Mattheo Riddle One Shots

Torn Between Shadows •Prompt 2•

For: riddle_x_nott and Tanczacapanda
Continuation: A Confrontation with Voldemort

The tension in the room was suffocating. You stood bound by magical chains, your wand confiscated and your body bruised from a skirmish with Death Eaters only hours earlier. Now, you were a pawn in a game much larger than yourself, caught in the cruel web of Lord Voldemort's schemes.

Across the dimly lit chamber, Voldemort's snake-like face twisted into a cruel smile, his wand loosely held at his side. Beside him stood Mattheo, his face pale, his hands trembling ever so slightly. He looked smaller than you had ever seen him—like a boy forced into a man's game, crumbling under the weight of his father's expectations.

"Ah, Mattheo," Voldemort's voice was like ice, slicing through the thick silence. "Your loyalty will finally be tested. Prove yourself to me. Show me you are worthy of the name Riddle."

Mattheo didn't respond, his dark eyes fixed on you. You saw the flicker of emotion in his gaze—pain, regret, and something else you couldn't quite place. Fear.

"I won't beg, Mattheo," you said, your voice trembling but defiant. "If you're going to follow him, if you're going to let him take me, then do it. Show me who you truly are."

Voldemort let out a low, menacing laugh. "You see, my son? Even she knows. Love makes you weak. Do not let her poison you further. Finish this, and prove to me your allegiance."

Mattheo's hands balled into fists, his shoulders taut with tension. He glanced at his father, then back to you.

"Do it, boy," Voldemort hissed, his patience wearing thin. "End her life. Or perhaps you're no son of mine at all."

The air in the room grew colder, the weight of Voldemort's power pressing down on you both. You watched Mattheo's face twist with inner turmoil, his eyes darting between you and his father.

"Mattheo," you said softly, your voice cracking under the strain. "This is your choice. No one else's. Decide who you want to be."

He stared at you, his chest heaving. Slowly, he raised his wand, pointing it directly at you.

Time seemed to freeze.

And then, Mattheo spun on his heel, his wand aimed at Voldemort. "Avada Kedavra!"

The room erupted in chaos. Voldemort deflected the curse with an effortless flick of his wand, his crimson eyes blazing with fury. The force of his counter-attack sent Mattheo flying into the stone wall, where he crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath.

"You dare to defy me?" Voldemort's voice was a venomous hiss, his wand trained on his son. "I gave you life, and this is how you repay me?"

Mattheo struggled to his feet, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead. "You didn't give me life," he spat, his voice trembling with rage. "You stole it from me. From everyone. I won't let you take her too."

For a moment, Voldemort's expression betrayed surprise, and then it twisted into something far more terrifying: satisfaction. "Foolish boy," he sneered. "You think love will save you? That she will save you? You're weaker than I imagined."

He raised his wand, and in that instant, Mattheo lunged at him, throwing every ounce of magic he had into a desperate duel. Spells crackled and flashed, the room filling with the acrid smell of burning stone. You struggled against your bonds, screaming Mattheo's name, but the battle raged on, relentless and merciless.

Mattheo was outmatched. He always had been. But he fought with a ferocity you had never seen before, every spell he cast laced with desperation and defiance.

"Protego!" he shouted, deflecting a killing curse that sent sparks flying. "I won't be your puppet anymore!"

Voldemort laughed coldly, his power overwhelming. With a flick of his wand, he disarmed Mattheo, sending the younger wizard's wand skittering across the floor.

"Then you will die like the rest of them," Voldemort declared, his wand aimed at his son's chest.

"No!" you screamed, and in that moment, the chains binding you shattered as a surge of raw magic erupted from within you. Grabbing the nearest wand—Mattheo's—you stood between him and Voldemort, your own fear replaced by pure determination.

"You'll have to go through me first," you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face.

Voldemort's lips curled into a mocking smile. "How touching," he said. "But love cannot save you now."

As he raised his wand, a sudden explosion rocked the room. Members of the Order of the Phoenix stormed in, their spells cutting through the chaos like a beacon of hope.

Amid the confusion, you grabbed Mattheo's arm, pulling him to his feet. "We have to go!"

He hesitated, his eyes lingering on his father, who was now locked in battle with the Order's strongest. "This isn't over," he murmured, his voice heavy with grief.

"No, it's not," you agreed, your grip tightening on his arm. "But it's not your fight anymore. Let's go."

Together, you fled the chamber, the sounds of battle fading into the distance as you escaped into the night.

Outside, under the cover of darkness, Mattheo collapsed to his knees, his body trembling with exhaustion and guilt.

"I betrayed him," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I betrayed my own blood."

You knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "No, Mattheo. You chose what was right. That's what matters."

He looked up at you, his dark eyes filled with anguish. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve any of this."

"Maybe not," you said softly. "But you're here. And you're alive. That's enough for now."

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Mattheo allowed himself to break. He buried his face in his hands, his sobs muffled but raw.

And you stayed by his side, knowing that while the road ahead would be long and painful, this moment—this choice—was the first step toward redemption.