Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

Storyteller

Word Count: 630

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with excitement, the flames in the fireplace crackling warmly as students gathered around in small groups, sharing stories and laughter. In one corner, a group of wide-eyed first-year students huddled together, their faces filled with eager curiosity as they listened to a fifth-year girl, Y/N, sitting on a cushioned armchair.

"Alright, gather 'round, everyone," Y/N said, her voice low and mysterious, drawing the younger students closer. "I've got a story for you–a story about the son of Voldemort."

The first-years gasped in unison, their eyes wide widening with fear and fascination. Y/N leaned forward, getting closer to the young students, her expression serious, but a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes.

"You see, not many people know this, but there's a boy here at Hogwarts who's said to be the Dark Lord's own son," she began, her voice dropping to a whisper. "They say he's just like his father–dark, powerful, and dangerous. He lurks in the shadows, watching, waiting...and if you're not careful, he might just decide that you're next."

The first-years exchanged nervous glances, their imaginations running wild with thoughts of the mysterious Slytherin boy. Y/N bit back a smile, continuing her tale.

"They say his eyes are as cold as ice," she went on, "and that he can cast spells without even saying a word or even read your mind. No one knows his true name, but the few who've crossed paths with him say he's as terrifying as the stories about his father."

One of the first-years, a small boy with tousled brown hair, swallowed nervously. "W-what happens if you run into him?" he asked, his voice trembling.

The girl's expression grew even more serious. "If you're lucky, you might escape with just a fright," she said, her voice dropping lower. "But if you're not... well, let's just say you'd better hope you know some good defensive spells."

Suddenly, the sound of a soft footstep echoed in the room, and the first-years whipped their heads around in fear. A tall figure stood in the doorway, cloaked in the shadows, his presence sending a chill through the room. The first-years gasped in terror as the figure stepped into the light, revealing none other than the boy Y/N had been describing.

It was Mattheo Riddle.

His dark hair fell into his eyes, which were indeed as cold as ice, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. The first-years stared at him in horror, their faces pale.

"Is someone telling stories about me?" Mattheo's voice was low and smooth, sending shivers down the spines of the younger students.

The first-years didn't wait to hear more. They bolted from the common room, their panicked footsteps echoing down the corridors as they fled.

As soon as they were gone, Mattheo let out a laugh, his smirk turning into a genuine grin. Y/N couldn't hold back her laughter any longer either. She doubled over, clutching her sides as she laughed with him.

"Did you see their faces?" Mattheo said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I did! They were terrified!" Y/N replied, wiping away a tear of laughter. "You're getting really good at this, Mattheo. Just please next time, let me get deeper into my story about you."

Mattheo shrugged, still grinning. "It's all in the delivery," he said, his tone light. "Besides, it's not every day I get to scare a bunch of first-years."

"True, but still. The story was just getting good!" Y/N replied with a wink. "Now, let's get out of here before McGonagall hears about this. I don't want another detention because of you."

With one last shared laugh, the two of them slipped out of the common room, leaving behind the echoes of their amusement and the memory of a story the first-years would never forget. 

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I thought this was kinda cute. I'm thinking about rewriting it in the future? Making it a little bit better than how it is now. Thoughts?

Comment &/or Vote :)

Stay Beautiful <3