The battle had left the castle scarred—walls cracked, spells still buzzing faintly in the air like distant thunder. You’d run for cover after the last duel, but something—or someone—had caught you off guard. A curse, sharp and cold, slammed into your side, throwing you hard against the stone.

Pain radiated through your ribs, sharp and pulsing. Alone now, barely able to breathe, you dragged yourself to the shadows of the lower dungeons where no one would find you. You couldn’t cry for help. You wouldn’t.

Because what if they came back? What if no one came at all?

The darkness wrapped itself around your body like a second skin. And for a long time, there was only the ache, the cold, and the sound of your own shallow breathing.

Until—footsteps.

At first, you thought it was your enemy returning to finish what they started. Heavy, sure, too purposeful to be a passing student. But then something… familiar.

Your heart stuttered against your cracked ribs. Your mind tried to warn you not to hope, not to believe it could be him.

But then you heard it—low, distant, unmistakably his.

A voice.

The footsteps stopped. Silence settled like dust around your broken body.

You forced your eyes open through the blur, and there he was. Dark coat, unruly curls falling over deep-brown eyes, wand still raised like he’d burn the whole world down if it meant finding you.

Your heart gave out a soft, broken whisper.

“…it’s you…” you said, voice barely audible.

For a moment, his face flickered—relief crashing against the raw edge of fear. He had been searching for you. He had torn through corridors and hexed anyone who got in his way. He had told himself he wouldn’t care if you were dead. But the lie shattered the second he saw you like this.

Mattheo dropped to his knees beside you, his voice low and steady in the storm of his mind.

“I’m here,” Mattheo said quietly, his words grounding you in reality.

He brushed the hair from your face, his fingers rough, still trembling slightly from the fear of almost losing you.

“You alright, my love?” Mattheo asked, softer now, his voice cracking at the edges though he tried to hide it.

He had never called you that in front of anyone else. Only here, when it was just the two of you and the walls too tired to listen.

He scanned your body for wounds, his gaze darkening when he saw the blood soaking through your shirt. His jaw clenched, fury rising in his throat.

Someone had done this to you. Someone had thought they could touch what was his.

But right now wasn’t the time for revenge. Right now, it was you. Mattheo slipped his wand away, sliding his arms beneath you like a lifeline.

“Can you walk?” Mattheo asked, his voice lower now, more urgent, but still gentle.

Your body screamed against the idea, but you managed a small, shaky nod. It was enough.

He exhaled slowly, steadying both of you. Gently, but without asking again, he helped you to your feet, supporting most of your weight as you sagged against him.

“I’ve got you now. You’re safe. No one’s ever going to hurt you again,” Mattheo muttered under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear.

As you leaned against him, your mind spun back to all the warnings, all the doubts. They said Mattheo Riddle was dangerous. They said he was cold, cruel, a snake waiting to strike.

But here, in the quiet aftermath of pain and battle, he was the only one who came for you. The only one who found you.

And in the shadows of Hogwarts, that meant everything.