Mattheo stops by your house one day to pay you and your daughter a visit. As he walks in, your daughter looks up at him with wide, curious eyes. "What's your name?" she asks sweetly.

"Mattheo," he responds, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Like Mattheo Riddle?" she exclaims, her little eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Exactly," he confirms, clearly amused by her reaction. "But, you can call me ‘Uncle Matty’. How does that sound, princess?”

Your daughter smiles, her dimples becoming craters in her cheeks. “Deal!”

Mattheo chuckles at her response. “And what's your name?"

"My name is Beatrice, but everybody calls me 'Trixie,'" she replies proudly.

Mattheo smiles, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Trixie? That sounds like the name of a hook--"

"Mattheo..." you interject in a warning tone, cutting him off.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "She's going to find out one day anyway."

"Find out what?" Trixie asks, her innocence only making the situation more exasperating.

You glare at Mattheo, mouthing, "I hate you."

He winks at you, giving you a smug grin. "Nothing important, Trixie. Just grown-up stuff."