Mattheo Riddle One Shots

Unspoken Words

Warnings: sad

Summary: y/n the quiet Slytherin wasn't asked to the Yule Ball.

Words: 1545

Y/n had always been the quiet one. In a house like Slytherin, where ambition and cunning were valued above all else, she found herself blending into the background. She didn't mind, though. She had always preferred the solitude of her studies and the comfort of books over loud parties and flashy displays of power. She was a top student, with straight A's to prove it, and she never got into trouble. That was enough for her. It had to be.

But there was one secret that weighed heavily on her heart—one she would never admit to anyone, especially not to Mattheo Riddle. The boy who haunted her thoughts every day. The boy who seemed so far out of reach, and yet, was right in front of her in every Potions class. He was a perfect combination of charm and danger, a force of nature that drew the attention of everyone around him. And y/n? She was the quiet, studious girl who did all the work in their Potions projects, while Mattheo did little more than watch, barely interested in the subject.

It wasn't that she minded doing the work—it was her choice, after all. She loved Potions. But it hurt. It hurt every time she looked up to see him leaning back in his chair, eyes half-closed as if she wasn't even there. She had grown accustomed to it, to the cold indifference he showed her, and yet... her heart still ached every time she looked at him.

The announcement came like a thunderclap that no one could ignore. The Yule Ball.

Students from all houses chattered excitedly, talking about dates and dresses and how they were going to make the night unforgettable. It was the kind of event everyone looked forward to, and y/n had been no exception—except for one thing. She had always dreamed of going to the ball, but not just with anyone. She wanted to be asked with a black rose, a perfect match for the black dress she had always imagined herself wearing.

One afternoon, sitting in the common room with Luna Lovegood, y/n allowed herself to dream out loud.

"I wish someone would ask me to the ball," she confessed quietly, picking at the edge of her parchment. "Maybe someone would bring me a black rose... You know, to match with my dress."

Luna, ever the optimist, gave her a dreamy smile. "You never know, y/n. You might get your wish."

But as the weeks passed, no black roses arrived. No invitations came. The days before the ball dwindled away, and y/n was forced to face the truth. No one was going to ask her. No one ever had. Not in the way she wanted. The one person she longed for—Mattheo—never even seemed to notice her beyond their obligatory Potions classes.

The night before the Yule Ball, y/n sat in the library, trying to focus on her notes for an upcoming exam. But the weight of the ball hung heavily on her shoulders, and she couldn't concentrate. Every now and then, her eyes would drift to the door, hoping, praying that Mattheo would walk in, that he would ask her to go with him.

He never did.

It wasn't until the next day, the day of the ball, when it happened.

Mattheo Riddle, the one person who had occupied her thoughts for far too long, walked past her as she was packing up her books. His eyes flicked to hers, and for a moment, their gazes locked.

"Y/n," he said, his voice casual but a bit too loud in the otherwise silent hallway. "Do you have a date for the ball?"

The question caught her off guard. She hesitated, the truth stinging at the back of her throat. "No," she said, keeping her voice steady. "The guy I wanted to ask me didn't."