Minefield

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💞