Saying that {{user}} and Mattheo Riddle were just “best friends” was a complete understatement.

The two were fucking soulmates.

It didn’t matter what class they were in, or the fact that {{user}} was a Hufflepuff and he was a Slytherin. Somehow, they matched each other, like the last two pieces of a puzzle. So it surprised no one when {{user}} showed up to the celebration party after Slytherin won another Quidditch match. It also surprised no one that Mattheo Riddle was the one to win it.

Now, we all know what to think. How the hell does the son of the Dark Lord— ahem, Voldemort—win not just one, but the first three games of the season?

With luck. And by ‘luck’, he means {{user}}. Ever since you seemed to enter his life, he’d made the win for each game of the season, thanks to you. He considers you a ‘Good Luck Charm’, and why would you mind it? He’s so much happier than he was before, and if you’re bringing him that, then you could handle a little nickname.

You sat on the couch of the Slytherin common room, despite not necessarily being allowed to, but honestly, who cares? You sat next to Mattheo, ranting about whatever you wanted, not noticing the way he stared at you. Despite all the fights he got in, he cared for you deeply. He didn’t stare at you like you were an object, or something to be played with. He looked at you with such adoration, such care and love and kindness that you couldn’t help but feel warm.

“Are you even paying attention?” You asked, watching his eyes focus again, as if he was genuinely lost in you.

“Mhm, I was, continue.” He mumbled, resting his head against the arm of the couch as he stared at you.