Mattheo Riddle One Shots

Green and Gold pt.2

Part two!

*requested*

The icy December wind swept across the Hogwarts grounds, rattling the windows of the castle and sending shivers down your spine as you hurried through the corridors. The holiday break was approaching, but instead of the usual excitement, you felt a knot of unease in your chest.

Your relationship with Mattheo had become the talk of the school—whispers followed you both wherever you went. The rumors ranged from harmless gossip to exaggerated tales of forbidden romance. But the hardest part wasn't the attention; it was Tom.

Since your confrontation, Tom had grown colder, his once warm gaze now carrying an edge of resentment. You hated the distance between you, but you couldn't bring yourself to apologize for being with Mattheo.

Mattheo, for his part, seemed unfazed by his brother's disapproval. If anything, it seemed to amuse him.

"Tom's always had a stick up his—"

"Mattheo," you interrupted, shooting him a warning look.

"What?" he said with an innocent shrug, though his smirk betrayed him. "It's true."

You sighed, crossing your arms as you leaned against the stone wall of the courtyard. The snow had begun to fall, flakes catching in Mattheo's dark curls.

"I just want things to go back to normal," you admitted quietly.

He stepped closer, his teasing demeanor fading as he cupped your face in his hands. "Things might not ever be 'normal' again," he said, his voice soft but firm. "But as long as you're with me, we'll figure it out."

You wanted to believe him, but doubt lingered.

The turning point came just after the Yule Ball. The Great Hall had been transformed into a glittering winter wonderland, and for one night, you had allowed yourself to forget the tension. You and Mattheo had danced under the enchanted snowfall, your laughter drowning out the curious stares.

But the reprieve was short-lived.

You were returning to the Slytherin common room late that night when you heard voices—low and urgent—coming from an empty classroom. Recognizing Tom's and Mattheo's tones, you hesitated, torn between respecting their privacy and your growing concern.

Curiosity won out.

"...you're reckless," Tom was saying, his voice sharp. "Do you even care what this could do to her?"

"And you think you're any better?" Mattheo shot back, his voice heated. "You've spent years treating her like your personal possession. At least I see her for who she is."

"You don't deserve her," Tom hissed, his words dripping with venom.

"And you do?" Mattheo countered, stepping closer. "Face it, Tom. You're not angry because you think I'll hurt her. You're angry because you couldn't have her."

The silence that followed was deafening.

You stepped back, your heart pounding as their words echoed in your mind. Had Tom truly seen you as more than a friend? And had Mattheo known all along?

The next day, you sought out Tom in the library. He was seated at his usual spot, surrounded by stacks of books, his expression unreadable.

"Tom," you said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked up, his gaze guarded. "Shouldn't you be with Mattheo?"

You winced at the bitterness in his tone but pressed on. "I heard you two last night."

His eyes widened briefly before narrowing. "Eavesdropping now, are we?"

"I wasn't trying to," you said quickly. "But I need to know the truth. Is that how you really feel?"

Tom hesitated, his fingers tightening around the edge of his book. "Does it matter?" he said finally, his voice low.

"Of course it matters!" you exclaimed. "You're my best friend, Tom. I need to understand."

He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I do feel something more for you. Or maybe I just hate the idea of losing you to him."

You reached for his hand, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his words. "You'll never lose me, Tom. But you have to let me live my life. I care about Mattheo, and I need you to accept that."

His gaze softened, but the tension in his shoulders remained. "I'll try," he said after a long pause. "For you."

Winter turned to spring, and slowly, the strained dynamic between the three of you began to ease. While Tom remained distant at times, he seemed to be making an effort, and Mattheo, to his credit, toned down his antagonistic tendencies.

One afternoon, you found yourself by the Black Lake again, Mattheo's arm draped lazily over your shoulders as you watched the sunlight dance on the water.

"Do you think he'll ever fully forgive me?" Mattheo asked, his tone unusually serious.

"I think he's trying," you said, glancing up at him. "That's all we can ask for."

He nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. "You're worth it," he said simply.

"And so are you," you replied, leaning into him.

The future remained uncertain, but for now, you were content. The ties between you, Mattheo, and Tom were far from simple, but they were unbreakable—and in their own way, they made you stronger.

After all, love and loyalty were never meant to be easy.