Mattheo Riddle One Shots

Paper Rings pt.2

Words: 1013

Warnings: None

Summary: The quiet moments after the Christmas Ball reveal something deeper between Mattheo and Y/N, built on paper rings and unspoken promises.

January 7th – The Greenhouse

The first week of the new term was cold and unforgiving. Snow clung stubbornly to the castle's turrets, and the wind howled across the grounds, leaving little room for warmth. Still, Y/N found herself walking to the greenhouses, her gloves snug around her hands, a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck.

Mattheo had left a note that morning, slipped into her Transfiguration book:
Greenhouse Three. After lunch. Don't keep me waiting.

A smile had tugged at her lips as she read it, though she hadn't dared let anyone see. Things between them were still new—fragile, like the paper ring he'd given her. It wasn't a secret, exactly, but neither of them had said anything about what they were to anyone else.

As she stepped into the warmth of the greenhouse, the biting cold melted away, replaced by the earthy scent of damp soil and the comforting hum of enchantments keeping the plants alive. Mattheo was there, leaning casually against a worktable, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

"You made it," he said, his voice teasing but soft.

"I figured it was safer to show up than to risk your wrath," Y/N replied with a smirk, pulling off her gloves.

Mattheo chuckled, the sound deep and rich. "Smart girl."

He pushed off the table and crossed the small space between them. Y/N's heart raced as he reached into his pocket and pulled out another folded scrap of parchment.

"You seem to have a thing for paper, Riddle," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"It's simple," he replied, his voice quieter now. "But it means something."

He handed her the paper, and she unfolded it to reveal a carefully sketched flower. It wasn't perfect—the lines wavered slightly, and the petals were uneven—but she could tell he'd put effort into it.

"It's a snowdrop," he explained, scratching the back of his neck. "They're supposed to mean hope or something like that. I figured it fit."

Y/N's chest tightened. Mattheo Riddle, the boy who was always so confident and collected, was standing here, looking nervous over a drawing he'd made for her.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, her fingers brushing the paper.

His dark eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavy with unspoken words.

"I know this... thing between us isn't flashy," Mattheo began, his voice low. "But I'm not the type to make grand declarations or write poetry. I just... I want you to know that I'm serious about this. About you."

Y/N's heart felt like it might burst. She stepped closer, the paper flower still in her hands. "Mattheo," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't need flashy. I just need you."

A slow smile spread across his face, and he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Good," he murmured, his hand lingering near her cheek. "Because that's all I've got."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was soft and tentative, as if he were afraid of breaking the fragile thing they'd started.

When they pulled apart, Y/N felt her cheeks warm, though she wasn't sure if it was from the kiss or the greenhouse heat.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" she teased, though her voice was still breathless.

Mattheo grinned, his confidence returning. "Stick around, and you might see a few more."

February 14th – The Courtyard

By the time Valentine's Day arrived, word of their relationship had spread through the castle. It wasn't that they'd made an announcement, but Hogwarts had a way of knowing things.

Y/N didn't mind. Not when Mattheo had a way of making her feel like she was the only person who mattered, even with the stares and whispers that followed them.

They were sitting in the courtyard, the winter sun weak but welcome as it shone down on the stone benches. Mattheo was sprawled out next to her, his head resting in her lap as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair.

"You know," he said, his voice lazy, "this is the best Valentine's Day I've ever had."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly makes this one so special?"

He tilted his head to look up at her, his dark eyes sparkling. "You're here."

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, though she couldn't fight the smile tugging at her lips.

"You're ridiculous," she muttered.

"Ridiculously in love with you," he countered, grinning at her reaction.

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her heart was pounding. "Keep that up, and I might actually believe you."

Mattheo sat up, his expression suddenly serious. He reached into his pocket and pulled out another folded scrap of parchment.

"Here," he said, holding it out to her.

Y/N took it, unfolding the paper to reveal a heart, carefully drawn and shaded. Inside the heart were the words: Y/N, will you be my forever?

Her breath caught, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Mattheo..."

"It's not much," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But it's what I can give you. A promise, I guess."

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She reached out, taking his hand in hers. "It's perfect," she whispered.

He smiled, pulling her closer until their foreheads touched. "Good. Because you're stuck with me now."

Y/N laughed softly, her heart full. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

In the months that followed, Mattheo continued to surprise her with little paper creations—rings, flowers, hearts—each one a small reminder of the promise they'd made. It wasn't grand or flashy, but it was theirs.

And sometimes, the simplest things—like paper rings and quiet moments—are the most real.