You're Not Your Father

You're Not Your Father

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Mattheo doesn't believe he makes y/n feel safe because he's Voldys son and y/n makes him see that Mattheo is not like Voldy

w/c: 1289

Mattheo Riddle stood in the dimly lit corridor, leaning against the cold stone wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes, usually so intense, softened as they met mine. I approached cautiously, my footsteps echoing in the quiet until I was close enough to see the faint worry etched on his face.

"I make you feel... safe?" Mattheo repeated, his voice gruff and filled with disbelief. He balked at the idea, furrowing his brow. "You're sure? Me?"

I smiled, a small, gentle curve of my lips. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to reassure him, but I held back for now. "You seem all gruff and angry, Mattheo, but you do honestly care about me. At least it feels like you do."

His jaw tightened, and he looked down at the ground, a heavy silence settling between us. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle to reconcile what I was saying with the image he had of himself. How could he not see what I saw? To him, he was nothing more than the son of the Dark Lord, destined to carry on his father’s legacy. Darkness had always been his identity, his fate.

"You don't understand," he muttered, frustration and desperation lacing his voice. "I’m not the kind of person who makes anyone feel safe. I'm not... good."

My heart ached hearing him say that. I knew he believed it, but I couldn’t let him think that way. I took a step closer, refusing to let him retreat into the shadows. "I know who you are, Mattheo. I know who your father is. But you’re not him."

His reaction was immediate—he recoiled slightly, his eyes narrowing as if my words had struck him. "I'm his son," he snapped back, anger flaring. "I have his blood, his darkness. People fear me because of him—because they think I’ll become him."

His voice was filled with a raw anger that made my chest tighten. But beneath that anger, I could hear the fear, the doubt. He was so used to being seen as a threat, as someone to be feared, that he couldn’t comprehend the idea of being anything else.

"But you’re not him," I insisted, my voice firm but gentle. I stepped closer, my heart pounding in my chest as I reached out to him. My fingers brushed against his, and I could feel the tension in his body. "You’re not defined by him, no matter what anyone says. You get to choose who you are."

Mattheo shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, but his voice wavered, the conviction in his words faltering. "I can’t be anything but this. It’s in my blood."

I could see the war raging inside him—the fear that he was doomed to follow in his father’s footsteps, that darkness was his destiny. But I refused to let him believe that. I took another step closer, my hand gently intertwining with his. He didn’t pull away, and that gave me hope.

"You’re not your father, Mattheo," I whispered, my voice filled with all the emotion I’d been holding back. "You’re your own person. You have a choice. And I see you—the real you."

For a moment, he just stared at me, his dark eyes searching mine as if trying to find some hint of deception. But there was none. I meant every word. I saw past the cold exterior, past the reputation he carried like a shield. I saw the boy who cared, who was capable of so much more than he gave himself credit for.

Slowly, he exhaled, the tension in his body starting to ease. "Maybe," he started, his voice barely above a whisper, "maybe you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like I could be that person."

I smiled, a small tear slipping down my cheek as I closed the distance between us. I reached up, gently cupping his cheek in my hand. He leaned into my touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment, as if he was allowing himself to believe it too.

"You don’t have to be anyone else," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. "Just be you. That’s enough for me."

For the first time, I saw something in Mattheo's eyes that I hadn’t seen before—hope. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there. And as we stood there, in the shadows of the castle, I knew that maybe, just maybe, I could be the light he needed to guide him out of the darkness he had lived in for so long.

He opened his eyes again, and for a moment, we just stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke louder than any words ever could. I could feel the heat of his skin against my palm, the subtle tremor of his breath as he struggled to hold onto the fragile hope I’d offered him. It was as if he was standing on the edge of a precipice, torn between stepping back into the safety of the darkness he knew so well and daring to reach for the light I held out to him.

"You don’t understand what it’s like," he finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Every day, I feel like I’m fighting against something inside me, something that’s always trying to pull me under. It’s like there’s this darkness in my blood, in my very soul, and no matter how hard I try, it’s always there, waiting to take over."

I tightened my grip on his hand, my heart breaking for him. "You’re stronger than you think, Mattheo," I said softly. "You’ve been fighting that darkness your whole life, and you’re still here. That takes strength. You’re not alone in this fight anymore. I’m here with you."

His eyes widened slightly, as if the idea of having someone by his side, someone who truly cared about him, was something completely foreign. "Why?" he asked, his voice barely more than a breath. "Why would you want to help me? I’m... dangerous. I’m the son of Voldemort, Y/N. I’m not someone you should be around."

I shook my head, feeling a fierce determination rise within me. "You’re not your father," I repeated, my voice steady. "You’re Mattheo. And I see you. I see the person you are, not the person you’re afraid you might become. You have a good heart, no matter how much you try to hide it. And I’m not going to walk away just because it’s hard. I’m not afraid of you, Mattheo."

The silence stretched between us again, thick with unspoken emotions. I could see the turmoil in his eyes, the way he struggled to accept what I was saying. But I also noticed something else—something that made my heart swell with hope. For the first time, he looked like he wanted to believe me, like he was daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be something more than his father’s legacy.

Tentatively, he lifted his other hand to cover mine, holding it against his cheek as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality. "I don’t know how to be anything else," he admitted, his voice trembling. "But I want to try... for you."

I smiled, my heart swelling with a mixture of relief and love. "That’s all I ask," I whispered, my thumb brushing gently against his skin. "Just try. I’ll be here every step of the way."

And at that moment, as we stood together in the shadows, I realised that we were both finding something we hadn’t known we were looking for—a sense of safety and belonging in each other.

hint on the next fic

Quick Realizations

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Mattheo Riddle has always known everything about everyone—except his own feelings. When a playful conversation turns into an unexpected confession, Mattheo realises he might like you more than just as a friend.

w/c: 1287

a/n: send in requests pls I have no clue what to write about

To no one's surprise, Mattheo knows almost everything.

For example, he knows that he's your best friend.

He knows that you prefer studying by the Black Lake rather than in the library, that you secretly adore Herbology even though you complain about the dirt, and that you like sneaking out after curfew just to wander the castle halls at night. He also knows that Pansy has been in a better mood since Draco complimented her new potion-brewed perfume, and that Theo's been practicing his wandwork more than usual because he's been trying to impress a certain Ravenclaw in Charms class.

Simply put, Mattheo knows everything about everyone.

"And then what did she do?" He leans back against the stone bench, casually tossing a stray pebble into the lake, watching as the water ripples outward.

"We just talked afterward," you shrug, watching as a pair of first years try to coax the Giant Squid to the surface. "It was nice catching up with her; it's been a while."

"I bet. She's a nightmare," Mattheo chuckles, popping a chocolate frog into his mouth as he speaks. He chews thoughtfully for a moment before glancing over at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh!" Your eyes brighten as you recall something, turning to face him.

You can't help but burst into laughter when you see his face, but you quickly compose yourself, keeping your smile in check. "She also said the funniest thing—she said that she thought you had feelings for me!"

His eyes widen in surprise, his jaw dropping ever so slightly. "That's ridiculous."

"I know, right?" You snicker, adjusting your scarf as a cold breeze sweeps across the grounds. He joins you in laughter, the idea of liking you as more than a friend clearly absurd to him.

"Hahaha!"

"Hahaha!"

But as your laughter dies down, his smile falters.

"Theo, what do I do?!"

His roommate sits at a desk in the Slytherin common room, poring over a detailed Quidditch strategy diagram. His brows are furrowed in concentration as he plans out moves for the upcoming match against Gryffindor.

"Just tell her."

"I’ll hex you into next week."

"If it’s between you being a miserable pain in my arse and getting hexed, I’ll take the hex, mate," Theo mutters, not bothering to look up from his plans.

Mattheo raises an eyebrow. "Why are you so sure you’re going to get hexed?"

"Because I’m associated with you," Theo replies dryly, finally glancing up from his Quidditch strategy with a smirk. "Help me out first, and then curse me later. C'mon, don't be stingy."

"I literally already gave you advice, just tell her how you feel."

"One small problem with that."

"What now?"

"I—" Mattheo opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find the right words. He eventually settles on giving Theo an innocent smile. "Well, I actually don't know if I like her like that? It was an in-the-moment realization kind of thing, but now I'm just confused—"

Theo lets out an exasperated sigh, tossing his quill aside and turning fully to face Mattheo. "Are you serious?" He glares at Mattheo, disbelief etched across his face. "She can’t even brew a simple potion without asking for your help, and you’re practically useless in class if you can’t sit next to her! You two have the most ridiculous relationship I’ve ever seen!"

Mattheo crosses his arms, frowning. Theo sighs again, rubbing his temples. "...Respectfully, of course."

"Talk rubbish about her again and I'll jinx you into a toad. I'm serious."

"That’s literally my point."

"That doesn’t mean you get to be mean! Take it back!"

Theo bites back a retort, narrowing his eyes at his friend. "For someone who’s so observant," he says slowly, "you know nothing."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Mattheo’s eyes narrow, suddenly on the defensive.

"Well," Theo shrugs nonchalantly, "I’ve noticed that Comrac McLaggen has been showing a lot of interest in her lately. He might even confess soon, who knows? Maybe even today."

Mattheo stares at Theo, completely stunned by the revelation. His mind races as he processes his friend’s words; Theo can practically see the exact moment the realization dawns on him. Like a flash, Mattheo jumps to his feet.

"Theo, I’ve got to go! Good luck with the Quidditch match!"

"Gryffindor's not going to know what hit them."

But before he can finish, Mattheo is already out the door.

The key to your dorm unlocks itself, and right on time, Mattheo bursts through the door, slightly out of breath, his hair messier than usual from the wind.

"What’s this—?" You barely get the words out before Mattheo grabs your shoulders, his eyes wide as he searches yours for a moment before blurting out, "I like you."

You blink, taken aback by his sudden confession, but he doesn’t give you time to respond before he continues.

"I was going back and forth with Theo, and honestly, he messed with my head a bit, but I’ve come to a decision, and I know I like you. So don’t even think about dating Comrac, he’s a decent bloke and all, but he’s not right for you. And besides, if you dated him, you'd have to deal with his mates, and that sounds like a nightmare."

You knew who Comrac was, but you stay silent to let him continue speaking. Mattheo was always the more talkative one between the two of you (he’s also the one with the warmer smile, which is funny because his hands feel like ice against your sweater).

His hands move from your shoulders to your arms, and he swallows nervously. "I’m usually not this anxious around you, y'know," he admits, words tumbling out in a rush, "normally I feel at ease talking to you, but right now I feel like I’m going to pass out."

"Did you run here from the common room?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, Mattheo!" You soften instantly, placing your hand on his cheek. He leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he sighs in relief. You frown at his recklessness, "You know how much running through the castle exhausts you. Why didn’t you just use the Floo network?"

"I just really wanted to see you." He pouts, opening his eyes to look at you with a vulnerability that makes your heart melt. "Like I said, Theo really messed with my head."

"I’m going to jinx him."

"Please do."

"And Mattheo?"

"Hm?"

It’s really sweet, actually—how he’s forgotten about his whole reason for coming here. But you can’t blame him too much; he’s just dashed through half the castle after battling his own nerves, and every hero deserves a reward for their courage. Especially Mattheo, who more than deserves a happy ending, and you couldn’t be more thrilled to give one to him.

"I like you too, by the way. Theo may be a little meddlesome, but he’s got great intuition; I was actually about to head to your dorm to tell you."

He gasps. "But running exhausts you!"

You smile sheepishly. "I guess I just really wanted to see you."

His jaw drops for the tenth time that day, and he pulls you into a tight hug, burying his head into your neck, murmuring against your shoulder. "I love you, I love you, I love—"

"I love you too." You smile because you do love him. He’s been your best friend since first year, your partner in crime through every adventure, the boy you admired before you even understood what admiration was. "Since you’re here, want to watch a movie? I’ve got that Muggle DVD player you’re always curious about."

"Absolutely!"

As he hums to himself, cutting up some Honeydukes sweets for your impromptu movie session.

first i wanna say i love your writing<3 if you’re taking requests i was wondering if you can do a theo calling the reader clingy because he’s stressed, then reader completely stops being “clingy”/ affectionate and he realizes he messed up and tries to make it up, if that makes sense? you can end it how ever you want!! again love your work ♡ ♡ ♡

Hii thank youu <3 yepp, heree sorry it took so long

Easier to Hate

Theo Nott x fem reader

Summary: Based on this ask thank you anon <33

a/n: Might do a part 2 maybe they end up together???

w/c: 900

The echoing corridors of the Ministry of Magic were a far cry from the stone walls of Hogwarts, yet they held an air of familiarity that you found unsettling. You never imagined that after leaving school, you’d be working in the same department as Theodore Nott—the one person who had managed to make your Hogwarts years both challenging and infuriating.

You had always been at odds. As a Ravenclaw, your pride in your intellect and your drive for success had clashed spectacularly with Theo’s Slytherin cunning and ambition. He was sharp, relentless, and always seemed to find a way to undercut your achievements, often with a smirk that made your blood boil. But beneath the rivalry, there had been something else—a tension that neither of you had ever dared to acknowledge.

Now, years later, you found yourself standing outside your new office, staring at the nameplate next to the door: "Theodore Nott."

Before you could knock, the door swung open, and there he stood, looking as though no time had passed. Tall, with dark hair and piercing eyes that still held that same unsettling intensity. But there was something else there too—a shadow, a heaviness that hadn’t been there before.

“You’re late,” Theo remarked, his tone clipped. There was no smirk this time, just a weariness that surprised you.

You stepped inside, forcing a smile. “Some things never change, do they?”

His lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “No, I suppose they don’t.”

The first few weeks were exactly what you expected—tense. You and Theo fell back into your old patterns, arguing over nearly every detail of your work. It was exhausting, but you told yourself it was better this way. It was easier to fight with Theo than to deal with the mess of emotions that had lingered between you since Hogwarts.

One evening, after a particularly heated argument over a case file, you snapped. “Why do you always have to be like this? Why can’t we just work together for once?”

He froze, his expression darkening. “Because working together with you means admitting that I care.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings. Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his confession pressing down on you.

“What are you talking about?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Theo looked away, his jaw clenched. “You don’t get it, do you? All those years at Hogwarts, all those fights—it wasn’t because I hated you. It was because I didn’t know how to deal with what I felt.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “What are you saying?”

He finally met your gaze, and the raw emotion in his eyes made your heart ache. “I’m saying that I was a coward. I was afraid of what you made me feel, so I pushed you away. I thought that if I could beat you, I could ignore it. But I couldn’t.”

The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of his words suffocating. You had spent years convincing yourself that Theo was nothing more than a rival, someone to compete with and defeat. But now, faced with the truth, you realized that the anger, the frustration, had always been masking something deeper—something you had been too afraid to confront.

“Theo…” you began, but your voice broke.

He shook his head, stepping back as if the distance could protect him. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re different people, and this—whatever it was—it’s too late.”

The pain in his voice cut through you like a knife, and you felt your eyes sting with unshed tears. You had always been proud of your ability to stay composed, to never let anyone see how deeply they affected you. But here, in this moment, all those defenses crumbled.

“Maybe it’s not too late,” you said, your voice trembling. “Maybe we just need to stop pretending we hate each other.”

For a moment, you thought he might agree, that the years of bitterness and regret could be washed away by this confession. But then he looked at you, his expression hardening.

“It’s easier to hate you,” he said quietly, and the words felt like a slap. “Because if I don’t, then I have to face the fact that I’ve wasted years fighting against the only person who ever really challenged me, who ever really mattered.”

The silence that followed was unbearable, heavy with all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. You wanted to tell him that you felt the same, that you had spent years burying your feelings because it was easier than dealing with the pain of loving someone who seemed to hate you.

But before you could speak, Theo turned away, his voice hollow. “Let’s just get back to work.”

And with that, the moment was gone, the chance for anything more slipping through your fingers like sand. You watched him retreat into the safety of his desk, the familiar walls of professionalism rising up between you once again.

As you sat down to work, the ache in your chest only grew, a reminder of all the things left unsaid and all the years wasted on a rivalry that had been nothing more than a mask for something far more complicated.

You both continued to work together, but the air between you was different now—thicker, tinged with the unspoken regret and the weight of all the missed opportunities. And as much as you tried to focus on your work, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had lost something precious, something that might never be found again.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the tension between you only grew, you found yourself wondering if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late after all. Maybe there was still a chance to turn things around, to let go of the past and build something new—something real.

The only question was whether Theo was willing to take that chance with you, or if you were destined to remain enemies.

One More Chance

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Y/n stumbles upon Mattheo while going to the library after they broke up but Mattheo wants One More Chance in their relationship

w/c: 832

The dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts were quiet, the echo of footsteps bouncing off the ancient stone walls as Y/N made her way towards the library. The evening was drawing in, the golden light from the setting sun filtering through the narrow windows and casting long shadows. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, more out of habit than need—after all, it was late autumn, and the chill had only just started to creep in.

As she turned the corner, she nearly bumped into someone. Y/N took a step back, her breath catching when she recognized who it was.

"Mattheo," she greeted, her voice coming out steadier than she felt. She hadn't expected to run into him, not here, not now. Her pulse quickened, memories she had tried so hard to bury threatening to resurface.

Mattheo Riddle stood there, hands shoved into the pockets of his robe, his dark eyes watching her intently. There was a glimmer of something—mischief, perhaps?—that danced behind his gaze, something that had always drawn her in. His tousled curls and easy smirk were as infuriatingly attractive as ever.

"Y/N," he replied, his voice smooth, carrying a hint of surprise that he didn't bother to mask. "Fancy running into you here."

She stiffened slightly, unwilling to let herself be swayed by the familiar charm in his tone. She had built walls around her heart since they had parted ways, and she wasn't about to let him chip away at them again.

"I was just heading to the library," she said coolly, sidestepping him. "Excuse me."

But Mattheo moved too, blocking her path. "In a hurry?"

Y/N sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "What do you want, Mattheo?"

He tilted his head, studying her as if trying to unravel a mystery. "I just wanted to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," she retorted, keeping her tone brisk, despite the way her heart thudded in her chest.

"Is that so?" Mattheo mused, not moving an inch. "You don't still have feelings for me, do you?"

The question caught her off guard. Heat rose to her cheeks, but she forced herself to meet his gaze with a sharp glare. "Oh, why would I? We broke it off for a reason, didn't we?"

Mattheo's smirk faltered, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, the bravado dropped. "We did. But it doesn't mean it was easy. Or that it didn't matter."

Y/N felt her resolve wavering, memories of late-night conversations, shared secrets, and stolen kisses flooding her mind. She had convinced herself that ending things was for the best, that they were too different, that he was too reckless and she too cautious. But the truth was that she had never really let go of him.

She shook her head, determined to keep her emotions in check. "It doesn't matter anymore, Mattheo. We made our choices."

He sighed, his posture relaxing as he leaned back against the wall. "Maybe. But I can't help but wonder…if we made the right ones."

Her heart clenched at his words, but she forced herself to stay firm. "You can't change the past."

"Maybe not," he conceded, "but the future? That's still up for grabs."

Y/N bit her lip, torn between the desire to walk away and the pull of what could be. The chemistry between them had always been undeniable, a spark that never quite fizzled out, even after they parted ways.

"Why are you saying this now?" she asked, her voice softer, almost vulnerable. "What's changed?"

Mattheo looked at her with a seriousness she hadn't seen before. "I realized that letting you go was a mistake. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I can't shake the feeling that we gave up too easily."

She stared at him, unsure of what to say. Part of her had hoped he would say something like this, while the other part was terrified of reopening old wounds. "Mattheo…"

He stepped closer, his voice low, earnest. "I'm not asking for everything to go back to the way it was. But I am asking for a second chance. To see if we can figure this out, together."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she looked up into his eyes. She saw sincerity there, a glimmer of the boy she had fallen for mixed with the man he was becoming. The future was uncertain, but as she stood there, she realized that maybe, just maybe, it was worth taking the risk.

"Alright," she whispered, barely believing her own words. "One more chance."

A slow, genuine smile spread across Mattheo's face, one that made her heart skip a beat. "One more chance," he echoed, his voice filled with promise.

And as they stood there, in the quiet corridor of Hogwarts, it felt like the beginning of something new—something that had been left unfinished, but was now ready to be written.