Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

Time Traveler's Regret - Pt.2

Word Count: 1080

A/N: Reminder that I'm closing requests as of 12/26/2024! To those who have submitted requests, I'm working on those so they will be posted soon :)

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The bustling streets of Diagon Alley were alive with the hum of chatter, clinking glasses, and the occasional crack of someone apparating away. Even with all of the commotion, it felt like the world had frozen around me. It had been months since I last touched my time-turner, too much pain of the bitter truth that Mattheo—my Mattheo— was lost to me. Though time went by, and my days continued on like nothing happened, time had duelled the ache in my chest, but hadn't erased it. My breath caught in my throat, my pulse quickening as my gaze locked onto a figure I thought I'd never see again.

Mattheo.

He stood on the cobblestone path, leaning casually against a lamppost. His dark curls framed his face, now sharper and more mature than I remembered. But his eyes—those familiar, stormy eyes—were darker, clouded with something I couldn't quite place.

For a moment, I stood frozen, wondering if he'd disappear like a phantom, like all the other times I'd imagined him since his disappearance. But then, as if sensing my gaze, he looked up.

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. "Y/N," he said, his voice low and cautious, as if testing the name on his tongue.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced my feet to move. "Mattheo," I breathed, stopping a few feet away.

It felt surreal—standing there, facing the person I had spent years searching for, mourning for, and trying to save.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice firm, though my hands trembled at my sides.

He tilted his head, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "I could ask you the same thing," he replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. But it didn't reach his eyes.

"Don't," I snapped, the frustration of years spent chasing his ghost bubbling to the surface. "Don't act like this is normal. Like you didn't vanish without a trace."

His smirk faltered, replaced by something heavier. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't have a choice."

"There's always a choice," I countered, my voice breaking. "You chose to not confide in me, it was your choice to leave. You obviously didn't trust me enough to help you through whatever it is that happened to you."

Mattheo's eyes softened, guilt flickering across his face. "You don't understand—"

"No, I don't," I interrupted, stepping closer. "Because you never let me in. You just...left."