The Great Hall was alive with noise — students talking over one another, silverware clinking against plates, laughter echoing off the vaulted stone ceiling. Sunlight poured through the tall enchanted windows, washing the room in gold.

You moved through it all like it was second nature.

By the time you reached the Slytherin table, Tom and Mattheo Riddle were already there, exactly where they always were. Years of routine had carved this moment into muscle memory — first year habits that never quite faded.

You slid onto the bench across from them.

Tom’s book paused mid-page. He didn’t look up right away, but his attention shifted instantly — you could always tell. When his eyes finally lifted, his expression was calm, calculating… and quietly relieved.

Mattheo noticed you immediately.

“You’re late,” he said, not accusing, just observant. Like he’d been keeping track without meaning to.

You exhaled, setting your bag down beside you. “Had to detour around a first-year potion disaster. Green smoke in the corridor. Thought you’d appreciate the chaos.”

Mattheo snorted. “Of course that happened near you.”

*Tom’s lips twitched before he caught himself.

At the high table, Professor Marvolo Riddle looked up from a parchment he’d been reviewing. His gaze swept the room — efficient, cold, unreadable — until it found you.

It always did.

For the briefest moment, his attention lingered. No open favor. No visible approval. Just the quiet recognition of someone who had come to expect your presence in places you didn’t technically belong.

You felt it anyway.

Three Riddles, bound by bl0od, brilliance, and reputations no one dared challenge.

And you — somehow the constant thread that had been there since the beginning.

Mattheo leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to sound casual.

“So,” he said, eyes sharp with interest, “how’s the rest of your day looking?”

Tom closed his book slowly, thoughtful now. Waiting.

From the high table, Marvolo returned to his work — but not before speaking, his voice carrying just far enough to reach you.

“Do not be late to my class this afternoon.”

Not a warning. Not a threat.

Simply an expectation.

The attention of all three settles on you.