NO BODY, NO CRIME

NO BODY, NO CRIME

EPISODE 01: dinner and a glass of wine

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: the christmas holidays have just begun, but still a threatening atmosphere lies in the air. and you can act, you find yourself at a crime scene

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of blood, a corpse, (small) jump-scare

note: hello guys, welcome to the first episode of no body, no crime!! i’m so excited for this series and hope you enjoy it as much as i do!! the next episode is coming out next monday!! let me know what you think in the comments <333

the soft tunes of christmas music filled the air around you. the great hall was less filled than normal, most of the students deciding to go home for the holidays. 

"can you pass me the potatoes, please?" ron's red hair was illuminated by the soft glow of the fairylights behind him. the auburn sweater he was wearing was highlighting the contrast even more. 

"here" hermione said, holding the bowl across the table, as ron eagerly grabbed it. 

"where's ginny?" harry muttered. he had his nose buried in a book about quidditch techniques you had bought in hogsmeade. he had been busy studying it all night, but apparently not busy enough to not notice ginny's absence. 

"she's sitting with luna" you pointed out, as your eyes glided along the slytherin table. ginny and her had grown closer since the beginning of the year and you had to admit that you had quickly taken a liking to the blonde girl. she was a bit strange, admittedly, but lovely none the less. 

"she's been busy all year" ron muttered, mouth filled to the brim. "seems like we've gotten too boring for her"

"allow your sister to have her own friends" hermione shoke her head. "and for gods sake, please close your mouth, ronald."

despite the approaching festivity, the atmosphere in the hall was eerie. maybe because only a few people were sitting at eachs house table, making the hall seem weirdly out of place. 

the slytherin table was by far the emptiest. probably because most purblooded and traditional wizard families made a hail mary out of everything that would allow a party, showing off their wealth and status. 

the only thing that contradicted this assumption was that several children from the most influential pureblood families had chosen to stay. your gaze swept across the table, taking in each one in turn.

draco malfoy, displaying a usual attitude of displeasurement. you guessed that the malfoy weren't the people to listen to christmas music around the holidays. 

next to him, blaise zabini, who was munching on mouth full portion of potatoes just like ron was. 

across from them and her back facing the rest of the hall, including your line of sight, pansy parkinson, the perfect cut bob of black hair, moving slightly everytime she turned her head to the side, as she attentively listened to what draco was telling her. 

a few feet away, mattheo riddle and lorenzo berkshire were quietly discussing something. it looked somewhat urgent, as both of them leaned over the table top, and not even mattheo, whose face you could see, wore his usual smirk. 

just before you were able to wonder about his absence, you noticed theo nott walk into the hall. he looked just like always, messy curls falling onto his forehead, dark circles under his eyes and that face, that made every thought in your head disappear. 

not that you liked any of them, but theo had always been your favorite. he was a true slytherin. cunning, loyal and determined. even though he had reason enough, there was no arrogant bone in his body. 

you had liked him from the first time you had talked to him last year, when snape had coupled you up for a potions project. he had not even been as pretentious as you had thought he was, considering he was always hanging around with malfoy. 

but theo was nice, actually nice. 

"hello?" ron's voice was so sudden, you knocked over the cup of pumpkin juice beside you. 

hermione cleaned the juice off of the table with a simple flick of her wand, as she rolled her eyes at your distractedness. 

"what?" you wondered. 

"the cookies, please?" ron smiled and your expression turned sour when you noticed the pieces of potatoe stuck between his teeth. 

you nodded nonetheless and grabbed the plate of decorated christmas cookies. you took one for yourself, a delicious looking christmas tree, before you planted the whole plate in front of ron, knowing that he was gonna take one cookie after the other anyway. 

"i think we're good company" harry said, and while you weren't exactly sure what he was talking about, you nodded. 

"obviously we are" 

"i mean, she could've brought luna along, right?" he closed the quidditch book with a thud and crossed his arms. 

"ehh" you muttered. you were saved by the loud sound of the door, that flew open and revealed professor burbage. she walked up to the teachers table in a hurry, quickly excusing her late arrival, before she sat down next to dumbledore. 

you noticed the look of worry on her face and wondered what she was thinking about. 

“what’s gotten into her?” hermione asked and you were glad someone else had noticed the professor’s strange behaviour.

“everyone is stressed around christmas, right?” ron muttered without an ounce of interest. 

“i’m sure that’s it” harry nodded, glad that he could now shift the conversation back to it’s initial topic. “so, about ginny—“

“you’re mentioning her an awful lot, harry” you joked, enjoying how your brother’s face lost all it’s colour and his eyes darted between ron and you quickly. ron hadn’t even noticed the implication, if he had even listened to you in the first place. 

you could read the boredom from the redheads face as he rearranged the cookie plate, until it showed a little scene with a christmas tree, huge presents and two happy gingerbread man. 

you tuned the conversation out too, as harry continued to speak. you decided that it was hermiones turn to listen now. 

you rather turned your head to look at theo once more, who looked up at the very same time, probably feeling eyes on him. but he didn’t look in your direction, but to the teachers table. you furrowed your brows, before you followed his line of sight, your eyes ultimately landing on professor burbage. she looked just as worried as before, as she hectically looked between theo and something clutched in her hand. 

you looked back at theo, who simply rolled his eyes, averting his eyes from the teacher and focusing back on the untouched food beside him. draco muttered something in theo’s direction and the latter, barely reacted, managing only a weak smile, before his focus was gone again. 

you sighed, deciding you had spent enough time with your friends to leave without feeling bad. “i think i’m gonna head to bed” you smiled, standing up.

“oh” hermione simply noted. “should i accompany you?”

you shook your head, “i’ll be fine”. her offer was nice, but you wanted to be alone for some time. it was especially during times like these, that you most missed what other people had: a real family. you still had harry and you friends, but it was different from what you sometimes wished for. 

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow” you waved. ron, mouth filled brim, only waved back to your relief and harry nodded, muttering something about a game of chess ginny had promised. 

you headed out of the hall just a mere second later, pulling your sweater over your head, that you had taken off in the hall, because of the brizzling warmth of the fireplace at your back. you took the usual route to the tower. it was the place you often spend time at whenever you wanted to be alone. 

the stairs creaked loudly beneath each step you took, indicating how old the whole structure was. you walked across the wooden beams, leaning your body across the railing as you breathed in the cold of the air and your eyes wandered across the snow beneath you.

it was so calm up here, so silent.. until. the wood creaked loudly, indicating steps coming up towards you. your heart began beating faster, debating who could be coming up here. you had never ran across someone else at the tower.

maybe it was harry? you stepped closer to the stairs, expecting your brothers dark and messy hair to peak from the entrance, but it wasn’t harry who then stepped onto the plattform across from you.

“hey” theo nott muttered, hands pushed into the pockets of his pants while he looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“hey” you said, just as neutral. you tried to act casual, as he walked closer and you followed him back to the middle of the plattform, awkwardly standing next to each other. 

theo fished out a cigarette from his pocket. “is this okay?” he asked, poinint between the two of you. 

you furrowed your brows, confused what he was talking about, before you realized that he was probably asking about your permission to keep you company. “sure” you nodded and the lightened his cigarette. 

“you smoke?” he asked, holding the burning cigarette in your direction as if to offer you a blow.

you shoke your head, although you had to admit that he was intruiging to take a drag when a boy with such blue eyes was the one offering it. 

“do you come here often?” you asked softly, deciding it was more awkward to just stare at him in silence. 

“sometimes” theo shrugged. “they get exhausting, my friends i mean”

“yeah, mine too” you nodded. 

“wouldn’t have held you for a person that particuarly likes to be alone” theo muttered, before he turned his head, blowing the smoke out from his lips, without it hitting you. you appreciated the gesture. 

“it gets too much, sometimes” you shrugged. “i don’t mind to be alone”

“then you probably mind my company, huh?” he smirked, looking into your eyes with such sincerity.

“not at all” you shook your head, mirroring the smirk on his lips. “although i would prefer malfoy”

“oh shut up” theo laughed, his eyes glistened, almost surprised at the sudden joke. you felt proud that you had made him laugh, even if you had to mention malfoy for it. 

“i’m so sincere right now” you giggled, both of you not believing a word you were saying. 

theo threw down his cigarette, stomping on it, before he let it disappear with a flick of his wand. he looked up at you and opened his mouth, about to return a witty remark, when a loud bang rang out. 

you both froze at the sound, the laughter abruptly cut off as the echo of the bang bounced off the stone walls. the great hall felt miles away in that moment, and the air thickened with tension. theo’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of concern.

“what was that?” you whispered, instinctively taking a step closer to him. the sudden shift from light-hearted banter to fear sent a shiver down your spine.

“the door” theo muttered in recognition. the tower was right on top of the entryway to the castle. now that you thought about it, the bang did sound awfully like a heavy door falling close. 

“who would even go out there now?” you wondered, your heart still beating fast as the shock settled into your features.

“i don’t know” theo stepped away and closer to the staircase. “are you coming or what?”

you quickly nodded, as you followed him back down and through the corridor, before you froze in front of the door.

“maybe it was the wind” you suggested, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your uncertainty.

theo raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism dancing in his gaze. “you really believe that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture relaxed but his expression alert.

“well, it’s possible,” you replied, though you didn’t sound convinced. the notion felt flimsy in the wake of the unsettling noise, and the creeping feeling of dread wasn’t fading.

“possible, sure,” he replied, “but it sounded too loud for the wind. we need to check it out. it could be something... important.”

your heart raced again, this time from a mix of fear and curiosity. “important? like what?” you asked, biting your lip.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, glancing back at the heavy wooden door. “but don’t you think we should at least look? it might be someone in trouble.”

you hesitated, looking back down the corridor where you could see flickers of light from the torches along the walls. “but what if it’s something dangerous?” you countered, feeling a rush of apprehension.

“better to know than to wonder,” he said, his tone serious yet gentle. there was a spark of determination in his eyes, and you found yourself drawn to his confidence. despite the risk, the thought of turning back felt more frightening than facing whatever lay beyond the door.

theo looked back at you once more, before he sighed and nodded, pushing the heavy door open. what revealed itself was the dark of the night, as snow fell into the entrance you were standing in, quickly cooling your face. 

“it’s too dark” theo noted. both of you took out your wands, using lumos to light the way. theo urged you to follow him. the snow was so heavy, that even the light of your wands did almost nothing. 

theo was just a few steps beside you, when you felt it. “theo” you whispered, as your body and heart froze simultaneously. “theo” you repeated, a bit louder. you could see the light of theo’s wand come closer again. he had heard you. 

“are you alright?” 

you shook your head, what he probably couldn’t see. you could only make out his body. “there is something there” 

“what do you mean?” 

“i’m feeling it against my foot” you muttered. “there is something on the ground. i’ll have to come closer to make out what it is” 

“be careful” theo held you hand to stabilize your body, as you kneeled down, moving the light of your wand across the object on the ground in front of you. it was dark, black robes, hiding something beneath them. but you just couldn’t make out what it was. 

then suddenly, you gasped in shock. your light glided over a face, mouth, nose dripping blood. wide eyes, opened in terror as they stared at you unmoving. you screamed, falling back into the snow, as theo surged forward, trying to catch you. 

“y/n!” he called, panic rising in his voice as you struggled to breathe, your heart racing wildly “what’s wrong? what is it?”

“professor burbage” you muttered, over and over again. 

“what?” theo leaned in closer, still holding onto you, his face drained of color.

“she’s dead!” you choked out, voice trembling, eyes fixed on the professor’s face, still staring up at you, frozen in her final moment of horror.

you heard theo gasp, his own breath faltering for a moment as he processed what lay before you both. without another word, he pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm around you to support your shaking body. “we have to go,” he muttered, his voice tight with fear. with one hand, he held his wand forward, the dim light flickering in the swirling snow, while the other held onto you as you stumbled back toward the door.

the last thing you saw as the heavy door closed behind you was professor burbage’s body, half-buried in the snow, her lifeless eyes still staring, as if warning you of something far worse to come.

taglist: @melsunshine @shereadsandcries @ch3rry-lips @the-sylver-dragon @mayamonroem @allurearia @prongsprincessworld @brokenpoetliz @winterbarnesblog @mysummerwinesblog @cowboy-luvr @ahead-fullofdreams @mietlynn @maxsisly @too-efn-old-to-be-here @reverse-soe @insideoutjulie @thestrawberrythatgotaway @dvartesgfs

KINKTOBER #3– SUNKEN AND SPELLBOUND / mattheo riddle

october 7th no smut in this part

part one part two

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: mattheo can’t helped but be absolutely entranced when he meets a siren at the black lake. are you luring him in on purpose or is he just obsessed with you?

warnings: siren!reader, tension, no other warnings really, this is just context and build up for the smut in part 2

words: 4.1k

a/n: if this wasn’t for kinktober, i would’ve made it into a full series tbh. also PLEASE watch this video, it heavily inspired this fic and i want you to picture the scene just like this <3

navigation kinktober masterlist

The darkness was palpable. Shadows from the towering trees crept along the edges of the Black Lake as if warning him not to venture too far. The moon hung low, veiled behind wisps of cloud, casting a pale, silver sheen over the still waters. In the center of it all, Mattheo sat alone in a canoe, a single lantern flickering at the bow, its faint glow reflecting off the black water like a shimmering ghost.

He didn’t know what had drawn him here tonight. The Black Lake was no place to linger after dark, not with its depths harboring creatures only whispered about in the corridors of Hogwarts. But something called to him—something unspoken, something that pulled him like an invisible thread until his canoe drifted in the heart of the lake, surrounded by the inky expanse.

That was when he saw you.

At first, it was just a ripple. A disturbance on the otherwise glassy surface, as if the lake itself had shuddered. His eyes sharpened, scanning the water, but there was nothing there. Nothing he could see.

Until there was.

Beneath the surface, just at the edge of his vision, a figure moved. Fluid, graceful, like a shadow cast by the water itself. His heart quickened. He leaned forward, squinting into the depths, but the light from his lantern barely penetrated the water.

And then you rose, your fingers pearlescent and slender as they curled around the edge of his canoe, your skin illuminated in the soft glow. The water slipped off you like silk, your form rising slowly, carefully, until your face emerged from the blackness.

He recognized you at once. Y/N. The quiet girl who sat near the back of the classroom, who rarely spoke and often slipped into the background. But here, in the moonlit silence, you weren’t just a girl anymore. You were something else entirely.

Your eyes glistened like jewels in the dark, reflecting the lantern’s dim light, and your hair clung to your skin, wet and gleaming. He noticed your lips parted, but you said nothing, only staring up at him, as though expecting something.

Mattheo’s breath hitched. What the hell were you doing here? His mind raced. The Black Lake, in the dead of night, in its freezing waters…

His heart pounded, confusion swirling through him. He should have turned back, he should have rowed away, left you there in the cold and silence of the lake. But he couldn’t move. He was stuck, entranced, his eyes locked on yours.

Without a word, you began to sink again, fingers still holding onto the edge of the canoe. Your eyes never left his, even as you descended, your face tilting ever so slightly beneath the surface, lips dipping just below the water’s edge.

No. He couldn’t let you disappear like that. He had too many questions. He just needed to remember how to speak. He leaned forward, his body tilting dangerously, lantern in hand, face following yours, his breath shallow and ragged. He should have stopped. He knew it was reckless. But something about you, something in the stillness of your expression, the way you slipped away like a ghost—he couldn’t let it happen.

Closer. His face hovered over the water, his lips mere inches from where yours had been just moments before. His hand trembled, his fingers clutching the lantern like a lifeline, but still, he leaned further, chasing you as you sank lower and lower.

Then, in an instant, you were gone.

The water rippled where you had been, as if you had never existed at all.

Mattheo’s chest tightened. He blinked, staring into the empty space where you’d vanished. The cold air bit at his skin, his fingers aching from gripping the lantern too hard. His mind whirled.

He’d just witnessed something no one else had. Something no one knew.

Y/N—quiet, kind, reserved Y/N—was a siren.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the water, as if waiting for you to resurface, as if hoping for another glimpse of you in that strange, beautiful, terrifying form. His breath fogged in the night air, his heart pounding in his ears. He should have been scared. He should have been terrified. But despite the fact that he hardly knew you at all, all he could feel was an aching need to see you again.

And he did. Night after night.

Every evening, just before the moon reached its peak, he would return to the lake.

“I know who you are,” he’d called out one night, his voice low, echoing across the lake’s stillness. His words hung in the air, unanswered, as his eyes searched the dark water, desperate for any sign of you. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, each beat punctuated by the endless silence that stretched between them.

For a long time, there was nothing. The lake remained eerily calm, as though it had swallowed every secret and refused to give anything back.

Then, a movement.

Barely there, just beneath the surface, your head lifted. Your eyes—those same, hauntingly beautiful eyes—peeked up at him from the depths, shimmering in the moonlight. You didn’t rise, didn’t reveal yourself fully, but your gaze met his, intense and unblinking.

And in that moment, everything else ceased to exist.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded softly, hoping you could hear him when your ears were still beneath the surface.

The air between you crackled with unspoken intensity, a tension he couldn’t explain but didn’t want to escape. You were so close, yet so far—just out of his reach, just beneath the water where no one could follow. Your hair fanned out around you like tendrils of darkness, floating in the cold lake. The way you watched him, unblinking and unreadable, sent a chill down his spine.

But this time, you didn’t run. You stayed.

Mattheo’s breath quickened, the cold air burning in his lungs. He didn’t understand this—whatever this was. The fear he had felt that first night was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous. Curiosity. Hunger.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft lapping of water against the canoe. He wanted to say more, to ask you the questions that burned in his mind—What are you? Why are you here? But all of it felt useless in the face of this moment.

You blinked slowly, your gaze unwavering. Then, as if in response to his voice, you rose just a little higher, your lips barely brushing the surface of the water. It was a silent invitation, one that made his pulse quicken and his body move forward of its own accord.

Mattheo leaned down, his face just inches from yours now. His breath ghosted over your skin and he could feel the pull towards you like gravity, something deeper than desire, darker than fascination.

“You should go,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm, like the pull of the tide. Your words clung to the air, drawing out the tension between you both, but Mattheo didn’t move. His brow furrowed as he stared down at you, the cold biting his skin, though it was nothing compared to the chill he felt from the thought of leaving.

“Why?” he whispered back, eyes searching your face for answers you seemed unwilling to give. You remained silent, lips parting as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, you sank lower into the water, your fingers beginning to slip from the edge of the canoe.

Mattheo’s hand shot out before he could think, fingers wrapping around your wrist, cold and slick from the lake’s depths. For a moment, you froze, your gaze snapping back to his, your dark eyes widening slightly at his boldness.

“You keep coming back, Mattheo,” you said finally, the words heavy with meaning. “Why?”

He smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up, but there was something darker behind his grin. “Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

Your expression didn’t change. Serious, still unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes—something he couldn’t quite place. “This isn’t a game.”

“Who said anything about a game?” Mattheo leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “I think I just like seeing you like this. Out here. Alone.” His grip on your wrist tightened ever so slightly, thumb brushing along your skin in a way that sent shivers up your arm. “You sure you’re not the one who keeps pulling me back?”

You held his gaze for a moment longer before shaking your head slowly, pulling your arm free from his grip. “You don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice almost too soft to hear. “You shouldn’t keep coming back.”

A chuckle escaped his lips, light and playful, contrasting the tension hanging between you. “Yeah, well, too bad. It’s a little too late for that, guppy.”

The nickname, meant to irritate, had the desired effect. Your eyes narrowed, and you clicked your tongue in disapproval, pushing yourself a little further from the boat, but you didn’t leave. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” He leaned back casually, resting one arm on the side of the canoe as if he had all the time in the world. “It suits you.”

You huffed, though the irritation in your gaze didn’t seem as sharp as it could have been. “It’s not funny.”

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “Didn’t say it was.”

Despite your stern demeanor, there was a faint softness to the way you watched him now, as if the constant back-and-forth had become something familiar. Something comforting, even if you wouldn’t admit it. He couldn’t help but smirk.

“Mattheo,” you warned, though your voice had lost some of its edge.

“I’ll stop… when you give me a better name,” he shot back, winking. “Something less aquatic.”

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, sinking just beneath the surface once more, your hair floating like dark silk around you. Yet you stayed close, your presence lingering, even though you weren’t speaking.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmured to himself, staring down at the rippling water where you hovered just out of reach. He knew you were still there, watching him, listening. He always felt it. And no matter how many times you warned him, no matter how many nights passed, he would keep coming back.

He didn’t even fully understand why—just that he couldn’t stay away.

One night, as he settled into the familiar quiet by the water’s edge, he noticed you already waiting, your head barely visible above the surface. This time, you weren’t shrouded in mystery, not hidden beneath the waves like before. Instead, you floated lazily, your eyes trained on him as he approached, a faint frown tugging at your lips.

“You’re persistent,” you muttered, the water rippling slightly with the movement of your arms.

Mattheo shrugged, smirking as he crouched down by the edge of the lake. “I’m starting to think you like seeing me here every night.”

You scoffed, but didn’t swim away, staying just close enough for him to see the way your eyes sparkled in the low moonlight. “I think it’s more that you like coming back, no matter what I say.”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a nonchalant grin. “But let’s be honest—if you really didn’t want me here, you’d have dragged me into the lake by now.”

You didn’t respond immediately, your gaze flickering toward the horizon as if weighing his words. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Over time, you’d both grown accustomed to the quiet moments, the unspoken conversations that said more than words ever could.

Then, without warning, his smirk widened, and his eyes gleamed with mischief. “So, how’s the water tonight, guppy?”

Your eyes snapped back to his, narrowing instantly. “Mattheo, don’t—”

“What?” He feigned innocence, sitting back on his heels, hands raised in mock surrender. “I’m just asking a simple question. I’m curious.”

“You know I hate that name,” you muttered, glaring at him.

He chuckled, clearly unfazed by your frustration. “That’s why I keep using it. I like seeing you get all prickly.”

There was a flicker of something in your eyes—annoyance, maybe, but also something softer. Familiar. You huffed, turning your head slightly as if you could hide the faint amusement creeping into your expression. “You’re impossible.”

“I get that a lot,” he quipped, leaning closer to the water’s edge. “So… what’s the deal? Am I going to get the cold shoulder tonight, or are you going to tell me more about that little secret of yours?”

You sighed, floating a bit closer, your wet hair trailing behind you like dark ribbons in the water. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you, guppy.” He winked, clearly enjoying himself, though his tone carried an undertone of something deeper. Something real. You shook your head, but the smile that threatened to break through was unmistakable.

Here, in the light, you seemed harmless. Beautiful. Enigmatic. But he knew what sirens could do—what they were capable of. The stories of sailors who had been lured to their deaths, enchanted by their beauty, their voices, their pull. The line between danger and desire blurred when it came to creatures like you. When you were human, when the water hadn’t yet overtaken your mind, it felt safe. At least, that was what he told himself.

But now, seeing you here, suspended in the dark waters of the Black Lake, your true form only a whisper beneath the surface, he couldn’t shake the question that haunted him.

What were your limits?

Would you hurt him if he got too close? If he dared to touch you, would you snap, the water consuming you, pulling you into the primal instincts that lived in your siren blood? You hadn’t tried to harm him, not yet. You hadn’t sung—hadn’t used that infamous voice that could drive men mad, make them lose themselves in you.

But what if you did?

Would you sing for him? Would you lure him closer, draw him into the water, and drown him without a second thought?

He leaned his body down closer to the water over the edge of the canoe, his chest tight with anticipation, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Your lips parted slightly, just a breath away from the surface, your eyes never leaving his.

His voice, low and rough, broke the silence. “Why are you hiding from me?”

Mattheo wondered if this was how it would end—whether he’d be the next victim in a long line of men who had fallen for your kind, chasing after something they could never fully grasp.

But you weren’t like the others. Were you?

And for the first time, Mattheo didn’t care if he drowned.

“I wonder,” Mattheo whispered, his voice barely above the soft lapping of the water, “would you try to drown me if I got closer?”

For a moment, you said nothing. The only sound was the soft ripple of water against the canoe. Then, slowly, you began to rise, hands holding onto the wood of the canoe and pushing you up, your face mere inches from his, water dripping from your hair, your lashes.

“You don’t know what you're asking,” you murmured, your voice low, dangerous, yet strangely gentle.

Your breath brushed against his skin, and for a moment, Mattheo didn’t care about the danger. Didn’t care that you could destroy him in a heartbeat. He leaned closer, his face inches from yours.

“What if I do?” His voice was rough, a challenge wrapped in a whisper.

Your eyes darkened as your fingers reached for his, brushing against his hand, cold and wet. His breath hitched, every nerve in his body screaming for him to pull away, to break the spell you had over him. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Because at that moment, he wasn’t sure he wanted to escape.

Your touch was freezing, a sharp contrast to the heat that coiled in his chest. Mattheo’s breath hitched, his heartbeat a thunderous echo in his ears. You were dangerous. Every part of him knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Your eyes flickered, a brief flash of something—was it hunger? Or was it fear?

Your hand lingered against his, the touch ghosting over his skin as if testing the boundary between you, seeing how far you could push before he would flinch. But Mattheo didn’t flinch. He couldn’t. He wanted to know—needed to know—what you were thinking. Were you holding back, controlling the primal urges that lived inside you, or were you toying with him, drawing him deeper into your web until it was too late to escape?

His lips parted, breath shallow as he whispered, “Why don’t you sing?”

Your gaze snapped to his, sharp, calculating. For a moment, he thought you might laugh, or lash out, but instead, your lips curved into the faintest of smiles, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Because I don’t need to,” you said, your voice as smooth as the surface of the lake, a dark promise lurking beneath. His pulse quickened at your words.

You didn’t need to sing, didn’t need to lure him with your voice, because he was already yours.

You had him in the palm of your hand without needing to utter a single note. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut—he wasn’t in control here. He never had been.

Your fingers trailed up his hand, your touch sending a shiver down his spine as you slowly, deliberately, let them travel up his wrist. Your eyes never left his, locked in a gaze that felt like it could see straight through him, peel back every layer of his defenses until there was nothing left but raw need.

He knew what sirens were famous for. But this—this felt different. you weren't luring him, weren’t pulling him under the water. You were just... watching. Waiting. And that was almost more terrifying than the alternative.

His chest tightened, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. He was playing with fire, dancing on the edge of something he couldn’t fully understand. And yet, despite every instinct telling him to pull back, to run, he leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing yours as he whispered, “What are you going to do to me?”

“Whatever I want,” you murmured.

His hand reached out before he could stop himself, fingers brushing against your wet skin, slick and cold beneath his touch. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just watched him with those dark, unreadable eyes as if daring him to go further.

“You’re here every night,” you said, your voice soft, carrying across the stillness of the lake. There was something different about you tonight—something more vulnerable, almost hesitant. “Every night, you return with your silly little lantern and row into the middle of the pitch-black water. Why do you return every night?”

Mattheo swallowed hard, the knot in his throat tightening. He didn’t have an answer, not one he could put into words. Why did he come back? Why did he risk everything—his sanity, his safety—just to be close to you?

“You think you could follow me?” Your voice was cool, almost mocking, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something darker. “You’d drown, Mattheo.”

“I know how to swim, guppy.”

Your lips curved into a sad, knowing smile, your eyes dropping for a second, as if what you were about to say cost you something. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

The silence between you stretched, the air thick with tension, your gaze searching his, calculating like always—but this time, there was a flicker of doubt. Your voice softened, barely a whisper as your words faltered for the first time. “I… I could…”

Mattheo leaned forward, his heart pounding in his chest, his voice quiet but urgent. “What could you do?”

“I could take you under.” Your eyes met his, wide and filled with a fear he’d never seen in you before. “And I don’t know if I’d let you come back up.”

The words hung in the air, a cold truth that settled deep in his bones. Mattheo’s breath caught in his throat. He knew the danger—he felt it. You weren’t just telling him that you could kill him, that you could drown him and drag his body down into the depths forever. You were warning him that if he got too close, if he pushed too far, you might not have a choice. That your nature might take over, and he would be lost.

But instead of pulling back, instead of retreating like any sane person would, Mattheo felt a wild thrill rush through his veins. He leaned in closer, his voice low and reckless. “And what if I want that? What if I want to drown?”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Mattheo.”

A dangerous game. Of course he was. This whole thing had been dangerous from the start. From the moment he saw you in the water that first night. He wasn’t stupid—he knew that sirens lured men to their deaths. But the more he watched you, the more he realized something was different.

You hadn’t tried to hurt him.

Not yet.

“I’ve been coming here for weeks,” he said, his voice almost teasing, though the tension still held him in its grip. “Shouldn’t you have tried to, I don’t know, eat me or drown me by now? Or whatever it is that you sirens do?”

Your lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners. But it didn’t reach your eyes, which remained dark and heavy with unspoken fears. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered.

“I care about you,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Your eyes snapped to his, the vulnerability back, your lips parting as if to argue, but nothing came out. You just stared at him, frozen for a beat too long before moving forward to grip the edge of the canoe once more. “You don’t even know me.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I’m obsessed with you.”

Your grip on the canoe loosened, fingers dipping beneath the surface again as you drifted back, your face slowly sinking into the water once more, his eyes holding yours until you were just a shadow beneath the surface.

The moon reflected on the water, casting a pale glow over the lake, and Mattheo leaned forwards over the edge of the canoe, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm his racing heart. His mind whirled with thoughts of you, with the danger, the thrill, the temptation. He could still feel you, the ghost of your touch lingering on his skin, and it drove him mad.

He was playing a dangerous game, but he didn’t care.

Mattheo's breath hitched, his gaze locking on your lips, so close yet agonizingly out of reach. He wanted nothing more than to dive into the cold, murky depths of the lake, to feel your skin against his, to be surrounded, enraptured by you in every way possible.

"I need to be closer to you," he whispered, his voice rough with the raw desire he could barely contain.

Your eyes flickered with something that looked almost like fear. You backed away just the slightest, your fingers loosening their grip. "Mattheo, you don't understand what I am," you murmured, voice barely above a breath, the hesitation clear. "I can be dangerous."

The way you said it—like you were something to be feared, like you were the monster lurking in the shadows—only made him want you more. His heart pounded in his chest, every beat urging him closer, whispering that this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

"Then be dangerous," he answered, leaning forward, closing the gap between the two of you. He could see the inner struggle in your eyes, the battle you fought against yourself. But he wasn't afraid. He never had been. “Be dangerous, Y/N.”

You stayed still, lips parted as if you wanted to speak, to warn him again, but no words came. And then, with a quiet exhale, you pressed yourself closer to the canoe, your face just inches from his. "You see beauty," you whispered, voice trembling as your eyes searched his face. "But there's darkness in me, Mattheo."

His heart clenched at the vulnerability in your voice, the admission you'd been holding back for so long. you weren't telling him something new—he knew. He'd always known. But it didn't matter to him.

"I'm not afraid of the dark," he murmured, his words steady, resolute.

He didn't give you a chance to respond. Before you could stop him, before he could second guess his decision, Mattheo pushed the lantern aside and let himself slide off the edge of the canoe.

kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @sleepiibunniiii @chemtrailsoverhogwarts @daenerystorgayren @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys

Run Your Mouth - Mattheo Riddle

Summary: Your relationship with Mattheo might not be the healthiest in every way, but you're in far too deep to do anything about it.

Based on: Run Your Mouth - The Marias

TW: not proofread, implied spiciness (MDNI)

Dark brown eyes stared back at you, eyebrows raised ludicrously with inquisition. Awaiting your response, waiting for you to do, say anything. But the fact of the matter was, you had shut down as you sat on a trunk of Quidditch balls, eyes lulling, head empty.

It was a vicious cycle.

You would do something (or supposedly do something) that piqued Mattheo's jealousy, he would get upset and avoid you for a day or two - depending on the "severity", only to come back to you when he thought fit, mostly to give you a piece of his mind. Usually (always) ending the night undressed, limbs entangled, hands caressing soft skin in his Slytherin green bed sheets. Kisses and whispered apologies filling momentary silences, the soft candle glow lit up the stone walls of his dorm room - as if nothing had happened.

Currently, he was awaiting the answer as to why you had let Graham Montague pick up the scarf for you that you had been wearing, the scarf the wind had wisped away from you as you sat watching Mattheo during his quidditch practice - the scarf (which was Mattheo's) that he gave you to wear, marking you as his girl.

You'd never seen him hop off that broom so fast to hustle your way, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the broom shed with haste. Where you still happened to be - adjusting your seat on the uncomfortable trunk, wishing you were anywhere but here at the moment, as he hissed his disbelief of Graham. "What makes him think he can do that? And why did you look so okay with it?" He shook his head.

He continued his ranting as he paced back and forth inside the rickety old broom shed, drafts of wind howling through the cracks between each wooden board that still stood it's ground.

You watched quietly, letting him get it all out - your thoughts wandering, anything from tomorrow's herbology exam, what would be for dinner, weekend plans, to how wanton the sweat on his brow had made you feel inside. Memories of your fingers swiping the damp hair that stuck to his forehead as he readjusted his position between your thighs, looking down at you in assurance.

Shaking your head of the thought, he kneeled in front you - clearly winded from his long, one-sided conversation. Rough, wind-chapped hands grabbing his own scarf from your hands, wrapping it around your neck, before he tightened it ever so slightly - pulling your face down to meet his. "So?" He asks, his warm breath creeping across your lips, eyes locked on yours.

"You talk too much." You quip with a soft sigh, a smirk growing on your face - only to be mirrored on his face, a tut leaving his lips before he leaned in capturing yours in a deep, craved kiss.

Tense

pairing - mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary - just a little massage with a happy ending

warnings - soft!mattheo, smut, fingering, 18+ MINORS DNI

wordcount - 1k

As soon as you step into your dorm room, the weight of the day crashes down on you. Your body feels stiff, tense, and achingly tired, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget about the world for a while. But even as you kick off your shoes and toss your bag onto the floor, you know the stress will still cling to you, burrowing deep into your muscles.

Just as you’re about to let out a long, frustrated sigh, the door creaks open behind you. You glance over your shoulder to find Mattheo leaning against the frame, his dark eyes scanning your exhausted posture with a knowing smirk.

“Tough day?” he asks, voice low and smooth, the familiar rasp sending a shiver down your spine.

You let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through your hair. “You could say that.”

He steps inside, closing the door behind him as he watches you with that sharp gaze of his. But there’s something softer beneath it today, something that shows he’s not just here to tease you. He walks up behind you and rests his hands gently on your shoulders, thumbs pressing into the knots of tension in your neck.

“You’re so tense,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Let me help.”

You tilt your head slightly, his touch already working its magic, but the exhaustion still weighs heavily on you. “How?” you ask, your voice quieter now, more vulnerable than you meant it to be.

He steps in closer, his breath warm on your skin as his fingers slide down your arms before they settle on your hips. “Lie down,” he says softly, guiding you towards the bed. “I’ll give you a massage.”

A flush creeps up your neck at his offer, but you’re too tired to resist, too drained to pretend you don’t want it. You nod wordlessly and let him lead you to the bed.

“You’ll need to take these off, though,” he adds, his voice taking on a playful edge as his hands toy with the hem of your shirt and pants.

You hesitate for just a moment before you peel off your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You’ve been with Mattheo long enough to trust him, to know where this might lead, but even so, the thought of his hands on your bare skin sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

He gestures for you to lie down on your stomach, and you do as he asks, sinking into the softness of your bed. The cool air of the room brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of Mattheo’s hands as they begin to move across your back.

His touch is firm but gentle, his fingers pressing into the knots of tension with precision, easing the tightness in your muscles with every slow, deliberate stroke. You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes your lips as the stress begins to melt away, your body gradually relaxing under his expert hands.

“You’ve been overworking yourself again,” he says, his voice low as his hands move lower, kneading into the small of your back, just inches above the swell of your ass. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

You hum in response, too lost in the sensation of his touch to form words. His hands are magic, each movement drawing out a bit more tension, until all that’s left is a pleasant warmth spreading through your body.

Mattheo’s hands glide down to your hips, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin just above your underwear, and you feel a flicker of heat beneath the surface of your relaxation. His touch lingers there, teasing, as he leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“Feeling better yet?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with suggestion.

Your breath hitches, and you nod, though you can sense the shift in the air between you.

Without waiting for a response, Mattheo’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down ever so slightly as his lips trail soft kisses along your shoulder, sending waves of heat coursing through you.

You can feel your heart racing now, your pulse quickening as his hands begin to explore your thighs, his touch more intimate, more insistent. He whispers your name, his voice thick with desire, and your legs open wider ever so slightly in response, silently telling him what you need, what you’ve been craving.

“Turn over,” he commands, his voice rougher now.

You do as he says, rolling onto your back, your eyes meeting his as he looks down at you with dark, hungry eyes. His hand slides over your thigh, fingers brushing up toward your center again, but this time he doesn’t hesitate.

It only takes one short motion, a flick of his thumb, for him to press into the hot flesh of your core. Your back arches sharply upwards at the contact, and he grins wickedly down at you, leaning forward to run his tongue against your throat.

“So responsive,” he breathes. “Does it feel good, sweet girl?”

Your breathing catches at the question, and then you nod eagerly. Mattheo's thumb rubs slow circles over your clit and just as you feel his teeth on the skin of your neck again, his finger teases itself inside you. You writhe beneath him, desperate for more.

“Yes,” you moan, the sound echoing around the silent dorm room. “Please, please, more…”

With a quiet chuckle, Mattheo's finger presses deeper, his thumb speeding up slightly, and you groan loudly, feeling the familiar pressure build up, your entire being thrumming with pleasure. A few moments later, your orgasm hits, and when your body falls limp in exhaustion you hear Mattheo's quiet chuckle as he pulls away.

He lies down beside you, his warm body pressing close to yours. He wraps an arm around your waist and brings your face close to his, his other hand reaching over you to pull the blanket over the both of you. Your lips brush together once before he kisses you, lingering a bit longer than usual.

“Still feeling tense?” he mumbles, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Not anymore,” you reply as he pushes your face towards his neck, his fingers dancing lazily across the small of your back.

Masterlist

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⛧༺ NO BODY, NO CRIME ༻⛧

EPISODE 02: no, there ain't no doubt

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: you and theo begin to investigate the murder, while trying to keep the operation under wraps and each other save from the killer

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of blood, a corpse, murder

note: hello guys, welcome back to the second episode of nbnc!! i hope you like it so far! if you have any theories, do not be shy and share them in the comments!!!

you were staring at the wall across from you. dumbledores office was different than you would have imagined. you could hear the teachers voice, but it didn’t really reach your eyes, your mind wandering back and forth between what had happened prior.

professor burbages face was such a clear image in your mind. way too clear, way too disturbing. you could feel her eyes linger on you, feel the pain that had etched itself onto her features and the wetness of the blood on your fingers, that you had picked up as you had fallen back into the snow.

you felt theo’s arms around you, as he pulled you into the castle. you had felt his quick heartbeat against your ear, his shaky breath had been louder than yours and you hadn’t been able to stand on your own. 

“it’s okay” he had muttered, pressing you to his chest, as if to shield you from every bad thing in the world. “you’re okay” his voice was muffled as he spoke into your hair, hiding his own face as if to gain some sort of comfort from the close proximity.

“did you see anyone?” mcgonagalls voice reached your ears and your mind broke free off the memory.  

you shook your head, not having the ability to speak. theo send a worried glance in your direction. you were fiddeling with your hands in your lap, the look of terror still on your face. 

“there was no one there” theo said. “we didn’t hear or see anything apart from what we told you” his voice had grown aggravated through all the questions you had had to answer. “can we please continue this another time?” 

“just a few more questions, mr. nott” dumbledore said softly, holding a bowl filled with lemon drops towards you. both theo and you shook your head. 

theo sighed, but nodded at the professor’s request. then, all of a sudden, he reached over and took your hand in his, so you could hold onto something and knew that he was there. 

you looked up and theo send you a reassuring smile. 

you ended up at the common room at half past three. the questioning had continued all throughout the night, with the teachers grappling to find answers. you were sure that they knew more than you, as they exchanged mysterious glances at everything theo and you told them. 

you couldn’t stop thinking about it and you were so incredibly scared. you wished theo was there, he was the only one that understood what you were going through. 

you climbed the stairs to your dorm, deciding that it was to no use to sit around the common room all alone. hermione was fast asleep when you opened the door. the teachers had probably informed them that you were being held back, but probably without disclosing the real reason. 

you got rid of your uniform and changed into your pyjama. you took another glance at hermione, before you quietly walked to her bed and crawled under the blanket. she stirred a bit in her sleep, but didn’t wake up, as you pushed your face into the pillow next to her. 

you needed some sort of comfort and just knowing she was there was enough to send you to sleep, the exhaustion taking over before your mind could wander back to the nights events again. 

the next morning, the castle felt strangely quiet. you awoke after hermione, who had probably already left for breakfast or something else. for a moment, you simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the stillness linger. but the memories crept back in as they always did—professor burbage’s face, the coldness of the snow, and the horror that gripped you when you realized something was terribly wrong.

you slipped out of hermione’s bed, there was no point in staying any longer, pretending that a few more hours of sleep could wash away what had happened. your limbs felt heavy as you dressed, your mind replaying the details over and over. every time you closed your eyes, it was there again—her face, twisted with fear, and the blood, so much of it, on your hands.

downstairs, the common room was empty, except for theo, who was waiting for you. his back was turned, his posture rigid as he stared into the fireplace.

“theo” you said in surprise. he turned around and send you a soft smile. 

“i couldn’t sleep much” he muttered, “thought you might want some company”

“but the password?”

“it was way too easy to find out” he shook his head, laughing softly. “you guys should better change it” he added, a bit more worried, realizing the danger a security breach like that held. 

you quickly nodded, your eyes wandering over his features that softened when he noticed  the tears brimming in your eyes. 

he stepped closer, opening his arms, so you could cry against his chest. 

“i’m sorry” you muttered, ruffling your nose. “i’m sorry” 

“what for?” theo asked, voice calm and warm like he could send all your fears to sleep with a simple word. “you saw something terrible and rightfully it messed you up, it messed me up too” 

“i’m glad you here” you whispered and you could feel him nod his head. “you’re the only one who understands” 

“just like you” he smiled as you stepped back. “but i’m also here because of something else” he waited for your permission to explain. 

“go on” you urged, cleaning the left over tears from your face with the back of your hand. 

his hand went into the pocket of his trousers and he took out a folded piece of paper that he then held in your direction. you took it and opened it up. “professor burbage had that with her. outside” 

your eyes studied the symbol on the paper. it looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it. the lines were sharp, forming an intricate design that seemed purposeful, almost like a rune. your heart started to race as you stared at the symbol, trying to pull the memory from the back of your mind.

“i’ve seen this before” you whispered, but your voice was uncertain. “i don’t know where, but i’ve definitely seen it”

theo leaned closer, his eyes scanning the paper along with you. “i thought the same thing when i found it. it was clenched in her hand. almost like… like she was trying to hold on to it.”

“did dumbledore see this?” you asked alarmed. “why did you take it?” 

“i didn’t think properly before i did, it was the first thing that i saw, i realized only later that she had probably held it in her hand. otherwise it would’ve been wet”

“this is evidence, theo” you shook your head, brushing back your hair with the piece of paper still in your hand. “you can’t just take evidence from a crime scene!” you scolded.

“well, i didn’t know it was a crime scene when i took it” he excused. “apart from that, maybe the rune entails a secret message or something? something the killer could’ve used to get burbage outside” 

your eyes widened, before you quickly nodded. “okay” you pushed the paper back into his hand. “what do we do now? go to dumbledore and tell him?” “because that worked so great before” theo said softly, but you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“he just said that we can’t be sure it’s a murder” 

“well it looked like a bloody murder, didn’t it?” he grimaced, “all the blood” 

“yeah” you agreed. “it definetly did. but what do you suggest if we won’t tell dumbledore? who could we tell then?”

“no one” theo shrugged. “we keep it between us, until we find out more”

“find out more?” you asked surprised. “do i look like sherlock holmes to you?”

“no, but you come close to doctor watson” 

“ha ha” you shook your head and crossed your arms, before you thought fot a second. “alright” you finally said “let’s get some breakfast, i might know someone who can help with that” 

he nodded, ready to leave the common room, but you held him back by his arm. “but not together, no one should know what we’re trying to find out. and no word about professor burbage, we don’t even know if it’s public knowledge yet”

“okay” theo muttered. “for someone who claims to have no idea about this, it comes to you pretty naturally”

“i’ve read a lot” you shrugged, but couldn’t bite back the smile that crept onto your face. “come on” 

theo and you split up. you sat down at the gryffindor table next to ron and across from harry, while theo wandered off to the slytherin table to join his own friends.

“morning” harry greeted. “where have you been so long?” he wondered, before he raised his brows and touched your cheek. “have you been crying?” 

you shook your head, quickly wiping over your cheeks to get rid of the remaining wetness. “no” you muttered. you couldn’t even trust your own voice. theo and you had sworn not to tell anyone what you knew and that probably included your brother. he would find out soon enough anyway.

“good morning” dumbledores voice rang out loud and clear throughout the hall, before harry had the chance to question you further. “something terrible happened yesterday” he paused for a second, before he added. “professor burbage has been found dead”

ein raunen??? went through the hall, as gazes were exchanged and heavy whisper broke through. 

you looked at theo across from you. neither of you had thought that the teachers would share the news so fast.

“we can’t be sure what happened yet, but professor slughorn is currently trying to inform the aurors in the hope that we will soon have an answer to every question you might have” he smiled softly. “for now, please remain calm and—“

the door to the great hall flew open, revealing professor slughorn, who quickly hurried inside. “albus!” he called loudly, not caring who was listening “the castle—, it’s been” he shook his head, as if to try and rearrange his mind. “a terrible snowstorm has cut every tie to the outside world” he finished, having reached the teachers table, face reddened and trying to catch his breath. 

no one in the hall dared to matter a word, not even ron, as the three of you stared up at the teachers table where dumbledore and slughorn were hurriedly whispering with each other. 

“alright, alright” dumbledore nodded finally, as slughorn sank down in his seat. mcgonagall slightly tapped his shoulder in comfort, but slughorn looked like he was about to faint as he wept a hand through his thinning hair. 

“it seems like another problem just introduced itself” dumbledore’s smile was unwavering, but you noticed a hint of discomfort it in his face. the same discomfort he had worn the day before, when you had told him about professor burbage. “it’s seems that a magically forged storm has reached the hogwarts grounds. there is no need to worry, as this will be taken care of. as stated before, please remain calm and make sure to stay together and continue on with your day” 

“magically forged?” harry muttered. “and what about professor burbage? what does she have to do with everything?”

“i don’t know” you replied warily, locking eyes with theo across the hall, before you nodded to the door. “i have to go” you told harry and ron, before you got up to leave. 

“what? where?” harry tried to reach for your hand, but you drew it back quickly. “you’re acting strange, y/n. what’s going on?” 

“nothing” you shook your head, quickly searching for an answer that would leave him satisfied. “well, i have this uh— girl problem that i need to talk to hermione about” you eventually replied, acting as if you were embarassed. 

“oh” harry muttered, while ron’s cheeeks quickly grew rosy, as he averted his eyes. “okay, then go on” harry encouraged uncomfortably. “but, let me know if you need, uh, any help, yeah?” 

you nodded and finally left the hall with a last wave to your friends. “bye” they answered your greeting, before they quickly turned their heads, falling into conversation with neville and ginny. 

theo, who had caught your hint, met you in the corridor outside the great hall. “did you know they would tell everyone?” you blurtet out as soon as he arrived. 

“what? no” he shook his head. “what’s even worse is the storm. do you think there’s a connection?” 

“maybe the killer is not finished” you muttered, finger pressed to your chin, thinking. 

theo kept silent, watching you with wide eyes, as he thought about what you said. “that means—“

“yeah” you nodded “he’s still here and his next victim is too” 

“shit” theo shook his head, his hair moving and a few curls falling into his eyes. he tried to push them back, but it was to no use. his hair perfectly displayed how he was feeling on the inside. he sighed. “you might be right, but we have a chance to stop him, before anyone else gets hurt, so what do we do? you said you knew someone who could help with the rune?”

“hermione” you simply answered. 

“of course” theo smirked. “who else?” 

as you had expected hermione hadn’t been at breakfast, not so late in the morning at least. not even the approaching christmas feist was an excuse for her to rest. 

you found her in the library, sitting at a table, accompanied by various stacks of books. she was concentrating on a piece of parchment, as her finger expertelly swerved over the book in front of her. 

“wait” theo said, holding your arm, before you could walk around the shelf you were standing behind. 

“what?” 

“maybe i should wait here” theo shrugged. “we agreed to tell no one that we are trying to find out more, remember?” 

“yeah, uh, of course” you nodded, outstretching your hand to take the piece of paper with the rune on it into your own hand. 

“i’ll wait here” theo promised and you smiled at his assurence. 

hermione didn’t even look up when you called her name. she blessed you with ignorance, as she turned the page of her book. 

“oh, y/n” she finally said, when you repeated the calling. she pushed one of the stacks of books to the side, so she could have a proper look at you. “are you alright?” she asked, brows furrowed as she stared at you in deep concentration. 

you answered her question with a stunned expression to which she sighed, concluding she had to explain herself. “well, you slept in my bed last night, which you only do if you’re feeling unwell or scared” she paused and took another look at you “and you’re in the library before eleven” 

“maybe i just wanted to sleep next to someone?” you muttered, cheeks turning red as you thought about theo hearing that you had been so scared the night before you had to sleep in someone elses bed.

hermione shot you a look that clearly said, con’t be ridiculous. 

“okay, fine” you nodded. “professor burbage was found dead. i found her” 

“i know” hermione said as if you were talking about the weather. 

“how?” you asked confused. “dumbledore only announced it before i came here”

“you speak in your sleep” hermione informed. “i went here as soon as i finished eating. i’m trying to find out something about the magically forged snow storm outside”

“how did you—“

“my parent’s letter arrives every tuesday, eight a.m. sharp. this morning it didn’t” she shrugged. “that could only have two reasons: first, my parents forgot to send it, which they never did in six years and let’s be honest, they’re dentists”

you nodded, as if you understood the correlation between the punctuality of letters and dentists. 

“or” she went on “somehow the owls had a problem coming through, which they never had before, not in a thousand years” she pointed to the edition of a history of magic in front of you. “then i took a look outside and there it was: snowstorm” 

“yeah, okay” you nodded, impressed that she had found out all of that on her own. 

“so, what do you need my help with?”

“how do you—“

hermione sighed. heavy. “library, you, eleven a.m., remember?”

“sorry” you winced, before you held the piece of paper in her direction. “professor burbage held this in her hand when i found her”

“this is evi—“

“it’s just a copy” you quickly lied, not willing to risk her going to dumbledore about this. she was your best friend, but she was still hermione. 

hermione inspected the paper, before she sighed once more. “would you please tell nott to stop hiding behind the shelf? his eagerness is distracting me”

you didn’t even question how she knew about that, as theo stepped around the shelf and into the open. “hey, granger” 

“hello” hermione didn’t even aknowledge the boy, instead she kept staring at the rune. “so you were there too, huh?” she finally said, as she gave the paper back to you.

“huh?” theo muttered, taken aback by her question.

“how did she look?” hermione continued without being fazed by theo’s lack of an answer, it seemed that she had already made up her mind about his involvement. “was there blood?”

“a lot” you nodded.

“well, it was obviously murder” hermione concluded. “but not by magic as it seems.”

“so you don’t know what this is?” you asked. she had not mentioned anything about the rune. “i think i have seen it before, it seems familiar”

“of course i know what it is” hermione replied almost offended. “and you recognize it, because you have seen it before. it was the coat of arms for an old underground organization at hogwarts— the nocturne society”

“of course” theo smiled in recognition. “it apparently got forbidden a few years ago”

“and rightfully so” hermione nodded, as she pushed one of the opened book into yours and theo’s direction. “here. they had connections to the dark arts, sometimes ended in some real trouble”

you overflew the passages, which talked about various incidents where the doing of the organization had led to injuries or other incidents in the school and grounds around it. 

“well, why whould someone draw the coat of arms on a piece of paper and give that to professor burbage?” you wondered. 

“maybe to threaten her?” theo shrugged. 

“actually” hermione interrupted, her voice cutting through the room as she glanced between you and theo. “it’s warning a warning. there have been rumors that the organization had returned, with new members of course, but this was always their way of warning those who came too close to their business”

“so professor burbage might have found out about something she shouldn’t” you concluded. “but would one of them go as far as murder? i mean if it’s someone from the nocturne society it has to be a student, right?”

hermione nodded. “a students with a broken moral compass and no fear of rules”

“i think rules are the least of their worries, granger” theo laughed. 

hermione crossed her arms, unimpressed. “well, i wouldn’t know about any of those deliqeunts” she looked between the two of you, before she added “but i hear your friend riddle has a special appreciation for the dark arts—and certainly no less for forbidden underground organizations.”

you and theo exchanged a glance, before you nodded. “thank you hermione, you’ve been of great help” 

“of course” hermione smiled and you and theo got up to leave, but she held you back. “be careful with him” she send a pointed look against theo’s back. “someone who’s so close to people who practice the dark arts might not be far from practicing it himself. he could be dangerous, y/n” 

“i’ll be careful” you promised, intentionally ignoring everything else she said. “don’t mention it to harry”

“i won’t” hermione assured. “as long as you get out alive” 

you caught up with theo, before he had even noticed you were missing. hermione continued her research on the magically forged snowstorm as the both of you left the library and her behind. 

you found mattheo in the corridor to the slytherin corridor. he wasn’t alone, but heavily making out with a girl, which turned out to be millicent bulstrode. they didn’t noticed either theo or you as you approached. 

theo had to physically tear them apart, as repeatedly calling mattheo’s name didn’t work. 

“nott” mattheo groaned loudly, millicent still in his arms. she didn’t even acknowledge you.

mattheo furrowed his brows, as he noticed you behind theo. “potter” he exclaimed surprised. “came for a kiss, i suppose?” he kissed the air in front of him.

“hey!” millicent muttered, slapping a hand against mattheo’s chest, but making no move to leave. 

“we need to talk to you” theo said coldly, not impressed by mattheo’s attempt to flirt with you. 

“we?” mattheo laughed. “who’s we? you and potter dating now or what?”

“no” theo muttered between clenched teeth and even though you didn’t knew him well, you could tell that he was beginning to get angry. “we need to talk” he repeated. 

“well, you can talk to me later” mattheo smirked unimpressed. “i have other things to do” he took a look at millicent, before he returned his eyes to theo and you. “everyone has to wait their turn.”

“you disgust me, mattheo” theo spit, before he took your arm to lead you out of the dungeon. “come on, we’ll come back later”

you nodded, quickly tearing your eyes away from millicent and mattheo, who had already begun kissing again. “is he always like that?” you asked and theo sighed, before he nodded. 

“usually he is a bit more likeable” 

“i hardly believe that” you laughed and theo smiled at you. “but maybe we can use the spare time to look for more clues in professor burbages office”

“you think that is a good idea?” theo quirked a brow, clearly challenging you. 

“well, you thought investigating a murder was a good idea, so i won’t take any judgement from you” 

theo laughed and you thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. you found it almost unbelievable how close the two of you had grown over the span of hours. theo had been practically a stranger all those years you had spent in the same school, but now he felt like he was the closest friend you had. trauma was a really bonding experience it seemed. 

professor burbages office was right behind her classroom. a small staircase led up to the door, that held all the clues you were searching for. 

“it’s locked” theo concluded when he tried opening the door. 

“did you bring your wand?” you asked, but theo shook his head and you had to do the same, after he returned the question. 

“well” you smiled, kneeling down in front of the keyhole. “then we need to do it the muggle way” you grabbed one of the bobbypins out of your hair and pushed it open, leaving a long and thing metal stem. you picked the lock expertly and the door sprung open in a matter of seconds. 

“where did you learn this?” theo asked surprised by the unusual skill. 

“my aunt loved to look the kitchen when harry and i were children” you shrugged. “sometimes we were so hungry, there was no other way”

theo nodded and you missed the look of compassion on his face, when you walked into the office before him.  

once in the office, you split up, each of you searching a different half of the room. 

you sorted through a stack of paper in the cabinet that stood at the back of the room, when you heard theo sigh loudly. 

“this is just a bunch of school stuff” he muttered. “i had hoped for something clearer”

“like what?” you laughed. 

“i don’t know” he shrugged, as he opened another drawer. “maybe a death threat?”

“i think the killer might be a bit smarter than that” you exclaimed, right as your eyes fell on an opened bottle on the dresser next to you. you raised your brows, before you took the bottle into your hand.  

to burbage— for when the pressure gets too much. consider this a parting gift.

you frowned, rereading the cryptic message. "parting gift?" you glanced at the wine again, and suspicion clawed at your thoughts.

suddenly, a sickening realization dawned on you. the note wasn't a friendly gesture—it was ominous, almost mocking. as you examined the bottle closer, a faint but unmistakable scent lingered in the air—bitter almonds.

poison.

“theo,” you called, your voice tight as you held up the bottle. “come look at this—”

but before you could finish, a loud noise echoed from outside the office. both of you froze. heavy footsteps approached. they weren’t casual, nor hesitant. they were deliberate.

theo shot you a sharp look, his hand instinctively moving toward professor burbage’s wand that was still laying on top of her desk. you quickly placed the bottle back on the dresser, your heart pounding in your chest.

the footsteps grew louder, closer. someone was coming. someone who might have known exactly what you were about to find.

theo moved to the door, his face tense as he mouthed. “what now?”

before you could answer, the handle to the office door rattled.

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just friends | m.r. x reader

prompt: Can you do a Mattheo riddle friends to lovers. And Draco asks you out then Mattheo gets jealous and him and Draco have a fight and you help clean all his cuts and stuff? If you can’t that’s fine though ❤️

warnings: mentions of blood, angst, fluff

word count: ~1.5k

a/n: i forgot about the requests i had saved in my google doc so here's one sorry guys.

People thought you and Mattheo being best friends was odd at first. Upon first meeting, people assumed you were quiet and sweet and slow to anger. However when a girl tried to push you around in second year and you landed a hard right hook to her nose, people stopped questioning your friendship and started questioning when you guys were going to start dating. 

You both often played those comments off, saying you were best friends nothing more. Not knowing the other was desperate for the change in relationship status. 

So when Draco asked you to Hogsmead one weekend, you didn’t really have a reason to say no. However when Mattheo found out, he had a less than pleasant response. 

“Are you seriously going with him?” Mattheo was ripping pieces of parchment and throwing them in the fire. You laid across the couch, handing him a new sheet of parchment when he’d finish the other. 

“It’s just Hogsmead, Teo. I’m not betrothed to your cousin,” you tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. Mattheo was grumbling in response. 

You sat up on your elbows, “What was that?” Mattheo shook his head, standing up from the floor, “Nothing. Have fun with cousin, tomorrow. Can’t wait to hear all about it.” 

He walked off towards the hall, sounding very much like a stomping toddler and not like he was excited to hear about how your date went tomorrow afternoon. You huffed out an annoyed sigh, deciding to head back to your own dorm. Pansy was sitting atop her bed when you came in and slammed the door behind you. 

“Care to tell the doctor why you’re so peeved?” Pansy sat up at the head of her bed. You groaned, flopping yourself face first on her mattress, mumbling into her duvet. “Come again, dear?” 

You rolled over, staring at the top of her four poster, “Mattheo is being an arsehole.” Pansy couldn’t help but snort, “Tell me something new, Y/n/n.” You groaned again, “He’s never an arse to me, like never ever. Not like he just was. I don’t know what his problem is. Shouldn’t he be happy that my date is at least with someone he knows and likes? I could’ve had a date with Diggory, or even,” you faked a gag, “Potter.” 

Pansy couldn’t help the laugh that emitted from her throat, “I think you’re reaction alone let’s everyone know that the latter would never be an option.” You smiled weakly at her, “Yeah, suppose you’re right.” You sat up now, tucking your feet under you, “I just don’t get what the big deal is. He’s adamant that he and I are just friends, so why get mad when I finally get a date?” 

Pansy looked at you dumbfounded, “Y/n/n, please tell me you’re not that daft.” Your jaw dropped slightly, “What do you mean?” It was Pansy’s turn to groan, “If you can’t see it, I’m not telling you. You’re just going to have to pay more attention.”

You sighed out in annoyance, getting up from her bed and changing into your pyjamas. Pansy dropped the subject, as did you. You laid your head down on your pillow, doing your best to get Mattheo’s judgemental tone out of your mind, which only caused your dreams to be filled with him. 

Your trip to Hogsmead was actually really nice. Draco was a complete gentleman, helping you into and out of the carriage, holding the doors open for you, buying your favorite candies, even buying your lunch and butter beer. 

On the ride back in the carriage, you thanked Draco for a lovely afternoon. He smiled shyly, “Of course, Y/n/n. A beautiful girl like you deserves to be given all the attention and doted on dutifully.” You smiled bashfully, “You’re very kind, Draco.” Draco reached for your hand as you stepped out of the carriage at the doors of the castle. 

You took it, thanking him again as you stepped back to the ground. You opened your mouth to say something when suddenly Draco was ripped from in front of you. You took a shocked step back, trying to focus on the two bodies rolling around on the ground when you noticed it was Mattheo that attacked him. 

Draco and Mattheo were landing blows back and forth. While Mattheo was a few months younger, he was larger, muscular wise than Draco. You worried a bit for Draco, but when he landed an elbow in Mattheo’s ribs, causing him to roll off Draco, the blonde boy stood, walking toward you. 

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Draco cut you off, wiping the blood from his bottom lip, “You two need to sort whatever the fuck you are.” He turned back to look at Mattheo getting up from the ground before turning back to you, “I suggest you take him back to your dorm and clean him up. Have a fucking conversation.” 

You looked back toward Mattheo, who was now looking at the ground. You walked over, grabbing his wrist, “C’mon, Teo. I’ll clean you up.” The walk back to your dorm was silent sans for the sound of both your boots on the corridor floors. When you got to your dorm you led him to the edge of your bed, motioning for him to sit while you got some supplies from the ensuite bathroom. 

When you came back, you opened the first aid kit, grabbing some gauze and soaking it in healing potion. You dabbed the gauze on the bridge of his nose where a fresh cut was now open. Mattheo winced away, “Fucking Salazars dick, Y/n/n, that fucking burns!” 

You grabbed hold of his chin, turning his face toward you again, “Well I wouldn’t even have to do this if you didn’t mindlessly attack Draco. What was that, Teo?” Mattheo avoided your eyes, looking off to the side. 

Your fingers gave his cheeks a gentle squeeze before dabbing his nose again, he winced slightly before meeting your eyes, “You shouldn’t have gone to Hogsmead with him.” You watched as the potion closed the cut on his nose, a pink scar now taking its place. 

You grabbed one of his hands, holding your wand above it, “And why’s that?” Mattheo watched as you waved your wand, quietly muttering a healing spell that closed the cuts over his knuckles leading to fresh scars being formed there, “Because you should have gone with me.” 

Golden brown eyes met yours when you finally looked up, “Teo, we’ve gone to Hogsmead together a bunch of times. Why was this one any different.” Mattheo shook his head, “No, y/n/n, you’re…ugh, you’re not getting it. I don’t want to go with you as your friend. I-I kind of…fancy you.” 

You couldn’t help it when your eyes widened a bit, a small small forming on your face, “You kind of fancy me?” You saw Mattheo’s shoulders physically relax, a smile forming on his lips, “Okay, I really fancy you.” 

You set your wand down on the nightstand before taking a step closer to Mattheo, now fully nestled in between his open legs. “And how long have you really fancied me, Mr. Riddle?” You played with the collar of his t-shirt. You really did love it when Mattheo dressed more casually, you’ll have to tell him. 

Mattheo was feeling more confident now, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs, "Are you gonna hit me if I say a year?" Your eyebrows shot up, "A year? Mattheo Marvelo are you telling me we could've been dating for a year now but you were to wuss to say anything to me?"

At first he opened his mouth to apologize, but his brain quickly made the connections to what your statement alluded, "Y/n Y/m/n, are you saying that you have also fancied me for the last year?"

It was your turn to act reserved, "I mean...yes?" Mattheo's hands on your thighs gave a quick squeeze, causing your to squeal and grab his wrists.

Mattheo smiled at your giggles, now bringing his hands to either side of your face, "Well, looks like we've got lots to make up for, don't we love."

You nodded your head, closing the gap between the two of you, finally allowing your lips to connect with your best friend you've been pining over for the last year