riddle, she knew she hated him.

It wasn't just his cold-hearted eyes or the way his lips curled into a sneer every time they passed in the hallways of Hogwarts. It wasn't even the fact that he was a Riddle, a name that carried a whole rift in the wizarding world itself, along with dark magic and prejudice. No, what Y/N hated most about Mattheo was how he always seemed to best her at everything.

Whether it was in Potions class, where his brews were always a shade more perfect than hers, or on the Quidditch pitch, where his speed and agility made him nearly untouchable, Mattheo Riddle was the bane of Y/N's existence. And the feeling, it seemed, was mutual.

Their rivalry was legendary. For years, they exchanged sharp words and icy glares, always competing, always trying to outdo the other. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, bravery versus cunning–it was a story as old as Hogwarts itself, and they played their roles to perfection.

But something changed during their seventh year.

It began with a duel. Professor Snape had paired them together in Defense Against the Dark Arts, perhaps hoping that the exercise would force them to work out their differences. Instead, it nearly tore the classroom in half. Spells flew with a ferocity that startled even the most seasoned of students. Riddle's wand movements were precise, calculated, while Y/N's were driven by raw emotion. They matched each other spell for spell, neither giving an inch.

But then, something unexpected happened. As their wands locked in a clash of magic, a surge of energy passed through them, a force that neither had anticipated. It was as if their magic recognized something in the other, something that went beyond their rivalry. For a split second, they stared at each other, eyes widened with surprise, before the spell broke and they were both thrown back.

In the aftermath, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. She dried to dismiss it, tried to convince herself that it was jus the heat of the moment, but the memory of Mattheo's gaze lingered. It was no longer just cold and calculating–it was searching, almost curious.

They avoided each other for a while after that, both unsettled by what happened. But fate, it seemed, wasn't finished with them.

One evening, as Y/N was returning to Gryffindor Tower after a late-night study session, she heard a commotion down one of the darker corridors. Curious, she followed the noise, her hand on her wand. What she found made her heart stop.

Mattheo was surrounded by three older students, all of them towering over him, their wands raised threateningly. He was holding his ground, but Y/N could see the tension in his posture, the way his grip tightened around his wand.

Without thinking, she stepped into the fray. "Back off!" she commanded, her voice ringing with authority.

The students turned to her, surprise flicking in their eyes. "This isn't your fight, L/N," one of them sneered.

"Maybe not," Y/N shot back, "but I'm making it mine."

For a moment, it seemed like a standoff was inevitable. But then, with a few muttered curses, the students back down and slinked away, leaving Y/N and Mattheo alone in the corridor.

Mattheo straightened, brushing off his robes. "I didn't need your help," he said coolly, though there was a hint of something softer in his tone.

"I didn't do it for you," Y/N retorted, though she knew it wasn't entirely true. "No one deserves to be outnumbered like that."

Riddle's eyes narrowed, as if he was trying to figure her out. "Why did you really do it?"

Y/N hesitated, then sighed. "Maybe because I'm tired of hating you," she admitted, surprising even herself with the honesty of her words. "It's exhausting, and I've got better things to do."

Mattheo's expression softened, the usual hardness in his gaze melting away. "You're not the only one," he said quietly.

That night marked the beginning of something neither of them had expected. They didn't become friends overnight–years of animosity didn't just vanish–but there was a truce, an unspoken agreement to let go of the bitterness that had defined their relationship for so long.

As the weeks passed, they began to see each other in different light. Y/N discovered that Mattheo's confidence wasn't just arrogance; it was a shield he'd built to protect himself. And Mattheo realized that Y/N's fiery determination wasn't just stubbornness; it was a strength that he couldn't help but admire.

Their late-night study sessions became more frequent, filled with conversations that grew deeper as they let their guards down. They learned to laugh together, to share secrets they had never told anyone else. And somewhere along the way, rivalry turned into friendship, and friendship into something more.

By the time they walked down the corridors of Hogwarts for the last time as students, hand in hand, they knew that their love story would be one for the ages. It was love forged in fire, tempered by time, and it would be remembered as the day a Gryffindor and a Slytherin proved that even the deepest divides could be bridged by a single, undeniable truth: love always finds a way. 

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