When Mattheo and you stepped into the castle for the first time, the whispers started immediately.

"The Riddle twins…"

"Another set of dark prodigies."

"They’ll follow in Tom’s footsteps, just wait."

Everyone expected you and Mattheo to be just like your older brother, Tom Jr.—calculated, cold, and above all, loyal to the Dark Lord. But by the time the next year rolled around, it became very clear—neither of you had any intention of living under your father’s shadow.

You and Mattheo strived to make a different name for yourselves. You were the chaotic Riddles, the ones who lived for mischief, for adventure, for absolute madness. You weren’t feared like your older brother—you were loved, respected, and even adored.

Students from all houses wanted to be around you. And it wasn’t just because of your wild reputations.

Unlike your who was obsessed about power and blood supremacy, the two of you shared differing viewpoints.

"Blood purity?" Mattheo scoffed once in the Great Hall. "That’s rich coming from a bunch of weak-minded idiots who need magic to feel important."

That had nearly started a duel between the entire Slytherin table, but you had only laughed, pulling Mattheo away before he could break someone’s nose.

Even when your father regained power, you and Mattheo stood your ground, and were ready to fight together.

"You know," he mutters, "we could’ve taken the easy way out. Followed Tom. Took the power he offered."

You glance at him, brow raised. "And be miserable little shadows living in his world?"

He lets out a quiet chuckle. "Yeah. Fück that."