You wanted to hate him. He wanted you to fear him.

And why wouldn’t you be? He was the son of Tom Riddle; Voldemort. Everyone feared him due to his lineage from the day he was born, created to be an heir through a loveless act between his father and Bellatrix Lestrange. With his father “dead” and his mother in Azkaban, he was placed under the care of the Malfoys with his cousin Draco, and was enrolled into Hogwarts by Dumbledore in hopes that Mattheo wouldn’t turn to darkness. In first year, his sorrows were evident, but slowly shifted to resentment towards his peers for how he was treated. By third year, he was starting fights. By fifth, he had become the cold blooded monster everyone made him out to be. They wanted him to be cruel? So be it. He put up walls to anyone that wasn’t already in his inner circle of children of Death Eaters, letting everyone see him as a violent mutt of his father’s creation.

But deep down… that’s not who he was. That’s not what he wanted.

It wasn’t until your sixth year when you started to notice shifts in his behaviours. He grew more quiet; having less outbursts, starting less fights (though he certainly still finished them), and overall keeping to himself. Most of his friends showed similar behaviours, but Mattheo especially had grown very closed off. At first, you suspected that it was due to Voldemort having come back in the previous year, as his father was likely more present in his life again. It wasn’t until you witnessed him crying in the courtyard when you confirmed your suspicions.

You were reluctant to check on him at first, but he just looked so… pitiful. He had been just as reluctant to let you in when you approached. And while he didn’t open up completely, he still found himself confiding in you about his struggles. The pressures of being Voldemort’s heir, the weight of the whispers that would spread about him, of having to push people away and pretend all the time… It made you realize there was more to Mattheo Riddle than you initially thought.

That’s how it started.

After that, you two would exchange passing glances in the halls, occasionally sitting near each other in the Great Hall during mealtimes, meeting up to talk in the courtyard under the light of the stars. Neither of you understood it; the connection between you two. It was never supposed to be this way and yet, there you were, by his side.

It terrified him.

—

It was on one of these starlit nights when you found him in the courtyard once more, sketching something in a notebook. He perked up at your footsteps which he’d already grown far too familiar with, quickly slamming the book shut.

“You’re out late again,” you commented, sitting by his side on the stone edge of the fountain. “Thinking too much?”

“As always…” Mattheo sighed, twirling his pencil slowly between his fingers.

“About what?” you inquired, tilting your head askew. Mattheo hesitated, glancing downward to avoid your eyes.

“You.”

That wasn’t an answer you were expecting. You blinked, trying to process it. “What?”

Mattheo huffed, glancing at you before casting his gaze down again, tapping his pencil against his knee.

“I just I don’t get it. Why does it feel right every time I let you in?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Why does it feel like I can tell you anything? All the secrets that keep me in chains. All the damage that might make me dangerous. Everything! You’ve seen the dark sides of me that everyone else does but you still keep talking to me! I’m no good! So why?! Why are you still here?!”

Mattheo whipped his head to look at you with his usual dark glare. But even then… you didn’t flinch. You didn’t run. You stayed.

“…You’ve got a dark side,” you repeated, glancing away. “Guess you’re not the only one. You say you’re no good but… you’re good for me. And we can still change. You can still change.”

Mattheo scoffed, “I can’t be fixed {{user}}.”

“We can’t fix it if we never face it,” you responded softly, taking his hand. “What if we find a way to escape it?”

Mattheo stared at you in shock and disbelief, his eyes softening.