Mattheo Riddle - Imagines/OneShot

Chasing the Wildcard

Word Count: 1147

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Mattheo's POV

Hogwarts had never seen a girl like Y/N.

She was a firework in human form, a different breed entirely—unpredictable, untamed, and completely unaware of the chaos she left in her wake. The whole lot of Hogwarts operated by some unspoken rulebook, she burned hers to ashes and danced in the embers. She didn't follow the rules, didn't care for expectations, and somehow, without trying, she became the one person who fascinated me more than I cared to admit. One day, she'd be sneaking into the Forbidden Forest just to see if the centaurs would let her join in their conversations; the next, she'd be charming Filch's cat to follow Snape around, just for a laugh. Every hallway she walked down carried whispers of, What's she up to now? And the thing is, she wasn't as reckless as people thought—she was calculated chaos, the kind of storm that left you wanting more even when you knew better.

People didn't know what to do with her.

And me? I was completely fucking obsessed. I couldn't get her out of my head.

I first noticed her when she waltzed into a party in the Slytherin common room like she owned the place. Not a single glance at me, not a flicker of interest in my direction, which only made me want her more. That was her game—giving just enough to make you believe you had a chance, then vanishing before you could claim her.

And I, Mattheo Riddle, the one who always had the upper hand, was left grasping at smoke.

Y/N wasn't like the others—the girls who batted their lashes and giggled at everything I said. No, Y/N wasn't like them at all, she didn't chase—she left all those she charmed waiting for her attention and never returning it. Every time I tried to catch her attention, she'd let me think I had it—just for a second—before slipping through my fingers like smoke.

And she knew exactly what she was doing to me.

Like the other day, for example.

I was leaning against the corridor wall, watching as she strolled past with that signature smirk of hers, her robes slightly off her shoulders like she couldn't be bothered to wear them properly. She knew I was watching. She always knew.

"Riddle," she greeted smoothly, her voice playful.

"Y/N," I returned, my scanning hers for a hint of something–anything–that showed she was as affected as I was.

"Enjoying the view?" she teased, stopping just short of touching me.

I smirked. "Maybe."

Her lips curled like she had won some unspoken game. "Figures. Try to keep up, yeah?"