Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

If Only - Alt. Version

Requested by: Ev2amazing4ya

Word Count:1102

Song Inspo: Those Eyes - New West

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The dungeons of Hogwarts were cold, they always had been, but to Mattheo Riddle, the darkness had never felt as oppressive as it did now. He walked the familiar corridors, his mind in turmoil, his heart heavy with a burden he could no longer ignore.

The flickering of lights casted long, distorting shadows on the stone walls, and his reflection in the mirror seemed to mock him. His tanned, sharp features were a mirror of his older brother, Tom Riddle, but where Tom executed confidence and pride, Mattheo only felt confusion...longing for the one thing he could never have—Y/N.

It was an unspoken rule between the two Riddle's. Loyalty came before all else, and Mattheo had always adhered to it, even if he went against it. But now, in this moment, he found himself breaking that sacred rule, and the guilt was beginning to consume him.

For he was deeply, foolishly in love with Y/N— Tom's girlfriend.

For so long he tried to fight it. He couldn't help but fall in love with her laughter, the way it spills out like sunlight, warming even the darkest corners of his soul. He falls for the way her eyes light up when she talks about her passions, how they hold a depth that feels like a universe waiting to be explored. Her smile... something that became his favorite sight, a beacon of joy that pulled him in without fail. It was always the little things that pulled her towards him, but the biggest reason, the way she listens. Her attention made him feel like the most important person in the world. It made him feel seen, feel complete, with all that went wrong in his life.

It was without his knowledge though, that his brother Tom's relationship with Y/N had been strained for months. They'd tried, oh, how they tried. Long talks in the common room, quiet walks by the lake, moments stolen in shadowy corners. But even Mattheo could see the cracks forming, widening with each passing day.

Tom, ever proud and composed, refused to admit defeat. Y/N, however, seemed to be drifting further and further away, her laughter growing less frequent, her smiles forced. Mattheo had tried to stay out of it, to let them figure it out on their own, but the more he stayed in the background, the harder it became.

Because long ago, somewhere along the way, he'd fallen for her.

That evening, as Mattheo paced the edge of the Black Lake, the chill biting through his robes, he couldn't shake the memory of the argument he'd overheard earlier.

"You don't understand me Tom!" Y/N's voice had been sharp, cutting through the common room like a knife.

"And you don't listen!" Tom had countered, his tone as cold as the dungeon itself. "All you do is criticize. Maybe the problem isn't me; maybe it's you."

Mattheo hadn't stayed to hear the rest. It wasn't his place, but the words lingered, carving a hole in his chest. He hated seeing her like this—hurt, frustrated, lost. And he hated himself for the small flicker of hope that came with it.