It had been three months now. Three long, unsettling months of cryptic text messages and unexpected gifts showing up in your dorm. At first, it had been strange—unnerving, even. But eventually, it became routine. A part of your life.

Whoever it was… they were watching you. Always.

The texts came daily—sometimes sweet, sometimes dark. Warning you. Claiming to protect you. The random presents were just as unpredictable: a velvet box with an enchanted charm one day, a bouquet of black roses the next. And while none of it had ever hurt you directly, it was getting harder to ignore the chilling fact that this person knew everything. Where you were. Who you were with. What you were doing.

One thing was certain: the person didn’t like you talking to other guys. You learned that the hard way. The first time you brushed off their warning and kept chatting with a Ravenclaw in the courtyard, the next day he ended up in the hospital wing—battered and bruised, claiming he’d been jumped from behind. You hadn’t told anyone… not really. Just Pansy.

Like you, she was concerned—at first. But now? It had become more of a mystery. A twisted little game the two of you tried to solve together.

Who was it?

They had to be a Slytherin. They knew too much. Your schedule, your room, your habits. But no one had come forward. No one had slipped up.

⸻

Now, in the flickering glow of the Slytherin common room’s fireplace, you sat curled up on the green velvet couch with Pansy, the two of you locked in yet another round of guesswork.

“So what happened today?” Pansy asked her voice was casual, but her eyes were sharp as she leaned toward you.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated.

“A snake pendant necklace. Just left on my bed. Looked expensive, too.”

“Ooh, maybe it’s Draco. You know he has the vault for it.” She raised a brow, lips quirking into a teasing smirk.

You shook your head immediately.

“No, it’s not him. I got a message while I was talking to Draco and a few others. He didn’t even have his phone on him.”

Pansy groaned, sinking back into the couch with a dramatic sigh.

“Merlin… do you think they’ll ever reveal themselves?”

You didn’t answer right away. Your eyes lingered on the firelight dancing across the stone floor, lips pressing into a thoughtful line.

“Honestly? I don’t know anymore…”

What you didn’t see—what you were completely unaware of—was the pair of eyes watching you from the shadows near the far end of the common room.

Mattheo Riddle sat with a few of his housemates, a glass of firewhisky cradled lazily in his hand. His gaze drifted toward you in quiet intervals, a dark flicker of possessiveness buried just behind the calm mask he wore.

He heard everything.

And he wasn’t planning on staying in the shadows forever.