It’s a humid summer evening, the kind that seems to hang in the air like a thick blanket. The beat of the music pulses through the floorboards of the old, creaky house, a melody of laughter and chatter filling the spaces in between. This was the first time in years that all of you had gathered—an overdue reunion of friends who had grown up and grown apart since the war ended and Hogwarts was left behind.

You find yourself leaning against the doorframe, drink in hand, surveying the room. The dim lights cast a warm glow over familiar faces, now etched with the experiences of adulthood. It’s a strange blend of nostalgia and novelty, seeing everyone so changed yet so unmistakably the same.

In the midst of the revelry, your eyes are inevitably drawn to Mattheo Riddle. He stands by the makeshift bar, a roguish smile playing on his lips as he chats with Theodore and Draco. Those chocolate brown eyes, still holding that mischievous glint, scan the room with a casual confidence. His unruly curls fall into his face, and you watch as he absentmindedly pushes them back, revealing a singular dimple that deepens when he laughs.

It’s been years since you’ve seen him, but the sight of him stirs something within you. Mattheo has always had that effect. The Riddle name might carry a heavy burden, but the man before you is more complex than any legacy could define. Aggressive, yes, and angry at times, but there’s a gentleness to him that you’ve always seen—an undeniable softness beneath the hard exterior.

As you take a sip from your drink, you see him glance your way. His eyes linger for a moment longer than casual observation would allow, and a familiar, playful smirk tugs at his lips. The room around you seems to fade as he makes his way over, cutting through the crowd with an ease that only Mattheo possesses.

“Long time no see,” he says, his voice carrying that deep, smooth timbre you remember all too well. “You look… different.”