Lyra Potter. A girl who's past has haunted her since that night her parents were murdered in cold blood, guilt hangs at her at every given second but her cold facade doesn't let it show. Her brother is the star of the school, Harry Potter, the chosen one. People think they would compete against eachother but the most they do is have distant conversations and unresolved feelings about their past flying about. After Lyra got sorted into slytherin , her life seemed to awfully quiet , until she met her two best friends, Pansy and Bec. Since then her girls have been her life, till the slytherin boys seemed to make their entrance to Lyra's life. But one boy really catches her eye , maybe not in the best way. Mattheo Riddle. Son of voldomort , what else could make his heart stone? His past is complex, something he doesn't confide about, layered secrets eat away at him but his dangerous but calm approach keeps the questions away. As most slytherin boys, Mattheo doesn't bond well with the well known Harry Potter, and the feeling is very mutal. But when Mattheo gets more involved with his group a girl appears , one who really takes his eye, he could tell she was different. But he knew her past, what his father has done to her family, he knew he should stay far away. But something kept dragging him closer.

My name carries weight, heavier than you might ever imagine. It is always associated with hatred, fear, and darkness-everything everyone expected me to be. One lesson I learned young is that it's better to be feared. But I was the one scared of him, of her, of their power and my own reflection. I've inherited his dark brown eyes-heavy, emotionless, and empty. I've got her curls, and hell, even her facial features. That's the worst part of me: seeing their creation reflected in my face. I am just another puppet, their biggest disappointment, yet still enough to lead when things get out of hand. Another year of classes, another year closer to my end-mentally and physically. Their whispers follow me everywhere, in every corner, as if I were the cause of all this, as if I had chosen it. Like hell, I would. By now, their ugly words no longer reach me. At least that's what I'm telling myself. My jaw always clenched, holding back any emotion, any words, any fists. I hate how they fear me and how they act around me, but, honestly, I'm even scared of myself. But it was better this way; someone closer than my arm's length would complicate things. Right? Right. Credit for Mattheo Riddle goes out to Yasemin and anything related to Harry Potter obviously to JK Rowling.💗 Her headcanons of him are mixed with mine a little. You always disagreed with popular Mattheo Riddle? Let me show you my version of Mattheo Riddle. Enjoy the read💞

Y/n doesn't have anybody, only her Slytherin friend group. She is a foster kid and her best friend Cho Chang died a few months ago. But, one day a new boy named Marcus Lopez comes to Hogwarts. She becomes really good friends with him, just friends? Or friends with benefits? Why is Voldemort coming after y/n? Who really is Marcus? Is she more than just a foster kid?

Lydia Black, the daughter of the infamous mass murderer, Sirius Black. Raised by her deceased mother's family, the Malfoys. They became the family she was robbed of. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. More than enough. Because whatever happened, she had him. Until- Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban. __________ "Tell me what you want," he whispered near her ear, his breath sending shivers down her body. "Mattheo... you... can't just-oh God," she tried to say, her voice barely there, just as he started leaving slow-too slow-kisses down her throat, all the way up to her jaw, causing a sighing moan to escape her lips. Her body betrayed her as she tilted her neck, giving him even more access. He smirked as he continued his torture, reaching her jaw and biting the skin softly. "Tell me to stop, baby," he whispered against her lips, their mouths nearly touching, before going back to softly kiss her jaw down to the spot just below her ear-her sensitive spot-leaving slow, wet kisses there. She bit her lower lip, trying to stop a moan. "Mattheo... we can't... you can't..." she barely whispered, her breath heavy. Her hands moved to his chest, attempting to push him away, but instead, her fists tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer. His head lifted as he met her eyes for merely seconds before his gaze dropped to her plump, wet lips. She instinctively bit her lip, causing him to close his eyes and exhale, his jaw tightening. "Don't do that. Tell me to stop. Push me away. Ask me to leave, Lydia, please," he said, his eyes filled with desire and desperation. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She let out a shaky breath. "Daya, I can't hold back much long-" he started before she cut him off. "Then don't," she hurried out, causing him to inhale sharply. "Are you su-" "Just shut up and kiss me," she whispered.