as the world caves in; mattheo riddle

by bytheangelsx

Summary:

"I don't understand-"

"There's nothing to understand. He hurt you, Amora. He had to pay, I don't give a fuck if he was wasted." he lowers his gaze at me.

"But why do you care, Mattheo?" I ask, my gaze meeting his.

He takes in a breath, breaking eye contact as his eyes scan around the room for a moment before meeting mine once again.

"I don't," he states.

Once again, he was lying. I knew he was lying.

~~~

Amora Sinclair and Mattheo Riddle were bound by fate to be enemies. Amora is your typical Slytherin princess. Mattheo is the boy who couldn't feel. Against all odds, their worlds collide in a dangerous game of secrets, desire, and betrayal. As shadows deepen and old wounds bleed, how will they navigate every dark twist and turn that comes their way?

Chapter 1

"You better watch what you say, witch."

~~~

September 1st, 1996

"Merlin, I can't believe we're 6th years already," Pansy says as we step off the platform to the Hogwarts Express, returning for yet another year.

"It's so strange to think that we only have 2 years left. It feels like just yesterday we were first years, getting sorted, exploring the castle, all of that." I reply.

A smile lingers on my lips, my gaze drifting to the outline of the castle in the distance, the moon and stars creating a beautiful glow against the old building.

"Well, we're gonna make this year great," Theo interjects, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

I let out a small laugh, my head leaning against his touch as we make our way towards the carriages. It was always such a surreal experience– watching as the carriages seemed to pull themselves as you ride up to the castle. But to those of us who have seen death, the truth was different. We could see the thestrals, their skeleton-like forms both beautiful and haunting.

The ride towards the castle was rather quiet, small comments being made here and there as we simply enjoy each others company. There was a bittersweet feeling in the atmosphere, excitement towards another school year, yet a tinge of sadness knowing this was one of the last times we would be making the venture up to the castle.

As we enter the castle, the sounds of bustling students arises, eager to enjoy the feast that was to come. My eyes flicker to the ceiling of the Great Hall, the ceiling shone with floating candles, a gorgeous scene of the night sky playing just above. Theo, Pansy, Blaise, and I take our usual spot the Slytherin table, the smell of fresh baked breads and poultry filling our senses.

"Has anyone seen Draco?" Pansy asks, glancing around the busy hall.

"Not yet, but I'm sure he'll turn up." I reply.

As if on cue, the infamous blonde boy walked through the doors of the Great Hall, his hands toying with his tie in a nervous manner. He looked stressed, as if something was weighing him down.

"Speak of the bloody devil himself." Blaise remarks, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Where have you been, mate?" Theo questions as Draco approaches the table.

"Just family stuff, what did I miss?" he replies.

His voice was rather monotone, lacking his usual sharpness. He takes his seat next to Blaise as Pansy gives him a shrug.

"Nothing important." she says, glancing at him with a hint of worry in her eyes.

"Good evening, students," Dumbledore's voice boomed across the hall, catching everyone's attention. "I would like to welcome each and every one of you to a new year at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore continued with the ceremony, getting all the first-years sorted before giving his typical beginning of term speech. I rest my chin on my palm, leaning over the table as I attempt to ease my growing hunger. I tune out the headmaster's voice, having already heard the warnings and such he was about to give. Though, something he said finally caught my attention.

"I would like to give a warm welcome to our newest Hogwarts transfer student, Mattheo Riddle." Dumbledore announces.

My body stiffens. My head snaps back up, the news grasping my attention as I feel my heart drop into my stomach. A hush falls over the Great Hall.

Riddle? As in Tom Riddle? The Dark Lord?

The questions swirled in my mind. There's no way Dumbledore would allow the son of a murder into school, right?

"Mr. Riddle will be joining us for his 6th year," Dumbledore continues, his voice unreadable. "But first, we must get him sorted into a house."

The doors to the hall creak open, all heads turning as a tall boy strides inside. Dark curls framed his sharp features, his deep brown eyes holding a dangerous aura. The candle light above cast shadows along his face, highlighting his sharp jawline, adding to the dramatic entrance.

I couldn't tear my eyes away, my breath catching in my throat as he takes careful, deliberate steps up the aisle.

Then, his eyes find mine. A chill rolls down my spine as I feel his dark, unwavering gaze lingering on mine. It felt like a dream. Surely after everything that's happened in the last two years, Dumbledore wouldn't let him stay, not without an ulterior motive.

Mattheo takes a seat on the stool, the Great Hall so silent you could hear a pin drop. Professor McGonagall places the sorting hat on his head.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat shouts the mere second the old leather grazes his curls.

His lips curl into a smirk, stepping down as he strides toward the Slytherin table, taking a seat just a few spots away from my friends and me. I couldn't help the uneasy feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

The feast carries on, the hall filled with excited chattering of students, grateful to finally enjoy the feast after a long day of traveling. Though I was unable to shake the heavy weight of Mattheo's presence across the room.

Eventually, Pansy, Draco, Theo, Blaise, and I, all head up to the dorms, taking in the familiar path.

"I brought us a little start-of-the-year present." I speak up as my friends settle around the room.

I unlock my trunk, pulling out a small plastic back with a perfectly-rolled joint inside. I hold it up, a small smirk on my lips.

"You're an actual angel, Amora." Theo says, his voice full of admiration.

He steps closer, placing a kiss on my cheek as he snatches the bag from my hands. A laugh escapes my lips as I give his shoulder a playful shove.

"Get off me, Theodore." I tease, still giggling softly.

"It looks like Draco could use a few hits." Pansy muses.

Pansy and Draco had always had a strange dynamic. She has always had a massive crush on him, but the feelings were never reciprocated. Not until 4th year, at least. They don't have an official label of a real relationship, but they practically act like a couple. Something just tells me they're both too scared to admit what everyone else already sees.

"Couldn't we all?" Blaise snorts.

Theo rolls his eyes in a playful manner, with practiced movements he places the joint between his lips, lighting the end of it. He takes a deep inhale, letting the smoke sit in his lungs for a moment before puffing it out.

He passes the joint to Draco as he does the same, the smell of marijuana filling my senses as Draco blows out a cloud of smoke.

"Mattheo is my cousin. He's my aunt Bellatrix's son." Draco admits, breaking the silence.

A strange sense of relief washes over his features, as if he had been harboring this deep-rooted family secret. He passes the joint to Pansy whom gives him a concerned expression.

"Shit, really?" Blaise asks, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Damn," Theo replies. "Imagine having two psychotic murders as your parents."

I roll my eyes at Theo's lack of sensitivity as I reach over, taking the joint from Pansy.

"Hey you never know," I say, placing the joint between my lips with a smirk. "Maybe he's not that bad."

I inhale deeply, feeling the familiar rush of smoke fill my lungs before exhaling slowly, spirals of smoke escaping my lips as I feel a warmth spread across my chest.

"Yeah maybe he only got the good genes– if there even is any," Pansy adds, a playful tone in her voice. "No offense, Draco."

"None taken. But seriously, he is a psychopath." Draco replies, a nonchalant shrug in his voice.

I roll my eyes slightly, passing the joint over to Blaise. Over the years I have learned to never take what Draco says too seriously, as he had a habit of overdramatize everything. And, my mother always taught me to never judge someone who wasn't there to defend themselves.

But something about the way Mattheo looked at me during the ceremony really gave me the chills. Like he was staring into my soul. Out of all people, why me?

After the joint had been passed around several times, I begin to feel the effects of the weed flooding my system.

"You know, maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to do this on a school night." I say, laughing at some idiotic comment Theo made.

"But it's our yearly tradition, Amora." Theo replies, his words slurring together slightly as he flops back against my bed.

~~~

I startled awake to Pansy nudging my shoulder.

"Amora, darling," she drawls in a far too positive tone for the morning. "It's time to get up."

A groan escapes my lips, turning my body over in an attempt to escape her. To my dismay, she doesn't relent, now practically thrashing my shoulder to get me out of bed.

"Merlin, I'm awake." I grumble, sitting up as I let out a tired yawn.

She greets me with a warm smile as I shoot her a look. I was somewhat envious that someone could be this cheerful in the morning, as I was the complete opposite.

I stretch out my limbs in a tired fashion, resisting the urge to curl back up under my sheets, finally finding the energy inside me to get ready for the morning. I do my typical routine– a quick wash up, brushing my teeth, and applying a bit of mascara and eyeliner to hide any leftover irritation from last night.

I slip on my uniform, throwing my book bag over my shoulder before Pansy and I head out of the dorm, descending down the spiral stairs towards the Common Room. Upon reaching the bottom, we find Theo, Blaise, and Draco waiting for us.

"Merlin you two take forever," Theo groans. "We almost missed breakfast."

"Almost? We still have a half an hour, dipshit," Pansy replies with a small laugh.

"Thank god, I'm starving." I add.

We head down to the Great hall for breakfast, each table lined with just about any breakfast food or beverage you could imagine. I fill my plate with scrambled eggs, fruits, a piece of toast, and of course, a large cup of coffee.

By the time we had finished up, Theo and I ended up being late to our first period–potions– but only by a minute or so. Luckily, there was one last table where we could sit together, avoiding the dreaded split-up.

"Sinclair, Nott, nice of you to join us for class today." Snape speaks up, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't worry too much about your current seats as I will be assigning partners." Professor Snape continues with careful precision.

Groans of disappointment could be heard across the classroom, students muttering curses. Assigned partners was always such a gamble, and knowing my luck, this wouldn't end well.

"Nott and Weasley, Potter and Brown, Zabini and Granger, Malfoy and Patil, Thomas and Goyle, Finnigan and Longbottom, Parkinson and Crabbe and Sinclair and Riddle." Snape announces.

The room goes silent for a moment as students begin shuffling to grab their things to take their seats by their new partners. Of course I had to get stuck with him. Of course. I didn't even know if this was really a bad thing, but him being Voldemort's son only meant trouble.

Reluctantly, I go find my place next to Mattheo, trying to ignore the growing knot forming in my stomach.

"Late on the first day," Mattheo leans over, whispering to me with a smirk. "very naughty." His words sent a chill down my spine, as if he knew exactly what to say to make me squirm.

"Well I didn't exactly mean too." I mutter, trying to ease my discomfort. But something tells me he's the type to enjoy making people uncomfortable.

"You and your boyfriend?" he questions, his voice laced with curiosity– and something else that was rather undistinguishable.

I roll my eyes, shifting uncomfortably in his presence.

"Theo isn't my boyfriend, just my best friend." I reply in a somewhat defensive tone.

I had known Theo practically since birth, as our mothers were best friends as well. And while they had always hoped we would end up together, I couldn't imagine it for myself.

"Sinclair and Riddle," Snape drawls, grasping my attention with his monotone voice. "That's detention for both you now stop talking in my class."

"Wow detention on the first day," I whisper to Mattheo. "very naughty."

He clenches his jaw, turning his attention back to Snape as I was satisfied with my small victory. It was hypocritical, considering I had also just received detention, but I couldn't help myself.

Class had finally ended after what felt like hours of Snape going on about liquid luck. Just as Snape began to dismiss the class, I felt an unexpected hand rest against the inner side of my mid-thigh. My breath hitches in my throat, feeling my heart skip a beat.

"You better watch what you say, witch." Mattheo whispers, his voice low and dark, sending a chill to roll down my spine.

Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed his bag in one fluid motion, quickly walking out of the classroom in a hurried manner, leaving me utterly confused and taken off guard.

It's going to be a long year.

———

Chapter 2

"Nothing says 'welcome back to school' quite like drug and alcohol abuse."

~~~

The remainder of the week went by painfully slow, homework assignments already piling up as well as my dreaded detention with Riddle. Detentions were always served at the end of the week, typically on a Thursday or Friday– and in our case, it was a Thursday detention. The task or punishment varied based on the professor, and Merlin only knows what unbearable task Snape will set us with.

After my last class of the day–Transfiguration– I made my way down to the Dungeons where Snape's classroom resides. As I stepped inside the cold entrance, I spotted Mattheo already seated at a desk, an unreadable expression on his face.

I take a seat far away from him without a word, silence looming over the classroom. I could feel his gaze burning into my back as I ran a nervous hand through my hair.

Moments later, Snape strides through the classroom, his long, black robes blowing behind him.

"Miss Sinclair, Mr. Riddle," he began, his tone sharp. "I need you both to sweep the floors and clean the desks. You have one hour. When I return, this classroom better be spotless. The door has been enchanted, so if you attempt leave this room, I will know. Understand?"

"Yes, Professor," we answer in unison.

Without another word, Snape exits the classroom, leaving behind an eerie silence. A sigh escapes my lips as I stand up, making my way towards the supply closet to grab a broom. I could hear Mattheo shuffling behind me, turning around to see him pulling out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips with practiced ease as he flicks open his zippo lighter.

"I don't think you can smoke in here." I say, watching as he ignites the end.

Mattheo exhales, a slow stream of smoke escaping his lips as lowers his dark eyes to meet mine.

"Who's here to say I can't?" he replies, a smirk tugging at his lips.

I roll my eyes in response, yanking a broom from the closet.

"You better start better start helping," I speak up, shooting him a pointed glance. "I'm not doing all this work on my own."

He shot me a glare before walking toward me, stopping just a few inches away. I can't lie, I was intimidated– feeling a pit of anxiety growing in my chest, but I refused to let it show.

Without warning, he grasps my chin, tilting my head back so I was forced to look straight into his dark brown eyes, the smell of tobacco filling my senses.

"I already told you to watch what you say to me, little witch," he warns, his voice low.

"Stop calling me that, Riddle." I reply, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Grab a rag and start wiping down the desks."

He looks at me up and down before walking over to Snape's desk and grabbing a rag, his movements slow and reluctant. He began wiping off the tables as I focused on sweeping the dust, dirt, and leftover potion ingredients from the floor. The silence in the air was suffocating, the tension in the air so thick you could practically feel it against your skin.

It only took about a half an hour to finish cleaning, and to my surprise, it went by much faster than I had expected.

"See, now was that so hard?" I ask, tossing my broom back into the supply closet.

When I turned around after shutting the door, I was taken aback to find Mattheo standing right behind me, a little too close for comfort. A small gasp escapes my lips, having not sensed his presence.

"Do you ever learn?" Mattheo asks, his voice low– almost a growl. "That mouth of your is gonna get you in trouble."

Before I could react, he pushes me up against the door, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck with a force that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Well, I keep hearing all your threats, but you haven't done a damn thing, have you?" I challenge, my voice steady despite my increasing heart rate.

"Oh, little witch," he mutters darkly, his grip tightening. "I have done things that would shock you."

His eyes darken, the weight of his threats settling between us as the realization of who I was mouthing off to started to hitting me.

"People who speak to me like that don't usually make it out alive," he says, a sickening smirk growing on his lips.

Draco was right, he really is a fucking psychopath.

The sound of Professor Snape unlocking the door snapped us both out of the trance. Mattheo back away, his gaze still lingering a moment longer.

"Just keep in mind what I said," he warns, his voice cold– void of any emotion.

Snape enters the classroom, dismissing us after confirming that we had finished cleaning. I hurriedly grab my belonging, eager to leave, before leaving the classroom. Mattheo, however, stayed behind, his presence still lingering in the air.

~~~

"So, how was detention with Riddle?" Pansy asks as I opened the door to our shared dorm, Theo lounging on one of our chairs.

"Well, he's definitely fucking crazy." I reply.

I toss my book bag on the floor before taking a seat at the end of my bed.

"Well I could have told you that, sweetheart," Theo says with a small smirk.

"Why's that?" I ask, furrowing my brows as I peer over at him.

"I met him once a few years back when I went over to Malfoy's family's manor. Nothing crazy, but I can't exactly say it was a good interaction." He said.

A sigh escapes my lips, running a hand through my hair before laying back against my comforter, having had enough of this day.

"He threatened me because I 'mouthed off' to him, and at the end, he said 'keep in mind what he said'," I explain.

"I'm surprised Dumbledore is even letting him attend, especially with the Dark Lord on the rise again," Pansy chimes in.

I give her a shrug, confused myself about the whole ordeal.

"Maybe he’s trying to get intel, or maybe he thinks he can change him for the better or something," I say, a small frown tugging at my lips. "But something tells me going to Hogwarts wasn’t exactly Riddle’s first choice."

"Enough talking about that bastard," Theo cuts in, standing up abruptly. "Lets go to dinner, I'm starving."

~~~

"Alright, how would you guys feel about Slytherin throwing the first party of the year? This Saturday perhaps?" Theo asks as we fill our plates, his voice laced with excitement.

"Sounds good to me," I reply, grabbing a bread roll.

"Nothing says 'welcome back to school' quite like drug and alcohol abuse." Blaise retorts dryly.

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head slightly. He wasn't exactly wrong, but he's making it seem a lot worse than what it actually is.

"Oh come on Blaise, it'll be fun!" Pansy says, "Plus no one throws a party quite like Slytherin."

It had been a while since the Slytherin house had thrown the first party of the year, the thunder typically being stolen by the Gryffindors. Our house did have quite the... reputation.

"Fine, but I'm not getting stuck cleaning up after," Blaise gives in, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"No one said you had to, mate." Draco remarks, earning an eye roll from Blaise.

"Alright, so it's settled." Theo's voice drops into party-planner mode. "Draco and Pansy, you be in charge of booze. Blaise, you're on music. Amora," Theo turns to me, shooting me a sly wink. "Make sure you invite the Weasley twins– they've got the goods. And leave the rest to me."

I smile in return, the rest of the group agreeing to their roles. This year's going to be one hell of an interesting one.

———

Chapter 3

"Do I make you nervous?"

~~~

Finally being able to leave class was like a breath of fresh air. I couldn't stand another minute of Professor Binns droning on about the 'Origin of the Phoenix'– his lectures were far too boring for anyone to stand.

With the school day finally over, I figured it was the perfect opportunity to track down the Weasley twins and ask them about the party. I made my way towards Gryffindor Tower, maneuvering through the bustling halls of Hogwarts as the excitement of the weekend buzzed through every student's mind.

After a few minutes of searching, I finally spotted them– the identical red-heads being impossible to miss.

"Hello, boys," I greet smoothly as I approach them, a small smirk playing on my lips.

The pair turn towards me, mischievous grins growing on their features as they cross their arms over their chest.

"Well if it isn't Amora Sinclair," Fred says.

"What brings you to this part of the castle?" George adds, raising a brow at me.

"To find you of course," I reply, a playful tone to my voice as I shoot them a wink. "How would you boys feel about a Slytherin party this weekend?"

The real reason Theo had asked me to invite the twins was simple– I was the only one who had some sort of association with them. We weren't close to any extent, but there was a mutual understanding– a mutual benefit if you will.

I had first met them during my second year, when the pair saved me from being caught by Filtch for being out of bed after curfew. Ever since then, we had formed an unspoken arrangement: I get them access to Slytherin parties, and in return, they make a Galleons selling their stash to rich kids who are desperate to get high. It was a win-win.

"Well, that depends, sweetheart," Fred begins.

"What's in it for us?" George questions, finishing his brothers thought.

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head slightly as I peer up at the two, crossing my arms over my chest, mirroring their stance.

"Oh, come on, boys, do we have to do this everytime?" I ask.

"Please, darling, indulge us," George says with a smirk.

"We so do love hearing the sound of your voice," Fred adds.

I roll my eyes in a playful manner, ignoring his subtle flirting.

"You guys get exclusive entry to one of the best parties of the year, all while making money off eager rich kids spending daddy's coin," I reply. "And, of course, my undeniable charm and company."

The twins glance at each other, nodding with unspoken words.

"Well, when you put it that way, how could we possibly refuse?" Fred smirks.

"Perfect," I say, a smile tugging at my lips. "I will see you both there."

I turn on my heels, heading towards the library to get some work done. The term had practically just began, and Professor Snape already assigned a rather long essay about the many uses of Fluxweed.

I find an empty desk, tossing my bag down before pulling out my textbook, parchment, and quill to begin working. I bite the inside of my cheek, staring at the textbook as I wonder where to even begin.

"Mind if I sit?" I hear a deep voice behind me.

I glance up, my heart sinking into my stomach as I see the one and only, Mattheo Riddle, approaching me.

"No one's going to stop you," I say, turning my attention back towards the parchment in front of me.

He takes the seat next to me, silence looming over us as I feel his gaze burning into me. My heart beats faster in my chest, my mind screaming to get away from him as he was sitting much too close for comfort.

"Do I make you nervous?" he asks, his eyes watching me carefully.

Shit, he could tell.

I take a deep breath, dipping my quill into my pot of ink.

"No, it's just not exactly normal to stare at someone who's sitting right next to you," I reply.

He rolls his eyes in response, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as a smirk lingers on his lips. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So, when were you going to invite me to your little party?" he asks suddenly, his tone laced with amusement.

"You're just full of questions today, aren't you, Riddle?" I snap back, glancing at him through the corner of my eye.

"You best watch your tone with me, witch," he warns, his voice low. "Now answer my question."

I exhale through my nose, setting my quill in the ink pot before finally meeting his gaze, crossing my arms over my chest as I face him.

"Well, you can come if you want," I sigh. "It's open to any Slytherins. Plus a few exceptions."

"Ah, like the Weasley twins? I saw you talking to them earlier. Bunch of blood traitors if you ask me," he says.

I roll my eyes in return, fighting the urge to scoff at his comment. Unlike some of my friends and their families, I didn't believe in blood supremacy. I never understood it– I found it rather ridiculous and illogical.

"Stalking me now, are we, Riddle?" I question, my voice laced with amusement, though I'm unsure whether I'm more annoyed or intrigued by his presense.

He rolls his eyes yet again, rolling his tongue against his cheek. His smirk widens, possibly enjoying this exchange more than he lets on.

"Don't think so highly of yourself, witch." he replies, his voice dripping with arrogance.

I let out a huff, shaking my head slightly as I refuse to entertain him any longer.

"Whatever," I say, starting to gather my things. "I actually need to get some work done."

I throw my book bag over my shoulder, leaving him without another word, though I feel his gaze burning into my back as I walk out of the library.

I eventually reach my dorm after a long stroll through Hogwarts, pushing the door open with a sigh. I spot Pansy at her desk, doing her makeup.

"How was the library, darling?" she asks.

I toss my bag on my bed before plopping down next to it.

"Well, on the positive side, I got the twins to come tomorrow," I begin. "But on the negative, I barely got any work done because Riddle showed up."

"Merlin's beard," she mutters. "What's his deal anyways?"

I let out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling of our dorm as I lay back on my bed.

"I have no idea. He's just so... strange. Unpredictable. I don't know." I reply, shaking my head slightly. "Anyways, what's got you getting so dolled up for? Or should I say who?" I ask, a teasing tone in my voice.

She turns toward me, a smile tugging at her lips as her cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Draco is taking me to dinner tonight," she says.

I let out a small chuckle, sitting up to look at her.

"Well have fun and be safe, love," I shoot her a playful wink.

"Will do," she laughs softly. "What time is it?"

"I believe it's half past five." I reply.

"Shit, I have to go. Love you, Amora." she says, kissing my cheek before grabbing her purse and heading out.

~~~

As I finished up the last few sentences of my paper, I hear a knock at the door that pulls my attention. Before I could even answer, Theo and Blaise come barging in.

"Well just come right in why don't you." I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I set my quill down.

"Well Amora, we're about to miss dinner," Blaise states. "And where's Pansy?"

"Her and Draco are going out tonight. Don't expect to see either of them tonight." I hint, raising my eyebrows. "Cmon let's go."

I shoo them out of my dorm, abandoning my nearly-finished paper.

"So, is everything set for tomorrow?" I ask, putting a serving of chicken on my plate.

"Yep, all you need to do is show up and look pretty." Theo grins, giving me a playful wink.

I roll my eyes at him, a small laugh escaping my lips.

"Thank Merlin. We've only had a few days of school and I'm already drained." I mutter, shoving a piece of chicken into my mouth.

"And does that have anything to do with a particular new student?" Blaise raises a brow, clearly amused at whatever drama was going on.

"Merlin, Theo, you're such a loud mouth," I groan, shooting Theo an annoyed look. "I don't know what's up with Riddle, but for some reason I keep finding myself running into him, like I can't escape."

"Stay away from the bloke, Amora. He only attracts darkness." Theo says, his tone rather serious.

"Like I haven't tried?" I mutter under my breath, not bothering to mask my frustration.

"Trust me, Amora, you don't want to get swept into that." Blaise says, though hsi voice has an edge to it, as if speaking from experience.

The reality that Mattheo is the Dark Lord's son was starting to feel more real, finally grasping the weight of it. I had obviously already known that fact, but seeing the way he acts, the way he carries himself– the complexity of the situation was hitting me harder than expected.

The rest of dinner passes by in a blur of half-hearted conversation, and eventually, Blaise, Theo, and I make our way back to the Slytherin common room.

———

Chapter 4

"Of course not. Unlike you, I have class."

~~~

"Is it too much?" I ask Pansy as I look into my reflection.

I tilt my head slightly, smoothing out the black mini dress with my palms. The dress had lace detailing, hugging my frame.

"Absolutely not, Amora," she replies, coming up behind me.

"I don't know..." I trail off, turning around to face her.

"Love," she places her hands on each side of my head, making me look at her. "Don't overthink it. We look hot, and we're going to have a great time." she says.

I take a deep breath, nodding softly as a small smile tugs at my lips.

"Ok. Fine," I sigh, giving my appearance one last glance before we leave the dorm.

We make our way down the corridor to the Slytherin common room, the sound of music getting louder as we approach. Pansy takes my hand, leading us through the vast sea of people, heading towards the drink table. The air was thick, green shining lights adding to the smokey atmosphere. Pansy pours a few shots of firewhiskey, downing them in one go as the liquid burns a trail down my throat, a familiar relaxation taking over my senses.

"Let's go dance," I yell to Pansy after taking another shot, a smirk growing on my lips.

She gives me a laugh before nodding, grabbing her hand as we make our way through the crowds of drunk students to reach the dance floor.

"You look beautiful, Amora," a familiar voice mutters in my ear.

I spin around to find Theo standing behind me, his signature smirk plastered on his features. I roll my eyes in a playful manner, giving him a smile as I wrap my arms behind his neck, giving him a tight hug before pulling away.

"Lovely to see you too, Theodore," I tease.

"Ouch, using the full name," he replies, placing a dramatic hand over his heart, his voice laced with a mocking tone.

I laugh softly in reply, my attention shifting as my gaze wanders the party going on around us.

"Who's that?" I ask, nodding towards a boy who looked about our age, engaging in conversation with Draco and Pansy. He had messy brown hair and piercing blue eyes, but there was just something about him that caught my attention. Theo follows my gaze before replying.

"Miles Bletchley. He's in the year above us," he replies casually, handing me a red solo cup.

I take a long sip, cringing slightly at the strong taste, the cool liquid offering brief distraction from the strange feeling gnawing at me.

"What's he doing talking to Draco and Pansy?" I question, narrowing my eyes at them as my curiosity gets the best of me.

I'm not sure why I thought the interaction was so strange, but with how closed off Draco has been, it seemed to spike red flags for anything he did that was out of the ordinary. In this case, being in deep conversation with a boy who I had never seen before.

"Dunno," Theo shrugs. "He's on the quidditch team with us."

I wasn't entirely convinced, but I try to shrug it off. Still, my gaze lingers on the three for a moment. As if sensing my eyes on him, Miles turns and meets my gaze, and for a brief moment, we lock eyes. I quickly look away, feeling a strange flutter in my chest.

"Let's go get another drink," I suggest.

I grab Theo's hand, guiding him back towards the drink table. I pour us two shots, giving a small 'cheers' before gulping the liquid down in a swift motion, the sharp sting of the alcohol finally beginning to settle in. The shot went down smoothly, starting to feel the warm buzz.

My eyes scan the room, finding Pansy once again before leading her towards the dance floor. The music thumped as we swayed and moved around the crowd of bodies. The lively atmosphere distracted me, feeling all my problems melt away in a short escape from reality. Though, it wasn't long before I felt a presence behind me. I turn around, and to my surprise, it was Miled Bletchley.

"Hey?" I say, the word coming out as more of a question than anything else.

"I'm Miles," he replies smoothly, his lips curling into a confident smirk.

His presence was overpowering, his eyes were fixed on mine, a small glint of curiosity that sent butterflies to stir in my stomach.

"I'm Amora," I reply, my tone playful.

Something about the way he presented himself tells me he's used to getting a lot of girl's attentions, his confidence dripping with a hint of arrogance. But I can't help myself– I like to play along.

"I know," he says with a grin. "I was asking Malfoy about you earlier. You look stunning tonight by the way."

His voice drops slightly, leaning in so I can hear him better over the loud music.

"Oh thank you, I guess... all good things, I hope," I reply, raising a brow at him, taken somewhat off guard at the sudden compliment.

"Definitely," he says, his smirk never faltering as he shoots me a playful wink. "Come get a drink with me?"

His invitation was smooth, but there was an underlying intent in his tone. I glance over at Pansy, who's immersed in conversation with Blaise as they dance together. I don't see any harm or danger, so I agree, following him back towards the drink table.

As we weave through the sea of bodies, I notice how close he's standing, his arm snaking around my waist as he guides me through the crowd. The proximity was a bit off putting, but I push the thought aside, deciding to live in the moment.

I watch carefully as he pours me a drink, a small smirk lingering on my lips, my mind a little fuzzy as the shots catch up to me a bit.

"So, if I may ask," I tease, peering up at him. "What were you asking Draco about me?"

He hands me the cup, hand brushing against mine as I take it from him. I take a long sip, my gaze never faltering.

"Oh you know, just a few things about yourself," he smirks back. "Now tell me, darling, how can a girl as beautiful as you be single?"

A light blush creeps up on my cheeks, a little taken aback at his forwardness.

"I suppose no one has quite caught my eye yet," I reply, a hint of a challenge in my voice as I take another sip.

"Yeah? Why don't I change that?" he counters, leaning in even closer to me.

"And how do you expect to do that now?" I tease, raising a brow as I match his playful tone.

"Let me take you out. Next Saturday perhaps?" he asks, his voice dropping an octave as a playful smirk lingers on his features.

"It's a date." I agree, the words slipping easily from my lips as I look up at him.

I could feel the heat of his proximity, catching his eyes flickering to my lips, an unspoken tension simmering between us. A small laugh escapes my lips.

"Mm-mm. You have to earn that, Bletchley," I tease, pulling back slightly. "See you next Saturday." I add.

I give him a playful wink before spinning around, my eyes scanning the crowd to find any trace of Pansy or Theo. I finish off my drink, setting the empty cup on the nearest table carelessly. After unsuccessfully finding my friends, I come across two familiar red-heads.

"Well, hello, Miss Sinclair, funny seeing you here," Fred says, a mischievous grin plastered on his lips.

"Could almost say the same about you, Freddie," I tease. "Got any more joints left?"

"You always know we save you one." George replies.

I let out a small laugh, thanking Merlin for my connections.

"Oh you boys know me too well," I say, a grin tugging at my lips. "Are you boys feeling generous enough for a friend discount?"

I shoot them each a smile. They look at each other for a moment, Fred tilting his head slightly at his twin as they exchange an unspoken deal.

"I suppose we could, only for you, Amora," Fred replies, handing me the joint with a wink.

"Thank you, loves. Catch up with you later?" I ask, giving them a smile before walking away.

I make my way through the crowd, feeling as if I was making endless circles around the Slytherin common room. The noise, the lights, the people– all blending together in my intoxicated mind as I look for Pansy. After a few moments, I finally find her with Astoria, relief washing over me.

"Hey babes." I greet with a smile, my head feeling cloudy from the alcohol.

"What's got you so chipper?" Pansy asks, a slight giggle in her voice.

"Well not only do I have a little gift for us," I pull the joint out of my pocket, "Miles Bletchley asked me out on a date as well." I add.

"Really?" Astoria asks. "Like Miles on the quidditch team? The 7th year?"

Astoria was in the year below us. We had never really spoken– until last year, Astoria, Pansy, and I just sort of clicked together.

"Yeah, it kind of came out of no where but he's charming," I shrug.

"Good for you, love," Pansy smiles, sincerity in her voice.

We make our way towards the couches, finding a spot to sit. I place the joint between my lips, lighting the end of it before taking a long hit, letting the smoke sit in my lungs before blowing it out. I pass it to Pansy, watching as she takes a drag. I began to feel the mix of the weed and alcohol hitting my system like a euphoric rush.

"Don't tell me you weren't gonna share?" I hear Theo behind me.

I turn around to face him, a playful smirk on my lips.

"Why would I share with you? Merlin knows where your mouth has been tonight." I joke.

He rolls his eyes at my comment, taking a seat next to me on the couch as he takes the blunt from Astoria.

"And has yours been on Bletchley?" he teases, bringing the joint up to his lips.

I rolled my eyes in return, lightly hitting his arm at his insinuation.

"Of course not," I reply. "Unlike you, I have class."

I snatch the joint back, taking another deep hit before puffing it out, watching as the smoke dissipates into the atmosphere. Everything starts to slow down– the movement, the people, the music.

The blunt goes around the circle till it was nothing for than a roach, put out and tossed somewhere to be cleaned later.

I lean my head on Theo's shoulder, laughing at some stupid comment Pansy had said. I feel a set of careful eyes on me, burning into my being as I look up, spotting none other than Mattheo Riddle staring back at me. I lift up my head, observing him as I tune out the chaos around me, my eyes fixed on his.

He was leaning against the wall, a cigarette dangling between his lips as he takes a drag. I look away quickly, realizing what I was doing as I feel my heart quicken in my chest. For a moment, I thought I was going crazy, as I looked back over to steal one last glance, but he was gone.

"Everything alright, Amora?" Astoria asks, snapping me back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." I mutter. "I just thought I saw something."

———

Chapter 5

"I thought you were smarter than that, Amora."

~~~

As I stepped into potions class the following Monday, one thing stuck out to me– Riddle was nowhere to be seen. Not that I was complaining, but it was odd. Then again, so is Riddle. After his little disappearing act on Saturday, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.

"Ms. Sinclair, where is Mr. Riddle today? Hmm?" Professor Snape asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"That is a great question you must ask him, Professor," I respond. Why would I have any idea?

Snape clicked his tongue, turning around as his robes followed his actions.

"Well, that's a shame," he says. "You will just have to do the assignment on your own today."

I let out a frustrated huff, mentally cursing both Professor Snape and Riddle for making me do all this work on my own. Students begin scattering around the room, grabbing ingredients to start their potions.

"The student who successfully brews the draught of living death will be awarded a vile of felix felicis," Snape announces with his usual monotone voice. "Read the instructions very carefully."

At this, Draco's head lifted, eyes lighting up with interest. There was something... off about him this year, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. I know his father had been sentenced to Azkaban over the summer holiday, but something tells me there's more to the story.

Another sigh escapes my lips as I flip open my book, my eyes scanning the pages as I search for the recipe of this particular potion.

~~~

"Saint Potter," Draco spat, like poison on his tongue as we were all seated in the Great Hall for dinner. "He must be cheating with that manky old book."

"Or maybe, Draco, he's just better at potions than you." I reply, giving him a sarcastic smile as I push my food around my plate with a fork.

"Well, mate, with how much you talk about him it seems you're quite a bit obsessed." Blaise replies in a joking manner.

Draco rolls his eyes, stabbing his fork into a piece of food on his plate.

"I mean by the look on Snape's face, it seemed like he was surprised as well." I laugh softly.

The thought still lingered in my mind– why did Draco want it so bad? But I push the thought away, whatever reasons he had are his private business.

"Merlin, all this hatred over some beef from first year? Just kiss and make up already so we don't have to hear you nag." Theo says, shoving a spoon full of potatoes in his mouth.

"Piss off, Theo." Draco replies, shooting him a glare from across the table.

"Anyways..." Pansy trails off. "Can we please go to the Three Broom Sticks on Friday? I've been craving a butterbeer." she asks excitedly.

"I'm absolutely in." I reply.

"I can't." Draco says quickly.

I looked over at Pansy, her brows furrowed in confusion, clear disappointment written over her features, but she didn't question him.

"Well ignore the pessimist over there, we'll be there," Theo replies, referring to him and Blaise.

Shortly after, dinner ended, and we made our way back to mine and Pansy's dorm, settling in comfortably.

"Anyone wanna smoke?" I suggest, stretching out my legs as I lean back against one of our chairs.

"Don't have to ask me twice." Theo replies without hesitation, a smirk tugging at his lips.

I couldn't help but mirror his expression as I look over at him. I think this is why we get along so well.

"Only if Blaise rolls," Pansy chimes in, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. "No offense, Amora."

I let out a fake scoff, placing a hand over my chest as I mock offense.

"Oh excuse me, I happen to think I'm great at rolling." I reply, a hint of playfulness in my voice.

I get the supplies out from a small box under my bed, handing them to Blaise.

"Please," Blaise scoffs, a cocky grin on his face. "Let the professionals take care of this."

We all watch carefully as he goes to word, paying close attention as he rolls a perfect joint. I hold my hand out the second he seals it, reaching out impatiently.

"Okay, gimme." I say.

"So impatient," he laughs, shaking his head slightly before passing it to me.

"Well who's the one here with the lighter?" I asl sarcastically, placing the joint between my lips, lighting the end of it as I take a hit, letting the smoke fill my lungs before blowing it out, passing it to Pansy next to me.

"Merlin, all you people do is smoke," Draco chimes in as he takes a deep hit himself.

"Don't act like you're not right there with us, princess," Theo replies, shooting him a sarcastic smile.

The joint makes its way around the circle, each of us taking deep drags till there was nothing left but the lingering smell of marijuana in the air.

I lean my head against the edge of my bed as the effects of the weed kicked in, feeling more relaxed as time went by faster. For a bit of time, it was like nothing mattered. Eventually the boys got up to leave, muttering goodbyes as we hadn't realized how late it had gotten. Pansy and I get ready for bed, passing idle chit chat and stupid comments back and forth before settling into bed.

Pansy passed out within minutes, her soft breathing steady in the silence of the room. I, on the other hand, laid under the covers restlessly, tossing and turning as I couldn't find rest. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind refused to shut the fuck up.

I let out a frustrated huff, flipping over to face my clock, my eyes squinting as I read the glowing numbers.

1:37 am. Fuck.

I groan softly, flopping onto my back before turning over once more. Sleep was obviously not happening at this time, and lying here, wide awake and high with no one to talk to was not helping.

Swinging my legs over the bed, I sit up, deciding to do the only logical thing to do when you're stoned and can't sleep– go for a walk to the kitchens and get a snack. My late-night strolls through the castle had been becoming a habit. There was something about the the quiet and the emptiness of the corridors at night that had been so comforting and peaceful to me. The only downside? If you get caught, you're screwed.

But, luckily, that hasn't happened. Yet.

Careful not to wake Pansy, I slide on my slippers before carefully slipping through the door, closing it quietly behind me. I make my way through the common room, the dimly lit fire sending warm kisses on my skin. I peak around the painting before deciding that the coast was clear.

A chill runs down my spine, shivering slightly from the cold air of the dungeons. Wrapping my arms around my body, I wander the halls without a care in the world, my mind hazy as I laugh softly to myself as I round the corner, growing closer to the kitchens.

That was, until a voice– his voice– cuts through the silent atmosphere, causing me to jump as I stop in my tracks.

"Sneaking out?" he drawls. "Such a naughty little witch."

His voice was low, a teasing tone to it. I didn't even have to turn around to know there was a smirk plastered on his lips– I could practically hear it in his voice.

"You're one to talk, Riddle. Isn't that exactly what you're doing?" I shoot back, turning around to face him.

It was strange to see him so dressed down from his usual polished uniform. His shirt clung to his body, his sweats sitting low on his hips. I swallow hard, shaking away my thoughts as I watch him roll his eyes at my retort.

"What're you gonna do? Tell on me?" I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest.

I could feel his gaze sweeping over me, taking in every detail carefully. Maybe it was the weed making me bolder, but I don't want him to know that.

"You're high," he states, ignoring my question.

Well fuck.

"No, I'm not," I lie without hesitation.

His lips curl into a smirk, his eyes darkening as he takes a step closer.

"It's best not to lie to me, witch," he says, his voice smooth but laced with amusement– and maybe something darker that I couldn't quite distinguish. I let out a huff in return.

"Fine. Then I am," I admit, holding back a laugh as I turn on my heels, continuing on my conquest to the kitchens.

"You coming?" I call out over my shoulder, catching the way he clenched his jaw ever so slightly.

He lets out a sigh, and a second later, I hear the sound of his footsteps following me. A small smile creeps onto my lips in triumph.

We reach the doors of the kitchen in silence, the only sounds being the soft echo of our footsteps. With a quiet whisper, I mutter an unlocking charm before pushing the door open just enough to slide in.

Without hesitation, I head towards the pantry, rummaging through different shelves and baskets before grabbing a muffin. With a satisfied hum, I take a seat on the counter, my legs dangling off the side as I unwrap my muffin, facing Riddle as I take a bite from the pastry.

"You weren't in class today?" I muse, watching his reaction carefully.

His expression didn't shift, the smirk on his lips undeniable as he takes a few steps closer.

"Missing my presence?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

I scoff, rolling my eyes in return.

"Not in a million years," I counter. "Just curious why."

The amusement on his face vanished in an instant, his usual unreadable expression returning on his features. His posture stiffens.

"That's none of your business," he replies, his voice sharp.

"Oh, so you can constantly interrogate me about my every move, but I can't ask you one question?" I retort, raising a brow as I take another bite of my muffin.

His eyes flicker with something dark before he narrows them at me.

"Don't feel special, sweetheart," he says.

"What? Does that mean you're stalking every girl in Hogwarts?" I ask, cocking my head slightly as I look up at him.

His jaw tensed, I could practically feel the shift in energy between us, the familiar tension returning. Oh, that one got to him. Why can't I just keep my damn mouth shut?

He closes the gap between his in an instant, his hand roughly grasping the back of my neck, his fingers digging into my skin just enough to earn a soft wince to escape my lips. He forces me to meet his dark gaze as he clenches his jaw.

"You're pathetic if you think that this–" his gaze rakes over me, slow and deliberate as I feel his eyes searing my skin like fire. "–means anything, witch." His voice was low, taunting me with a cruel amusement. "Do you really think I would care enough about you? I thought you were smarter than that, Amora."

A sinister smirk tugs at his lips, twisting into a cold expression. His words hit me like a knife to my chest, and I felt it. Merlin, I felt it.

The haze from the weed was quickly disappearing, reality hitting me hard as I began to sober up. I shouldn't care. Fuck, I don't care. So why did it sting so bad? Why did I feel my stomach twist?

I didn't know what to say, or how to react. I don't know if I even wanted to say anything. Mattheo Riddle had rendered me speechless.

He releases his grip, letting out a low chuckle that cut through the tensions and silence that loomed over us. He backs away slowly, giving me one last look before turning on his heels and walking out, leaving me alone in the dimly lit kitchen with the weight of his words and my own thoughts on my mind.

———

Chapter 6

", you came to me."

~~~

It was finally Friday, which meant going out for butterbeers tonight and my date tomorrow night. I had spoken to Miles a few times since the party last Saturday. He seems like a good guy, maybe a little cocky but still seems sweet. I kept my run-in with Riddle to myself. I didn't even tell Pansy, which says something. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he had hurt me.

Professor Binns finally ended our History of Magic class, snapping me out of my thoughts. I couldn't help but zone out— Professor Binns is dreadfully boring, but it's a core class, so it's required.

"Ready for this weekend, Amora?" Theo asks, throwing his arm around my shoulder as we walk out of class.

"You have no idea, Theo," I smirk, looking over at him.

We return to my dorm, where Pansy is already waiting for us, sitting on her bed as she finishes up some homework.

"Hey, Pans," I greet, closing the door behind Theo and I.

"Hey," she replies back quietly, shifting her gaze to look at Theo and I before returning to her work.

My instincts told me something was bothering her, the tone of her voice and her body language was off. I furrow my brows as I set my bag down.

"Baby, what's wrong?" I question, my voice full of worry.

I come over, sitting on the edge of her bed whilst Theo takes a seat at my desk. Pansy lets out a sight before replying.

"I'm just- worried about Draco, something's up with him." she says, her eyebrows furrowing together, "He keeps flaking on me, he can't go to Three Broomsticks tonight and he cancelled on me the other night when we had plans. I've tried to talk to him about it but he just keeps brushing me off. I'm starting to think he's seeing another girl," she huffs.

"Pans, I really don't think he would do that to you," I say, frowning as I look over at her.

"I mean he has been sneaking out at night occasionally," Theo chimes in, Pansy and I's heads snapping in his direction.

I shoot Theo a small glare, as he was not helping the already complicated situation.

"Are you serious? Where?" Pansy asks quickly.

"Bloody hell if I know," Theo shrugs in return.

I roll my eyes at Theo, shifting my gaze back towards Pansy. I reach out, my hand grasping her's in a comforting manner.

"Listen, Pans, you should talk to him. Don't jump to any conclusions, alright?" I reassure her, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "But first, I think we should go get some butterbeer."

A small smile creeps on her lips as she nods, letting out a small laugh. I couldn't help but match her expression.

We head out of my dorm, grabbing Blaise before walking to Hogsmede. I stay silent as we walk, admiring the beauty of the village and the faint outline of the castle in the distance while the others chattered around me. The crisp fall air and fresh falling leaves surrounding me.

Theo nudges my arm as we reach the Three Broomsticks. "You alright?" he asks, looking down at me.

"I'm fine," I smile up at him. "Just admiring." I add as he opens the door to the pub, gesturing for me to come inside. "Such a gentleman," I tease, walking inside before taking a seat at our usual booth. Pansy and I sit down while Blaise and Theo grab drinks.

As soon as we sit down, Pansy subtly reaches into her bag, pulling out a decent sized flask, flicking open the top.

"Pansy!" I laugh.

"What? Just looking for a little extra fun." she smirks, giving me a little wink. She holds up the flask as I lean over, my face cringing at the strong scent.

"Bloody hell," I mutter, pulling away. "What is that?"

"Firewhiskey." she replies as the boys come back, four butterbeers in their hands.

Pansy scans the room for any lingering eyes before pouring a decent amount into each of our glasses.

"I should have known this would happen," I say, taking a sip of the butterbeer. The whiskey blended well with the sweet taste of butterscotch, going down easy.

We sat and talked for a few hours, starting to feel a lovely buzz as two more rounds of butterbeer were shared. Evenetually, we paid and left, having had a much needed relaxing trip.

I smiled, spinning in a playful circle while me and Pansy joked as we made our way back towards the castle. The sun had now gone down, the moonlight looking down at us as the air had gotten much colder. The streets of the village were rather empty, the soft sound of crunching leaves filling the air as we chattered our way to the castle.

We finally reached the Slytherin Common Room, slumping down on the couches as we continued talking in a much more comfortable setting. The fire crackled next to me, warmth filling the atmosphere as it cast a soft glow over the room. I look over, seeing someone coming down from the boy's dorms. Astoria?

She looked disheveled, her hair a mess, and she was re-buttoning her blouse quickly as she descended down the stairs. A faint flush was cast on her cheeks, seeming a bit flustered.

"Well, well, well." I say, a smirk plastered on my face, my voice dripping with a playful curiosity. Her head snaps in my direction, seeming surprised to see me, or any of us. "What have you been doing, Ms. Greengrass? Or should I say who?" I tease, watching as her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment.

"Astoria, you naughty little thing." Pansy chimes in, a small smirk growing on her lips as she leans further back on the couch, eyeing Astoria with amusement.

Astoria is quick to recover, shaking her head slightly with a dismissive laugh. She takes a few steps closer to us.

"Oh, no, it's nothing," she says quickly. "Just a...friend."

"Well, who's the lucky bloke?" Blaise asks, leaning forwards slightly.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Zabini," she replies sarcastically, looking down at him with a smile as she begins to walk away.

"We'll get it out of you eventually, Astoria!" I shout after her as she leaves, most likely to her own dorm.

Eventually, Theo and Blaise head back to their own rooms, and Pansy and I head upstairs to our own. Pansy plops down on her bed with a satisfied sigh as I close the door behind us, the quiet settling in.

"Do you feel drunk? Because I feel a little drunk," I laugh as I lie down next to her, a smile on her face. We both start a fit of laughter as we lay next to each other, looking up at the ceiling. As it dies out, so does her smile. I look over at her, noticing her change in mood.

"What's wrong, Pans?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

"This might sound really stupid," she begins, looking over at me. "But you don't think Astoria and Draco...?"

Her words trail off, and I immediately knew what she was hinting at.

"No, no, she wouldn't do that to you, baby," I reply. "Look, why don't you go talk to Draco to get your mind off it."

She lets out a sigh, shifting her gaze back towards the ceiling as she brushes a hand through her hair.

"I just feel so...dumb sometimes, you know? Like technically I'm not even his girlfriend and I'm this upset over something that I don't even know is happening," she says, her voice cracking slightly.

"You are not dumb," I say firmly, shifting to face her. "He is the dumb one for not wanting more with you. But he does care about you, a lot. You know that," I give her a reassuring smile, my heart aching for her.

After some more back and forth, she decides to go talk to him, throwing a hoodie on before heading to his dorm.

A sigh escapes my lips as she leaves, once again left alone to my own thoughts. Well, shit. Unable to rest, I decide to go for a walk. Something about being intoxicated makes me want to wander the castle I suppose.

My feet take me to the Astronomy Tower, the best view of Hogwarts.

I head up the many flights of stairs before finally reaching the top, walking over to the ledge as I lean over the railing, admiring the castle in the glow of the moonlight and the various mountains that surrounded it. I take a deep breath as I watch contently from above, the cold air sending a small shiver down my spine.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" the sudden familiarity of the voice made me snap my head around. I freeze, my heart skipping a beat as I turn to face him.

"How long have you been here?" I ask, my voice coming out much more abrupt than I intended.

I watch as he takes a long drag of his cigarette, plucking it from his lips as he blows out a cloud of smoke. The smell of tobacco fills my senses, lingering in the air.

"Clearly you don't pay enough attention to your surroundings, witch." he replies, his lips curling into his typical smirk.

I raise a brow at him, crossing my arms over my chest as I turn back around to face the scenery.

"Well, I didn't come here to chat." I roll my eyes subtly, hoping he would take the hint.

But instead, his hand grasps my shoulder, roughly spinning be back around to face him. My breath hitches in my throat as I suddenly become hyper aware of our close proximity.

"Don't turn your back when I'm talking to you," he warns, a threatening tone in his voice as he lowers his gaze at me, his cigarette still dangling in his other hand.

"Well I don't feel like talking to you right now," I say, my eyes meeting his.

"Oh, sweetheart," he coos, his voice dripping with mockery. "I wasn't giving you an option."

There was a certain darkness that followed him, a sense of danger that should have worried me, but for some reason it didn't. Almost every other student feared him or knew not to mess with him, and yet, here I was, constantly talking back to him. I'm either very brave or insanely stupid.

"Well? What do you want then?" I ask, looking up at him as he smirks, taking a small step back as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

I couldn't lie, he looked attractive. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way the moonlight shown, perfectly highlighting his features.

"Well?" he says, cocking his head as he puffs out a cloud of smoke. "I was here first, witch, you came to me." he says, his smirk only widening.

"If I had known you were here, I wouldn't have come," I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes darkened as he looked down at me.

"I'm sure you believe that," he laughs.

I let out a scoff, rolling my eyes at his words.

"Excuse me?" I ask, watching as he takes one last dragof his cigarette before putting it out. "What makes you think I would care enough?" I question, using his own words from the previous night.

He rolls his eyes in return, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

"Let me get this straight, you've been practically following me around Hogwarts and I stumble upon you once and you think I purposefully sought you out?" I say, my voice riddled with both disbelief and amusement, furrowing my brows as I look up at him.

"If the shoe fits." he says, looking down at me with a dangerous gaze as he smirks smugly.

"You're ridiculous." I scoff, rolling my eyes.

Merlin, if I roll my eyes one more time I might actually see my brain. He clenches his jaw as he steps closer to me, looming over me as I catch his gaze.

He reaches down, his hand against the side of my face as his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. His fingers were cold against my skin, his touch deceptively gentle. My breath catches in my throat, my body frozen with both defiance and something much darker, something I would never admit to myself.

Without warning he roughly presses the sharp tip of his wand against my throat, the contrast sending a chill down my spine. I swallow hard, forcing myself to stay still, though my hammering pulse was betraying the calm mask I was trying to hold.

I meet his gaze with wide eyes, his smirk only growing as he senses my fear. He leans in close enough to feel his breath ghost over my lips before leaning in to speak in my ear. I could tell he thrives off this– the power, the control, the fear. The way he could make just about anyone second guess themselves.

"What have I told you, witch?" he questions, his voice low.

My heart hammers in my chest as I stay silent, both unable to speak and not sure what to say even if I could.

"Figures." he taunts as he releases his grip and wand, taking another step back. "Now leave," he says, pulling out a box of cigarettes from his pocket.

I turn to leave without a word, reaching the top of the stairs as he calls out.

"Oh, and do yourself a favor, don't go with him tomorrow." he says, his words making me stop in my tracks, turning to look at him.

What is he on about? Miles? How did he even know about that?

"What do you mean?" I ask, peering over at him as he places another cigarette between his lips, lighting the end of it.

"With Bletchley, don't go." he says, letting out a puff of smoke as he plucks it from his lips.

I look at him for a moment, furrowing my brows before turning to leave. What did he know anyways, this didn't concern him.

I shake off the unsettling feeling in my stomach as I walk back to my dorm, once again alone.

~~~

"How do I look?" I ask, turning around to face Pansy as I show her both my makeup and outfit I picked.

"Amora Sinclair, you look absolutely perfect." she says, placing her hands on the side of my head, our foreheads almost touching. I smile, laughing softly as I pull away, grabbing my purse and putting on my shoes.

"I'm kinda nervous..." I say, turning to face her once again. "I'm never nervous for stuff like this!"

Pansy lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly.

"There's no need to be nervous, love, you'll be great. He'll love you." she says.

"Love is a little crazy, but I think I actually like him." I reply, giving her a small smile.

"Well, I would hope so. Now go, go. Don't be late." she says, motioning me towards the door as I roll my eyes playfully before leaving. I let out a deep breath as I reach the bottom of the stairs, seeing Miles waiting for me near the couches. He looks up, a smirk plastered on his face as he stands up straight.

"You look stunning, Amora," he says, a small grin playing on his lips as I approach him.

"Why thank you, Bletchley, you don't look to bad yourself." I reply, smiling as I look up at him. "So what do you have planned for this evening?"

He holds out his arm for me to take, lowering his eyes at me.

"Well, why don't you just trust me and come find out?" he says teasingly as I take his arm. We leave the castle, walking towards Hogsmeade as he takes me to a small cafe.

"Figured this was more your style." he says as we take a seat in the shop. My eyes wander the room, the place decorated with plants and fairy lights and books with a small fire lit in the corner, the flames dancing around as warmth envelopes my skin.

"It seems you know me too well already," I laugh. He orders us coffees and pastries.

"You know, I've always fancied you, Amora," he says, taking a sip from his cup.

"So why did it take you so long to finally make a move?" I ask, laughing softly as I take a sip from my coffee.

"I mean, look at you," he says, gesturing towards me, "you're gorgeous and intimidating."

I roll my eyes in a playful manner, my hands wrapped around the warmth of the mug.

"Oh please," I scoff, my tone light and playful. "The Miles Bletchley was too afraid to ask me out?"

"It's true, I swear!" he says, putting his hands up defensively.

"Well, enough of the flattery, I want to actually get to know you." I say, taking another sip of coffee.

"Ask me anything." he replies.

He had an essence of confidence that followed him, in the way he walked, talked, expressed himself, everything. Maybe even a little cocky. But there was something about him, a certain charm that drew me in, painting a smile on my face.

We ended up talking for over 2 hours, about anything and everything. Our families, school, aspirations, fears, childhoods, you name it. I was actually having a really nice time.

"You know, I have one last thing planned for tonight," he says, standing up and offering me a hand.

I give him a skeptical look, pausing for a moment before taking his hand as he leads me back towards the castle.

"Miles where are we going?" I ask, laughing softly as he drags me away somewhere.

"Well, love, you're just gonna have to trust me." he says, looking down at me with a smirk as we keep walking. The sun was almost down, stars beginning to shine through the chill of the night air.

He takes me back over the bridge to Hogwarts, heading towards the lake, just on the edge of the forbidden forest. We stop near a willow tree, a beautiful atmosphere with a view of the mountains and countryside around us.

"Is this where you take all the girls?" I ask, my tone teasing. "Make them swoon over you?" I joke, looking up at him.

He stops, turning towards me as he places his hand on my waist, our bodies almost touching.

"No," he shakes his head. "This is where I'm taking you because you're special, Amora." he says, a smirk on his lips.

"And why's that?" I ask, tilting my head slightly.

"You sure do ask a lot of questions, don't you?" he laughs, his eyes glancing towards my lips as he slowly leans down. I roll my eyes playfully at him as I feel myself leaning closer to his touch.

I don't stop him this time, as he gently presses his lips against mine. I wrap my arms behind his neck as I kiss him back softly. His hand tightens around my waist, his other hand reaching up and resting against my cheek. He pulls away, his thumb caressing my cheek gently as I look up at him.

"You are special, Amora." he says. I give him a smile in return.

I pull away, looking one last time at my surroundings. There was something so beautiful about Hogwarts, yet always so overlooked.

I took his hand once more as we walked back to the castle, making our way to the Slytherin Common Room once again.

"I had a really nice time tonight." I say, smiling as I look up at him.

"And maybe we could do it again sometime?" he hints.

"Goodnight, Miles," I laugh softly. He leans down once again, placing a soft kiss against my lips, pulling away quickly.

"Goodnight, Amora." he replies.

I give him a smile before turning on my heels and heading up the stairs, back to my dorm.

———

Chapter 7

"Tell me you want this."

~~~

October 5, 1996

"I'm just saying, he's got that 'all knowing' look to him. Like he's got eyes everywhere." Theo says, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth.

"Mate, you sound like a mad man." Draco replies, lowering his eyes at Theo.

"Dumbledore is a Legilimens, he can get into your thoughts. That doesn't mean he's watching over you like Santa Claus." I add, taking a sip of my coffee. We were sat in the Great Hall, having breakfast before class.

"Bloody hell, this is hurting my head." Theo grumbles, his hand rubbing the side of his temple.

"Probably fried too many brain cells." Blaise snickers, earning a laugh from everyone except Theodore.

"Very funny, Zabini."

"Oh look Amora, there's your boyfriend." Pansy teases.

I turn my head, seeing Miles walking towards the door to the Great Hall, already looking towards me. I shoot him a smile before turning back to my friends.

"He's not my boyfriend," I say, rolling my eyes playfully.

"That's not what it sounded like last night." Theo says, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

I feel my cheeks warm up, turning a slight shade of pink as I give Theo's arm a slap.

"Theodore!" I scold, turning towards him.

"Oh look at the time, don't want to be late for potions now, right?" Pansy speaks up, grabbing her bag.

"Right behind you." I reply, grabbing my bag and throwing it over my shoulder as we both stand up, leaving the boys at the table.

"You dirty girl!" Pansy says quietly to me as we walk out of the Great Hall. "When were you gonna tell you guys fucked!"

I let out a laugh, shaking my head slightly.

"We didn't, but that doesn't mean we haven't done other things..." I trail off, giving her a little wink. "But Merlin, I don't want to know how Theo heard."

"Oh please, he's a little git, he has his ways," she laughs. "So he still hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend?"

I let out a sigh, my eyes looking down at my feet as we walk down the busy corridors.

"No, not yet," I shrug, frowning slightly.

"Well do you want him to?" she asks, raising a brow.

"Of course I want him to, but I don't know. Maybe he wants to take it slow." I reply.

"I mean it's only been a few weeks, I'm sure he will soon." she gives me a reassuring smile.

"Anyways.." I say, subtly changing the subject. "Did you ever find out who Astoria has been hooking up with?"

"Nope, she won't spill." she says, giving me a small smirk. "But I'm pretty sure they're still seeing each other. More recently too."

When Pansy talked to Draco a few weeks ago, he checked out. He reassured her that he's not seeing anyone else. He had a bit of a breakdown saying it's just stress, which makes sense considering some of his strange behaviors.

I'm a bit worried about him, but I don't feel as if it's my place to confront him about it. Chances are it's just family drama or issues. Merlin knows we all have a bit of that.

We round the corner, finally reaching the potions classroom, the boys following shortly after. I took my seat, throwing my bag down next to me as Professor Snape begins the lesson. Not long after, the door swings open as a dull silence falls over the room.

"Late again Mr. Riddle," Snape says, his voice an emotionless drawl.

Snape narrows his eyes as Mattheo waltzes through the classroom with the same cockiness he carries everywhere else.

"Apologies, Professor," he replies in a condescending tone, taking his seat next to me.

"That's 5 points from Slytherin," Snape adds without missing a beat.

He turns around, his cape flowing behind him as he resumes lecturing. His words hung in the air, yet no one dared make a sound. Because it was him.

I hated how much he was feared— how much control he had over people. Mattheo didn't have to do anything, didn't have to prove anything to anyone. It was simply the fear of his name. And he loved it. You can see it written all over his smug little smirk.

"How's your little boyfriend?" he whispers to me, his voice low and taunting.

I roll my eyes in return, my fingers tightening my grip on my quill, trying to focus and take notes.

"He's not my boyfriend...yet." I whisper back, muttering the last part as if it was an afterthought, full of uncertainty.

"My my," he responds, the amusement in his voice growing darker as his lips curl into a sinister smirk. "So desperate for the love and affection of a man like that. It's pathetic."

A scoff escapes my lips as I resist the urge to snap back and make a scene. Do you want to know what I hate most of all about Mattheo Riddle? I hate the way he can so easily get under my skin.

"You don't know anything." I say, turning my attention back towards the lesson.

"Oh, sweetheart, I know more than you think," he whispers in my ear, his voice smooth and dangerous. Before I can process what was happening, I feel his hand grazing my thigh.

My breath hitches in my throat as I clench my jaw, feeling a wave of discomfort and anger wash over me. I instantly shove his hand away, shaking off whatever feelings he stirred. I refuse to let him have power over me. I do my best to ignore him, resuming my note taking as I press my quill against my parchment a bit too hard.

As soon as the class was dismissed, I quickly grab my things, my mind still racing. I didn't want to be in that room any longer. I storm out of the classroom, pushing past any students in my way. Not long after, Pansy catches up to me.

"Love, is there something wrong?" she asks, her voice laced with concern as she catches up to my pace.

"There's something I should tell you," I reply, looking over at her as I meet her gaze.

We make our way back to our dorm, taking a seat at the edge of my bed as the words come spilling out. I tell her everything— from the library, to the run-in at the kitchens, to the Astronomy Tower, and just now in class.

"Pans," I sigh, running a frustrated hand through my hair. "I feel like he's tormenting me. It's like he's playing with me, I know it."

Pansy watches and listens carefully, furrowing her brows as she processes what I'm telling her. She crosses her arms over her chest, facing me.

"You need to stop talking to him. He's dangerous, Amora," she says.

"If only it were that easy!" I laugh, but not out of humor. "Merlin, that's all anyone says is that he's so dangerous! And I should be afraid and all that. But he hasn't done a damn thing. Not that I can bloody escape him anyways."

"Well I don't suggest that you find out. Trust me, Amora, I haven't heard very good things from Draco," Pansy replies, genuine concern in her voice.

"Just—please don't tell anyone about this," I say as she takes a seat next to me. "I don't want to give him the satisfaction of him thinking he has an effect on me."

"I promise." she replies quickly, giving me a reassuring look.

~~~

"You guys coming to the Quidditch game tomorrow?" Blaise asks Pansy and I as we settle into our usual spots in the Great Hall for dinner. Warm chatter fills the room around us, students excited for the upcoming weekend.

"Wouldn't miss it," Pansy replies, a knowing smirk growing on her lips. "Plus Amora needs to go support her man."

I roll my eyes in a playful manner, pushing my food around my plate with my fork.

"Pansy we've been over this." I say, shooting her a look.

"Sweetheart, I'm hurt," Theo interjects, placing a hand on his chest in a mocking way. "I thought you were coming to see me."

"Oh, Theodore, baby, don't be jealous." I tease, a smirk tugging at my lips.

"You two confuse the fuck out of me," Blaise mutters, shaking his head slightly as he stabs his fork into a piece of chicken.

"I think we've all thought that in the last 6 years," Draco says, peering up from his plate.

"You guys suck," I laugh, shaking my head.

"And apparently, you swallow," Theo says suggestively, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

My jaw drops slightly, throwing my fork down as it collides with my plate.

"I swear to Merlin, Theodore, if you make one more comment about my sex life, I will pitch you off the Astronomy Tower." I say to him, just a hint of seriousness in my voice.

He throws his hands up defensively, his eyes twinkling with mischief as I lower my gaze at him.

"Looks like I've struck a nerve." he replies in a joking manner.

After dinner, we head back towards the Slytherin common room, taking our usual spots on the couches. The fireplace was lit, casting a light glow against the cold stone walls. The familiar hum of conversation fills the room. My eyes glance around the common room, landing on Miles, who's engaged in a conversation with one of his friends.

"I'll be right back," I mutter to my friends, excusing myself as I push off the couch, heading towards Miles.

"Hey," I greet, a small smile lingering on my lips as I approach him.

His eyes flicker to mine, a smirk growing on his lips.

"Hey princess," he replies.

He introduces me to his friends before quickly excusing us, leading me to the staircase. I feel my heart flutter in my chest as we head up to his dorm. He unlocks the door, pushing it open before gesturing me to come in.

As I step inside, my eyes wander the room, having never been in his dorm before. The strong scent of cologne immediately fills my senses, quidditch jerseys slung over his chair and textbooks littered his desks. His room was neither clean nor messy, giving it a comfortable feeling.

I take a seat at the edge of his bed, leaning back slightly as I prop myself up on my palms, glancing up at him.

"Are you nervous for tomorrow?" I ask.

Miles walks over, standing in front of me, his presence towering but relaxed. His fingers gently tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Not when I have my good luck charm with me," he murmurs, his smirk growing.

Without hesitation, he leans down, catching my lips in a slow, gentle kiss. His touch was almost teasing, our lips molding together as his hand lingers on my chin, moving down to my jaw. After a moment he pulls away, his eyes lingering on my lips before meeting my gaze.

"That reminds me," he says, turning towards his closet.

I watch as he rummages through his things before grabbing a hoodie and walking back over to me. He hands me the sweatshirt, I give him a skeptical smile as I take it, holding it up as I inspect it.

It was black fabric with bold green lettering spelling out Bletchley on the back, with the number 2 below it.

"I wanted you to wear it tomorrow," he says, his eyes carefully watching my reaction.

I raise a brow as I meet his gaze once again, a small laugh escaping my lips.

"Wow, Bletchley, giving me your last name already," I tease.

"Mmm not quite yet," he says, stepping closer, leaving no space between us. "But just wait for our wedding day," he whispers in my ear, placing softly kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

I let out a small laugh as he does this, setting the hoodie aside before running my fingers through his hair, tugging gently.

"Is that so?" I tease as he nips the delicate skin on my neck, my breath hitching in my throat as his lips linger.

"Mhm." he hums before pulling away, his face just inches from mine.

His expression shifts, something deeper and much more serious taking over. His finger trails against my jaw, sending goosebumps along my skin as I glance up at him.

"I want you to be mine, Amora," he says.

"Are you asking what I think you're asking?" I murmur, my lips parting slightly as he tilts my face up to look at him.

He lets out a soft chuckle, his smirk never faltering.

"Amora, will you be my girlfriend?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I press my lips against his hungrily, my fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as I pull him closer. He responds quickly he places one of his hands against my cheek, deepening the kiss. It was heated—intoxicating my senses.

I pull away for a moment, just enough to catch my breath, my lips brushing against his.

"Does that answer your question?" I smirk, catching my bottom lip between my teeth as I meet his gaze.

"Oh, princess, don't look at me like that," he says, his eyes raking over me with, darkening with desire.

"Or what?" I challenge, my voice laced with teasing.

His jaw tightens slightly, his tongue rolling against his cheek before he finally snaps. He crashes his lips against mine again, his hand gripping my waist as he pushes me back against the mattress. His body presses against mine as his hand trails down my side, his fingers skimming against my thigh before gripping it possessively.

The air grows thicker between us, our breaths ragged as his lips work against mine. He pulls away abruptly, his chest rising and falling quickly as he hovers above me, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Tell me you want this." he murmurs, his voice low as his eyes gaze into mine.

"I want this." I nod softly as I look up at him, my heart hammering in my chest.

~~~

"So, how did he ask you?" Pansy asks excitedly as we get ready for the Quidditch match.

"Well, he gave me his hoodie to wear for today and it just... came out I suppose." I say, applying my mascara. "Oh, and did I mention that he said he wants to marry me one day?"

"Merlin, that man moves fast." She laughs.

"Tell me about it." I say, looking over at her. "But I don't know, there's something kinda sweet knowing he sees a future with me. Makes me think this one will last."

"Well he would be an idiot to think otherwise." she replies, coming up behind me in the mirror and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "Maybe some of your love will rub off on my relationship." she adds.

I look at her through the mirror, setting my eyelash curler down as she pulls away.

"How's everything going with him?" I ask.

Pansy lets out a sigh, sliding her arms through her jacket as I finish up my makeup.

"Better, since we talked. I'm trying to be there for him. I know this year has been a lot on him and his family." she replies, giving me a small shrug.

"Good, baby, I'm glad." I say, getting up from my desk. "Maybe this year we will both be better in the men department." I joke.

I smirk as I turn around to face her, shooting her a little wink.

"Better pray for a miracle on that one." she laughs.

I slide on the hoodie over my tank top as we get ready to leave.

"Ready?" she asks as I put my shoes on, grabbing my purse.

"Ready." I smile as we leave our dorm, heading to the Quidditch pitch.

Today's match was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, the biggest rivalry in Hogwarts quidditch. It will make for a hell of an interesting game, and hopefully a fun victory party.

We take our seats in one of the wooden towers, a perfect view over the field that oversees all the action.

"Guess we're right on time." I mutter to Pansy as the teams just finished warming up, taking their positions on the field as Madam Hooch steps up, releasing the bludgers and snitch before tossing the quaffle, signifying the start of the game.

"Ginny Weasley takes possession of the Quaffle! Passing it to fellow chaser Dean Thomas... Thomas goes in for the goal! ... Blocked by Miles Bletchley!" Lee Jordan yells into the microphone.

"Zabini just avoids a bludger! Zabini passes the quaffle to Nott! Nott goes in for the goal! And he scores! 10 points to Slytherin."

~~~

Celebratory cheers could be heard all throughout the castle from the Slytherin Common Room. A win in Quidditch always meant for a party afterward. With music blasting, a crowd had formed around the players with congratulations, admiration, and celebration.

I downed the rest of whatever was in my solo cup, the liquid burning slightly as it went down. I grab Pansy's hand, leading her closer to the center. Miles spotted me through the crowd as we moved closer, a smile spreading on his face.

I finally reached him as he wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me up as I wrap my arms behind his neck. He effortlessly spun me around in a circle, a small laugh escaping my lips as he placing my feet back on the ground. He wasted no time, crashing his lips against mine, the lingering taste of firewhiskey between us. He pulls away after a few seconds.

"I'm so proud of you," I say, smiling as I look up at him.

"Thanks, princess," he replies, looking back down at me. He grabs me another drink, his arm still around my waist as he celebrates with his teammates. My eyes wander the room, scanning through the crowd of people before abruptly stopping—landing on him.

My gaze meets Mattheo's, leaning against the wall, a smirk growing on his lips as he sees me looking back at him. He tips his solo cup towards me before taking a slow sip. I roll my eyes, quickly forcing myself to look away.

"You alright?" Miles asks, looking down at me.

"I'm fine." I say, painting on a reassuring smile as I look back at him. "I'm gonna go find Pansy, I'll meet you later?"

His brows pull together slight, as if debating whether to press the issue or not. He agrees, placing a kiss on my neck before letting go of his grip on my waist.

With one last glance at him, I step back, slipping into the crowd as my eyes scan the room, pushing my pay past the sea of bodies. The room is electric—the music, the atmosphere, and the celebration of the win. My eyes finally find Pansy, sitting on the couches, deep in conversation with Astoria.

"Hey babes." I greet both of them before taking a seat next to them.

"There's our lover girl," Pansy teases, her voice dripping with amusement as a smirk grows on her lips. earning a playful eye roll from me.

I roll my eyes at her in a playful manner, settling into my spot.

"So, you and Bletchley are official?" Astoria asks, a small glint of something I couldn't quite distinguish in her eyes.

"As of last night," I nod, a smile growing on my lips. The words felt strange, rolling from my tongue in an unnatural manner.

Pansy hums, clearly intrigued, but instead of pushing further she reaches into her pocket, pulling out a joint.

"Anyone wanna smoke?" Pansy asks, holding it up.

"Is that even a question?" I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

We find a spot on the couches, Pansy places the joint between her lips, lighting it up and taking a hit before blowing out a cloud of smoke. She passes it to me as I take big hit, letting it fill my lungs before puffing it out.

I take another small hit before passing it to Astoria, feeling the familiar burn in my lungs before blowing out the cloud of smoke. The music still blared around us, the green lights and the scent of marijuana adding to the euphoric atmosphere. I lean my head against the back of the couch, taking a deep breath as I feel the effects of both the weed and alcohol hitting my system.

"I gotta pee, I'll be right back," I murmur, getting up from the couches.

I push through the crowd, making my way to the bathrooms. Reaching around the corner, I let out a gasp of surprise as a hand grasps my wrists, pinning me against the wall away from anyone's gaze.

I look up, my eyes wide with fear as I was taken off guard. I roll my eyes as I realize who it is. Mattheo fucking Riddle. Who's surprised?

"What do you want?" I ask, giving him a rather nasty look.

"Now, now, little witch. Let's not get hostile," he says, looking down at me with a smirk.

"What is your problem? Why do you constantly have to torment me, huh?" I question, the substances in my system giving me a false sense of confidence.

"Oh the accusations." he rolls his eyes, his hand gripping my jaw roughly.

"Don't touch me." I snap back.

My hand grasps his wrist in an attempt to tear his hand away, but he doesn't budge. He lets out an amused chuckle at my efforts.

"I would be very careful with your choice of words to me tonight, witch," he says, his eyes darkening.

I could smell the faint essence of alcohol on his breath.

"You grabbed me, Riddle, remember?" I say, tilting my head slightly as I clench my jaw, my gaze boring into his.

"Maybe I just wanted you all to myself," he replies, a smirk growing on his lips.

"You're sick." I scoff.

"Aren't we all?" he says, cocking his head slightly as he looks down at me.

"And you're drunk." I say, cringing slightly.

"A bit hypocritical of you is it not?" he smirks, his cocky attitude suffocating my senses. "But that's just you, isn't it, Amora? Too caught up in the little delusional world you've build for yourself to see clearly. It's truly just pathetic."

He actually said my name. For the first time in the month that I've known him. I hate the way it sounded coming from his lips, in such a condescending manner. I hated the way he could get so deep under my skin. The way he so effortlessly can just tear you apart with his words. Merlin, I hate him.

"You don't know a single thing about me or my life," I snap, feeling anger radiate off of me. "Stay the fuck away from me."

"Oh, sweetheart. You don't even know the half of it," he says mockingly, releasing his grip on my chin, his other hand lingering on my wrist for a moment before finally letting me go.

I quickly push past him, not caring to talk to him for another moment.

I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that, but I'm also not sure if I want to find out. Some things are better left a mystery. His mere presence leaves me with nothing but unanswered questions.

I didn't bother telling anyone I left. I couldn't stay there. I headed back for my dorm, slamming the door shut behind me. I decided to just go to bed. I take my makeup off quickly before changing into some more comfortable clothes.

A soft knock on my door snapped me out of my thoughts just as I was going to lay down. Letting out a sigh, I open the door, only for it to just be Miles.

"Hey," I say, opening the door wider to let him come in.

"Pansy said she saw you leave, I wanted to check in on you," he says, stepping inside.

"Yeah, yeah.. I'm fine, I was just tired." I say, giving him a convincing smile.

I didn't like lying to him. I knew I should be honest, but something inside me was telling me to keep this to myself.

"I'll let you get your sleep then," he says, returning my smile, placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, baby, I have a group project. But I'll talk to you Monday, yeah?" he replies, taking a step backwards as he heads towards the door.

After agreeing, he heads out, probably to get back to the party. I felt a combination of emotions running through my head—confusion, anger, irritation, you name it. I run a frustrated hand through my hair, deciding to just sleep it off.

———

Chapter 8

"Be a good girl and be quiet for me now, yeah?"

~~~

October 22, 1996

I haven't talked to Riddle since the party, some part of me was relieved. In the few times he actually did show up to class, he stayed quiet, stealing a few glances every now and again. But his words still plagued my mind, a constant thought in the back of my head that kept chipping until I eventually snap. Curse him for being so cryptic.

I don't know why he had such an impact on me. I knew it was stupid, but yet he had an infuriating way of getting under my skin. One thing I do know is how much he enjoys it, I can see it written all over the smirk that's constantly on his face. But I'm not the only one. He enjoys taunting people and causing chaos, sitting back and watching as the world caves in around him.

It was nearing Halloween, my favorite holiday. I loved everything about it: the dressing up, the fall atmosphere, the pumpkins that float in the great hall, the food, the parties, everything. I sat in the library, attempting to finish my essay for History of Magic, but instead, I was daydreaming. I held my quill loosely in my hand as I stared off into space, not hearing footsteps coming up behind me.

"What're you doing?" I jump as a voice whispers lowly in my ear. I snap my head, my heart just about jumping out of my chest before letting out a sight of relief.

"Merlin, you scared me." I say, placing a hand over my chest to slow down my heart rate. He lets out a chuckle, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek as he takes a seat next to me.

"I'm sorry, princess," Miles gives me a sly smirk, settling into the library chair. "daydreaming again?"

"More like making an unsuccessful attempt at writing about the Witch Trials." I set down my quill, crossing my arms over my chest and sitting back in my chair as I peer over at him.

"Well, I could think of a few healthy distractions." he replies, placing his hand on my thigh, tracing gentle circles around my skin.

"You're funny." I say, rolling my eyes playfully.

"Who said I'm joking?" he cocks his head, his eyes flickering to my lips suggestively.

Even if it had only been just under two months, I feel like I've known Miles for so much longer. There was a small part of me that was skeptical of him at first, but I really feel like this could go somewhere. He's they type of guy that you can spend talking till 4 am and not realize, or simply sit in silence and just enjoy each other's presence. He actually treated me right for once.

"I really need to get my homework done." I say, placing my hand over his, making him look up and meet my gaze. "Plus we're in the library." I laugh.

"I can be quiet." he says, his lips curling into a grin as he looks at me.

"You're so dirty." I tease, letting go of his hand as I grab my quill once again.

I turn back towards my work, focusing on the parchment below me as I look to where I left off. I could feel his gaze burning into me as his hand crept higher up, making my breath shallow in my chest as he left a trail of goosebumps on my skin.

My hand gripped my quill, knuckles turning white as he inched up my skirt. His fingers grazed my panties as he studied my reaction. I closed my eyes for a moment, gaining my composure.

"Miles.." I warned, turning my head back toward him.

"Be a good girl and be quiet for me now, yeah?" he says softly as his hand slides into my panties, his finger grazing against my growing heat. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, my eyes closing for a moment as his fingers brush against my clit.

The sound of nearing footsteps snapped me back into reality, my hand gripping his wrist. I could hear someones faint voice coming closer as Miles pulled his hand back. My cheeks were flushed with both arousal and embarrassment. Did that really just happen? Merlin kill me.

Our heads turned as two students walked past our aisle, talking quietly amongst themselves. Miles turned back towards me. We looked at each other for a moment before I let out a laugh of disbelief. His lips curled up into a small smile, letting out a chuckle as well.

"On that note, I've got Quidditch practice soon." he says, standing up and slinging his bag around his shoulder. He places a soft kiss on top of my head.

"See you tonight?" I ask, looking up at him.

"I'll see you tonight, princess." he smirks before turning and walking away. I take a deep breath before turning my focus back to my parchment.

~~~

"Are you fucking serious?" Pansy asked as she shifted through her wardrobe, a sly grin on her face as she glances over at me. I sat on the edge of my bed, propped up on my elbows.

"Unfortunately yes." I say, running a hand through my hair. "Almost getting fingered in the library was definitely not on my bucket list for this year."

"Such a kinky girl, Amora." Pansy teases, earning an eye roll from me.

She moves around the hangers in her wardrobe, biting the inside of her lip softly. She pulls out a piece, turning towards me as she places it against her body as if she was wearing it.

"What about this one?" she asks, facing me as she shows off a long sleeved black dress.

"Oh Pans, that one is gorgeous." I say, giving her a smile as I sit up, examining her outfit choice.

"You think?" she turns towards the mirror, holding the dress against her body.

I get up from the bed, coming up behind her. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, giving her a small hug.

"You are going to look absolutely stunning, baby." I say to her before pulling away. "So where are you guys going?"

I know it sounds strange for Pansy and Draco to still be doing this weird exclusive non-relationship thing, but that was just them. It was their dynamic. And in some strange sense it made them fit so well together. He's treated her so well in the last month since everything.

"Just to Three Broomsticks." she says, beginning to strip off her clothes to change. "Then probably his dorm." she adds, turning her head and giving me a sly smirk as she slides the dress on.

I let out a small laugh, rolling my eyes playfully. I stopped for a moment, my brows furrowing as a thought dawned on me.

"Wait doesn't Draco have Quidditch practice?" I ask, giving her a confused look.

"Yeah they did, but they got out like an hour ago." she replies, adjusting the length of the dress in the mirror for a moment before turning towards me.

"I could have sworn Miles told me it runs till 6." I say, my eyes glancing towards the clock.

5:47 pm.

"Nope. It's usually 3-5 today." Pansy walks over to the bathroom, making any last touches to her makeup.

I frown slightly, thinking for a moment. Maybe I just have the times mixed up. He probably told me 5 and I just forgot, right? I shake off the thought. Just a mistake.

"Hmm."

"Everything okay?" she asks from the bathroom.

"Yeah, yeah. I think I just mixed up the times or dates or something." I reply, running a hand through my hair as I get up from my bed.

I go over to my wardrobe, grabbing a simple long sleeve and a pair of baggy jeans. I take off my uniform, changing into my other clothes.

Pansy comes out of the bathroom, grabbing a pair of black boots that hit just below the knee.

"You look hot." I say, giving her a smirk as she puts on her shoes.

"Oh thank you, baby, that's all you." she replied, returning my expression.

A soft knock on the door interrupts us.

"Doors open." I say loud enough to be heard outside. The door slowly swings open, Draco appearing behind it. He steps inside, hands in his pockets.

"Ready Pans?" he asks, giving her a glance up and down, a small smirk growing on his lips.

Pansy stands up, grabbing her purse before turning towards him, giving him an adoring smile.

"Ready." she says, coming closer to him.

"Oh please take good care of our girl, Dray. She better be home by 10 pm, no later." I tease, earning a small glare from Draco and a laugh from Pansy.

"Never utter that name again, Amora." he says, rolling his eyes at me.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Malfoy." I say playfully, giving pansy a little smirk as she tries to stifle another laugh.

Pansy steps closer to Draco as he wraps his arm around her waist.

"I'll see you later, baby." Pansy says, giving me a little wink as they turn and leave. I put on my shoes as well, leaving the dorm and locking the door behind me.

I head over to Theo and Blaise's room to meet for dinner, as per usual. I head up the stairs to the boys dormitories, knocking on the door softly before coming in. I shut the door behind me before plopping down on Theo's bed.

"Why don't you make yourself comfortable, Amora?" Theo says sarcastically as he comes out of the bathroom, a wet towel dangling from his hand.

"We both know that's not a problem for me." I smirk over at him as he tosses his towel and some dirty clothes in a bin next to his dresser.

I sit up against his pillows, crossing my legs as I wait for the boys to get ready. I decide not to ask about Quidditch practice. I figure it was probably my own mistake. And partially because I didn't want to come to terms with the possibilities that he's lying to me. He has no reason to.

"Can you two pleaseeee hurry up." I say, tilting my head back, resting against the wall. "I'm starving."

"Merlin, you've only been waiting for like two minutes" Blaise replies. He puts his own laundry away before throwing on some shoes.

"Patience isn't my strong suit today." I shrug, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed. Of course, Theo takes too long.

"Is it ever really?" Theo smirks at me as he finally gets ready to leave. I roll my eyes at him.

We leave their dorm, heading down to the Great Hall for dinner. By the time we got there, dinner had already started, we took our seats at our usual spot. Sitting down, I began filling my plate.

~~~

"You two are nauseating." Theo says, crossing his arms over his chest.

We were sat in the Slytherin Common Room; Miles had joined us. I had my feet propped up on the rest of the couch, resting my back against him as he had his arm around my shoulders. I roll my eyes, sticking my tongue out at Theo. He gives me a smirk before sticking his tongue back out at me mockingly.

"Don't be jealous, Nott." Miles says, a smug smirk on his face.

I shake my head at them both, my eyes wandering the room. I tune them out as they start talking about something or other in Quidditch. I enjoy the warm heat lingering on my skin from the fireplace. My eyes flicker to the back of the common room, where a few leather chairs and a bookcase sat. There Mattheo was, sitting in one of the chairs, a book in his hand. He looked so peaceful. An unusually calm presence on his face that is usually replaced with a rather hard, unreadable expression.

My eyes lingered for too long, I was practically staring. His eyes flicker up, meeting directly with mine. I quickly look away, suddenly wanting to rejoin the conversation. Theo looks at me, a confused look on his face. He could read my gaze, noticing who I was looking at. I shook my head in response, practically communicating with no words. He shrugged it off, turning and saying something to Blaise instead.

Miles looks down at me, brushing a strand of hair away from face and tucking it behind my ear. I give him a small smile as I look up at him for a moment before returning my attention.

Suddenly, Pansy comes through the doors of the common room, hand in hand with Draco. She had a smile painted on her face. It made me happy to see her happy. They head up the stairs to the boy's dormitories without saying a word to one of us. Blaise and Theo exchange a look, I furrow my brows in confusion.

"What was that look for?" I lower my eyes at them skeptically.

"Draco finally asked her to be his girlfriend." Blaise says, a smirk on his lips.

My jaw falls open in both disbelief and excitement. It was about bloody time.

"How do you know?" I ask eagerly.

"Draco hold us his plan a few nights ago." Theo replies, shifting to make himself more comfortable on the couch.

"And you didn't tell me?!" I say, cocking my head, my jaw still open as I took it in.

Theo lets out a small chuckle. "Amora, we both know you would not be able to hold that information from Pansy."

I roll my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Fair point." I sigh in defeat. That aside, I was just so happy for Pansy. Merlin knows she's been in love with this man since we arrived at Hogwarts.

———

Chapter 9

"Merlin, can't you connect the dots? And I thought they said you were smart."

~~~

October 31, 1996

"Can you fix my wings for me?" I ask Pansy, looking in the mirror at my costume.

Today was finally Halloween, the one day a year it's acceptable to dress up and be whoever the hell you want. It was my favorite holiday. My favorite time of year in general. Pansy and I always do some sort of matching costume; this year, we decided on angels. She was a classic white angel and I was the dark angel.

"Of course, babe," she says, coming up behind me and adjusting the feathers on my wings. She pulls away, admiring how we look together. A smile forms on my lips.

"We look hot." I say, letting out a soft laugh. Pansy agrees before turning around, grabbing a bottle of firewhiskey, and pouring us each a shot.

She hands me the shot glass, "To having a bloody good Halloween." she says, giving me a small smirk before lifting up her glass.

We do a cheers before downing the shots, the liquid burning my throat as it goes down. I shake my head as the whiskey goes down smooth. I take one last look in the mirror before deciding I was good. I wore a small black ruffled skirt paired with a long sleeve black lace top, and of course my wings and halo.

"Are we ready?" I ask, turning around to face her, an excited smile on my lips.

"More than ready, love, I'm already three shots in." she replies, giving me a cheeky smile in return. I roll my eyes playfully, grabbing her arm as we head downstairs to the common room. The air was thick, music blasted from all corners as the lights danced around. The room was packed already with dressed up students.

"Wanna go grab a drink?" I yell into her year to be heard over the music. She nods. I take Pansy's hand, leading through the crowd to the drink table. My eyes scan the crowd, looking for anyone we know.

I pour us each a shot as well as a mixed drink. Swiftly downing the shot, I began to feel the slight effect of the alcohol as it went down easier.

"Shots without me? Im hurt." I hear a voice behind me. Turning around, I face Theo, wrapping my arms around him as I give him a hug.

"Where the hell have you been, Theo?" I ask, pulling away from him as I take a big gulp from my drink. "You look fantastic by the way." His face was painted that of a skeleton, wearing just a black suit with a red undershirt, the top few buttons undone. He shrugs nonchalantly.

"I threw together what I could." he replies with a smirk, I roll my eyes playfully in return.

"Do know where Draco is?" Pansy asks, her eyes scanning the crowd.

"Last time I saw him he was over by the couches." Theo replies, pouring a drink for himself.

Pansy goes off to find Draco, leaving Theo and I. I finish the remainder of whatever was in my cup, handing it to Theo with a pleading smirk for him to refill it. He rolls his eyes, taking my cup and pouring me another one.

"You might wanna slow down there, Amora." he says, handing me the red solo cup.

"Theodore it's Halloween, it's the perfect time to get drunk." I say, taking a small sip from the new cup. "I'll slow down when I'm dead."

I feel the effects kicking in even more now. The music and lights giving me a rush of exhilaration as everything grew a bit fuzzy.

"Have you seen Miles?" I ask as we move to the side a bit.

"Bloody hell, you and your boyfriends. Can't be forgetting about us, now." Theo replies, placing a hand over his heart in a mocking way. I let out a laugh.

"How could I ever?" I say sarcastically. "But seriously, have you?"

"I saw a while ago over here by the bar, Merlin knows where he's at now." he shrugs. I frown slightly. Well that wasn't very helpful.

"I'm gonna go look for him. Don't miss me too much." I throw him a little wink before walking away. I push through the sea of bodies as I scan the faces I walk by, not finding him.

I spot Pansy on the dance floor, heading over in her direction, taking another sip from my cup as I approach her.

"You find Draco?" I ask.

"Yeah he's grabbing me another drink." she replies. "You find Miles?"

"Nope." I reply, frowning slightly as I take another drink.

"Well, who cares, lets dance!" she says, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer to her. I laugh at her, feeling just drunk enough to dance carelessly. I move my hips to the music, laughing along with Pansy.

I finished off my drink, tossing the empty cup aside, not really caring where it landed. I relished in the moment, dancing with Pansy. The air became thicker as bodies moved together, the lights flashed around the room. It made me get lost in my own little world. Even for just a moment. My senses grew fuzzy, a smile on my lips.

Eventually Draco came back and I decided to wander off, letting them dance themselves for a while. I continued my search for Miles. It was strange, he said he would meet me here. I stopped for a moment, peering around the crowd to even just see one of his friends.

I suddenly felt a presence behind me, standing a bit too close, but I assumed for a moment that it was Miles or Theo. Until I heard his voice.

"Looking for someone?" he whispers in my ear, sending a chill down my spine at his proximity. I could practically feel his breath on my skin, the smell of whiskey flooding my senses.

My body whipped around to face him.

"What do you want, Riddle." I say, crossing my arms over my chest. He wasn't dressed in any costume, not that I thought he would be anyways.

"What makes you think I want something?" he smirks, cocking his head slightly. I roll my eyes at him.

"If you don't want anything then why are you talking to me? We aren't friends. In fact, you've done a lovely job at avoiding me the last few weeks." I reply, with an unwavering confidence that I should not have when it comes to him.

He lets out a chuckle, his eyes darkening as he takes a step closer to me.

"You seem to be asking the wrong questions, witch." he says. I furrow my brows in confusion as I look up at him.

"What do you mean...?" I ask. Like I said before, why is this man so cryptic? Just tell me what the fuck you mean. I don't have time for this.

His smirk grows in a sadistic manner, his eyes looking me up and down. I roll my eyes at him, not patient enough for his games right now. His hand reaches my chin, tilting it up to force me to look at him.

"Shouldn't you be with your little boyfriend, hmm?" he says, his face growing closer to mine in a condescending fashion.

I let out a huff of frustration, trying to push his grip away from me, but to no avail.

"Well I'm looking for him. He said he'd meet me." I reply, my eyes fixed on his.

He looks away, letting out a chuckle before meeting my eyes once more. His grip on my chin tightening.

"You're so naive, witch. You know that right?" he sneers, that stupid cocky grin plastered on his face.

"You don't know me." I scoff, looking him up and down. "Will you just tell me what the fuck you're on about." Merlin. He's about to ruin my buzz.

He lowers his gaze at me, his expression growing dark as his hand trailing from my chin to the back of my neck, squeezing roughly. I let out a small groan at the pressure. That was sure going to leave a mark.

"How many times do I have to tell you to watch your tone with me. This is your last warning, witch." he spat. "Understand?"

All I could do was nod. It wasn't often I was at a loss for words, but Mattheo seemed to have a gift for it.

"Please just tell me." I say quietly.

I mentally cursed myself at how pathetic I sounded. This wasn't me. I was not going to be begging, especially to him. His lips curled up again, his cocky smirk returning. I just knew he was reveling in this.

"He was supposed to be here, what? An hour ago?" he says mockingly. "It's not shocking, really. The things that happen right under your nose."

"Mattheo, what are you trying to say?" I ask quietly, my eyes searching his. I furrow my brows in confusion.

He's not saying what I think he is, right? Miles wouldn't do that. He's not like that. Mattheo is trying to screw with my head. He wants to get a rise out of me.

"Merlin, can't you connect the dots?" he coos. "And I thought they said you were smart." He drops his grip on my neck, taking a small step away from me. My mind swirls with the possibilities.

"No." I say, shaking my head. "You're a liar." I spat, taking a step away from him as well.

He shrugs me off, pulling a box of cigarettes out of his pockets. It felt like I was watching in slow motion as he proceeded to place one between his lips, lighting the end of it and blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"Believe what you want, princess." he says, lowering his eyes at me as he takes another drag.

I let out a scoff, cursing him under my breath as I turn and walk away from him. My head spun. I don't know if it's the alcohol or the accusations. My heart pounded in my chest as I headed up the stairs to the boys dormitories. I wasn't thinking straight, my vision was clouded and my head was foggy. But I couldn't ignore the bundle of anxiety that grew in the pit of my stomach.

I reached his door. I close my eyes for a moment, bracing myself for the worst possible outcome. I couldn't hear anything over the loud music that blared in the common room. My hand reached the handle, turning slowly.

Locked.

That could mean anything. Right?

I reach down, pulling out my wand from the side of my boot. "Alohomora." I say quietly, hearing a small click. I put my wand away, my hand twisting the doorknob, pushing it open reluctantly.

Though nothing could have prepared me for the sight laid out in front of me. I felt my stomach twist in a sickening knot, my jaw falling open.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, soft moans falling out of his lips as his head tilted back with pleasure. The noise alone sent a disgusted chill down spine.

And there she was. On her knees. Like the bloody whore she is.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open, peering up at mine as his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. His face turned white, pulling her off of him.

"Wha- why'd you stop me." Astoria asks before noticing his gaze. She turns her head around, going pale.

I stood there for a moment as every single emotion washed over me at once. I couldn't find the words. I felt tears pool in my eyes as I watched her scramble to her feet, trying to find clothes to cover herself.

"Amora, please–" Miles starts, standing up as he hurries to slide his boxers back on.

"Don't." I say, taking a step back. "I don't want to hear whatever bullshit excuse you're about to make up."

He was at a loss for words, swallowing the lump in his throat. I shifted my focus back on Astoria, someone I had trusted and confided in so many times. My knees felt weak, like at any moment they were going to crumble, giving out under me.

"I– I swear, Amora, it's not what it looks like." she says quickly, walking closer to me.

"So you weren't just sucking his dick?" I snap, feeling a sudden rush of anger and betrayal flood my senses.

I shake my head, taking another few steps back in disbelief at the scene.

"How could I be so fucking stupid?" I scoff.

"Please, let me explain." Miles says, his arm reaching out to grab mine. I pull away from his grasp.

"Don't touch me." I snap. My chest felt heavy, my heart feeling like at any moment it would burst from my chest. "How long."

"Amora–" he starts, his eyes pleading with mine.

I know I didn't want the real answer. But I needed to hear it.

"Don't fucking lie to me. How. Long." I say, my eyes flickering between the two of them, my eyes brimming with hot tears. I did my best to hold it back, but I couldn't. Not now. Not here.

They exchange a look. I could see the guilt all over their faces. How could I have been so blind?

"Fuck.." I utter, shaking my head as I feel tears involuntarily fall down my cheeks.

"Amora, can we please talk about this?" Miles pleads. I let out a scoff.

"Talk about what? How you've been cheating on me with one of my best friends?" I say, raising my voice as I look up at him. "What the hell else is there to talk about?"

He couldn't even look me in the eyes. I look over at Astoria, her lips pursed as she stays silent, like a child who's being scolded.

"I never meant to hurt you." he says quietly.

I let out a laugh of disbelief, running a hand through my hair.

"Then why?" I seethe. "Why did you do it?"

I ignored the tears that ran down my cheeks. They were more of anger and shock rather than sadness.

"I–I don't know, okay? I'm not gonna have an answer to satisfy you." he says, throwing his arms up in frustration.

He had no right. Absolutely no right to be upset.

I scoff at his answer. Not gonna satisfy me? Just fucking say you couldn't keep it in your pants.

I turn to Astoria, my eyes searching hers before looking up and down at her half-naked frame. I shake my head in disbelief.

"How could you?" I say, my face contorting in a mix of frustration and hurt. "I would have never done this to you."

She bit the inside of her cheek, looking away from me. She couldn't even face me.

"What?" I somewhat shout at her. "You have nothing to say?"

Her eyes meet mine once again as she shakes her head softly.

"I'm so sorry, Amora." she says quietly.

"You're sorry?" I laugh, "Is that it?"

Tears begin to brim in her eyes, I let out a scoff. What the hell does she have to be upset about.

I felt my head spin, I couldn't be here any longer in that room. I felt physically ill.

"Well I hope it was worth it." I spat, turning on my heels as I walk out of his dorm, feeling a piece of my heart shatter.

My feet move too quickly, feeling my heart race in my chest as I wipe away my tear-stained cheeks, only for more to fall.

"Amora, wait!" I hear Miles voice following me.

Almost reaching the common room, the music reaches my ears once again, but I couldn't hear it. Not really. Miles arm reaches out for mine, spinning me around.

"Please, Amora, let me fix this. Let me fix us." he pleads, looking down at me. His expression was hard to read, his brows furrowed as his eyes were filled with something I couldn't quite distinguish.

I snatch my arm from his grip, "No," I say, shaking my head. "there is no fixing this. There is no 'us' anymore."

He falters for a moment, jaw hanging open slightly.

"Now if you have any respect left for me then please, leave." I say, my voice breaking.

He swallows the lump in his throat, clenching his jaw as looking around for a moment before turning and going back up to his dorm. I stand there for a moment, letting everything sink in. I turn around, nearing the common room where students were still partying.

As soon as he was out of shot, everything broke down, hitting me all at once. I let my back hit the wall as a sobs racked through my body, muffled through my hand that covered my mouth. Not that anyone could hear me anyways.

Hurt, betrayal, anger, and confusion swirled around in my head, fogging my senses. The pain in my chest becoming overwhelming as my hand grasped it, desperate for it to go away. I've never felt like this, so hurt by the people I though I was closest to.

How did he know?

The thought clung to the back of my mind. Thinking back, I see the signs. He's been warning me this entire time and I missed it, but how?

I got up from my spot against the wall, rounding the corner to the common room. My eyes searched the crowd for Pansy or Theo. I received a few concerned looks from other students. I wanted nothing more than to disappear. It wouldn't be long till everyone knew.

Disoriented, I pushed my way through the crowd with no avail. Suddenly, a hand grasped my wrist, turning me to face him.

"Theo," I choke out, my voice breaking.

His eyes meet mine, full of worry as his expression hardens. His hand reaches my jaw, tilting my face up to look at him.

"Amora, what happened." he says in a serious tone as his eyes examine my face.

My mouth opens, but no words come out. His thumb brushes a few stray tears away from my face. I shake my head, unable to get the words out. He takes my arm, leading me back towards my dorm.

He pushes the door open, ushering me inside. I suddenly felt like a burden, I didn't want to ruin his night like mine was. I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to gain composure.

"I'm sorry, I'm fine. You should go." I say, facing him.

"No, you're clearly not fine." he says quickly. "Was this Blecthley? I swear to Merlin, Amora, if he hurt you, I'll kill him."

His face turns dark, his fists balling at his sides. My hand grasps his in a desperate effort to calm him down.

"No, Theo, please don't do anything stupid." I breathe. He falters for a moment, expression softening for a brief moment before he clenches his jaw.

"So it was him?" he asks.

I bite the inside of my lip as my brows furrow. The whole scene kept replaying in my head in a constant loop, taunting me. My legs suddenly felt weak, as if at any moment I would simply collapse and never get back up.

"Amora..." he says quietly, taking a step closer to me. I felt my lip quiver, trying my best to keep my tears in, but he knew.

He wraps his arms around me in a tight, protective embrace. I wrap my arms behind his neck, burying my face in his neck as I let out every emotion that has been bubbling inside me. I couldn't even hear the comforting words he was whispering in my ear as I cried into his shoulder. His hand caressed my back as he comforted me.

We stayed like that for a while. It felt like time had moved in slow motion. Eventually I pulled away, looking up at him as I wiped away my tear stained cheeks.

"Please tell me what happened." he says softly.

I let out a sigh, closing my eyes for a moment as I still try to wrap my brain around it.

"I'm a bloody idiot, that's what happened." I scoff. "I couldn't even see that he was fucking one of my best friends."

I felt a surge of anger flow through me as the words rolled off my tongue like poison. My heart raced in chest at the mere thought of them together. This entire time.

"I was love bombed and humiliated and I found out from the one person in this castle that I cannot stand." I say, clenching my jaw as I look up to meet his gaze.

He was hard to read in this moment. I could tell he was trying to be sympathetic towards my situation, but I could see the rage building up inside him. He reaches down, thumb pressing against my cheek in a comforting manner.

"I'm so sorry, Amora. You didn't deserve that." he sighs, expression hardening.

I give him a sad smile in return. I didn't love Miles. I never did. But to be so clearly stabbed in the heart by someone you trusted hurts. It hurts more than any physical pain. Though, it wasn't just him, it was Astoria as well.

Astoria was a sweet girl, at least I thought, pretty as well; she could get any guy she wanted. But she had to pick him. She had to go for the one she couldn't have.

I didn't just lose my boyfriend; I lost one of my best friends.

———

Chapter 10

"I hate you."

~~~

After much convincing, Theo finally left my dorm. I didn't want to drag him down with me, so I made him return to the party, which was still going on.

I walked over to Pansy's trunk, pulling out the bottle of firewhiskey from earlier. Twisting off the lid, I take a swift drink. I closed my eyes for a moment as the liquid burned down my throat, reveling in it. I wanted answers.

I took another big drink before putting the bottle back. I checked my appearance in the mirror, fixing what I needed before leaving my dorm, feeling just drunk enough to keep myself composed. If you wanna call it that.

I walked straight through the common room, pushing my way towards the exit. I walked through the painting, slightly stumbling out of the common room as I walked the halls. Ignoring the stray couples kissing in the corridors, I headed up to the Astronomy Tower. I knew he'd be there.

It felt like an eternity as I climbed the endless stairs. I let out a breath of relief as I felt the cold air nip my skin, finally having reached the top. My hand grazed over the cold bricks as I turned the corner. There he was, sitting on the ground, his back against the stone with a half-empty bottle of whiskey next to him. A cigarette dangled loosely from his fingers, I watched silently as he took a drag.

"Care to join me? Or are you just going to keep staring, witch?" he suddenly says, a small cloud of smoke trailing out of his mouth as he spoke.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I stepped closer to him. My nails dug into my palms out of both fear and anger. I couldn't quite form the words so I stayed silent as I approached him.

"Why don't you take a fucking seat." he gestures across from him before looking up, his gaze finally meeting mine.

I sit on the ground across from him, my back hitting the cool metal bars of the tower, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin. I look over at him, the moonlight hitting my face, making my tear-stained cheeks more evident.

His eyes darken as they bore into mine, raking over my features. He pulls the cigarette back up to his lips, taking a long drag before puffing it out, the cloud of smoke covering his expression for a brief moment.

"How did you know?" I question him suddenly.

He lets out a chuckle at my question, shaking his head slightly. A few curls fall over his eyes as his gaze never leaves mine.

"What are you on about?" he asks, cocking his head slightly.

I roll my eyes, letting out a small sigh of frustration.

"Miles and Astoria." I spat. "You've known this entire time, haven't you?"

A small smirk forms on his lips as he listens, taking one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out, discarding it.

"Ah, yes." he says, blowing out the cloud of smoke. "Shame, isn't it."

I clench my jaw, trying to contain myself from doing something I might regret. I could sense that he was mocking me, he had absolutely no sympathy. Not that I should expect anything more.

"You're not answering my question. How did you know." I say, my voice unusually stern.

"I saw them." he shrugs, leaning against the stone brick behind him.

I could practically hear the smugness in his voice, like he was so happy to be the one to break the news to me. Which he had already done. I didn't know how to feel. Part of me is so angry in the fact that it was him who told me, yet the other part of me was almost grateful that I had found out, rather than things continuing behind my back.

I close my eyes for a moment, debating on if I want to ask this next question.

"When?" I ask quietly as I look over at him, his dark eyes staring right back at me.

His smirk grows, almost in a sinister manner, as he thinks for a moment.

"Well," he begins. "the first time was the night before your date."

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. This entire time, I was being played. A wave of nausea rushed over me as my stomach twisted in a knot. The worst part? He warned me. That night on the Astronomy Tower, he told me not to go. Merlin, I should have listened.

"Liar." I shake my head, tears threatening to pool my eyes.

He raises an eyebrow at me, expression hardening as his eyes scan over my face. I knew he wasn't lying, but there was a part of me that so desperately wanted to believe that this was all a lie, that this wasn't actually happening.

"I am many things, but I am not a liar." he snarls.

My heart raced in my chest as I stood up. I had gotten my answer, there was no reason to stay here and listen to him taunt me. I turn my back towards him, stumbling slightly as I move to leave.

He quickly grabbed my arm, turning my back around. He had gotten up as well, now standing over me as he pushed me against the cold stone wall, his hand snaking around my throat.

"You should really be thanking me, witch." he says tauntingly, his eyes scanning over my body.

I feel a chill run down my spine. My free wrist instinctively reaches up and wraps around his arm as he holds onto me. He gives my throat a small squeeze before releasing his grip. I take in a deep breath as he takes a step back.

"You think I owe you something?" I scoff. "What? Do you want a trophy?"

The anger that had been brewing inside me had finally bubbled over, causing me to snap. I knew better than to speak to him like this, but in this moment I didn't care.

He takes a step closer to me once again, clenching his jaw as his expression darkens. The look he was giving me in this moment was enough to send goosebumps down my body.

"The thing is, little witch," he began, his voice unusually calm "I don't want anything from you, not now anyways. But the fact still stands, I saved you." he says, his hand slightly caressing the side of my cheek.

I look back up at him, his frame standing over mine. I couldn't hide the fear in my eyes, my heart beating quick in my chest. He trails his hand down, his smirk returning as he feels my pulse.

He suddenly wraps his hand back around my throat, a small gasp escaping my lips as he gives me a little squeeze.

"Now why don't you be a good girl and say thank you." he says, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he peers down at me.

I stand still for a moment, unable to tear my gaze from his as he tilts his head slightly, waiting for my response.

"Thank you." I manage to say quietly. A satisfied grin grows on his lips as he releases his grip. I take in a sharp breath. I hated how pathetic I was, how vulnerable I was to him.

I knew he relished in the control he had over me. Like this was all a sick game to him.

"Was that so hard?" he coos mockingly.

I stay frozen in place, my back still firm against the wall of the tower. My eyes wander around the room, lingering on the view of the castle. What was I doing here?

I didn't have to come to him. I could have pieced things together myself and yet here I was, seeking him out. Even if I never admitted it, there was something about him that drew me in like a moth to a flame. I know who he is, what he has done, and yet I still find myself coming back.

My eyes wander back to his, looking at me expectantly.

"I hate you." I say quietly.

His smirk only seemed to grow as he tilted my chin up, forcing me to look up at him.

"Good." he says, looking down at me.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I close my eyes for a moment. By the time I opened them again, he was gone without a trace. I slumped against the wall I was leaning on, resting my head against the cold brick.

I wanted to disappear in that moment. Leave the dumpster fire that my life was turning into and simply just exist.

~~~

The morning light crept through the window of my dorm, causing a groan to escape my lips. My eyes swollen and my head pounding as I turned over, burying my face into my pillow. A subtle knock at my door made me stir in my sleep.

"Go away." I groan as I sink deeper into my bed, wanting nothing more than to rot there.

But of course, the door swings open anyways.

"I brought coffee." Theo says, closing the door behind him.

My head perks up, finally opening my eyes as I give him a tired smile. Theo takes that as an invitation as he comes over, sitting on the other side of my bed as he hands me the warm cup.

I sit up slightly, bringing the cup to my lips. The warm coffee soothes my throat, relishing the slightly bitter taste before setting the cup down next to me.

I look over at him, furrowing my brows slightly as I notice a fresh bruise along his cheekbone.

"What happened?" I ask, my thumb brushing against the sensitive flesh.

He winces slightly as I pull my hand away, waiting for an explanation.

"I told you I would kill him if he hurt you, Amora." he says, a serious look in his eye. "But I didn't fancy a lifetime in Azkaban, so I kicked his ass instead."

My face drops, letting out a small sigh as I turn my body, facing him.

"You didn't." I reply.

"Oh I did." he smirks back, proud of himself. "I mean you should bloody see him, I served you justice."

I let out a small chuckle. As angry and hurt as I was, I didn't want anything bad to happen to him, even if he deserved it. I hate it, but I will always still care for him.

"My hero." I say sarcastically.

The door creaks open once again, Pansy slipping through carefully. She turns around, jumping slightly as she spots Theo and I. She was in a baggy pair of sweats and a white button down, both of which I assume are Draco's.

"Merlin, you both scared me." she says, placing her hand over her heart.

I take another sip of my coffee as she comes over, sitting on the edge of my bed, joining Theo and I.

"Where did you sneak off to last night? I never saw you again after dancing." she frowns slightly.

I let out a small laugh even though I didn't find it funny in the slightest, setting the cup back down as I roll my tongue against my cheek nervously.

"Long story short, I got cheated on. Miles has been fucking Astoria this entire time and I have learned that I can't trust anyone. Except you two." I say simply.

Pansy's jaw flies open, her hand coming up to cover her mouth in disbelief.

"Oh and you want to know who told me? Mattheo fucking Riddle." I scoff.

She gives me a look of sympathy, leaning over the bed and giving me a small hug.

"Baby, I'm so sorry." she whispers in my ear.

She pulls back, furrowing her brows as she comprehends what I told her. I look over at Theo before leaning my head on his shoulder. He places a soft kiss on top of my head as I let out a sigh.

"How fucking dare she? How dare either of them." Pansy scoffs, her face scrunching up in anger. "To think we were her friends when she didn't have anyone else."

"Trust me, I know." I huff, sitting back up.

I run my fingers through my hair, my head feeling like it's about to explode. I rest my head against the wall as I lean back, my arms covering my face.

"Do you think anyone will stop me if I go jump off the Astronomy Tower." I utter.

Pansy slaps my leg, causing me to let out a small yelp.

"Amora Sinclair, stop that right now." she says, scolding me.

"I was just joking." I grumble.

"Don't worry, Pans, she won't get the chance, I'll be here all day in bed with her." Theo says, smirking slightly as he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

I let out a laugh, shaking my head.

"You dirty boy, who said I want you here." I say, shoving him lightly.

I take another long sip of coffee before setting it back down as the warm coffee seems to settle my head.

"Seriously, Amora, are you okay?" Pansy asks, grabbing my hand as I look over at her.

I send her a small smile, giving her hand a squeeze.

"I'm fine, really. I think I got it all out last night." I say. "But can we please go get breakfast, I'm starving."

She gives me a skeptical look in return.

"I don't think I believe you. But yes please, lets get breakfast." she says, a small grin growing on her lips.

~~~

"Merlin, you two take forever." Theo groans as we walk through the doors of the Great Hall.

We take our typical spot at the Slytherin table, the hall bustling with activity as students chatted amongst themselves. I take a seat, immediately filling my plate before pouring myself a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Perfection takes time, Theodore." Pansy teases as she fills up her plate as well.

"I had to shower and get last night's memories off of me." I say, shoving a piece of toast into my mouth.

We sit in silence for a while as we all eat. Nothing like a good meal to cure a hangover. I shove my plate aside as I finish, resting my head against my palm, lost in thought. My eyes scan the room before settling on him. His hair was messy, a large purple bruise littered near his eye with a matching cut on the opposite side.

I didn't realize I was staring until his gaze met mine, his expression immediately shifting. I swiftly look away, feeling a small pang in my chest as I felt his gaze burning into the side of my head.

"You okay?" Theo says, his voice laced with concern as he shifts his focus towards me.

"I'm fine." I reply, giving him a small smile.

There was no escaping him. As much as I loathe it, I'm going to see him around, so I might as well get used to it. Though, it wasn't him I was worried about, it was her.

Astoria's betrayal almost hurt worse. You never expect it from people like her. They act so kind and innocent to your face when really, they're standing with a knife behind their back.

"Are you sure? You don't look fine." Pansy adds, furrowing her brows in worry.

"Seriously, I'm fine. Can we just not talk about it?" I say, rubbing my temple.

Pansy gives me a sympathetic look in return. I take a sip of my pumpkin juice as I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

We eventually headed back up to my room, Pansy heading back to Draco's. I let out a sigh as I shut the door behind Theo and I. He went straight to my bed, plopping himself down as he propped his feet up, laying back against my pillows. I shake my head, letting out a soft laugh as I lay down on my side next to him, my body facing his.

He shifted his body to face mine, his eyes seemingly analyzing mine. We simply sit in silence for a moment before he speaks up.

"It's okay to be sad, you know." he says softly.

I bite the inside of my cheek as I faintly nod. Theodore was rarely every a sappy person, but I know he would do anything for me.

He shifts closer to me, as I do the same, leaning over and resting my head against his chest. He wraps his arms firmly around me, a sense of security coming over me. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as he held onto me. After a few minutes of silence I turned my gaze towards him.

"You know I love you, right?" I say quietly as I look up at him.

"I know, baby." he replied, slowly running his fingers through my hair in a comforting manor.

———

Chapter 11

"So why did you come to Hogwarts?"

~~~

"As a part of your midterm, I will be assigning a project to be completed by the end of the week." Snape's voice drawls on as he paces the front of the classroom. "I will assign each set of partners a particular advanced potion to successfully brew and create a full report on. Any questions?"

Small groans could be heard around the room as Snape discussed the upcoming project. He began passing out sheets of paper, assigning each pair with a potion to brew.

I glanced down at the paper he set in front of us, my heart stopping in my chest for a brief moment. Amortentia. I have to brew the most powerful love potion with Riddle.

I let out a small scoff as I passed the paper to my partner, his eyes scanning the sheet carefully as a small smirk grew on his lips.

"Well, little witch, I suppose I'll see you tonight, hmm?" he says, not waiting for my response as he grabs his things and leaves the class.

I let out a huff of frustration as I shoved the paper into my bag, throwing it over my shoulder as I headed out of the classroom.

"Which one did you get?" Theo asks as we exit the classroom, throwing his arm around my shoulder.

"Amortentia." I reply unenthusiastically.

Pansy pops up on my other side as we walk down the crowded corridors.

"Lucky, I got a stupid Laughing Potion." she frowns.

"Trust me, I would trade with you in a heartbeat." I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Theo lets out a small chuckle, pulling me closer to him.

"Amora gets Amortentia, it's got a ring to it, don't you think?" he adds.

I roll my eyes at him, giving him a little shove.

"Oh shut it." I reply.

It wasn't exactly the potion that bothered me, it was the fact that I had to do it with Mattheo. I didn't even know what to make of him at this point. Every single interaction we have makes my head spin.

"Well I got Essense of Insanity." he smirks.

"How perfect for you." I coo, ruffling his hair lightly.

I let out a laugh as he smacks my hand away.

~~~

I push the food on my plate around with my fork, not feeling particularly hungry. My stomach twisted in a bundle of nerves as I tuned out the chatting going on around me.

My eyes aimlessly wandered the Great Hall as my friends blabbered on about something that happened at Quidditch practice. That was until my gaze met Astoria's, her eyes burning into mine as I watched her excuse herself, heading in my direction.

I rolled my eyes, quickly throwing down my fork as I got up from my seat, swiftly walking out of the hall.

"Amora, wait!" she yells after me, trying to catch up.

I shake my head, walking faster through the corridors.

"Can we please just talk for a second?" she says, getting closer.

I stop in my tracks, closing my eyes for a moment as I take a deep breath before slowly turning around.

"Don't you think you've done enough?" I ask coldly.

I cross my arms over my chest, lowering my eyes at her. She steps closer to me, fidgeting with her sleeves nervously.

"Can you please just be mature about this right now?" she adds quietly, furrowing her brows at me.

I let out a loud scoff of disbelief, my eyes drifting for a moment to make sure we were alone. My hands balled up into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

"Me be mature?" I say, my voice echoing in the corridor. "Astoria you were fucking my boyfriend throughout the entirety of our relationship! And you expect me to just be okay with that and move on? Fuck you."

Her chest rises and falls quickly as she takes in my words, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Please, Amora, you have to know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you." she replies.

I roll my eyes at her, her words echoing in my mind. My eyes searched hers, finding some sense of sadness and regret, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

"Well you did." I spoke loudly. "Of all fucking people, I never expected it to be you."

She pursed her lips in a fine line, furrowing her brows. I could see students flooding out of the Great Hall to see what the commotion was about, trying to get their view of the latest school drama.

"I feel terrible, I never wanted things to end this way I swear." she says, as if it excuses the things she had done.

I shake my head slightly, taking in a deep breath as I attempt to keep my composure.

"Then why did you do it?" I ask, my voice almost pleading for some sort of explanation.

I needed there to be a reason, something to blame. I refused to believe she would do it out of malice.

The crowd had now moved closer. It was embarrassing, almost. Being watched like it was some sort of entertaining show on a television. She rolled her tongue against her cheek as she thought for a moment.

"It wasn't supposed to happen it just–" she pauses for a moment, "did. I needed someone to talk to and he was there for me. You weren't."

I let out another scoff, not believing the bullshit that was coming out of her mouth. Her eyes now scanned the growing crowd, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

"So it's my fault, huh?" I say, "Don't act like I was never there for you because I was. In fact, I let you stay at my home for a month last summer because you were fighting with your parents again. But right, I'm the bad friend."

She shakes her head in return, tears welling in her eyes. She was about to say something but I cut her off.

"Just– save it. I'm done, with you, with everything." I add, throwing my arms down as I turn away.

I push past the crowd of people that had formed as I make my way down the corridor, ignoring the whispers of gossip. I brush them all off, they have nothing better to do than create false narratives of what they think is going on.

I head to the library to cool off, brushing away a few stray tears that had involuntarily fallen. I head to the potions section, thinking I might as well get a head start on the project. My hand trails the spines of the books as I search for a particular one. My eyes scan each name before settling on one about Amortentia.

I took a seat at a desk, flipping through the pages as my eyes briefly scanned the contents. I let out a small sigh as I close the book, checking the time before deciding to head up to the Astronomy Tower.

I took slow steps through the corridors as I let my mind spiral in a million different directions. I was trying to get over everything that had happened, but every time I saw Miles or Astoria it felt as if someone ripped the scab off the wound. And it stung. Maybe more than I cared to admit.

I clutched the book tightly against my chest as I took careful steps up the tower. I let out a deep breath as I finally reached the top of the somewhat endless staircase.

I took cautious steps as I rounded the corner, being met with the cold air of the night. Just as I expected, Mattheo Riddle leaning over the railing of the tower. I walked closer to him, his gaze carefully admiring the view in the distance as a few loose curls covered his forehead.

It was almost as if this was becoming our spot, having had too many unplanned encounters in this very spot. If I needed him, I knew where to find him.

My eyes seemed to have lingered on him for too long, carefully examining his highlighted features in the soft glow of the moonlight. My eyes followed the faint scar that slashed through his eye, trailing down his cheek.

He was attractive, and he sure as hell knew it. There was a certain level of confidence that he carried, an 'I don't give a fuck' attitude that you could practically feel in the atmosphere around him. But there's an aura of darkness and danger that follows him. I know I should be frightened, but for some reason I feel drawn in, as if I can't help myself.

"I'm starting to think you have a staring problem, witch." he suddenly speaks up, breaking me out of my trance.

I clear my throat, slightly embarrassed. He finally turns his gaze towards me, turning around as he leans his back against the railing.

"I figured we'd work on the project." I say, still holding the book against my chest.

My eyes meet his, sending a small chill down my spine. A faint grin grows on his lips as he pushes himself off the railing.

"Right, the project." he taunts.

He takes a step closer to me, my pride seeming to falter with a simple look.

"You know I saw your little scene in the hall," he begins.

I roll my eyes at him "I think just about everyone in Hogwarts saw." I huff, interrupting him.

"You should really stay away from them. People like that don't deserve your attention." he says, reaching down and tilting my chin up to look at him.

He lowers his eyes at me, as if he were examining my features. "They don't deserve your tears." he adds.

My mouth falls open slightly, but no words come out. It was as if I had found a small crack in his usual rough and aggressive exterior, finding a small lick of humanity in him. I shake away the thought, considering who it was I was speaking to.

There was always a double meaning behind everything his says, using his manipulation tactics to mess with people. The only thing I can't seem to figure out is why. Why is he here, why does he do the things he does.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I look up at him, he cocks his head, waiting for a response.

"I really don't think it's any of your business." I reply.

He lets out a small chuckle before releasing his grip, his eyes circling the room before meeting mine once again.

"Perhaps I'm making it my business." he says, a sinister smirk growing on his lips. "But don't mistake this as sympathy. If anything I pity you and your pathetic need to feel loved and needed. It's all a joke, really."

I roll my eyes, biting the inside of my cheek as I attempt to hold my tongue. As soon as you believe you see a small hint of goodness, there he goes again with his condescending comments as if he knows anything about me.

"Didn't know you were capable of any human emotions." I snap back.

His expression only seems to grow as he listens to my words, rolling his tongue against his cheek as his eyes trail over me, looking me up and down.

"There is very little I tolerate, little witch," he begins. "I do not feel love, I do not feel empathy, I do not feel fear." he cocks his head slightly.

I take in his words, but I refuse to believe them. As cheesy as it may sound, a life without love is too depressing of a reality.

I know Riddle's reputation, I've heard the horrid rumors, but I do not believe that his reputation is all that he is.

"Ironic, then, that we're here to brew a love potion." I say.

He doesn't reply, instead just rolling his eyes before stepping away, beginning to slowly pace the tower.

"Speaking of which, we should get started." I say, setting the book on the ground as I take a seat next to it.

I open the book, my eyes read lightly over the text. Mattheo leans against the railing, pulling out a box of cigarettes. He places one between his lips, lighting the end before blowing out a small puff of smoke.

I scan over the words of the book, not fully reading as my mind wanders other places. I feel his eyes burning into me as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

"Who's the one with the staring problem?" I say quietly as I continue reading.

He lets out a small laugh, blowing out a cloud of smoke before slowly stepping over, taking a seat on the ground across from me.

"You've got quite a mouth on you, don't you, witch?" he taunts as he leans against the brick wall.

I finally look up from the book, my eyes meeting his. He takes another long drag before stubbing it out on the ground next to him, discarding it.

The smell of cigarettes and nicotine flood my senses as he blows out the cloud of smoke in my direction.

"What can I say, it tends to come out when in the presence of assholes." I reply.

His eyes darken, boring into my own. He clenches his jaw as he thinks for a moment.

A small sense of regret washes over me as his gaze burns into me. I don't know why I constantly put myself in this situation, but sometimes I simply can't help but to mouth off. I won't tolerate his disrespect, even if it puts me in a vulnerable position.

"Ms. Sinclair, you never seem to learn, do you?" he asks, a dangerous glint in his voice.

He shakes his head slightly as I purse my lips in a fine line, trying not to say anything else that may set him off on a torrent that I do not wish to be the victim of.

"Nothing to say? Have I rendered you speechless, Ms. Sinclair?" he cocks.

I mentally roll my eyes as I look over at him. I take in a sharp breath before speaking up.

"I simply have nothing to say to you anymore." I say.

A laugh escaped his lips, deep and guttural as he rolled his tongue against his cheek as he studied me.

There was something about the way he looked at me that sends a chill down my spine. The sinister, almost evil, twinkle in his deep brown eyes.

"You are something else, aren't you, witch?" he mutters, as if speaking to himself.

I take in a deep breath as I turn my attention back to the book in my hands, flipping through the pages.

He snatches the book from my grip as I let out a small scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. He cocks a brow as his eyes scan over the page I was reading before closing it and tossing it aside.

"What the hell was that for?" I ask.

"I can tell you anything you want to know about that potion." he shrugs.

I peer at him curiously as I lean back against the cold stone.

"Why do you know so much about Amortentia?" I question.

The truth was that Mattheo is actually fairly smart, but he never puts enough effort in school. Hell, he barely shows up enough to somehow pass. But I found it peculiar that he knows a lot about this specific potion, especially considering it's a love potion.

He stayed silent for a moment, studying me as if he was debating his next words.

"My mother used it on my father when she had me." he says. "It creates powerful obsession and infatuation, but it can never replicate real love, which is why I am incapable of it."

I furrow my brows as I look over at him, surprised that he had just told me even a sliver of his past. Especially something so personal.

"Why did she do it?" I ask quietly, careful of not crossing any boundaries.

A small smirk grows on his lips at my question.

"She was in love with my father, but she was not who he truly wanted." he replies.

I don't reply, not exactly knowing or wanting to pry any further about his past. He holds his gaze on me for a moment before breaking it, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a perfectly rolled joint.

"You mind?" he gestures, holding the joint between his fingers.

"Not if you share." I say, giving him a cheeky smile.

He rolls his eyes as he holds the joint between his lips, lighting the end before taking a hit, the smell of marijuana filling my senses as he blows out a small cloud of smoke.

He takes one more hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs and holding it there as he passes me the joint. I smirk in triumph as I take the joint from him, taking a hit off it myself.

The smoke fills my lungs, burning slightly as I breathe out.

"You smoke a lot, you know that?" I say before bringing the joint back up to my lips.

"We all have our ways of getting through the day." he says, "Not that it's any of your business anyways."

"Maybe I'm making it my business." I reply in a mocking tone of his previous comment as I blow out the cloud of smoke.

He rolls his eyes at me as I pass it back to him, the effects of the weed slowly beginning to cloud my senses.

He brings the joint back up to his pouty lips, taking a deep hit.

"Or maybe I'm just worried for your lungs." I add, laughing softly as he blows the cloud of smoke towards me.

He narrows his eyes at me, a few curls falling over his features.

"Careful, witch, or I might begin to think that you care." he taunts as he takes another drag.

I take the joint from him once again, taking a long hit as I lock eyes with him.

"Definitely not that." I say, a smile lingering on my lips as I puff out the smoke.

Never did I think I would be here, sitting on the Astronomy Tower while smoking pot with a man I claim to hate. It was strange, really, sort of seeing a different side of him. Not that this side was much better than his typical self, but when he wasn't an absolute dick he could be tolerable.

We passed the joint back and forth until it was nothing more than the roach. I laughed softly at the situation, the effects of the weed taking over my system.

"You know, Riddle, it feels like I know absolutely nothing about you and yet you know so much about me. Like you're my stalker." I say, teasing him slightly as I lean over the railing.

My eyes scan the outline of the castle in the distance before turning my head to look at him. He peers back at me, a small smirk lingering on his lips as he cocks his head at me.

"What do you want to know?" he asks, his back resting against the railing.

"Are you going to be honest?" I question.

"Depends on the question." he shoots back.

I purse my lips for a moment, thoughts swirling around in my brain. My eyes trailed from the scar that ran through his eye down to his chest. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, the moon shining enough light to see more faint scars scattered across his chest.

I looked back up at him as he raised a brow at me expectantly, making me laugh softly.

"What happened to your eye?" I ask.

He rolls his tongue against his teeth as he looks at me for a moment.

"It was my roommate at the boys home I grew up in. Made a lot of enemies and paid the price." he says, his eyes now fixed on the mountains ahead of us. "But I got my revenge."

I bit the inside of my cheek as I glance up at him, my senses hazy. Even in my intoxicated state, I was surprised at his confession.

"I'm sorry you grew up like that." I reply with sincerity in my voice.

His eyes meet for a moment as he takes in my words, an unusually calm expression on his face as he nods faintly.

"I don't need your sympathy." he says in a rather cold tone.

I brush him off, a small smile returning to my face. My hands grip the railing as I lean backwards for a moment before pulling myself back up.

"Oh forgive me for a having some compassion." I joke.

He rolls his eyes at me, a smirk growing on his lips as he watched me.

"So why did you come to Hogwarts?" I question, cocking my head slightly.

It was a simple question that had lingered in my mind since the moment he got here. It was very clear that he did not want to be here, so there must be a motive behind it. I was almost afraid to ask, considering the answer probably had something to do with some plan for his father.

His eyes grew dark as he lowers his gaze at me, sending a cold shiver down my spine.

"To kill you." he states firmly.

My heart dropped to my stomach as I look up at him, my throat going dry. His words rang over and over in my head, not quite settling in as it felt like I had just been hit with a ton of bricks.

"You're lying." I scoff.

He steps closer to me, my heart hammering in my chest as my body feels frozen, unable to move a muscle.

"Am I?" he taunts, peering down at me with a sinister expression written on his face that made my stomach churn.

"You're a sick man, Riddle." I spat, turning away to leave.

He grabs my arm, roughly spinning me back around to face him. A sense of danger floods my system, the look on his face telling me he's not lying.

"If I'm lying then how do I know that your father died when you were seven? A nasty curse that was." he says, a slight mocking tone as he holds his gaze on me.

I feel sick to stomach, my face contorting in horror.

"Don't fucking go there. You don't know anything." I snap at him.

His smirk only grows at my anger and discomfort, his other hand reaching up and grasping the back of my neck.

I seemed to have made the mistake of underestimating him.

"Your mother never told you, did she?" he cocks, giving my neck a small squeeze.

My head spins with both the pressure against my neck and the information he was telling me. It felt like reopening an old wound, except this time I would bleed out into nothing.

I shake my head slightly, unable to tear my gaze from his. My breath was shallow in my chest.

"Tell me what?" I choke.

He lets out a small chuckle deep from his chest.

"Seven years was the amount of time your mother had Voldemort wrapped around her finger. My father was a fool for ever letting her under his skin." he sneers. "But in the end she betrayed him, abandoning him and instead choosing your father. Voldemort retaliated by placing a curse on your father, that after seven years he would die a slow, excruciating death; giving your mother enough time to love and care for him before having it all ripped away, just like he did."

His words spun in my mind, feeling a mix of emotions rise in my chest.

"Now he wants you dead. As a final piece of revenge against your mother before he eventually kills her too." he coos.

It felt as if my heart could burst from my chest at any moment. My mouth falls open slightly, but no words come out, my eyebrows drawing together as I look up at him.

He releases his grip from my neck, but before I could react he roughly pushes me up against the wall, a small gasp escaping my lips as I come in contact with the cold stone.

He presses his wand against my throat, fear running through my veins.

This is it. This is my end.

He leans closer, my lip quivering slightly as my body is frozen in place, unable to fight back or run. He digs his wand further into my neck as I let out a small hiss of pain.

"Shhh." he whispers menacingly in my ear. "I'm not gonna kill you, not yet."

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping if I don't look long enough everything will disappear.

I feel him back away, releasing his wand from my neck. I open my eyes to find him gone, a wave of relief washing over me as I lean my head against the stone.

———

Chapter 12

"Well, sweetheart, I never claimed to be a saint."

~~~

I didn't sleep at all that night, tossing and turning as his words rang through my mind repeatedly. I truly didn't want to believe him, but he knew too much to be lying. And it fucking hurts. Not only to hear the truth, but to learn that Mattheo and his father have pretty much plotted my death.

Before I knew it, my alarm began to sound, sunlight slowly creeping in through the windows. I let out a loud groan as I turned over, desperately hitting the alarm to get it to stop ringing.

"Amora, darling, it's time to get up." Pansy's voice making me stir.

I turn towards her, dark circles evident under my eyes as a result of my restless night.

"Pans, I really don't feel good." I groan, resting my head against my pillow.

She looks down at me with a worried expression, immediately coming over and sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asks.

"I'm just exhausted." I reply, running a hand through my hair.

She gives me that 'don't bullshit me' look in return.

"I swear I'm fine, I just need to rest." I say.

She gives me a half skeptical-worried look before reluctantly agreeing and leaving for breakfast. That was one thing I loved about Pansy. She would drop anything she was doing if I needed her.

I let out a sigh as I turn over in bed, my sleeplessness beginning to creep up on me. My eyes feel heavier as I feel myself drift off.

After what felt like only a few minutes, small creek in the floorboards startles me, my eyes snapping open. My breath feels shallow in my chest, on high alert.

I sit up in my bed, resting my head against my headboard. I turn over slightly, a startling yelp escaping my lips as none other than Mattheo Riddle steps closer. I move as far as I can away from him on my bed as he stands there, observing me.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I shout at him, but he doesn't flinch.

"Shhh. Not yet." he replies softly, bringing a finger to his lips.

My heart beats faster in my chest. I tear my gaze away from him, turning to the other side as I notice someone else.

"Mom?" I say, furrowing my brows in confusion.

She steps over to me, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"It's gonna be alright, Amora. I promise." She replies, placing a hand on my knee.

My eyes snap open, suddenly returning to reality as I jump up. I press my hand against my chest, trying to sooth my rapid heart as I sit up in bed.

It was just a dream.

Just. A. Dream.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as I slowly sink back down. I lay there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling as I think.

I don't know what the dream meant, but it left me with a terrible feeling in my gut. It was strange, I've had vivid dreams before, but this one felt so real. Nothing made sense to me anymore.

I let out a sigh as I get up, finally getting ready for the day. I examine my reflection in the mirror, the sleep depravation obvious on my features. I cover up the evidence with a bit of concealer and my usual eyeliner and mascara.

I sit down at my desk, deciding to write a letter to my mother. I needed to know the truth. I left out any part about Mattheo, as I didn't want her to worry about me. I set my quill down, folding the parchment and fitting it into a small envelope.

I leave my dorm, heading towards the Owlery. I shiver slightly, the cold autumn air nips at my skin as I make my way towards the West Tower. I walk quickly, not exactly wanting to be wandering the castle alone right now. But maybe I was just a bit paranoid.

I take careful steps up the tower, looking up and meeting the eyes of a man I did not want to see.

"Amora, hey." Miles says.

I roll my eyes at him, pushing past him as I reach the top of the Owlery. I reach up to a tawny owl as it grasps my letter in its beak before turning and flying away.

"Please, princess, can you just give me a chance to explain myself?" he asks.

"Don't call me that." I scoff. "You've lost that right."

He walks up the last step, looking down at me with a guilty expression.

"Now tell me, what is there exactly to explain? How you betrayed my trust? How you've been screwing one of my best friends? How you've been lying to my face during the entirety of our relationship?" I huff in disbelief. "Shall I go on?"

He clenches his jaw, looking down slightly as he shakes his head. I bite the inside of my cheek, holding in another scoff.

"I know." he says. "I know I fucked up, I never, ever meant to hurt you. And for that I'm so sorry."

I let out a small laugh. It sounded just like the bullshit Astoria spewed at me. But that's all it was. Bullshit.

"Are you sorry you did it? Or are you sorry you got caught?" I ask, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

"I'm serious, Amora." he sighs.

I shake my head as I look up at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What do you want me to do with that, Miles? You expect me to forgive you?" I ask. "Because I can't. Not now."

"I don't expect you to." he says, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I just feel so guilty about everything."

I purse my lips in a line, my mind running in so many different directions as I stay silent.

"Please believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you like this." he pleads, his hand reaching down and lightly caressing the side of my cheek.

I turn my head away from his grasp, fighting off the tears that threatened to fall down my cheeks.

"I wish I could, but I can't." I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I'm never going to understand why you did it and I don't know if I will ever be ready to forgive you."

He nods, dropping his hand as I meet his gaze.

"Now please, if you care about me as you say you do, then please don't talk to me, don't write to me, and do not utter my name to anyone. I do not want to hear from you." I add, clenching my jaw as I try and keep my composure calm.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes flickering between mine as he stays silent for a moment.

"Just know that I'm always here, Amora." he replies, giving me a sad smile before turning away, walking back towards the castle.

I let out a breath as he leaves, fighting away urge to cry. I'm sick of crying. The last few days have been nothing but a roller coaster of emotions.

I sit on the top step of the Owlery for a few minutes, gathering my thoughts before heading back towards the castle as well. It was just about noon, so I decided to go to the Great Hall as I knew everyone would be there for lunch.

I walked through the huge doors to the bustling hall, filled with chatting as students ate and talked. I find my friends, taking a seat next to them in our usual spot.

"So, what have I missed?" I ask as I sit down next to Theo.

Theo wraps his arm around me as I rest my head on his shoulder for a brief moment before pouring myself a cup of coffee. I wasn't particularly hungry but I could definitely use some caffeine.

"We were just talking about how Blaise over here has been shagging Luna Lovegood." Theo replies.

"Blaise!" I gasp in excitement. "Oh I always knew you guys would be cute together."

Blaise rolls his eyes.

"Oh shut it, Theo. I told you we hooked up once." he says, taking a bite of his chicken.

"Well regardless, she's a cutie and I think she would be good for you." I add, taking a sip of my coffee.

"Thank you, Amora, for being one of the only sane people at this table." Blaise replies.

I let out a small laugh, shooting him a wink as I take another sip of coffee.

"Anyways, Amora are you feeling better?" Pansy asks, peering over at me.

Draco's arm was wrapped around her shoulder as they sat on the other side of the table.

"Yeah, a bit, thanks Pans." I reply, giving her a small smile.

Technically I wasn't lying, I did feel a bit better than I did this morning, but the same uneasiness about everything still lingered inside me. I tried my best not to think about it, but Riddle's words still rang in the back of my mind. It was more than likely that I wouldn't go to class the rest of the day, still not feeling up to it.

Theo looked over at me, giving me a worried expression. I shrugged him off, giving him that 'I'll tell you later' look. I still hadn't really told Pansy what had happened, but she could tell something was off. I will tell her some of it, but I think I'll keep the full story to myself.

Lunch went by per usual, I walked with them out of the hall and we went our separate ways, but Theo stayed behind with me.

"You don't have to stay with me, I'm fine. You can go to class." I say, looking over at him as we walked back towards the Slytherin Common Room.

"Well I don't believe you and I don't mind skipping." he replies.

I playfully roll my eyes at him in return. He slings his arm around my shoulder as we walk.

Theo swings the door open to his dorm as I push my way past, immediately plopping down on his bed.

"Comfortable are you?" Theo teased as he closes the door.

"Mhm." I hum as I rest my head against his pillow.

He tosses his book bag aside on the floor as he comes over, laying down next to me. I turn over to face him as he is propped up on his elbow, facing me.

"So are you gonna tell me what's really going on?" he questions.

My eyes meet his for a moment as I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking for a moment.

"Well I ran out of Muggle weed for starters." I reply.

He rolls his eyes at my comment, cocking his head to the side.

"Amora I'm serious. Tell me what's wrong." Theo says.

I let out a sigh, turning so I'm laying on my back, staring at the ceiling.

"I found out the real reason why my father died." I say, taking a deep breath. "It wasn't a blood curse. It was a curse specifically put on him by the Dark Lord."

Theo furrows his brows as he listens to me, gently running his fingers through my hair.

I've known Theo practically since birth, as our mothers were best friends. Just a few months before my father died, Theo's mother had died in a tragic magic-related accident. I'm not exactly sure what happened, as he never shared the details but I know he witnessed it. It had been a shared loss, Cressida Nott was like a second mother to me.

As dark as it may seem, our grief of each of our parents brought us even closer together. It felt as if he was the only one who could understand what I was going through, the only one who could really understand me.

After their deaths, my mother and his father began to grow estranged. Theo's father was a Death Eater, a follower of Voldemort. My mother always detested blood supremacy and every belief that went along with it. Though now everything is falling into place as to why.

"Amora, I'm so sorry." he lowers his voice.

I close my eyes for a moment, a stray tear rolling down my cheek as I take in a sharp breath.

"It hurts, ya know?" I say, opening my eyes as I wipe away at my cheeks. "To be lied to. Especially about this."

"I know, baby." he says, shifting closer to me as he wraps his arms around me.

"I never really got closure. But this isn't what I wanted." I say, laying my head against his chest.

I feel comfort in his embrace, my eyes fluttering closed as my body relaxes. He whispers something else to me, but I don't hear it as I begin to drift off.

~~~

"Fucking hell." I groan as I sit up, stretching my arms.

"Morning, gorgeous." Theo teases.

I shoot him a playful glare as he gets up, stretching out his limbs before walking over to his desk.

"Merlin, how long was I asleep for." I yawn, rubbing my face.

"About 3 hours." He replies, turning back towards me.

I let out a sigh, swinging my legs to dangle off the side of the bed as I sit there.

Suddenly, a rather large barn own swoops near the window of Theo's dorm, turning both of our attentions. He walks over, unlatching the window as the bird drops a letter into his hands.

It can't be my mother already.

Theo examines the envelope as the bird flies sway. He shuts the window before tearing open the seal, quickly skimming over the contents. He rolls his eyes, crushing the paper into a small ball. I look at him curiously.

"Who's that?" I ask as he tosses the paper ball into the bin.

"My father, being awfully persistent lately." he huffs, clenching his jaw.

I give him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Theo." I reply, peering over at him.

His father was not a good man. Clearly since he's a follower of Voldemort. I know anything linked to his father means nothing good for Theo.

"It's fine. Maybe if I ignore him long enough he'll drop it." he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Wishful thinking?" I add, he lets out a small chuckle.

He leans against the desk, his hands grazing the edge of it. I take in a deep breath as I get up from his bed.

"Thank you for staying with me today." I say, sincerity in my voice.

"No need to thank me, sweetheart. I'm here for you always, Amora." he replies, pushing himself off the desk as he walks over to me.

I wrap my arms behind his neck, bringing him into an embrace. He wraps his arms around me for a moment before we both pull away.

"I think I'm gonna head over to the Library; maybe try and get something done today." I sigh, looking up at him.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I can be a great study partner." he smirks.

I let out a small laugh, rolling my eyes playfully.

"Definitely not. Last time I almost ended up failing my Transfiguration exam." I reply.

"Suit yourself." he shrugs. "But I still think McGonagall had it out for us."

I say goodbye to Theo before leaving his dorm and heading back to my own to grab my book bag. Pansy was no where to be seen when I entered, most likely with Draco or Blaise.

I grabbed my bag and the book I took about Amortentia. I figure I might as well work on the project and return the book. I leave my dorm, quickly heading down to the Library.

I find a spot at a desk away from anyone else, not really feeling like being around other people right now. Grabbing a piece of parchment, I begin writing all about the various properties, effects, and history behind Amortentia.

My quill works diligently against the parchment, writing out a well-spoken short essay about the potion. I finish rather quickly. I leave a small bit of space at the bottom to later report on the brewing process, which I have not done yet. Unfortunately, I will probably actually have to work with Riddle on that part.

I snap the book closed, leaving my things at my table as I make my way back towards to potions books. My hand lightly grazes against the spines of the books as I try and find it's rightful spot. I shove the book between one about the Ageing Potion and an Anti-paralysis Potion.

"Should've known I'd find you here, witch." I hear a voice behind me.

Speak of the bloody devil himself.

My blood runs cold, stopping in my tracks. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"What do you want, Riddle?" I ask.

My voice was calm, stern even. I didn't want to show him how much I feared him in this very moment.

"Oh I don't know." I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Have any strange dreams recently?"

My stomach drops at his words. I should have known. I turn around, my back against the bookshelf as I look up at him.

"Excuse me?" I question.

He takes a step closer to me as I suddenly feel so small.

"You heard me, witch." he replies, a smirk still lingering on his lips.

"You got into my head, didn't you?" I scoff.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head for a moment. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind spinning at the thought of him sneaking into my dorm while I was asleep.

"Maybe I did." Mattheo shrugs.

What the fuck is his problem?

"Get the fuck away from me you psycho." I snap.

I try to shove him away from me but he grasps my wrist tightly. I fight against him for a moment before letting out a huff in defeat.

"You make is so easy to get in that little head of yours." he says, cocking his head slightly as he looks down at me.

I roll my eyes, his gaze enough to make me squirm.

"Stay out of my head." I clench my jaw as I glare at him.

His smirk only grows as he feels the frustration radiating off me. He rolls his tongue against his cheek, thinking for a moment.

"Oh but where's the fun in that?" he taunts. "Why don't I make you a deal, witch? I'll teach you Occlumency; keep unwanted people from seeing your pretty little thoughts."

He peers down at me, dropping one of my wrists as he trails his finger along my jaw.

"Why should I trust you?" I scoff.

"Because I'm the only one who can help you." he says, his eyes darkening.

How ironic.

"Of a problem you created?" I question, snapping back.

He lets out a small chuckle, lowering his gaze at me.

"Well, sweetheart, I never claimed to be a saint." he says, gripping my chin roughly.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I look up at him. I don't think I've ever been more confused by a man in my entire life.

"Fine." I reluctantly agree.

"Good girl." he taunts, releasing his grip.

I let out a small sigh of relief as he takes a step back.

"I'll see you tomorrow, witch." he adds before turning and leaving.

I run a hand through my hair as I stay against the bookshelf for a moment, gathering my thoughts. Honestly at this point I shouldn't be surprised, yet whenever I think I have Mattheo figured out, he throws something else at me.

~~~

The next morning I awoke with a rather persistent headache, possibly a result of the unwanted intrusion of my private thoughts. I couldn't afford to miss another day of classes, so I popped some pain meds and got ready for the day.

I had explained everything to Pansy in the same manner I told Theo last night. I felt somewhat guilty about not telling them the whole truth, but some things are better kept as secrets. I simply had a gut feeling that this was something I had to fight by myself.

"Okay, I'm ready." I say, having just finished perfecting my eyeliner.

"Thank Merlin, I'm starving." Pansy grumbles, grabbing her book bag.

I laugh softly, grabbing my own bag before we head down towards the common room. We walk down the staircase, the boys waiting at the bottom for us.

"Remind me why we wait so bloody long for you two?" Blaise says sarcastically.

Looks like everyones a bit sassy this morning.

"Because you love us so dearly." I give him a small smirk.

"You all would truly be lost without our presence." Pansy adds, Draco wrapping an arm around her waist as we begin walking down to the Great Hall.

We take our spot at the Slytherin table, which was lined with eggs, bacon, sausages, toast, and just about any pastry you could think of. I immediately fill my cup with a fresh pot of coffee before scooping some eggs, bacon, and a muffin onto my plate.

"You know, Amora, drinking all that coffee is not good for you." Theo says, taking a bite from his plate.

I jokingly roll my eyes at him as I peel the paper off my muffin.

"Says the one with a smoking addiction." I reply, jabbing him lightly with my elbow.

He lets out a scoff in return. Knowing Theo, he is about to go on a tangent about how it's not an addiction and he only does it to relieve stress.

"She got you there, mate, don't even start." Draco interjects. Theo throws his hands up in defeat.

Just then, the owls come flying into the Hall, dropping parcels and letters to the respective students. I watch carefully, keeping an eye out for the tawny owl I had sent for my mother. As if on cue, the owl flies in, dropping a letter right in front of me.

The large wax seal with a 'S' emblem of our family crest stuck out. I turn the letter over, my name written out in my mother's perfect handwriting. I excuse myself from the table to read it, taking a seat on a bench just outside of the Great Hall as I rip the letter open.

Amora,

Honey I am so incredibly sorry, I never intended for you to find out this way. At the time your father passed, he made me promise to keep the truth from you to protect you. I was only doing as he wished.

The guilt has weighed heavily on me, I put my trust in an evil, vengeful man. It was my mistakes that cost your father his life and I am forever punished to carry that with me.

I hope you can find it in you to forgive me. You're all I have, Amora. We can talk more when you come home for break next month.

Much love,

Fiona Sinclair.

I clutched the letter against my chest as I finished reading. I didn't blame her; I couldn't. If anything it shocks me that my mother was ever with the Dark Lord. Though it still stings, to find out the brutal truth of an already hard situation, especially all these years later.

I fold up the letter, tucking it into my robes as I walk back into the Great Hall. I take back my seat, grabbing my cup and taking a large sip of coffee.

"You okay?" Pansy asks me, the boys talking amongst themselves.

"I'm fine, swear." I reply, giving her a small but reassuring smile.

Truth be told, I was exhausted. The last few days have been filled with nothing but an absolute train wreck of emotions. Between being cheated on and getting told that the man who killed my father wants me dead as well, I didn't know how else to move on other than to ignore it all entirely. Might not be the best way to cope, but it's the only way I can get on with my life.

———

Chapter 13

"Legilimens."

~~~

The rest of the day went by painfully slow, dreading my impending meeting with Mattheo. Personally, I planned to ignore him for the rest of eternity, but no. He had to find yet another way to intertwine himself in my life. Any other girl in Hogwarts would die for that opportunity, but they didn't know what I did.

After dinner, Pansy and I went back to my dorm. We both had a bit of homework to catch up on and, frankly, needed a night break from the boys. I check the time, sighing as I decide I should probably go.

"Hey Pans, I'm gonna head out. Don't wait up for me." I say, grabbing my bag.

"Amora Sinclair, where are you going so late?" she smirks, turning around in her desk chair.

I let out a small laugh, slipping on my shoes.

"It's not what your dirty mind is thinking," I reply, standing back up as I finish. "I have to finish the potions project with Riddle."

She shrugs her shoulders, peering over at me.

"Well, stay safe, darling." she says, turning back around as she focuses back on writing on her parchment.

"Love you, Pans." I add, slipping out of my dorm. She mumbles something in return as I shut the door behind me.

I head out of the Slytherin Common Room, heading closer towards the Astronomy Tower. I hug my robes closer to my body, the empty Dungeons feeling cold and dreary. Just as I reach the top of the Dungeons, a voice stops me in my tracks.

"Going somewhere, witch?" Mattheo asks.

That bloody nickname.

"Going to find you actually, Riddle." I reply, turning around to face him.

His signature smirk was plastered all over his face as he looks at me up and down. I cross my arms over my chest as I look at him.

"That so? Didn't think I'd see the day." he taunts sarcastically.

I roll my eyes in return.

"Why don't we just get this project over with, hmm?" I say as more of a statement than a question.

He rolls his tongue against his cheek, his gaze lingering on me.

"After you, witch." he replied, gesturing towards the potions classrooms.

I give him a somewhat skeptical look before walking past him, making our way to the classroom. He walks silently behind me before reaching the door. I push it open easily, finding it unlocked.

I toss my bag down on a random table before coming over to the ingredient cabinet. He leans up against a desk, crossing his arms as he peers over at me.

"Pearl Dust, Rose Petals, Thorns, Peppermint, Powdered Moonstone..." I think aloud as I grab each ingredient from the shelves.

I bring them over to a desk, setting each of them down.

"Well? Aren't you gonna start a cauldron?" I question.

I am not doing all this work on my own.

He pushes himself off the desk, coming over to the table I chose. He gives me an intimidating look before grabbing the cauldron and filling it about half-way with water.

I turn on the burner as he places the cauldron back down. I add a small bit of peppermint to the pot before turning up the heat to get the potion going.

I take out the piece of parchment I had started the previous night to now record the brewing process and such. I place the paper in front of Mattheo; he raises his brow at me in return.

"I did all this work yesterday. Now its your turn." I say, turning towards him.

"You've got some nerve, don't you?" he lowers his voice, his eyes darkening as he peers back at me.

I give him an annoyed shrug, turning back towards the cauldron. I didn't want to hear his complaints when he hasn't done a damn thing to help.

I slowly add in the rest of the ingredients, turning up the heat to a high setting as I sir the contents for about a minute. I watch as the potions begins to turn a shade of pink. The potions simmers for about 5 minutes. I look over curiously at Mattheo to see him scribbling something down on the parchment. I was somewhat surprised he was actually doing as I asked.

I turn the burner off, giving one last stir as the potions shines with a pearlescent finish. It was quite pretty, something so enchanting about it. Then again, that is the point of the potion. I carefully lift up the cauldron, pouring its contents into a small vile.

I swirl the potion around in the small container, watching it move as Mattheo finishes writing.

"The scent is supposed to be different to each person– tailored to what attracts them." I say, still entranced by the vile.

"Why don't you test it? Make sure you didn't fuck it up." he responds, setting the quill aside before looking over at me.

I roll my eyes in return, bringing the vile up to my nose. The aroma of the potion fills my senses as I attempt to determine the notes.

Cologne.

Mint.

Rain.

And... cigarettes.

No. That can't be right. I had to have messed up somewhere.

I furrow my brows as I smell the potion. I shake my head softly, handing the vile to him.

"Why don't you smell it." I huff.

He takes it from me, bringing the vile closer to his face. He holds it there for a moment as if in thought. I carefully watch him as he smells it.

"I don't smell anything." he says.

I cock my head at him curiously as he caps off the vile, setting it on the table. I could tell he was lying, but I didn't want to push him. Though, I was very interested to know what exactly the Mattheo Riddle was attracted to.

"Well, it looks fine and I got all the ingredients right, so I think it's just you." I give him a sarcastic smile.

He lowers his eyes at me, shaking his head slightly as he rolls his tongue against his cheek. He stays silent for a moment, as if he were observing me.

"Don't you realize I could kill you at any moment?" he says, stepping closer to me.

I peer up at him, my heart beating faster in my chest. I swallow the lump in my throat.

"Then why haven't you done it yet?" I challenge him.

Even though I was afraid of what he was capable of, I don't understand why he hasn't done it yet. It's been a bit over 2 months, and he hasn't done shit yet.

A small smirk forms on his lips, looking down at me as he inches closer. His hand comes down, lightly caressing my cheek. I didn't pull away, as if I was entranced.

"Maybe I want to take my time with you." he replies.

I let out a scoff, rolling my eyes at him. This man makes my head spin.

"I think you're full of shit." I say.

I'm not sure where my sudden rush of confidence came from, but I'm glad it did. It could either prove his bullshit or end very poorly for me. Sometimes you have to take a chance, right?

His gaze grows dark, his smirk widening as his grip suddenly wraps around my neck instead.

"And I think you underestimate me, witch." he says, giving my neck a squeeze.

I let out a small gasp, not being able to tear my eyes away from his. My hand grasps onto his wrist, trying to fight against him. I silently pull out my wand from my robes.

"Stupefy." I manage to mutter under my breath.

He gets knocked backwards, losing his grip on me. I can tell I caught him off guard, not used to me fighting back. I catch my breath momentarily, still pointing my wand towards him.

"Don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart." he snarls, getting back up.

"Don't test me, Riddle." I say, taking a step back, keeping my wand in position.

He chuckles softly, yet there was something so dark about the tone of his voice. He pulls his wand out as well. My heart beats faster in my chest, feeling a strong sense of fear and danger grow inside me.

"Yeah?" he taunts. "And what is a witch like you gonna do? You are weak, Amora Sinclair."

I swallow the lump in my throat, staying silent for a moment.

"Expel–"

"Expelliarmus." he interjects.

My wand goes flying into his hand, catching it with ease. He smirks, twirling the wood between his hands. I suddenly feel powerless. Without my magic I had no way to defend myself.

He steps closer to me, backing me up against the wall. A shiver rolls down my spine as it comes into concrete with the cold stone. He digs his wand into my throat.

"You may have caught me off guard once, witch, but it will never happen again." he says.

He keeps his gaze on me, my heart feeling as if it could burst from my chest at any moment. His hand comes in contact with my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip.

"See, when you play with fire, little witch," he begins. "you get burned."

The tension in the air was thick, hanging right over both our heads. I didn't know what to say, once again Riddle has left me speechless. He lets out a small laugh before pulling away, turning around.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ms. Sinclair." he says, giving me one last look before leaving the classroom.

~~~

Mattheo didn't show up to potions the next morning. Part of me was relieved, but another part of me was disappointed. I should hate him; in fact, I should absolutely despise him. And a part of me does, but I also can't seem to escape the side of me that wants to see him. The side of me that keeps going to him every night.

I know his motive. Well, at least what he says, but his actions speak differently. Why would he want to teach me Occlumency? He's one of the only people that I know of that can get into my head, so why would he teach me something that would prevent him from being able to do it.

I don't understand him.

But I guess I'll play along for now.

Classes went as per usual, nothing out of the ordinary. Theo had skipped dinner tonight, so Pansy and I decided to head to his dorm after. Whenever Theo skips a meal, you know there's something wrong.

"Theodoreee!" I say teasingly as I push open the door to his and Blaise's dorm.

Theo had his trunk out, shoving things inside.

"Woah, what's going on?" I ask, shutting the door behind Pansy and I.

"Yeah, Theo, why weren't you at dinner?" Pansy adds.

He lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he slams the top of his trunk closed. I come over, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as I give him a concerned look.

"My father is making me come home this weekend. Says I have some 'business to tend to'. Whatever the fuck that means." he replies, rolling his eyes.

I knew he wasn't annoyed with us. He was upset by the situation with his father. I turn him around to face me, wrapping my arms behind his neck as I embrace him, trying to show him that we're here for him.

One thing about Theo is that when he gets stressed or upset, he tries to isolate himself. I do my best to not let that happen.

"Oh Theo, I'm sorry." Pansy frowns.

"Do you want me to come with you? Because I will." I say, pulling away.

He shakes his head softly, his gaze meeting mine.

"No, I gotta do this on my own." he sighs.

I give him a sympathetic smile. Pansy takes a seat at his desk as I sit down on his bed.

"Where's Blaise?" Pansy asks.

Theo takes a seat next to me, putting his trunk on the floor.

"With Luna." he replies with a smirk.

I gasp in excitement. I was happy for Blaise, he's a genuine guy. He's had a few short flings, but never a serious relationship, but I could really see him going for Luna.

"You think they're serious?" I question, a cheeky smile on my face.

"I mean they've been together every night this week." he shrugs. "Plus this is one of the first girls I've ever seem him get giddy about and shit."

"Ugh, love is in the air." Pansy sighs in a teasing manner.

I roll my eyes jokingly at her as Theo wraps his arm around my shoulder.

"Says the one in a relationship." I remark.

"Yeah, how are you and ferret boy?" Theo asks.

He places a gentle kiss to my temple. I let out a laugh as I push him off, leaning back against the headboard of his bed.

"He would absolutely kill you if he ever heard you call him that." Pansy laughs. "But we're good. Things are steady between us for once."

"We're happy for you, Pans. You deserve to be happy." I reply.

Theo nodded in agreement, eyes flickering towards Pansy.

"Thanks guys." she smiles. "Speaking of which, I told him I would come to his dorm tonight."

She gets up from her spot, adjusting her skirt. I let out a sigh, stretching out my arms before getting up as well.

"I should probably go too." I say.

"I guess that's goodbye then; I leave early tomorrow morning." Theo replies, getting up as well.

I frown slightly, looking back over at him. I walk over, wrapping my arms around him, giving him another hug. He hugs me back tightly for a moment, before letting go.

"If you need anything, please write to me. You know I'll be there." I state, pulling away from him.

He chuckles softly.

"I know, Amora." he smiles.

Pansy says her goodbyes before we both leave. She heads towards Draco's dorm as I walk down the staircase towards the common room.

The common room was rather empty tonight, students most likely in their dorms or at the library studying since the weekend was coming up. I shiver slightly in the cold nighttime air of the dungeons.

I walk over towards the fireplace, standing in front of it to warm up. The fire crackled as I watched the flames dance around, holding out my hands as close to heat as I could without burning myself.

It was such a serene feeling, the warmth of the fire kissing my skin paired with the peacefulness of the common room at this time. It was moments like this in where you wish you could stay forever.

The calm before the storm– if you will.

I stay there for a few minutes, letting my mind wander as I savored the moment before sneaking out of the common room. I walked carefully through the empty halls of the castle, not wanting to get caught.

I come up the stairs of the astronomy tower, having second thoughts. What the hell was I doing? My mind was telling me how dumb of a decision it might be to keep seeing Riddle, but I was also scared to see what might happen if I defy him.

I reach the top, silently coming around the corner as I see Mattheo leaning against the railing, smoking a cigarette.

How typical.

He turns around, having heard my footsteps– his back now against the railing as he puffs out a cloud of smoke.

"I was starting to believe you weren't coming, witch." he drawls, the nickname rolling off his tongue.

I look over at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well, I'm here." I reply simply.

He chuckles softly, taking one last drag before tossing the cigarette on the ground, putting it out with his foot.

"Let's not waste time then." he says, stepping closer to me, gesturing towards a chair on the other side of the tower.

I give him a skeptical look before walking over, taking a seat in the chair as he comes over as well.

"Now, for this to work, you have to trust me." he states, standing in front of me.

I scoff, furrowing my brows as I peer up at him.

"Why the fuck should I trust you?" I question. "For all I know this is all a set up."

He shrugs, a smirk growing on his lips.

"And maybe it is. But maybe it isn't." he replies. "That's the thing about trust– you never really know."

I roll my eyes in return.

"Like you would know a thing about trust." I mutter, my voice dripping in sarcasm.

He rolls his eyes back at me, swiping his tongue against his cheek as he lowers his eyes at me.

He leans down, hands resting against the arms of the chair as we come face-to-face.

"Do it or not. Just remember it's your grave." he says, his voice void of emotion.

I lean back against the chair, letting out a breath.

"Fine." I reply. "I trust you."

His smirk returns, standing back up straight as he paces in a line in front of me. I watch his movements carefully.

"Good, good." he mutters.

He stops for a moment, turning to face me.

"Now, I will attempt to enter your mind and you will try to resist, got it?" he states.

Merlin, making it sound like it's easy.

I nod as I look up at him, his features dark as he faces away from the moon. His eyes search mine, my heart pumping in my chest. He pulls out his wand as I place my hands on the arm rests, gripping it tightly.

"Legilimens." he casts, a ball of light shooting out of his wand.

I close my eyes, furrowing my brows as it felt like someone was piercing my mind. A groan of discomfort escapes my lips as a flash of memories cross my mind– reliving it.

Anxiety floods through my veins as I try and keep him out, but to no avail. It felt as if someone had possessed my mind.

"You're not trying hard enough, witch." he spat, lifting his spell.

I let out a breath of relief.

"I am trying!" I scoff defensively, shifting my gaze away from him.

He lowers his eyes at me, stepping closer. His hand meets my chin, lifting my face up to meet his eyes.

"You leave yourself vulnerable, Amora," he says, examining my features. "Making it so easy to slip into your thoughts."

He stops for a moment, pursing his lips in a fine line as he thinks. He drops his hand, turning back around as he begins to slowly pace once again.

"You need to clear your mind, build up a mental shield." he goes on.

I bite the inside of my lip nervously, nodding as I listen to his words. He stops pacing, turning to face me as he lifts his wand.

"Let's try this again." he clears his throat. "Legilimens."

The sharp sharp feeling in my head intensifies, clenching my jaw as my face scrunches together. My hands grip the arms of the chair tightly, my knuckles turning white. Flashes of light crosses my vision as different memories flood my mind.

"Do you know what the name 'Amora' means?" my father asks.

I shake my head, furrowing my brows in confusion as I look up at him. He chuckles, kneeling down on the soft grass below us.

"It means 'love'." he says, his hand reaching around mine. "Your love is a gift, Amora. The most precious gift you can ever give."

A smile grows on my lips as I listen to his words.

"But how do I know who to love?" I question.

"When the time comes, you'll just know." he smiles.

I nod, thinking for a moment. He laughs softly, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"That's private!" I shout at Mattheo, reality settling back in.

"Focus, witch!" he snaps back. "Legilimens!"

The same sensation fills my senses, like a presence piercing my mind. This time I fight against it, taking in a deep breath as I ease my mind.

I let go of my emotions, trying to fight against his his power. My head spins, but this time I see nothing, I feel nothing. I slowly open my eyes, calming my breath and my rapid heartbeat. It was as if the world went quiet.

Mattheo peers down at me with an unreadable expression, but this time in a positive manner. He seemed proud, maybe even impressed, but something I couldn't quite distinguish.

"You did it." he smirks.

"I did it." I reply, letting out a shaky breath of relief.

He leans back against the stone bricks of the tower, keeping his gaze set on me.

"You know though, I have to ask," I begin, getting up from the chair and leaning against the wall opposite him. "why are you doing this? Helping me, I mean."

His smirk lingers on his features, his eyes trailing around before meeting mine once again. He pushes himself off the wall, stepping closer to me. I look up at him as he brushes a piece of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

"To keep myself out of your thoughts." he states.

I furrow my brows in confusion.

"I don't understand–"

"You don't understand the effect you have on people." Mattheo says, lowering his voice.

My mouth falls open slightly to say something, but no words come out. Just like that, he turns away, taking a step back. I stand still against the brick, processing his words.

"I'll see you tomorrow, witch." he adds.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my hands pressing against the cold brick.

"Mattheo–"

"Goodnight, Amora." he asserts.

I let out a huff, biting the inside of my lip before pushing myself off the wall, heading back down the stairs of the Astronomy Tower.

Confusion swirls around in my mind as I play what happened tonight over and over in my head. As if I thought I couldn't be anymore confused about this man.

But still, I found myself coming back. Every single night for the next three weeks.

———

Chapter 14

"Sectumsempra."

~~~

November 29, 1996

"People might like you more if you weren't such an asshole all the time, ya know?" I say, taking a deep hit off the tight joint he rolled.

"That so?" Mattheo cocked his head in a mocking manner. "I don't need people to like me."

I laugh softly, smoke escaping my lips as the effects of the weed cloud my system. I lean my head against the cold stone of the Astronomy Tower.

"I think that's bullshit," I reply, passing the joint back to him.

He takes it from my hand, bringing it to his lips as he lowers his eyes at me. I meet his gaze, a small smile etched on my face.

"You want people to fear you, but you don't want to be alone. That's far too sad." I go on.

A small smirk grows on his lips as he keeps his gaze on me. He blows out a puff of smoke.

"What are you, my fucking psychologist?" he snarls.

I roll my eyes, getting up from my spot against the wall as I snatch the joint back. I take another deep hit, letting the smoke fill my lungs as I hold it there for a moment before blowing out.

I take another small hit before passing it back to him.

"Ugh, this is what I mean, Riddle!" I sigh, laughing slightly as I spin around in a small circle, incredibly high from the weed.

He rolls his eyes in return, bringing the joint up to his lips once more.

"Sit the fuck down, witch, before you hurt yourself." he says, blowing out a puff of smoke before putting out the joint that was now nothing more that a small nub.

I let out a small laugh at him once again, my mind clouded as I stop for a moment, leaning against the railing of the tower. The view of the castle was beautiful from here. Winter was coming soon, I could feel it in the air.

"Don't be so uptight." I tease, peering back at him.

His smirk widens, shaking his head slightly as he watches me. I hold onto the railings, leaning back and forth.

"The Mattheo Riddle a fucking evil mastermind," I mock. "worried I'm going to injure myself."

I hadn't realized it, but he had gotten up as well, slowly inching his way closer to me as he watched carefully.

"How is it that you're even still allowed in this school?" I question, still going on as I continue carelessly spinning and leaning off the railing.

Before I could register, my hand slipped. I fell backwards, unable to regain balance before coming to a rough halt.

He caught me.

One hand was tightly gripped around my arm, the other snaked around my back. I look up at him, his expression hard. I pause for a moment, my heart rate returning after the rush of adrenaline.

"What the fuck did I tell you–"

"Woah," I whisper. "I fell."

He lets out a sharp breath, bringing me back to my feet.

"And you caught me." I tease, a smirk tugging at my lips.

Mattheo rolls his eyes in return, a small scoff escaping his lips. He lets go of me, brushing himself off.

"Don't let it get to your head, witch." he spat.

I laugh softly, looking up at him with a cheeky smirk. I roll my tongue against my cheek as I think for a moment.

"I think you're starting to care, Riddle," I say, "You like me."

I was pushing his buttons, I could tell. But it sure as hell was fun.

He raises his brow, cocking his head slightly.

"Don't make me laugh." he replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I shrug, my eyes trailing around the room before meeting his gaze.

"Then why didn't you let me fall?" I ask. "You would have let anyone else fall."

His tongue rolls against his cheek as his gaze darkens, keeping his eyes fixed on me. His expression was unreadable, lips forming a fine line.

My smile faltered slightly, cocking my head as I awaited his response.

"Don't fool yourself, witch." he says. "I merely tolerate you, don't mistake my actions for anything other than what it is."

I roll my eyes at him.

"Mhm." I hum.

I had grown much more accustomed to his attitudes and mood swings, not that I particularly enjoyed them, but I don't take it to heart. There's always a double meaning behind his words; I never really know what he means and what he doesn't anyways.

"Now leave. I'll see you tomorrow, witch." he adds, pulling out a box of cigarettes from his pocket.

"No you won't." I shake my head slightly. "Party in the Slytherin Common Room, can't miss it."

He cocks his brow at me, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"Right." he drawls. "Because the Slytherin Princess herself can't miss it."

"Don't call me that." I scowl.

His smirk grows, I could tell he liked doing things to piss me off.

"Why not?" he questions.

"Because I don't like it." I snap back.

I didn't intend for my words to come out with aggression, but I absolutely despised the nickname. Ever since Miles, I can't stand being called 'princess'.

"Ah yes," he says, "witch suites you better anyways."

I bite the inside of my lip, subtly rolling my eyes at him.

"Goodnight, Riddle." I reply, giving him one last look before turning away.

I leave the tower, being careful to not be caught out of bed by Filtch or any of the prefects. Detention was the last thing I needed right now.

I don't know why I still came to him almost every night, it had become a habit. We've done so much more than just smoking and talking. He obviously taught me Occlumency, but he also began teaching me how to defend myself.

It all confused the fuck out of me.

Of course I hadn't forgotten his ultimate task, in fact maybe this is all a part of his elaborate plan. But something kept drawing me back in, like a moth to a flame. If I'm just gonna end up dead in the end, then fuck it. I'll trust my gut and take risks, all according to plan, right?

~~~

"Fuck, lets do another." Theo says, cringing slightly at the taste of the firewhiskey.

"Mate, you might want to pace yourself." Blaise laughs.

I laugh as well before pouring another round of shots. The last time I had gone to a party was Halloween, and well... we all know how that went. Needless to say, a night out was much needed and much overdue. Though, it is crazy to think that everything happened just about a month ago.

Time works funny that way.

I pass out a glass to everyone– Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and Draco. I raise my shot glass, a smile on my face as I already feel a bit of a buzz.

"To having a good ass time." I cheer.

We clink glasses before knocking back the shot, the firwhiskey burning down my throat. I shake my head slightly, putting my glass down as the alcohol goes down smoothly.

"Alright, lets go before you lot get too drunk." Draco says, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh shut it ferret, you're the one who's a lightweight." Theo snickers.

Once in our fourth year, Professor Moody transfigured Draco into a ferret, which of course Theo has never been able to live down. Draco absolutely despises the nickname and isn't afraid to hex anyone who uses it.

"Theo I swear to Merlin–"

"Alright ladies, that's enough. Let's go." Pansy giggles.

We all head out of Pansy and I's dorm, walking down the staircase as music begins to flood my ears. We step into the common room, music blasting and the air thick with people and sweaty bodies.

"Good to be back!" I exclaim as I reach the bottom of the stairs, turning back towards Theo with a smirk.

"You are something else." Theo says, shaking his head slightly as he laughs, the music drowning out his voice.

We push our way through the crowds of students, the faint green lighting making faces hard to make out. We get over to the drink table, pouring another round of shots and a mixed drink.

Pansy takes my hand, guiding me towards the dance floor as we laugh together. We move along to the music, bumping into the pool of sweaty people as I start to feel the effects of the alcohol hitting my system.

"Fuck, you look so hot." Pansy slurs as we dance to the music.

"I think you're just drunk!" I laugh along with her, swiftly finishing whatever concoction was in my cup before discarding it.

I close my eyes as Pansy holds onto my hands, swaying my hips to the music as I enjoy the intoxicated sensation that filled my senses. My mind went foggy as all I could hear was the blasting music above from the speakers, the air was hot and thick from all the people as green lights danced across their skin.

After some time, I turned towards Pansy, grasping her wrist as I leaned in so she could hear me.

"I think we need another shot." I say.

I also needed some air, the heat rising to my cheeks. She nods, a small drunk smile plastered on her lips as we pushed our way back through the crowd.

We get to the drink table, pouring another round of shots before swiftly tossing them back. We slam the shot glasses back on the table, grimacing slightly from the taste.

"Merlin, that was vile." I giggle.

Pansy picks up the bottle, her eyes scanning over it.

"Red currant rum?" she shrugs.

"Red currant my ass." I reply.

She puts the bottle down, shoving my shoulder slightly in a joking manner as she gets into a laughing fit, causing me to join her.

I hold onto the table as I catch my breath from laughing. I'm not really sure what was so funny, but in the moment I couldn't stop. My vision grew blurry, grabbing onto Pansy's arm for support as she leans onto me as well.

We push our way to the couches, spotting Draco, Blaise, and Theo, blazing up of course. There were no extra seats, so I plopped myself across Theo's lap. He rolls his eyes at me with a smirk as he takes another hit before passing it to me.

I let out a laugh before bringing the joint up to my lips, inhaling deeply before puffing out the smoke. I pass the joint to Pansy who is now somewhat sprawled on Draco's lap, watching as she does the same.

I watch as Luna comes over in a frilly outfit, decorated in soft pink and purple tones. She grabs Blaise's hand, whispering something to him as a smile grows on his lips before getting up and leaving with her.

"Someone's a little drunk." Theo whispers to me, his eyes half closed and bloodshot. I laugh softly.

Clearly this wasn't the first joint.

"Blaise? I didn't think he seemed too bad." I reply, the same drunk smile still plastered on my face.

He shakes his head slight, laughing before replying.

"I meant you, dumbass." he says.

I slap his shoulder playfully, scoffing.

"Asshole, I am not!" I reply.

He gives me a skeptical look as I try and keep a straight face, but failing miserably as I go into a fit of laughter.

"Okay maybe a little." I huff. "No need to call me out like that."

I look over at Pans, seeing her straddling Draco as they make out.

"I'm gonna go get some air." I say, getting up.

Theo nods as I give him a small smile before pushing my way back through the crowd towards the entrance to the common room.

I push the painting open, taking in a deep breath as I feel the cold dungeon air against my hot skin. I close it behind me, before walking down the hall a bit. There were stray students everywhere, some talking, making out, smoking, and even one or two girls crying.

Been there.

I wander down the hall a bit, laughing to myself as I relish in the fresh air contrasted to the thick atmosphere of the party going on. I keep my eyes down, watching my feet as I try not to stumble.

I look up for a moment, meeting the familiar deep brown eyes I have grown so accustomed to. A smirk grows on my lips as I see him, raising a brow at me as a cigarette dangles between his lips.

"Do my eyes deceive me? Mattheo Riddle at a party?" I laugh, a stupid drunk smile lingering on my face.

"Technically we're outside of a party, witch." he drawls.

I roll my eyes at his smart remark, leaning against the wall next to him for support.

"Close enough." I reply, peering up at him.

He takes a long drag of cigarette, blowing out a cloud of smoke in my direction before stubbing it out. I never minded the smell of cigarettes or tobacco, but I raised my brows at him curiously before letting out a small laugh, unable to take anything seriously.

My eyes wander over his features in the dim lighting of the dungeons, tracing over the long scar that slashed through his eye.

"Need something?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What? I can't say hi to a friend at a party?" I cock my head at him.

"We're not friends." he snaps quickly.

I raise my brows at him curiously, his eyes burning into mine under his intense gaze.

"Then what are we, huh?" I question. "Oh that's right you're just my future murderer."

I laugh softly, covering my mouth to prevent me looking any stupider that I already do. He lowers his eyes at me.

He stays silent for a moment.

"Do you ever learn to shut the fuck up, witch?" he replies, brushing me off.

I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head.

"Hey princess," I hear a deep, slurred voice from behind me.

My face scrunches in confusion, but before I could react I felt a hand snake around my waist. I quickly turn around, shoving his hand away as I take a step back.

"The fuck?" I scoff.

"Come on baby don't be like that." Miles says.

He reeked of alcohol as he had a slight sway to his motion. I know I was drunk, but this man was absolutely wasted. Not that it excuses his actions at all.

"Get the fuck away from me, what part of 'I don't want to see you again' did you not understand?" I ask, feeling anger and hurt rise up in my chest.

He throws his hands in the air in defense, laughing softly to himself.

"Oh come on Amora, that was months ago," he slurs. "I think we both know you're still a slut for me anyways."

My face drops, a scowl growing on my lips as I feel my anger begin to explode.

"The fuck did you just say, Bletchley?" Mattheo barks, quickly grabbing onto the collar of his shirt and slamming his back against the wall.

My jaw falls open slightly, in shock at what was unfolding in front of me. He mutters something to Miles that I couldn't quite decipher. His voice was low, dangerous even.

I heard another set of quick footsteps behind me, turning around before letting out a sigh of relief.

"What the hell is happening?" Theo asks.

"I– I don't know." I reply, my eyes searching his.

Theo looks over at Mattheo and Miles, letting out a small scoff and rolling his eyes before grabbing onto my arm gently.

"Come on Amora, lets go. I'll walk you back to your dorm." Theo says as he begins to guide me in the opposite direction.

I turn head one last time, locking eyes with Mattheo for a brief moment before he turns away, slamming Miles' back against the brick once again as he lets out a groan. I furrow my brows before turning back around, walking along with Theo as he takes me back to my dorm.

~~~

MATTHEO'S POV

He made my blood absolutely boil.

Watching him touch her and speak to her the way he did.

"I think we both know you're still a slut for me anyways." he says, his drunken voice full of arrogance.

That was my breaking point. My anger snapped in half as I lunged to him, grasping onto his collar as I slammed his back against the dungeon wall.

"The fuck did you just say, Bletchley?" I snap, my jaw clenching.

I could practically smell the fear on him as he stammered.

"I– I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!" he says quickly.

I let out a dark chuckle, narrowing my eyes at him as I leaned closer.

"You're just like your father, you know that?" I say to him. "You're an arrogant, low-life piece of shit."

"Shut up about my father!" he replies, voice cracking slightly.

A sadistic smirk grows on my lips. Seems I've hit a nerve.

"You're weak, just like he is. I see the fear in your eyes, Bletchley." I add. "In line to be in the next generation of death eaters, isn't that right?" I cock.

He stays silent. I let out another laugh.

"Which means you're about to be my father's little bitch. Following in daddy's footsteps I suppose." I spat in his ear, like venom on my tongue.

I look over at Amora, locking eyes with her before breaking it as I see her walking away with Nott. I slam Bletchley back against the wall as he lets out a groan of pain.

"Figures." I taunt at his silence.

I push him away from my grip, watching as he stumbles to regain his balance. He looks up at me, anger brewing in his eyes as he attempts to swing at me.

I swiftly dodge his attacks, my smirk growing as I find his attempts amusing. He throws another one, landing one right in the center of my face. The ring on his hand leaving a small cut across my nose.

"That the best you got, Bletchley?" I say, feeling blood drip out from my wound.

He clenches his jaw, stammering to pull his wand out from the waistline of his pants.

"You want to fight with magic? Then so be it." I add, my voice growing dark as I grasp my own wand.

"Fuck you, Riddle!" he slurs as he begins firing spells at me.

I dodge them with ease, chuckling darkly at his efforts.

"Sectumsempra." I cast, the flash of light hitting him directly in the chest.

I watch as he falls backwards, hitting the floor with a loud thud. I step closer, watching as he writhes in pain on the ground, cuts and gashes beginning to form over his chest and arms.

I debate on leaving him there, in a pool of his own blood, but it would get traced back to me. I stop the curse, healing the gashes before delivering a sharp stop to his face. I lift up his head by the hair to look at me, leaning down as I speak.

"If you ever fucking come near her or touch her ever again, I will make every moment of your life a living hell. Got it?" I spat.

He nods quickly, the best he can in his condition. I let out a satisfied hum before letting go, tucking my wand back away as I turn on my heels, walking back towards the common room.

———

Chapter 15

"There's nothing to understand. He hurt you, Amora. He had to pay, I don't give a fuck if he was wasted."

~~~

December 1st, 1996

The bright morning light crept through my dorm window, leaving a warm trail of illumination against my skin. The cold air sent a sharp chill down my spine, causing me to wake up.

"Fucking hell," I mutter, my eyes flickering open as I roll over in my bed.

My eyes scrunch closed at the light as I stretch out my limbs. I sit up in bed, yawning as I examine the rough state of my dorm. Clothing items were scattered over the floor, makeup products and used shot glasses littered our desks.

My head pounded as a wave of nausea ran through me, my body exhausted. I grab a bottle of water from my nightstand, chugging its contents to suppress the nausea.

I take a deep breath, looking over at Pansy's bed to see her passed out, tangled in the sheets with Draco by her side. My eyes trail down to Theo, asleep on the floor with nothing but a small blanket.

I watch Theo stir in his sleep before leaning back against my pillow, my hands rubbing against my face tiredly.

"Morning sunshine." Theo mocks as he stretches out before getting up and taking a seat on the edge of my bed. I remove my hands, giving him a look before replying.

"Why did you sleep on the floor?" I ask.

He laughs softly, running a hand through his hair.

"Because you kicked me out of your bed." he replies.

"I did not!" I scoff.

He props himself up, laying at the end of my bed.

"Yes, you did. I helped you back to your dorm and helped you get ready for bed and we laid down, but right before you fell asleep you pushed me off." he shrugs.

A laugh escaped my lips, followed by a wince.

"Everything hurts." I say, leaning back against my pillows, my arms covering my face.

"Oh I bet." Theo smirks, chuckling softly.

I take a deep breath as I lay there for a moment, the motions of last night running through my brain.

"Merlin, I'm never drinking again." Pansy moans from across the room, causing Theo and I to laugh.

"I second that." I reply.

She sits up, her hand resting against her head. I prop myself up against my pillows as I look over at her.

"I feel like I'm going to vomit." she groans.

"Drink some water, babe." I say.

I grab the half empty water bottle from my nightstand, tossing it over to Pansy's bed, accidentally hitting Draco. Pansy stifles a laugh as Draco wakes up, a confused expression written on his face.

"Sorry Malfoy!" I gasp, trying to hold in my laughter.

I absolutely didn't mean to do it, but Merlin it's always fun to mess with Draco.

"Fuck you, Amora." he grumbles, rolling over in bed.

~~~

I threw the hood of my sweatshirt over my head as we took our seats in the Great Hall. I pour myself a rather large cup of coffee, resting my head against my palm.

"Why hasn't there been a potion or spell created yet to cure hangovers." I grumble, grabbing a piece of toast and setting it on my plate.

"That would be bloody genius, bet you could make a fortune out of that." Theo says, shoveling scoops of just about every food onto his plate.

I reluctantly take a bite of my toast, finding it hard to eat anything, but I know the food will be good for my stomach. The chattering of other students was loud, whispers and rumors of events that occurred last night.

"Heard Bletchley was sent to the Hospital Wing late last night." Draco pipes up.

My stomach drops, having an awful feeling of what might've happened– better yet, an awful feeling about who did it.

"What?" I ask, my voice low with disbelief.

"Yeah, heard he was found in the Dungeons in pretty rough shape. Madam Pomfrey said he should be fine though, getting released later tonight hopefully." he shrugs.

I take a large sip of coffee, holding the warm mug between both hands as my mind races with different scenarios.

What the actual fuck.

I look at Theo with a guilty expression. Maybe I shouldn't have left. Maybe if I had stayed this wouldn't have happened. I know what he said and did was disgusting behavior, but that doesn't mean he deserved that.

Theo shakes me off. He probably doesn't want to seem suspicious– and he most likely didn't feel bad; he always hated Miles.

I swallow the lump in my throat, staring off into space for a few moments, my grip tight on the mug in my hands. I take another big sip, Pansy's voice snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Honestly that prick deserves everything coming to him." she says, "Anyways, anyone wanna go to Hogsmeade today?"

"Yes please," I reply.

Pansy looks at Draco expectantly.

"Sorry, Pans, I can't." he sighs.

"Yeah me either," Theo adds.

I let out a disappointed huff.

"Boo you guys, what the hell." I say.

"Screw you guys then, Amora and I will have a girls day." Pansy smirks.

~~~

I hug my jacket closer to my body, laughing softly as fresh snow fell from the sky. Though the cold weather was a bitch, Hogwarts always looked most beautiful when covered in a layer of snow.

We step into Honeydukes, warm air from the fire instantly warming us up as the delicious scent of candies, caramels, and chocolates fulled our senses. They had just about any treat you could imagine.

"You getting anything?" Pansy asks as we walk by the bright green shelves.

"Hmmm," I hum as my eyes scan the shelves. "I think I'll get a Pumpkin Pastie and a bag of Fizzing Whizzbees. You?"

Pansy bites her bottom lip softly, thinking for a moment.

"Just a Chocolate Wand I think." she replies. "I don't know why I have a hankering for chocolate."

I laugh softly as we bring our things up front, giving Mr. Flume a few sickles before leaving the sweet shop.

"You know I always wondered what Mr. Flume was hiding under that hat." Pansy says. "Maybe he's got like an evil twin on the other side of his head."

"Pansy!" I laugh, swatting her arm lightly.

She laugh as well, small snowslakes sticking to her eyelashes.

"What? He's always wearing that damn hat!" she says defensively, "Plus Professor Quirrel had the Dark Lord on the other side of his head our first year."

"I think those were different circumstances." I chuckle, "Plus Mr. Flume is like eighty years old."

We walk along the snowy side walks of the different shops, students scattered everywhere as Saturday was always the busiest day at Hogsmeade.

"Well–" Pansy begins.

Suddenly, a loud, high-pitched scream caught our attention. Our head snap in the direction of the commotion before glancing at each other. We jog through the snow towards the bridge leading back to Hogwarts.

Katie Bell, a Gryffindor girl in our year was suspended in the air, being jerked back and forth roughly. An opal necklace with a brown paper covering sat in the snow just below her.

"What the fuck is happening?" I mutter to Pansy.

"I warned her!" Katie's friend says, taking a step away from the girl. "I warned her not to touch it!"

She steps closer to the Golden Trio who stood a good 10 feet in front of us, watching what was unfolding as well.

Katie was then frozen, still in the air, mouth open as silent screams came out of her lips. She then came crashing down, landing on the hard stone with a loud thud.

"Don't go any closer!" Hagrid's voice came booming from behind us. "Get away from her, all of you."

Hagrid approached the girl, swiftly picking her up to get her to the Hospital Wing.

"Come on, Amora, we should get out of here." Pansy says quietly to me.

I nod in response, finding it hard to tear my eyes away from the scene, no matter how horrific it just was. Pansy and I turn back around, taking another route back to the castle.

"What the hell just happened?" I ask Pansy as we walk swiftly back towards the castle.

"I don't know," she sighs, "but whatever it is, we don't want to get involved."

A shiver rolls down my spine, both from the cold and a sense of fear and danger that I couldn't help but pick up on.

"I don't get it." I huff, "Who would do that to Katie Bell of all people?"

"My guess is that it wasn't meant for Katie." Pansy looks over at me, eyebrows furrowed.

Silence falls over us for a moment as we get closer to the castle.

"Who do you think it was meant for?" I question, turning towards Pansy.

Even if the cursed necklace wasn't meant for Katie, why did she have it? I could never imagine a goody-two-shoes like her to be cursing anyone knowingly. Unless someone gave it to her and didn't tell her it was cursed. But then, who would give it to her?

The questions kept siwlring in my mind, like a never ending carrousel that always came back to the first.

"I have no idea," she shrugs, "Dumbledore, maybe? Or someone higher in power like the Minister of Magic."

It was a complete shot in the dark, but with being on practically the brink of war, nothing should really be surprising anymore.

"You think it was an assassination attempt?" I ask.

"Maybe, I mean did you see how Katie looked? Of course I hope she lives, but it looked like a deadly curse." she replies.

A sigh escapes my lips, my breath creating a small cloud in contrast to the cold air.

"Well whoever it was meant for better watch their back." I say, "I have a feeling this isn't going to be the first attempt."

The sun was now beginning to set over the castle, the dark setting beginning to creep in. We finally reach the castle, stepping through the grand doors near the Great Hall. Dinner was just about to start.

"Wanna grab dinner?" Pansy asks, taking off her scarf as we finally reached the warm confines of the castle.

"I think I'll pass– I'm not really hungry, Pans." I shrug.

"Suit yourself," Pansy sighs, "I'm gonna meet with Draco and them, I'll see you later tonight."

She gives me a small kiss on the cheek before turning and walking towards the Great Hall. I give her a smile in return. I walk through the bare halls of Hogwarts, students either at dinner, at Hogsmeade, or simply in their own dorms.

I passed the stairway to the Dungeons, heading towards the Astronomy tower. I wanted to know the truth about what happened last night– I needed to know why. I also had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that he had something to do with what happened to Katie.

He acted like he didn't give a fuck about me, in fact I know he doesn't care about me. But why the hell would he do something like that for someone you don't care about.

I take careful steps up the many stairs of the tower, letting out a sigh of relief as I reach the top. I turn the corner to find absolutely nothing. He wasn't here. For the first time in about a month.

My face scrunches in confusion, the empty tower is peaceful, but I find its loneliness a bit eerie. I lean against the railing, taking in the snow covered castle from this view. It was the first snowfall of the year, which was always one of my favorites.

I hug my jacket closer to my body as the cold nips at my skin. I let out a frustrated huff, turning on my heels as I make my way back down the tower.

I'm not giving up that easily. Fuck it. If he isn't in the common room, I'll go to his damn dorm. I make my way towards the dungeons, through the painting, and into the common room.

Why am I going on a damn scavenger hunt to find this man.

The painting-door closes behind me, peering into the common room to find no trace of Mattheo. There were a few students here, some by the bookcase, others sitting by the fire. But not the person I was looking for.

I let out another frustrated huff before turning and walking up the staircase to the boys dorms. I find dorm number 604, taking in a deep breath as I stand before it. I was nervous. I had never been in his room before, not that I exactly had an urge to.

My heart beat quickened in my chest as I finally grew the courage to knock. I knocked twice, no answer. I pressed my ear against the door, I couldn't hear anything except the faint scratching of a quill against parchment.

He was in there.

I debate my options for a moment. I could just leave and find him tomorrow, or I could barge in and confront him. Something inside me urged for the second option. My hand reached for the door handle, turning slowly.

Unlocked.

Anxiety grew inside me, but I went for it. I pushed the door open, quickly stepping inside as I shut it behind me.

I turn around, finally facing Mattheo. His room was dark and extremely tidy, having a faint smell of cigarettes and cologne. He looks up from his parchment, a small yet intimidating smirk growing on his lips.

"What the fuck are you doing here, witch?" he drawls.

"Why did you do it?" I ask, getting right to my point.

He cocks his head at me, setting down his quill.

"What are you on about?" he questions.

He was lying through his teeth. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Miles. You sent him to the hospital wing." I state.

He lets out a chuckle, getting up from his spot at his desk before stalking towards me.

"Do you even know what you're accusing me of, right now?" he asks, his voice low in a somewhat dangerous tone.

"I don't know what the fuck you did to him, but I know it was you." I say, looking up at him.

He rolls his tongue against his cheek, peering down at me as he takes another step closer.

"Do you?" he mocks, "How do you know that the prick didn't get into a fight with someone else after you left."

I take a deep breath.

"Because I know you better than that. I know this is the exact thing you're capable of." I reply, swallowing the lump in my throat.

He shakes his head slight, letting out a small laugh. Is this amusing to him?

"Please, witch," he drawls, "You haven't seen what I'm capable of."

I cock my head at him, furrowing my brows.

"But you are clever, I'll give you that." he adds, a hint of sarcasm lingering in his voice.

"You didn't answer my question. Why did you do it." I say.

He rolls his eyes.

"Fine. Yes, I did it." he admits, "One thing I will not tolerate is disrespect. He disrespected you."

I bite the inside of my lip softly as I look up at him, my face scrunching together in thought. Once I think I have him figured out, he does something so odd that it throws everything off.

"I don't understand-"

"There's nothing to understand. He hurt you, Amora. He had to pay, I don't give a fuck if he was wasted." he lowers his gaze at me.

"But why do you care, Mattheo?" I ask, my gaze meeting his.

He takes in a breath, breaking eye contact as his eyes scan around the room for a moment before meeting mine once again.

"I don't." he states.

Once again, he was lying. I knew he was lying.

I let out a breath, somewhat frustrated from the situation, but I know he isn't going to give me the answers I was looking for.

"One more thing," I say, "were you the one who cursed Katie Bell?"

He chuckles softly, shaking his head slightly.

"What reason would I have to curse Katie Bell?" he scoffs.

"I don't know, why do you do any of the things that you do?" I say, my voice getting a bit louder.

As if even possible, he takes another step forward as I take a step back until my back hit the wall. I couldn't tear my eyes from his, his deep gaze practically entrancing me as he pinned me against the wall.

"If I wanted to kill someone," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "I wouldn't do it through a pathetic necklace. I want them to know it was me who took their last breath away."

My heart quickens in my chest as I swallow the lump in my throat. The murderous glint in his eye making me rethink of who it was I was speaking to.

Some part of me wondered if he had actually ever killed someone before. He always alluded to the fact that he had, but he has never flat out said it.

"I'm sorry, I had to ask." I say nervously, looking away from him as I tear my gaze away.

He lets out another laugh, his hand gripping my chin roughly, forcing me to look back at him. His thumb brushes against my bottom lip gently, sending a trail of sparks down my skin.

"Next time," he says, suddenly pressing down on my lip, earning a small wince from me, "Be sure of what you know before barging in here and accusing me of things I didn't do."

He lowered his eyes at me, releasing his grip. I couldn't form any words, all I could do was nod.

"Good. Now leave." he says, releasing one of his arms.

I slip through his grip, quickly exiting the dorm, shutting the door behind me.

What the fuck just happened.

It was a common thought that crossed my mind just about every time I saw him. I don't understand– I couldn't. I couldn't possibly wrap my mind around any of his actions. He is a mystery to me.

I take a deep breath as I walk back to my own dorm, my mind replaying the previous events over and over.

I push open the door to my dorm, to my surprise Theo was there. I close the door behind me, slightly confused as I watched him pace.

"Merlin, what the fuck, Amora!" Theo says, throwing his hands in the air as he notices me.

"What happened? What did I do?" I ask, confusion written all over my face.

He runs a hand through his hair.

"I've been trying to find you for the last fucking hour." he states.

"Theo, what's wrong?" I ask, setting my coat down on my bed as I take a step closer to him.

I could practically feel the stress and anger radiating off him, but I was clueless as to why.

"What? Not even going to come up with an excuse as to where you've been?" he says, raising his voice slightly.

"Excuse me?" I scoff.

I cross my arms over my chest as I look over at him. He lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly.

"Oh please, don't act like I don't know where you've been sneaking off to every night. I'm sick of fucking sitting back and watching you ruin your life." he remarks.

I raise my brows at him, somewhat curious and somewhat in disbelief.

"Whatever you think you know," I say, "you're wrong."

"Really? So you're not fucking around with Mattheo Riddle every night?" he questions, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

How did he know. When did he find out.

My jaw falls open slight, but no words come out. I was caught off guard.

"I knew it." he says, clenching his jaw as he looks over at me.

"I don't really see how that's any of your business, Theo." I reply.

"Of course, it's my fucking business Amora!" he yells, "Do you even know what him and his father have planned? He wants you and your mother dead!"

I flinch slightly at his rough tone. I've seen Theo angry before, but this was a new level. He's never taken it out on me before.

"I know.." I say quietly.

He lets out another laugh, running a frustrated hand through his hair before throwing his arms up at me.

"So you know that he is going to kill you and yet you're still hanging out with him?" he scoffs in disbelief, "What the fuck, Amora!"

"It's not like that–"

"Then what the fuck is it like?" he says, "Because from my position, you look like a damn fool."

I raise my brows at him, letting out a scoff as I watch him pace back and forth, scolding me like a damn child.

"I don't have an answer that's going to satisfy you, Theo." I sigh.

"Please, enlighten me." he snaps.

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking at me expectantly.

"I don't know, okay!" I yell, "You don't understand, I can't help it."

I had kept my cool, but I was reaching my breaking point.

"Merlin's beard, is that the best you can fucking come up with?" he scoffs, "Do you have any fucking idea what I've done to try and protect you from him? But here you are, falling right into his hands. He's manipulating you, Amora!"

"Excuse me?" I say, my voice growing low, "You don't know anything, Theodore. Don't you dare treat me like some weak little girl who can't think for herself. And what are you doing that's going to protect me from this, huh? This is so much bigger than you realize."

He clenches his jaw, processing my words for a moment. I could practically feel the steam of anger radiating off of him.

"Do you really want to fucking know?" he yells.

"Yes, please fucking enlighten me!" I raise my voice right back.

He holds out his left arm, roughly lifting up his sleeve. My eyes widened in shock, unable to tear my eyes from the ink that littered his skin.

"No..." I say quietly, lifting up a shaky hand to cover my mouth.

My heart dropped into my stomach, feeling sick. I couldn't believe it. He got the dark mark. I swallow the lump in my throat, my breath shallow. I gently grab his arm, feeling tears prick my eyes as they scan over the mark.

"Theo..." I whisper, looking up at him.

A small tear rolls down my cheek as he refuses to meet my gaze. He clenches his jaw, lip quivering slightly. I couldn't imagine what he's going through. He tried his best to hide it, but I could see right through his emotional turmoil.

I drop his arm, wrapping my arms behind his neck. He stands still for a moment before wrapping his arms around me, burying his face into my neck.

I could feel his soft sobs into my shoulder, his arms wound tightly around me. I run my fingers gently through his hair in a comforting manner.

"It's gonna be okay, I promise." I whisper in his ear.

———

Chapter 16

"You've been ignoring me."

~~~

December 8th, 1996

Ever since Theo showed me his mark, I've been avoiding Mattheo. I didn't know what to say– how to act. I can't even believe that I've put myself in this situation. I felt like an idiot. I stopped going to the Astronomy tower and the few times this week he showed up to class, I ignored him.

It felt as if this year of my life has been a never-ending sick joke. Like a horrible pit in my stomach that hasn't gone away, my brain is nothing but a swirl of conflicting emotions. But at this point, I didn't know how to feel.

Anyways, Theo and I haven't talked about what happened that night. Each time I bring it up, he brushes me off. I honestly believe it's because he hasn't come to terms with it; if he talks about it, it becomes too real. Truly I was just as scared for him as he is for me.

I sat in the common room on the couches, basking in the faint glow and warmth of the fireplace. I was journaling, a small habit I had begun to pick up. I feel like I've been hiding too many secrets from too many people, and it was starting to eat away at me. So alas, I was venting my feelings to a small leather book. Whatever helps I suppose.

It felt strange being put in such a situation, I've always been so open about details in my life before, but now it was the opposite. Especially with Pansy. I think this is the first time I've ever kept things from her.

I was going to tell her the truth eventually, when the time was right.

Right?

I felt like I was disappointing everyone, especially after Theo's reaction. Merlin, I couldn't even imagine what my mother would have to say. It truly did make me feel like a fool.

A sigh escapes my lips as I close the book in my lap, staring at the crackling fire for a moment. The boys had late Quidditch practice tonight and Pansy was in the library working on a project, which left me with some much needed alone time.

The common room was rather sparse, students either at Quidditch, studying, or at the party in the Hufflepuff common room. I place the book next to me, bringing my knees to my chest as I stare off into space, enjoying the cozy atmosphere.

I take a deep breath, staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace. The noise of the common room door slamming shut pulls me out of my trance, a few students chattering loudly as they walk up the staircase to their dorms.

I look up, meeting the eyes of the very man I had avoided like the damn plague. He had a book open in his hands, but he had his eyes fixed on me instead.

I stare back into his dark eyes for a moment before tearing them away, a scoff escaping my lips as I get up from my spot on the couch. I swiftly grab my things before turning on my heels, heading up the staircase to my dorm.

I unlock the door as quick as I can, stepping inside. A firm hand slams against the door, stopping me from closing it. I push as hard as I can but he pushes his way inside. I sigh in defeat, letting go of the door. I take a step back, crossing my arms over my chest as he closes the door behind him.

"You've been ignoring me." Mattheo states, mocking my stance as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Just fuck off, Riddle." I say, my voice dripping with irritation.

He lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly. I roll my eyes. This isn't fucking funny.

"Why?" he asks, cocking his head.

"Why what?" I scoff, "Why am I asking you to fuck off?"

He takes a step closer to me.

"Why are you ignoring me?" he asks, lowering his gaze at me.

I take in a deep breath, staying silent for a moment as my eyes wander the room, thinking of what I could exactly say to deflect this situation.

"I'm seriously not in the mood for this right now. Leave." I say sternly.

"Not until you answer my question, witch." he replies quickly, dropping his arms as he takes another step closer.

I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair before looking up at him. He was standing close, maybe too close for my comfort at this moment, but I stood my ground.

"Did you know Theo got the dark mark?" I question him, meeting his gaze.

He clenches his jaw, expression void of any emotion.

"Yes." he answers simply.

I felt a surge of anger run through me, as if he didn't understand the severity of it. I'm sure it was normalized for him, considering he is the Dark Lord's son, but I couldn't help a slight sense of betrayal growing inside me.

"How long." I ask, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

"It was weeks ago. I watched him get it." he says.

Motherfucker.

Deep down, I knew it wasn't his fault or choice, but I needed someone to blame. Someone to target my anger at.

"Are you kidding me?" I raise my voice at him. "After all this time, you never thought to mention that my best fucking friend is a secret Death Eater?"

He stays silent, his dark eyes watching me carefully as I vented out my frustrations.

"Do you have any idea what this even means for him?" I throw my arms in the air, "I thought you would at least have some damn respect enough for me to tell me when something like that happens!"

My heart was rapid in my chest as I began to pace as I went off on him. I stepped up to him, pointing my finger in his face.

"You're a goddamn asshole, Mattheo Riddle. To think I even started to trust you!" I shout.

He just stood there, his features void of any emotions. His jaw was clenched as he listened to my venting.

"What?" I scoff, "Say something!"

Tears of built up frustration and tension pricked my eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. My hands collide with his chest as I attempt to shove him, but he grabs my wrists. I fight against his grip, but to no avail.

"Calm the fuck down, witch." he hissed, his voice demanding.

I peer up at him, anger still burning in my eyes. I take in a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment as I attempt to regain my composure. It was then that I realized how close we were standing, chests almost touching.

I relax my tense muscles, matching my breathing to his as my heart begins to beat at a normal pace again. After a moment he drops my wrists as he reaches up, brushing away a stray tear that had fallen with his thumb. His touch lingers on my skin, caressing my cheek softly as I close my eyes for a moment, composing myself. As I open them back up, he drops his hand, but neither of us move.

"I didn't tell you because it wasn't my fucking business to tell." he says lowly, "And I knew how much it would hurt you. I didn't want to ruin the image of your perfect little best friend."

His eyes were dark, like I could feel them piercing my soul as he stared into my own. A few loose curls fall over his features. I shake off the uneasy feelings boiling inside me.

"I don't get it," I reply, shaking my head slightly, "you've never cared about me or my feelings. You would throw something like this in my face the first damn chance you got."

My face scrunches in confusion, I couldn't understand the switch up. What game is he trying to play? Because this is not the time.

"That's not true. Not about this." he says.

I let out a scoff, rolling my eyes as I turn my head away from him. His hand grasps my chin, forcing me to look back up at him as I swallow the lump in my throat.

"I'm serious, Amora." he adds, his voice low.

I stay silent for a moment, searching his eyes for any sort of deception or insincerity, but to my surprise, he didn't crack.

"I'm scared for him." I say, my voice breaking.

He swallows hard before clenching his jaw, like he was holding himself back from something, but still, his eyes never leave mine.

"I know." he replies, his voice much softer than I think I've ever heard from him.

His touch lingered on my skin as he still had a grip on my chin. His thumb brushes against my bottom lip, pushing the flesh softly. I didn't stop him, I didn't push him away. I stood there, gazing up at him. There was something so alluring.

A loud knock at the door snaps us both out of it. The person jiggles the doorknob rapidly before knocking again.

"Amora, why is the door locked?" Pansy's voice could be heard from outside the door.

My heart drops into my stomach at this little predicament.

"You have to go." I whisper quickly, taking a step away from him.

He gives me an unreadable look before Apparating, disappearing in thin air. I let out a sigh of relief, thanking Merlin that he even knew how to Apparate, but then again, that man is full of secrets and mysteries.

"I forgot my wand, Amora, please let me in." Pansy says, knocking a third time.

I unlock the door, pulling it open as she shoves her way inside. I laugh softly as I close the door behind her.

"Long day?" I ask, watching as she throws her book bag down before plopping on her bed.

"You could say that." she groans in return.

I take a seat at the edge of my bed, still facing her.

"So why did you lock the door? We never lock the door if we're home." she asks, resting her head against her palm as she looks over at me.

I let out a long sigh, biting the inside of my cheek nervously as I debate my options. I could come out and finally tell her the truth, or I could keep lying. And Merlin, I was sick and tired of all the lies.

"Pans, I have something to tell you." I say, fidgeting my bracelet nervously.

"What's wrong, Amora?" she questions.

She sits up a little straighter, her brows drawing together in worry and confusion.

I tell her everything. From Mattheo knowing about Miles to finding out about my father and Mattheo's task to sneaking out every night to what happened at the party up to just now. The only thing I kept out was the part about Theo becoming a Death Eater.

It all just spilled out. It was like a breath of fresh air, a weight lifted off my shoulders to finally be able to confide in someone about everything. Pansy was dumbfounded.

"Merlin, Amora." Pansy sighs, rubbing a hand against her temple.

"I know." I huff.

I roll over on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Pansy gets up from her bed, coming over to mine as she lays down next to me. She props herself up on her elbow as I turn my head to look at her.

"Listen, babe," she begins, "I'm going to tell you this because I love you, not because I'm judging you in any way. But you should stay away from him. Whether he's telling the truth or not about killing you, I don't see this ending well."

I take a deep breath as she brushes a few stray hairs away from my face.

"You know I've told myself the same thing so many times," I say, laughing slightly, "but I feel like I just can't escape him. I should be scared of him, but I'm not and I don't know how to process any of this."

She gives me a sympathetic smile, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she was holding herself back from saying something. Then again, I'm not sure if I'm exactly ready to hear it all.

"This year has just been such a shit show." I sigh.

"Don't I know it," she murmurs. "But I may have something to lift our spirits."

A small smirk grows on her lips as she gets up from my bed, grabbing her book bag. She shuffles through it before pulling out a joint sealed in a small plastic bag. She holds the bag and a zipper lighter up by her face, shooting me a cheeky grin.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" I say, returning a smile.

———

Chapter 17

"Did you bewitch me?"

~~~

December 11th, 1996

"The Everlasting Exlixirs can be used with legal limitations to never run out of a potion or to make its effects last... forever." Professor Snape's voice drawled on.

I rest my chin on my palm, staring off into space as my mind wanders. I tune out Snape's voice, wanting nothing more than to escape today's boring lesson.

Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my head, like a piercing sensation that rings in every corner of my mind. This feeling was familiar, one I'd felt before. I furrow my brows, my hand clutching the side of my head. Then it dawned on me.

This is exactly what it felt like when Mattheo used Legilimency on me. My head snaps in his direction next to me. He had a calm expression on his face, staring at the front of the classroom.

Is that the game you wanna play?

I use what he has taught me, forcing my mind to go blank, clearing my mind as I put up a mental shield. I watch him carefully, a smirk slowly growing on his lips as I block him out of my mind.

I roll my tongue against my cheek, in utter disbelief of this man. Snape dismisses the class, I quickly grab my bag, gathering my things.

"I'll see you tonight, witch." Mattheo whispers in my ear from behind me before briskly walking off.

I let out an audible scoff, rolling my eyes as I throw my bag over my shoulder. I'm sick and tired of his mind games. He's confusing the fuck out of me and he can't take a damn hint when I do my best to avoid him. So thats it, after tonight I'm done.

Theo catches up to me as I quickly head out of the classroom. He slings an arm around my shoulder, walking next to me.

"What's the rush, love?" he teases.

A small laugh escapes my lips, rolling my eyes before looking over at him.

"Just ready to get the hell out of there," I shrug, "Why? Miss me too much?"

"Don't you know it." he smirks in return.

We walk in silence for a few minutes as we make our way down the hall, towards charms. The hallways grow more sparse the further we go, more students dispersing where they're supposed to.

I lean my head on his shoulder for a moment before looking up at him. He notices my gaze, peering over at me with a small smirk on his lips.

"Hey, are you doing okay?" I speak up, "You know, with everything?"

His demeanor changes quickly, clearing his throat as his smirk fades. He turns his gaze away from me, facing forward.

"I'm fine." he replies plainly, still avoiding eye contact.

I give him a sympathetic smile before turning my attention ahead of us.

"You know if you ever need to talk about anything, I'm here." I add.

"There's nothing to talk about, Amora." he states.

I understand how hard of subject this is, but I need him to know that he's not alone in this.

"Just– keep it in mind, okay?" I say.

He drops his arm, running a hand through his hair.

"Alright." he sighs.

We approach the entrance to charms, I give his arm a comforting squeeze as I shoot him a smile before going our separate ways. Unfortunately Professor Flitwick has assigned seating.

Sometimes I even wonder why I'm attending school with everything going on in the Wizarding World. Darkness and danger is amongst us, and I have a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that this is just the beginning.

~~~

"I swear that old git only failed me because he has something against me." Theo says, shoving his fork into his mouth.

Blaise snorts out a laugh.

"No mate, he failed you because you're a dumbass." Blaise says.

"That makes you a dumbass too because I was copying your answers the whole time." Theo argues back.

Draco shakes his head, laughing as he covers his face with his hand.

"You do realize everyone gets a different ordered exam." I laugh.

Draco gives him a slap on the back, gaining his composure.

"Well done, Nott." he says.

Theo's jaw drops, a dumbfounded look on his face as if everything in the world finally made sense.

"Now why on Earth would they do that?" he scoffs.

"To prevent idiots like you from cheating." Pansy shoots him a smirk.

Theo rolls his eyes, slumping back in defeat as he crosses his arms over his chest. Draco wraps his arm around Pansy as she leans her head on his shoulder.

"I don't think I was cut out for school." Theo mutters.

"Clearly." Blaise chuckles in return.

"It's okay, Theo, not everyone can be smart." I smirk.

I take a bite out of my piece of bread as I look over at him. He scrunches his face together in confusion as he drops his arms.

"I don't know if I should feel comforted or insulted." he says.

I give him a shrug, my smile still lingering on my lips as I try not to laugh. This is what we all need. A bit of normalcy within the craziness that our lives were turning into.

My eyes trail up as they continue chatting back and forth, the ceiling of the Great Hall lit up with shining stars and floating candles amongst the dark sky. I think students always take for granted this beautiful castle. It wasn't just the physical beauty, it was the magic. Even growing up as a witch in a magical household, some aspects still never ceased to amaze me.

I watched as the stars danced along the enchanted ceiling, the glow of the moon shining through the faint clouds. It looked so real, as if I was really outside staring up at the sky.

"Earth to Amora." Pansy's voice snaps me out of my daze.

"Hmm?" I hum, returning my attention back to my friends.

Pansy laughs softly, shaking her head at me.

"I asked if you wanted to study for the potions exam with me later." she asks.

I think for a moment. I want to say yes, and Merlin knows I need to study, but there's a part of me that pushes me to go see Mattheo instead. After all, this would be the very last time. Or so I say.

He was like a magnet. Every time I try to push myself away, I just get drawn in closer.

"Sorry, Pans, I can't." I sigh, "I have an essay due tomorrow for Divination."

I hated lying to my friends, but I couldn't exactly tell them what had really been going on. It was an easy little white lie. Divination was an elective that only I was taking, so there was low risk of getting caught. I'll most likely tell Pansy later, but I didn't want anyone else to know.

You know you're doing something wrong when you can't even tell your best friends.

Call me crazy, or stupid, or both.

The rest of dinner goes by quickly, going back to the common room to hang for a bit before going our separate ways. It was only Monday, which meant everyone had a lot of school work to catch up on.

As soon as we got back to the dorm, Pansy grabbed her book bag and headed out for the library. I sat at the edge of my bed for a moment, doing some self reflection on what it was exactly that lead me to the position I was in. I mentally slapped myself for letting things go this far. I should have known better. In fact, I do know better. But I chose to ignore every flashing red flag that came my way.

My mind was simply a conflicting swirl of emotions. I don't know what to think, what to feel.

I take in a deep breath, pushing myself off the bed before leaving the dorm. I make my way out of the common room, taking the path I had grown so accustomed to. Ascending up the many stairs of the Astronomy Tower, I finally reach the top.

The air was cold, sending a chill down my spine. The moon cast a faint glow on the tower, enough to see clearly while still setting a dark atmosphere.

There he was, just as I had seen so many times before, leaning against the railing of the tower with a cigarette lit between his lips.

I fully step around the corner, approaching him with slow, careful steps. His lips curled into a small smirk as he noticed my arrival, taking one last long drag of his cigarette before putting it out. Silence still lingered upon us as I came closer, looking up at him for a moment before averting my eyes to the view from the tower. The castle was covered in a thin layer of snow, it was a beautiful sight.

I could practically feel his eyes burning into me, as if he was observing me. I take a deep breath before finally meeting his gaze.

"What am I doing here, Mattheo?" I speak up.

I feel something bubbling up inside me, an emotion I can't quite decipher. But it's there. And it makes me want to fucking explode.

"I don't get it, whats your endgame here?" I say, not even giving him a chance to answer my first question.

He clenches his jaw, his eyes searching mine for a moment.

"Did you bewitch me?" he questions, his voice low.

My face scrunches in confusion, a small laugh escaping my lips. Though the expression on his face tells me he's not joking.

"Excuse me?" I scoff.

He takes a quick step forward as I take a step back, pushing me up against the wall. I gasp softly, my spine colliding with the cold stone.

"Did you bewitch me." he snarls, his voice rough and demanding.

I look up at him, my heart beat quickening in my chest as I shake my head.

"I– I don't know what you're talking about." I say quickly.

My mind swirled with confusion, not understanding where this was coming from. He asked me here, remember.

"Don't you dare lie to me, witch." he snaps, his hand roughly gripping my chin.

"I'm not, I swear!" I reply defensively.

His face was dangerously close to mine as he held onto my chin, looking down at me with a clenched jaw. My heart was pounding out of my chest as he stayed silent for a brief moment. I could feel his breath fan across my face.

"Then why is it that I cannot get rid of you, Amora Sinclair." he says, his voice growing faint, almost to a whisper.

My mouth falls open slightly in shock, as if I didn't believe what I was hearing. His thumb sweeps gently over my bottom lip.

"I can't fucking get you out of my head." he adds, his hand trailing down to grip my jaw as the other holds onto my waist.

His eyes flicker to my lips, his presence looming over me, clouding my senses.

"Mattheo..." I whisper, unable to tear my eyes from his.

Before I knew it, his lips were on mine, attacking mine in a firey embrace. To my suprise, I kissed him back.

I could finally let go of every pent up emotion, every glance, every argument, every moment of tension was poured into this kiss.

I wrap my arm behind his neck, pulling him closer as my other hand caresses the side of his face softly. Our lips moved together in sync, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

How could something so wrong feel so right?

He pulls away briefly, panting softly as his eyes meet mine once again. My heart hammered in my chest as I caught my breath.

"I thought you hated me." he says, his voice raspy.

"I could never hate you." I reply.

I could feel his hot breath fanning across my face, unable to tear my eyes from his as my body yearns for more.

"Good." he mutters before smashing his lips back against mine.

His grip moves to my neck, wrapping his hand around my throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. I part my lips, allowing his tongue to slip through as it explores my mouth. Things get heated quickly, our lips moving in unison in a messy, passionate kiss. I tug on his hair gently, earning a groan to escape his lips, drowned out by my own.

I was unavoidably consumed by him, his body pressed against mine in our embrace. He kissed me with such need, such lust, I simply melted at his finger tips.

He pulls away suddenly, pushing himself away from me. He runs a rough hand through his curls, pacing back and forth. I watch him with confusion, my breath heavy as I'm unable to move from my spot against the wall.

He finally stops after a moment, facing away from me.

"Leave." he speaks up, his voice stern and demanding.

My brows furrow in confusion, taken aback to everything that had just unfolded.

"Mattheo I–"

"I said leave." he barks.

He finally turns back towards me, his eyes darken as he watches me carefully. My gaze lingers on his for a moment before letting out a scoff, shaking my head softly as I quickly turn and leave, my mind racing.

What have I just done?

———

Chapter 18

"I could never kill you, Amora Sinclair."

~~~

December 17th, 1997

Everything happened so quickly. It's been days, and I still don't think I've fully processed it, not that I've had much time with all the schoolwork I've had. Winter break was quickly approaching, meaning professors were trying to cram in as many exams and assignments as possible. I couldn't wait to go back home for the holidays. As much as I love it at Hogwarts, I needed a break from it all.

So what happens when you kiss the man who's been tasked to kill you exactly?

Avoidance.

That's what.

I knew I had to talk to him. I wanted to talk to him. But I had to stay away for a bit and gather my thoughts. Not that I've even seen him around. He hasn't shown up to potions class since. I knew where I could probably find him, but I haven't gone. Not yet at least.

We've crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed.

I shouldn't feel the way I do. Especially for him.

I wonder if he's as perplexed as I am. Or if this is all a part of his master manipulation plan to kill me and find my mother. I don't know what to believe. I'm sick of the games. I suppose the only way to find out is to go see him.

A sigh escapes my lips as I set my quill back in its ink pot before tucking my journal away in my desk drawer. I turn around in my chair, facing Pansy.

"What in Merlin's name do you keep writing in that book?" Pansy questions.

She sets her book bag down before taking a seat at the edge of her bed.

"Just my thoughts," I shrug, "It helps me vent."

"Whatever helps you, babe." she laughs softly, shaking her head.

I rest my chin on my palm, rolling my eyes in a joking manner.

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it." I add.

A loud knock on the door grabs both our attentions, heads turning. Just then, Theo, Draco, and Blaise come busting through the door.

"Well just come on in why don't you?" I say, amusement in my voice.

"At least I knocked," Theo replies, "that was warning enough."

I shake my head at him, getting up as he approaches me. I wrap my arms behind his neck, giving him a tight embrace as he does the same.

"Alright lovebirds, that's enough." Blaise says.

I laugh softly, ruffling Theo's hair before pulling away.

"Aww Blaisey, don't be jealous." I tease.

"Oh jealous am I?" He cocks.

I give Blaise a hug as well before pulling away, taking a seat on floor at the end of my bed. Theo follows, taking a seat next to me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders, followed by Pansy, Draco, and Blaise.

Given that we were leaving for break in a few short days, it was merely tradition that we all smoke a joint together.

Pansy pulls out a zippo lighter as well as a small plastic bag, a perfectly rolled joint sitting inside. She puts the joint between her lips, lighting the end of it as she takes a long hit, puffing out the smoke.

She plucks it from her mouth, a sharp cough following as she passes the joint to Draco.

"Easy there, Pans." Theo teases.

"Oh shut it, Theodore." Pansy rolls her eyes.

She takes Draco's arm, wrapping it around her shoulders as Draco takes a deep hit. The joint follows in our circle, taking turns of hits until it was nothing but a roach.

I lean my head against Theo's shoulder, feeling the strong effects of the joint as I fall into a laughing fit at something Blaise had said.

"Merlin, I'm going to miss you guys over break." I say, wiping my eyes as I slowly stop laughing so much.

"See you bitches at New Years!" Pansy exclaims, resting her head against Draco's shoulder.

We wrap things up for the night as it was getting quite late and it was a Monday night, meaning a quick snap back to reality would hit in the morning. It was nice to relax for a bit, the stress of both exams and the entire Mattheo situation was eating away at me.

I tossed and turned in my bed that night, letting my intoxicated mind wander at the different possible outcomes. I couldn't understand why he lingered in my mind, as if there was a little voice that was constantly reminding me of his existence. His mere presence drove me insane. I hated it. I hate the effect he so easily had on me. I was crumbling apart because of him. Or for him.

I will talk to him. I have to before I go back home. Just not tonight.

I take a deep breath, peering over at Pansy who was fast asleep under her covers. I silently open the drawer of my night stand, pulling out my emergency bottle of dreamless sleep. It was rare occasions where I would find myself unable to sleep, unable to rest my mind. I drink down the small vile before placing it back in its confines.

I lay back against my pillows, feeling drowsiness consume my senses as I close my eyes, drifting into a deep, dreamless rest.

~~~

"I'm just saying I think I aced it." Theo says, taking a bite from his plate.

We had just finished the History of Magic exam, now eating lunch in the Great Hall. I rest my head against my palm, my tired eyes meeting his. I hated taking dreamless sleep. It makes me feel so out of touch with myself in the next day.

"If that class didn't have such a bore of a professor, I think I would actually enjoy it." I sigh.

Professor Binns, while he is a nice ghost, he's bloody ancient. His lessons are enough to put just about anyone to sleep.

"Sounds like someone is jealous they didn't do as good as I did." Theo teases, a small smirk growing on his lips.

"Oh please," I roll my eyes at him in a playful manner, "I did just fine, thank you very much."

I take a sip of my coffee, holding the warm mug between my hands.

"You both need to stop your bickering, its nauseating." Blaise interjects, shoving his fork into his mouth.

"Someones a bit grumpy this morning." Theo mutters, earning an eye roll from Blaise.

My mind begins to wander off as the boys join in their own banter, my eyes dancing around the room as I tune out their voices. My gaze fixed on the door to the Great Hall, small groups of students coming in and out chattering about the excitement of winter break.

As if on cue, the infamous curly brunette walked through the doors with a stern expression. My eyes locked on his for a moment, feeling my heart begin to hammer in my chest. I swiftly looked away, bringing myself back into reality.

I could feel his gaze practically burning into my back as I ran a nervous hand through my hair. I didn't dare look back at him.

"You alright there, Amora?" Theo nudges my shoulder.

"I'm fine," I give him a reassuring smile, "Just a bit tired thats all."

He wasn't convinced. He knew me better than that. Sometimes I've felt that he knows me better than I know myself. It was comforting at times, but utterly annoying at others.

He was able to read me like a damn book.

"Right.." he says, a skeptical look on his features.

"Promise." I reassure him.

I felt watched, my every movement being observed. I couldn't look back. I didn't want to face him, my mind was screaming at me to get the hell out of there but every other cell in my body craved for me to meet his alluring gaze.

I turn my attention back towards my friends, shaking off whatever uneasy feelings were growing inside me.

"So what're your guys' plans for break?" I ask, changing the topic of conversation.

"My mum's boyfriend is taking her and I to France over Christmas, but we'll be back before New Years, don't worry." Blaise replies with a smirk.

Mrs. Zabini is a beautiful, kind woman who had been unlucky in love. She's had many of husbands over the years whom always seemed to disappear or die under strange circumstances, making her out to be quite the scandalous woman in the Wizarding World. But she loved her son, she would give up anything to ensure his happiness or safety. I admired that.

"Well, my father is dragging me to visit our family in Italy after the holidays." Theo says, a hint of irritation in his voice.

I give him a sympathetic look, knowing it was not an ideal situation for him. Both his parents had family in Italy, but ever since his mother died, he's hated going. And I don't blame him.

"What about you, sweetheart?" Theo asks, taking a sip from his cup.

"Its's just me and mum for the most part," I sigh, "Think my grandparents might be coming for Christmas though." I grumble the last part.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mother's parents, but my fathers side? Merlin help me. I only saw them once a year, usually at Christmas, but that was plenty for me. I never felt accepted by them as their granddaughter, like I was a huge disappointment to them.

But I'll worry about that later, its nothing I haven't dealt with before.

"Well, looks like we'll be having an interesting holiday," Theo drawls, "Meanwhile Blaise here is going to be vacationing in luxury."

"Who's the jealous one now, Nott?" Blaise teases.

I roll my eyes at them both, a small smile lingering on my lips.

"Oh shut it, both of you." I laugh softly.

Theo nudges my shoulder as I give him a warning look in return.

"Do either of you know where Malfoy and Pansy are?" Blaise questions.

Theo gives him a shrug, barely paying attention as he shoves in another bite of food.

"They're at Draco's dorm, getting in as much alone time as they can before we leave," I reply, "If you know what I mean."

Both boys let out a chuckle, shaking their heads slightly.

"Yeah because who needs lunch when you can get a mouth full of c–"

"Theodore Nott, don't you dare finish that sentence." I scold lightly. He throws his hands up defensively as I give his arm a playful slap.

"Merlin, you're a dirty boy, Nott." Blaise laughs.

I laugh along with him, shaking my head at the both of them.

"Can't believe I associate with either of you." I joke. I grab my bag, throwing it over my shoulder as I stand up from my seat.

"Oh please, darling, you love us." Theo teases.

I roll my eyes in a playful manner, a smirk still playing on my lips as I adjust my bag, taking a few small steps back.

"In your dreams, Theodore." I say, turning around as I start walking out of the Great Hall.

~~~

The rest of the day flew by, even through the rest of my boring lessons and exams. All because of how much I dreaded what I knew I had to do. I can't avoid the situation any longer. It was quite literally driving me to insanity. I mean at least if it all goes wrong I won't have to see him for a few weeks, right? Or maybe never again.

No. I don't want that.

Merlin, what am I even thinking?

I let out a sigh, running a frustrated hand through my hair. The mind games. The confusion. The emotions. It was all too much.

I take one last glance in the mirror, dark spots evident under my eyes as an obvious sign of my lack of sleep. It feels like all this week I haven't had a good night of rest. I touch up my eyeliner, trying to draw attention away from the obvious.

My eyes linger on my reflection, swallowing the lump in my throat as I build up the courage to leave the comforting confines of my dorm. I take in a deep breath, trying to steady my increasing heart rate as I turn on my heels, finally heading out.

I walk quickly through the common room and down the halls, the dimly lit corridors rather empty tonight. The cold air nipped at my skin, but my adrenaline kept me warm enough.

I reach the top of the Astronomy tower, stopping for a moment to think before turning the corner.

Of course he was here.

Of course.

He was faced away from me, leaning over the railing of the tower with a cigarette dangling between his fingers. The stars and the moon shone brightly, perfectly highlighting his curls and whatever features I could see from behind. I approached him carefully, taking slow steps.

"I knew you'd come, witch." he speaks up before bringing the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply.

I watch the swirls and spirals of smoke escape his mouth as I stop in my tracks, only a few feet from him.

"What made you so sure?" I ask, my voice soft.

He lets out a chuckle, stubbing out the cigarette on the railing, watching as the bud and ashes fall to the ground.

"I know you better than you think, Amora." he states.

I bite the inside of my cheek as I take a step closer, my eyes shifting to the sight of the night sky for a brief moment. He turns around, leaning his back against the railing as I look back at him, my gaze locking onto his.

His deep brown eyes were intoxicating, a small sparkle among the darkness. I cross my arms over my chest as he cocks his head at me.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I scoff, taking a step closer to him.

He raises his eyebrows at me, his expression both surprised and amused. Of course he would find this funny.

"Excuse me?" he questions. He pushes himself off the railing, taking a step towards me as he closes the gap between us.

"Oh don't act stupid, Riddle," I say, "You kiss me and demand me to leave and then act like nothing even happened? What the fuck is that?"

My voice was laced with a kind of desperation that I hadn't noticed before. His eyes were glued to mine, darkening as he listened to my words. He stays quiet for a moment before replying.

"What is it exactly that you want me to say, Amora?" he asks, his voice low as he clenches his jaw.

"I want you to be honest for once. Tell me the goddamn truth." I reply. "Tell me how you feel, Mattheo."

I felt a pit of anger growing inside me, knowing that he knew exactly what this was doing to me, but it seemed as if he didn't care. My hand ball into fists at my side, my nails digging into the skin on my palms.

He lets out a dark laugh, shaking his head slightly. My heart sinks in my chest at his actions, every second growing me closer to snapping.

"How I feel?" he scoffs, "I don't. I'm fucking incapable of feeling anything, Amora, you know that."

I shake my head as I look up at him, my eyebrows furrowing as I refuse to accept what he was telling me.

"Did you think you could change that?" he continues, lowering his gaze, "Did you think I could care about you? Love you? Well I can't."

"I don't believe you." I reply.

His expression darkens, a small chill rolling down my spine in return.

"You were just telling me how you couldn't get me out of your head, Mattheo. I know this means something. I know I mean something to you." I say.

He breaks his gaze, turning his head as he runs a hand through his curls. The tension in the air was thick, enough to cut through with a knife. His chest moved up and down quickly as he met my eyes once again.

"You're wrong." he states simply.

I let out a scoff in return, shaking my head at him. My heart beat quickened in my chest, as his words made something inside me turn, suddenly feeling bolder than before.

I couldn't take it anymore. He was lying to himself and he was lying to me.

"Really?" I question quietly, "Merlin, if you don't fucking care about me then why haven't you killed me yet, huh?" My voice grows louder, more demanding.

He stays silent, clenching his jaw as he watches me carefully.

"Nothing to say?" I scoff, "Why don't you do it, Mattheo? Just bloody kill me already and get it over with then!"

Before I could think, my hands collide with his chest in one quick moment, shoving him with everything I had– all the pent up anger, frustration, confusion, and something much darker. He doesn't falter, his hands swiftly grabbing my wrists in a vice-like grip. I fight against him to no avail, feeling tears of frustration prick my eyes.

I eventually stop fighting as he keeps his hold on my wrists, holding me against his chest as I look up at him, my chest heaving against his. Maybe this was it, maybe I had finally pushed him too far and I was going to finally meet my fate.

My eyes flickered between his, feeling the complex frustration and emotional turmoil swirling in his gaze. I swallow the lump in my throat, shallow breaths escaping my lips.

It was then that I noticed how close we were, our faces mere inches from each other. His eyes trailed down before meeting mine once again, the silence serving as a deafening reminder of our situation.

In one swift movement he smashes his lips against mine, letting go of my wrists as one hand lands on the side of my face, the other trailing down to grip my waist, pulling me flush against him.

Our lips move together in unison, pouring every suppressed emotion into a deep, passionate kiss. My hand moves up to caress the side of his face softly, the other gripping onto his shirt as if letting go would make him disappear.

He moves his grip, his hand wrapping around my neck gently. The kiss was slow, deliberate movements that drove both of us insane, knowing this very moment would change everything between us. My body melts against his touch, molding together perfectly.

He pulls away slowly, his lips grazing against mine for a moment as I felt his heavy breath fan across my face, but he doesn't let go. His eyes bore into mine as he speaks, his voice low and careful.

"I could never kill you, Amora Sinclair."

My breath catches in my throat, nodding softly as I stare up at him. My eyes search his face, desperate for something, anything that explains how he feels.

"Then why?" I ask, cutting through the silence, "Why do you act like you don't care? Like I mean nothing?"

He looks away, clenching his jaw as he tightens his grip around me before letting go. The loss of his touch is immediate, a cold rush of air replacing the warmth of his body against mine. He takes a few steps back, shaking his head as he runs a conflicted hand through his hair.

"No, Mattheo," I shake my head, stepping towards him as I reach out, my hand grasping his arm, "Don't do that. Don't push me away. You keep saying that you can't feel, but you're lying to yourself and you're lying to me."

His arm tenses under my touch as he meets my gaze, his expression unreadable. He lets out a sharp exhale.

"Amora–"

"Tell me. Tell me you don't care, and I will walk away right now." I say.

Silence hung over us, a heavy, suffocating silence. His chest moves up and down quickly, his dark eyes flickering with emotion as if something was fighting to break free.

Then, he finally snaps.

His body works before his mind does, his hands grasping my waist as he backs me up until my spine meets the cold stone wall. He leans his head down slightly, our faces inches apart.

"You think I don't care?" he utters, his voice hoarse and his breath ragged, "I've spent every single moment trying not to care."

He lets out a bitter laugh, coming deep from his chest.

"I have tried so fucking hard to convince myself that this– you– mean nothing to me." he says, "But it does. You do, and it's killing me, Amora."

The confession spills from his lips, like something that has clawed its way through him. His grip on my waist tightens as I keep my eyes glued to his, in utter shock.

"I feel everything when it comes to you. And it scares the hell out of me because I don't know how to give you what you need." he sighs, his face scrunching together.

"Mattheo..." I whisper.

My voice falters, my eyes flickering between his in a swirl of every pent up emotion that had just come flooding out. He reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as his thumb brushes against my cheek.

"I'm not a good person, Amora. I don't know how to love." his voice cracks slightly, raw with emotion, "I ruin everything I touch. I know I should let you go and walk away, but I don't think i can."

His hand trails down, ghosting along my jaw before lifting up my chin.

"Tell me to leave," he whispers, our lips nearly touching, "Tell me to walk away and I will."

Silence hangs over both of us for a moment, my heart beating out of my chest as I process everything that had just occurred.

I close the space between us, pressing my lips against his, and for a moment he doesn't move– as if we wasn't expecting me to choose him. Then, something inside him finally breaks.

In one swift moment, his hand flies into my hair, entangling itself as he deepens the kiss, his other hand squeezing my waist. The kiss was far from gentle or careful– it was full of raw desire, pouring every unspoken emotion into a single action.

My breath leaves my body, his mere presence setting my lungs on fire. As if even possible, I pull him closer to my body, one hand gripping his shirt as the other settles along his jaw. He clings onto me, as if I would disappear if he let go.

Nothing else mattered in that moment, the whole world fading away. It was just us. And for the first time, Mattheo didn't pull away.

I run my hand through his curls, a low groan escaping from his chest. There's a faint trace of cigarettes lingering on his breath, but there's something more– something that makes me crave him more than I ever thought possible.

I pull away for a brief moment, panting softly as I catch my breath. His eyes burn into mine, chest moving up and down quickly. I swallow hard, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Stay, Mattheo."

———

Chapter 19

"I see the way he looks at you, Amora Marie. The eyes don't lie."

~~~

"Baby, I'm going to miss you so much," Pansy says, her arms wrapped tightly around me.

I laugh softly, hugging her back just as tightly. We just got off the Hogwarts Express and are now waiting for our parents. The bustling sound of students lugging their trunks around, reunions of parents with their children filling my ears.

"Pans, we only live a few minutes from each other." I giggle in her ear.

She pulls away from the tight embrace, hands still gripping my arms as she faces me.

"Oh, but it's not the same," she pouts, "I'm not going to be seeing your beautiful face every day. Plus, who is going to keep me sane while dealing with my crazy family?"

"Trust me, I get it." I huff, "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I'm only a short broom ride away if you need anything."

Her expression softens, a small smile growing on her lips as she pulls me into another short, tight embrace before letting go. She spots her parents slipping through the entrance to the platform, muttering a quick goodbye before heading in their direction.

As much as I was looking forward to break, I was going to miss seeing my favorite people every day. I just have to remember that it's only a few weeks. Though I did absolutely dread the family aspect of Christmas break. A few days, that it. I only have to deal with them for a few days.

"Thought you were going to leave without saying goodbye?" Theo's voice chimes in behind me.

I turn around to face him, a big grin plastered on my face. I wrap my arms behind his neck in a warm embrace as he wraps his arms around my waist.

"Merlin, I wouldn't dream of it." I tease, whispering in his ear.

Theo's arms feel warm and familiar around me, like home in a way I don't always know how to explain. He lets out a small chuckle, holding onto each other for a long moment before finally pulling away.

"What ever am I going to do without you, Theodore?" I question, looking up at him with a sad smile.

"Oh, you'll be lost." he smirks, "But don't worry, it'll be over before you know it."

I roll my eyes in a playful manner, shaking my head softly at him.

"Hm." I hum, "That is if I survive this weekend with my grandparents."

His lips curl into a small sympathetic frown, knowing all too well about how it feels to have family members like that. He has also gotten too many glimpses of how my grandparents treat me.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Amora." he says, his voice full of sincerity.

I shrug, trying to downplay how much I dreaded the encounters, but I can feel the weight of my words hanging in the air. Like I said before, just a few days, that's all I had to endure.

If I don't lose my bloody mind by then.

"It's alright," I sigh, "Nothing I haven't done before, right?"

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, giving me an all-knowing smile. His expression was soft, giving me a source of comfort that only he was capable of.

"Haven't we both." he chuckles, "But I will be there to bail you out in a second, you know that."

I nod as I peer up at him, my smile returning.

"You have your own shit to worry about, Theo. I'll be alright." I say.

"I know you will, baby." he replies.

My eyes trail away from Theo's, spotting my mother in the crowd of people. Her eyes scan the crowd before settling on mine, a bright, warm smile spreading across her features. She pushes her way through the groups of students and parents, approaching Theo and I.

"Hi, mum." I greet her.

"Oh darling, I missed you so much." she says, wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace.

I return the hug with the same intensity, the familiar scent of her perfume– a mix of lavender and vanilla fills my senses.

"I missed you too, mum." I mutter into her shoulder, the anxiety in my chest slowly starting to disappear.

She gives me one last squeeze before pulling away, turning her attention towards Theo. Her long, dark, wavy hair lay just above her waist, her bright blue eyes giving me the familiar feeling of home.

"Theodore, sweetie, always a pleasure to see you." she says, holding out her arms to give him a hug as well.

She pulls him into a short embrace before pulling away.

"Been keeping my daughter out of trouble I hope?" she questions, a false sense of sterness lingering in her eyes with a playful expression.

Theo chuckles, a smirk growing on his lips.

"I try my best, Mrs. Sinclair, but she is a handful." he teases.

I roll my eyes at him, swatting at his arm.

"I am not." I say.

He gives me a small shrug, his grin only widening at my reaction.

"Mhm. Not at all." he replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

I shoot him a look as he lets out a small laugh, finding amusement in calling me out in front of my mother.

"So how was school this semester?" Fiona asks.

What a weighted question. Where do I even begin? Getting cheated on, finding out the truth about my father, falling for a man who told me his task was to kill me– shall I go on?

"Eventful to say the least, right Amora?" Theo replies, shooting me a look.

I roll my eyes at him again, my mind swirling with the memories of the last few months. I still wasn't exactly sure what I was and was not going to tell my mother.

"You can say that again." I mutter under my breath.

"Well, I want to hear about every detail as soon as we get home, alright?" Fiona replies.

I nod, turning back to Theo with a sad smile, a bittersweet pang hitting my chest. It was time. I wrap my arms around him, giving him one last hug.

"See you at New Years, yeah?" he mumbles, placing a kiss on top of my head.

I pull away, swallowing the lump forming in my throat as I look up at him.

"See you at New Years." I repeat.

My mother watches us with a quiet understanding, a small smile dancing on her lips.

"Don't let them get to you, Amora." Theo reminds me.

"I won't, promise." I assure him, knowing it wasn't that simple.

With a deep breath, I sling my bag over my shoulder, my mother helps me grab my other belongings, ready to return back home. I turn back one last time, my eyes locking on Theo's. I give him one final wave before Fiona and I make our way off the platform.

"So, you and Theodore...?" Fiona questions as we walk towards the floo networks, just out of earshot.

I could tell exactly what she was hinting at. She has always looked far into our friendship, trying to grasp onto the possibility of us being something more. Even if she has never outright said it, I think she has always rooted for us.

"Its not like that, mum." I sigh, "We're just friends."

She shrugs, looking over at me with a small smirk tugging at her lips.

"I see the way he looks at you, Amora Marie. The eyes don't lie." She says.

I shake my head in return as we finally reach the networks. She always did this– finding some spiritual spin to make her point, especially when it came to Theo and me.

We step into the large concrete fireplace, each grabbing a handful of floo powder.

"Sinclair Manor." Fiona states, loud and clear.

We toss the white substance on the floor, being engulfed into green flames. In a mere second, we arrived at my family's manor, the familiar aroma of home flooding my senses. I let out a sigh, stepping out of the fireplace as I set my bags down.

"Good to be home." I huff, taking a seat on the couch.

Fiona waves her wand, lighting the fireplace as the warmth of the flames dance across my skin. She goes to the kitchen, coming back a few minutes later with two fresh mugs of hot tea. She hands me one of the cups before settling herself on the couch across from mine. I take a sip, the earthy taste lingering on my tongue as I hold the warm mug between my hands.

"So, tell me everything." she says.

She rests her elbow on the arm of the couch, pulling legs up to her side in a more comfortable position. A soft laugh escapes me as I glance down at my mug, collecting my thoughts for a moment.

"Merlin, where to do I even begin?" I reply, more of a question to myself, "Well classes have been going fairly well, its been a big work load, but I'm passing all of them. Exceeding at potions of course."

She nods, listening intently as I go on about the last few months. We had kept in touch, writing letters back and forth, but theres so many details you leave out. So many things that are better said in person.

"I had a boyfriend, his name was Miles, but that didn't end well." I add, getting into the more interesting details, "Oh and Astoria and I are no longer friends."

Fiona frowns at my words, likely putting two and two together. She always liked Astoria, she didn't know her as well as she does Theo and Pansy, but always thought she was a nice girl who just had some trouble at home.

"Oh honey, why not?" she asks, her voiced laced with sympathy.

A sigh escapes my lips, running a hand through my hair as I recall every dirty little detail of that fateful night.

"She was hooking up with Miles throughout our entire relationship." I say, clenching my jaw.

The words still had a bitter taste, even if it had been a few months. That kind of betrayal stays with you. Her expression softens, feeling a sense of both anger and sadness on my behalf.

"Oh Amora..." she mutters.

I nod, swallowing hard as I grip the mug tighter in my hands.

"Yeah," I sigh, "It's been a rough semester."

I pause for a moment, thinking carefully about what I was about to say. The silence was comforting, the subtle sound of the fire crackling as I could hear the faint wind blowing against the manor's windows.

"But there is someone else now..." I trail off.

She raises her eyebrows, her lips growing into a sly smile. The glint in her eyes was unmistakable– playful, intrigued, and maybe even a bit of mischief.

"Oh?" she perks up, taking a sip from her own mug, "Now this is interesting."

I roll my eyes at her reaction in a playful manner, shaking my head slightly as a smirk tugs at my lips.

"It's complicated– very, very complicated." I admit.

Her smile only widens as she adjusts her position on the couch.

"The best stories always are." Fiona replies.

She gives me that look– the look only mothers can give you. The one that tells you that they understand exactly what you're going through. Maybe they've lived through it, or maybe they just get it.

Though in this case, I think she has been in my exact shoes.

"So tell me," I start, "What's your story with dad?"

She takes a slow, deep breath, running a hand through her dark waves as she gathers her thoughts for a moment. She knows exactly what I mean– the story I really want to hear. Neither of us have to actually say it.

"Charles was the love of my life," she finally sighs, her voice steady but laced with something so much heavier, "But he wasn't the first."

I watch her intently, her expression and body language shifting as she reopens the deep wound that never quite healed.

"I knew him as Tom back then, though now he goes by a much more dangerous facade. We met just as I had graduated from Hogwarts." she pauses for a moment, "He was a charming man, in a way that wasn't exactly natural. Every move he made was careful, calculated. There was an aura of darkness around him, one that brought such mystery and surprise that lured me in like a magnet."

I nod, listening carefully to her story.

"I was with him for seven years. Tom was following a dark path, one that began to frighten me more than anything. Eventually the darkness swallowed everything– I didn't know what he was capable of anymore. So I left." she takes a sip from her mug before continuing, "That's when I reconnected with your father. I sought refuge in him and he accepted me with open arms. I chose Charles."

I feel my heart sink into my chest, knowing what was coming next.

"When Tom found out, he was furious. He retaliated against me in the only way he knew how. To inflict pain." she goes on, "He placed a curse on Charles that after seven years, he would die a slow, painful death. He took everything from me because I betrayed him."

I could feel the pain in her voice– the grief, heartbreak, anger. But deep down there was something much worse. Guilt. Her eyes stare into the fire, as if seeing the story play out in the flames.

"It's not your fault, mum." I say, my voice in a softer tone as my heart sinks into my stomach. "You can't blame yourself."

She nods slowly, eyes finally meeting mine once again as she presses her lips together in a fine line.

"I can't help it," she sighs, tears pricking her eyes, "I can't help but think that I could have stopped it. That if I hadn't run to him, he would still be here."

I get up from my spot on the couch, setting my mug on the coffee table as I go sit next to her, giving her a comforting, short embrace before pulling away. I give her a sad, sympathetic smile. I never blamed her. Even knowing the truth, I could never think it was her fault. No matter how angry or upset I was.

I need her to know that.

She returns my expression, grasping my hand as she runs her thumb over the back of my hand. She takes a deep breath, calming herself before speaking up again.

"With everything happening in the Wizarding World right now, with the Dark Lord on the rise again," she pauses for a moment, her eyes piercing into mine, "I can't help but fear that he's going to go after you too. And I can't lose you, Amora."

I swallow hard, feeling a sense of guilt and shame brewing in my chest as her words echo in my mind. Merlin, if she only knew.

"I'll be alright, mum," I try to reassure her. "I promise."

But even as the words spill from my lips, they taste like a lie.

———

Chapter 20

"Merry Christmas..."

~~~

"Amora Marie, come downstairs," I hear my mother's voice calling out. "We have company!"

An audible groan escapes my lips, running a hand through my hair as I already dread whatever– or whoever– awaits me downstairs. I take one last look in the mirror, leaning in to fix the corner of my eyeliner. I stare into my reflection for a moment, painting on a fake smile before leaving my room.

I head down the spiral staircase that leads to the front of the house, the soft hum of voices growing clearer. I reach the bottom step, smoothing out my sweater before stepping into the living room.

I let out a small sigh, seeing that it is only my mother's mother.

"Hi Nan," I greet, a sincere smile tugging at my lips as I hold out my arms to hug her.

She turns around, her eyes brighten instantly as a warm smile grows on her lips.

"Amora, sweetheart, it's so good to see you," she exclaims.

She holds me in a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around me like a warm blanket. After a moment she pulls away slightly, still holding onto my arms as her eyes study me.

"Goodness, you just get more and more beautiful each time I see you." she adds.

"You say that everytime, Nan." I laugh softly.

She shoots me a smile, giving my arms a small squeeze before letting go.

"Well, it's true!" she hums, a small glint in her eyes. "Now sit darling, tell me everything you have been up to."

She gestures towards the couch, urging me to sit with her. I take a seat on one side of the couch as she sits on the other, turned towards each other.

Merlin, theres so much I could say, but not much I actually want to discuss. She looks at me expectantly, folding her hands in her lap as she waits for me to speak. I swallow hard, finally meeting her gaze.

"Schools been... busy." I allude, trying to find the safest answer.

She raises her brow, giving me a skeptical look. Nan could always see right through my bullshit, making it impossible to lie to her. It's like she had some sort of psychic sense.

"Busy emotionally?" she questions, "Or busy as in drowning in coursework?"

"Both." I sigh, sinking lower into the couch.

Nan hums knowingly, eyes staring into mine as if she could read me, waiting patiently for me to elaborate.

"It's just been a lot," I start. "School, people, everything."

She nods softly, taking a sip from her wine glass.

"Is there a particular 'everything' you're referring to?" she lowers her eyes at me.

I let out a small laugh, nodding my head. Her voice is smooth, a comforting tone that always leads to me spilling my secrets.

"Of course there is," I take in a sharp breath. "It's such a complicated situation– I don't even know where to begin."

Her lips curl into a small, knowing smile, her eyes lingering on me as she stays silent for a moment.

"You remind me a lot of your mother when she was your age." she says suddenly.

I look at her curiously, raising my brows.

"How so?" I question.

She laughs softly, shaking her head slightly. She takes another sip from her glass before setting it on the coffee table in front of us.

"Well to start, you look just like her." she begins, "Except for the eyes– you have your fathers eyes."

I give her a small smile as she ponders for a moment, her eyes studying me. She reaches over, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear in a loving manner.

"You carry yourself the same way she did," she says, her voice laced with a hint of nostalgia. "Strong, carrying the weight of everyones problems on your shoulders and only opening up when you think no ones listening. But I saw it all– heard it all. Just like I do with you."

I chuckle softly, shifting in my seat. There were so many parallels between my mother and I, both in personality and in our stories. I guess I wasn't the only one who noticed. Like mother like daughter I suppose.

"She was also just as stubborn as you are." Nan laughs, tilting her head to the side slightly. "Is it a boy?" she asks knowingly.

There was no judgement in her voice, only pure curiosity. She gives me that same look my mother does, that one that tells you she knows exactly what you're thinking without having to say anything.

"Yeah," I nod, letting out a small sigh, "it is."

"Tell me about him." she insists, picking up her wine glass, holding it in her hands.

I let out a small laugh, but it lacks any humor behind it. How do I explain Mattheo? Especially when I can barely wrap my own mind around it.

"Well, he's..." I pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Difficult."

She takes a sip from the glass, her eyes urging me to go on.

"He's everything I shouldn't want, but it's like I'm being pulled to him," I say quietly. "He makes me feel everything. And I don't know if it's a good thing or if I should run in the opposite direction."

It felt like a weight being lifted off my chest, finally being able to talk to someone about it. I still hadn't told Pansy the extent of whats been going on, and Merlin knows I couldn't tell Theo or my mother.

She hums softly, placing her glass back on the table before folding her hands comfortably in her lap. She leans in slightly, her eyes filled with understanding.

"The kind of boy that sets your heart on fire but leaves you wondering if you'll come out of it unscathed." she says, a small smile tugging at her lips.

I nod, pursing my lips together as I tug my sleeves of my sweater over my hands.

"Something like that." I mutter.

Nan takes a deep breath, leaning back against the couch as she thinks for a moment, silence looming over us.

"Love– if thats what this is– has a way of challenging us, it can make you rethink everything you thought you knew about yourself or about the world." she speaks thoughtfully, "Love is complicated. And it may not always come in the form we expect."

I nod softly, my eyes meeting hers.

"Is that how you felt about Grandad?" I ask.

She laughs softly, her smile returning as she thinks about what it was like to first fall in love. She gives me a slow nod.

"I actually met your grandfather when we were at Hogwarts as well." she states.

"Really?" I ask, tilting my head slight.

She nods again, her eyes glazing over as if she was being transported back in time.

"Yes," she confirms. "He was two years above me. I thought he was insufferable at first– too cocky and smug for his own good. He always knew exactly what to say to get under my skin," she lets out a small laugh, pausing for a moment before continuing. "He was difficult as well in the beginning. But you don't get to decide who to take a chance on– your heart decides for you."

I smile as I listen to her story, finding similarities in myself. She reaches out, grasping my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Whatever it is that you're feeling, Amora," she says, her eyes boring into mine. "Don't ignore it."

Her words strike something deep inside my chest. I swallow hard, nodding softly as my mind flashes back to Mattheo.

"I'll try." I reply, giving her a small smile.

Though, I'm not sure if it's a promise I can keep. My heart and my mind were screaming at me to do two different things, driving me insane. I wanted to see him. Hell, I needed to see him, but I can't ignore who he is or our history.

My mother finally emerges from the kitchen, a small platter of cookies and pumpkin pasties in her hands. She places the platter in the center of the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch across from Nan and I.

She lets out a sigh, running her hands through her long waves. Her shoulders were tense, her features scrunched up. I could tell something was stressing her out– most likely the arrival of my paternal grandparents.

"Are you okay, Mum?" I ask her, my voice riddled with worry.

She shoots me a small smile, sitting up straight as she crosses her legs.

"I'm fine, darling, just a bit stressed." she replies, "No need to worry."

Nan lets out a small scoff, raising her brows as she swirls the wine in her glass before taking another sip.

"Fiona, I told you, you need to relax." she says, "What can I do to help?"

Fiona takes a deep breath, shaking her head slightly.

"There's nothing much to be done, Mum," she sighs. "Just preparing ourselves for tomorrow and all the passive aggressive comments against me and my daughter."

I give my mum a sympathetic smile, knowing that even if she doesn't show it much, it bothers her just as much as it bothers me.

"Just for the sake of keeping the peace." Fiona mutters, as if talking to herself more than anyone else.

"Peace is overrated." Nan replies, taking another sip from her glass.

A laugh escapes my lips, silently agreeing with my grandmother as Fiona shoots her a warning look.

~~~

I pace back and forth next to the fireplace, the flames dancing across my skin as we await the dreaded arrival. Fiona was busy in the kitchen, finishing any last-minute details as Nan sat in the armchair, sipping on a fresh glass of wine with the Daily Prophet in her hands.

I adjust my sweater, pulling my sleeves over my hands as I felt a pit grow in my stomach. The Christmas tree shone brightly from the corner, filling the room with a faint smell of cinnamon and pine. The sharp sound of the doorbell snapped my attention, shattering any sort of peace that had previously occupied the room.

"Coming!" my mother yelled from the kitchen, hearing her hurried steps rush out of the kitchen and to the front door.

The door swung open with a small creak, hearing the faint hum of voices from the other room. Some sort of vague greeting could be heard, the mumbles of a 'Merry Christmas' exchanged.

Fiona leads them to the living room, my grandmother's heels clicking down the hall like nails on a chalkboard. I paint on a convincing smile as they enter the room, the energy immediately shifting.

"Hi Grandma," I greet. "Grandpa."

I give them each a smile, my hands folded in front of me, fidgeting with my thumbs.

"Amora." my grandmother says, her voice void of any emotion as her eyes trailed around the room.

My grandfather simply gives me a faint nod. I fought the intense urge to roll my eyes, but decided to play nice. For now.

"I see your mother is here, as always." my grandmother mutters, shedding off her thick black jacket.

"Well, someone has to bring the holiday cheer, Emily." Nan smiles, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she takes a sip from her glass.

I stifle a laugh, Fiona shooting me a warning glance. Grandma hangs her jacket on the coat rack, my grandfather taking a seat on the couch, pulling out his pipe. He crosses one leg over the other, his lips pressing into a fine line, a small grimace lingering on his features.

Nan turns her attention back to the Daily Prophet, Fiona and my grandmother making small conversation as she can't help but make comments about our home. My grandfather turns his attention towards me, lighting the end of his pipe.

"Still at Hogwarts, I presume? Hopefully making something useful of yourself." he asks, the pipe sitting between his lips as a small cloud of smoke escapes.

My hands ball into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. I take a deep breath, taking a seat on the couch across from him.

"Your father always had high expectations for you," he goes on. "Wouldn't want the Sinclair family name to be tarnished."

"I'm doing quite well in school, actually." I say through gritted teeth.

Merlin, it was a mystery to me how they could have only arrived a few minutes ago and have already managed to suck any joy out of the room.

He dismisses my reply, blowing out a cloud of smoke from his pipe.

"Fiona," he turns towards my mother. "Why don't you go get me a glass of whiskey."

I couldn't help myself, I rolled my eyes so hard into my head I could practically see my skull. My actions going unnoticed by everyone except Nan who let out a small chuckle, taking another sip from her glass.

Fiona agrees, excusing herself as she hurried into the kitchen. My grandmother steps over, taking a seat next to my grandfather across from me. She settles into the spot next to her husband, smoothing out her skirt with her palms. I feel her cold eyes rake over me, as if trying to find any imperfection to comment on.

"You've grown," Emily speaks up cooly, her hands folded in her lap. "Though I do hope you've grown into a respectful young lady. Your father had such high hopes for you, he would expect nothing less."

It's funny, hearing her use the word 'respect' in such a manner when she has yet to show me any, ever. I swallow hard, trying to avoid any sarcastic remark that could slip from my tongue.

"I'm doing just fine, thanks." I reply, trying to calm my quickening heartbeat.

She snorts out a laugh, patting her husbands shoulder as he pays no attention to the conversation happening next to him.

"There is a quite difference between doing fine and doing excellent," she says. "And the Sinclair name demands excellence."

I clench my jaw, shifting in my seat slightly.

"Well, the only expectations I care to live up to are my own." I state simply.

Emily raises a sharp brow at me, her lips curling into something between a smile and a sneer. Luckily for me, my mother interrupts at the perfect time, returning with two glasses of Pure Malt Whiskey.

She hands a glass to each of them, Emily accepting it with a nod, her gaze still lingering on me. My grandfather takes a slow sip, leaning back against the couch.

"It's a shame, really," my grandfather sighs, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Your father was a disciplined man, very determined. He never let his emotions get in the way of success."

My nails dig into my palms, almost drawing blood. I hated the way they used my father against me, as if they even knew the man that I knew.

"I suppose I'm not him." I say through gritted teeth.

"No," Emily says, a hint of amusement in her voice. "You certainly are not."

Silence looms over the room, trying my best to ignore the burning sensation in my chest. Nan peers over at me through her reading glasses, a knowing glint in her eyes as she takes a long sip from her wine glass. Fiona clears her throat, breaking a silence as she forces a smile on her lips.

"Why don't we move into the dining room, hmm?" Fiona speaks up, "Dinner is just about done."

"Merlin, finally," Emily groans. "I was beginning to think we'd be engaging in small talk in this wretched room all evening."

She gets up from the couch, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt before showing herself to the dining room. My grandfather follows suit, downing whatever was left in his glass as he follows his wife without a word.

My mother lets out a sigh before following them as well. I wait for a moment till they're out of ear shot before turning towards Nan.

"I don't think I can do this." I speak up, "Sitting in there with them, trying to keep my mouth closed."

She gives me a smile, folding up the Daily Prophet and setting it next to her. She takes off her glasses, her hand reaching over and squeezing mine in a comforting manner.

"So don't." Nan replies simply.

A small laugh escapes my lips, shaking my head slightly as I stand up.

"Deep breaths, darling," Nan mutters. "The evening is still young."

I give her a small nod as she stands up as well, heading over to the dining room. I linger for a moment, taking a deep breath before following suit.

The dining room is already filled with the clinking of silverware as my grandparents settle into their seats. My grandfather filled his glass with another serving of whiskey, Emily's eyes scanning over the table, just waiting to get into it with my mother. Fiona emerges from the kitchen, placing platters of food around the table.

"I hope everything is to your liking," Fiona speaks up, settling into her own seat.

My grandmother gives her a small hum, a lingering tone of disappointment in her voice. Silence falls over the room as everyone fills their plates. The only sound to be heard was the scrapping of silverware against porcelain, the occasional clink of glasses.

I stare at my plate, moving the food around with my fork, taking an occasional bite. Truth be told, I didn't exactly have an appetite at the moment.

"Everything is delicious, Fiona." Nan speaks up, breaking through the silence as she dabs the corner of her mouth with the cloth napkin.

"Thank you, Mum." Fiona smiles, taking a sip of her own wine glass.

Emily lifts her own glass, inspecting the amber-colored liquid as she swirled it around the cup. I rest my chin on my palm, an unamused expression on my face as I let my mind wander.

"So, Amora," my grandfather speaks up. "Tell me, what are your plans for after Hogwarts?"

I lift my head up, feeling all eyes from the table on me. I clear my throat briefly, my hands fiddling with my sweater sleeves.

"Well, I still have one year left." I reply, "But I've had my eye on an internship in the Ministry for next summer, as long as I can manage at least 5 O's on the N.E.W.T. exams."

My grandfather hums, taking a slow sip from his glass of whiskey. His expression is hard to decipher, but I can feel the pressure building.

"The Ministry," he muses, setting the glass down with thud. "Quite ambitious is it not? What exactly is it that you plan to do there?"

I think for a moment, taking a deep breath as I chose my next words carefully.

"I was looking into the Department of International Magic Cooperation," I say. "Maybe even the Department of Mysteries if I can get in."

Emily lets out a small scoff, shaking her head slightly with an amused look on her face as she cuts into her food. I clench my fork harder in my hand.

"Now where do you think you could go with International affairs?" she questions, her voice riddled with judgement. "Now your father–"

"Don't." I snap, before I could stop myself.

Emily raises a brow, picking up her glass. A tense silence fills the room, quiet enough the hear a pin drop. Nan clears her throat, a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

"Why don't we just enjoy this meal before it goes cold, hm?" she interjects.

Fiona shoots me a concerned glance. I brush her off, my attention returning to my plate as I bounce my leg anxiously under the table, unsure of how much more I could take. I take a deep breath, shoving my fork into my mouth as I take a bite from my potatoes. Of course, Emily isn't done with her comments.

"No need to be so defensive," she remarks, taking a sip from her glass. "I was merely stating how your father had greater aspirations. He would have wanted more for you."

My grip tightens around my fork, knuckles turning white. I swallow the lump growing in my throat, shooting daggers at at my grandmother across the table.

"I think the Department of International Magic Cooperation or the Department of Mysteries are both perfectly honorable positions." Nan adds, sending me a small smile in an attempt to defend me.

There was a mere moment of silence upon the table before I spoke up.

"You act like you know exactly what my father would have wanted." I say through gritted teeth.

Emily smirks, setting down her glass.

"I knew him far longer than you did, dear." she asserts.

I feel my anger burning in my chest, wanting nothing more than to lay it into her. Nothing I ever did was good enough in their eyes. And they always used the excuse of my father. I think they know exactly what they're doing.

"I think Charles would have wanted Amora to find her own path. Whatever it may be." Fiona interjects, her tone light as she tries to ease the growing tension.

Emily hums, clearly unimpressed but doesn't push any further. My grandfather finishes his glass of whiskey, barely acknowledging the exchange as Nan gives me a small nod, showing her silent support for me.

The dinner carries on, small chatter passed back and forth throughout the night, but I stayed silent, too focused on keeping my emotions in check to bother. Fiona shoots me a few concerned glances as I push my food around my plate.

Emily and my grandfather get into a small talk about Ministry politics that I have no interest in listening to.

"Amora, darling, why don't you help me bring out dessert?" Nan speaks up, though it wasn't exactly a request.

I happily comply, quickly getting up from my spot at the table and heading into the kitchen. Nan follows suit. I open the fridge, pulling out the homemade cake my mother made as Nan uncovers a fresh platter of pumpkin pasties.

I place the platter on the counter, turning around to face my grandmother. I lean my back against the counter, Nan giving me that all-knowing look. She gives my arm a small squeeze.

"Are you alright?" she asks gently.

I let out a long sigh, shaking my head slightly.

"No," I reply. "But its not like I can do anything about it. The nights almost over anyways."

She gives me a nod, pursing her lips into a fine line.

"Don't you dare listen to a single thing they say, Amora," Nan says. "You are perfect and I am so proud of everything you've accomplished."

I reply with a small smile, giving her a slow nod as I meet her comforting gaze.

"Thanks, Nan." I mutter, my voice quiet.

She grabs the platter of pastries, turning to head back into the dining room. I grab the cake, following her back into the wolf's den.

The air was still thick with tension and unspoken words, my grandfather swirling his fresh glass of whiskey around.

"Hope you saved room," Fiona forces a smile, her voice light as Nan and I set the platters on the already filled table.

There's a mutter of acknowledgement around the table, but I pay no attention. I grab a pumpkin pastie, placing it on my plate as I pick off little pieces of the pastry. Fiona slices the cake, passing pieces around the table as small talk resumes.

I opted to keep my mouth shut, just waiting for this dreadful night to be over. The minutes drag by, the clock ticking at what felt like a painfully slow pace.

"You know," Emily says between bites of dessert. "It's a shame Charles couldn't be here to manage the home. Every household should have a strong man to handle the affairs."

That was it. My last straw had been dwindling for the last hour, but I couldn't do it anymore.

I toss my cutlery down on the table, colliding with my plate in a deafening crash that echoes around the quiet room. I push my chair away from the table, getting up in a hurried manner and leaving the dining room, my mind clouded.

"Amora!" I hear my mother call after me.

I ignore her plea, storming out of the room as I hurry up the stairs to my bedroom, slamming the door shut in the process. My heart pounded in my chest, letting out shallow breaths as I pace back and forth.

Tears prick the corner of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall– refusing to let Emily and my grandfather win this never ending game. But their words cut deep wounds into my chest, whether I admit it or not. Her words rang through my mind.

Needing a strong man to take care of the family.

As if my mother wasn't enough– like I wasn't enough. Everything my mother had built in the years since he passed, single handedly getting me through the hardest time in my life all while dealing with her own grief. All being reduced to nothing.

I run a hand through my hair, but it does little to calm me, the weight of everything settling on my chest. A soft knock at my door pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts.

"Amora?" my mothers soft voice could be heard on the other side of the door, "Can I come in?"

I hesitate for a moment, jaw clenched as I stare at the door. A sigh escapes my lips as I reach out, my hand slowly turning the knob as I push the door open.

My mother has a sympathetic expression etched over her features. I swallow hard as we look at each other in silence for a moment. I feel my tears begin to fall down my cheeks, every suppressed emotion coming to surface.

She wraps her arms around me in a comforting, tight embrace, resting her chin on top of my head as I cry into her shoulder. She mutters small words of comfort, her hand rubbing circles around my back.

"I'm just so sick of it," I murmur.

"I know, darling," she sighs. "I know."

We stand in silence for a few minutes, my heart rate slowing down as Fiona comforts me.

"I miss him." I say, pulling away as I look up at her.

Fiona gives me a sad smile, nodding slowly as her hands grasp mine, giving them a small squeeze.

"Me too, Amora," she replies quietly. "We'll be alright, we always get through it."

———

Chapter 21

"... and a Happy New Year."

~~~

*smut warning*

December 31, 1996

The days leading up to New Year's went by quietly, especially after the absolute disaster that Christmas was. After I stormed out, my grandparents had left, muttering about how disrespectful I was and how much Fiona has failed me as a mother. Luckily, Nan had my back, but nothing will ever change their opinions of me. It's just something I have to live with.

Anyways, I have spent the last few days with my mother and Nan for the most part, trying to spend as much time together as possible before I eventually have to return to school.

Tonight is the much anticipated New Year's party, hosted by none other than Draco Malfoy at the Malfoy Manor. I was most excited to see my friends—I never realize how much I rely on them for my sanity until we're apart for too long.

I take a look in the mirror, smudging the corner of my eyeliner a bit as I finish getting ready. I adjust my dress, pulling the silver fabric down my body. I glance at my appearance one last time, trying to find any last imperfections to fix.

I take a deep breath, calming my nerves before slipping on my shoes and grabbing my purse. I descend down the stairs, headed towards the living room where I can hear faint hum of voices. I turn the corner, my face lighting up as I spot Theo standing in my living room, chatting with my grandmother.

"Theodore Nott," I greet as I approach him. "Were you not going to come up and say hello?"

My voice had a hint of playfulness to it, teasing him. A smirk grows on his lips as he turns towards me, holding out his arms.

"Well, Amora Sinclair, I got a bit caught up chatting with Nan," he says, his voice matching my teasing tone.

I let out a laugh, pulling him into a tight embrace as he wraps his arms around me, placing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

Theo had insisted on stopping at my house first to walk me to the Malfoy's. Even if they were just a few houses down, he wanted to make sure I got there safely.

His embrace was comforting, making me realize just how much I've missed him in the last week or so. After a few moments, we both pull away, a smile lingering on my lips. His eyes follow me up and down, taking in my appearance.

"My, my," he says. "You look beautiful, Amora."

A soft laugh escapes my lips, a warmth spreading across my chest at the compliment.

"Why thank you," I reply, meeting his gaze. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"Oh, Amora," Nan speaks up. "You do look absolutely stunning," she says, a warm smile on her face as she looks at me. "But, you should probably go before your mother sees you and insists you change."

"Thanks, Nan," I let out a small laugh. "Say goodbye to Mum for me?"

Theo holds out his arm as I take it, heading out together. I hug my jacket closer to my body, the cold air nipping at my exposed skin. The soft sound of snow crunching under our shoes filled the air, the streets rather serene despite the faint hum of music heard from down the street.

"So, how was your Christmas?" Theo asks, breaking the silence that had settled in.

"It was a disaster," I sigh, my eyes focused on the road ahead of us. "You?"

He chuckles, taking in a sharp breath before continuing.

"Oh, you know," he says. "Same old family drama."

It felt like he was holding something back, but I didn't press the matter. The point of tonight was to escape it all, forget all your worries for a short period of time.

"Merlin, do I know it," I mutter.

We finally reach the grand gates of the manor, pushing through as I feel a familiar sense of anticipation take over my senses.

"You ready?" Theo glances down at me, his signature smirk written all over his features.

"Ready as always," I reply, looking up at him as I match his expression.

Though I don't think anything could have prepared me for the events that were to unfold.

We walk through the large doors of the manor, the smell of booze and marijuana filling my senses. The air was thick with people, the music blaring as different colored lights flashed around the room.

I set my coat on the rack near the front, my eyes scanning the crowd for any familiar faces as my grip on Theo's arm tightens.

Theo and I push our way through the sea of people, weaving through groups as laughter and chatter filled the room over the loud music. Theo takes my hand, leading the way as we attempt to find the bar.

The energy in the room was electric, a mix of drunken excitement and reckless abandon that came with celebrating the last night of the year. Eventually we reach the bar—leave it up to Malfoy to hire a bartender for a damn house party.

"What'll you have?" Theo turns around, leaning down to speak in my ear.

"I'll take whatever you're having," I reply.

His lips curl into a smirk as he leans over the counter, ordering for the both of us. My eyes glance around the room, searching for familiar faces. I spotted Draco across the room, talking to a group of people that I didn't recognize. My eyes follow along, finding Pansy not too far over, taking a mental note to head over as soon as we get our drinks.

Theo turns around, handing me a glass. I swirl the contents around, the familiar scent of firewhiskey hitting me.

"To surviving another year," Theo toasts, raising his glass.

I let out a laugh, tapping my glass against his before bringing it up to my lips.

"Barely," I mutter.

I take a sip, the firewhiskey burning a trail down my throat. He keeps his eyes fixed on mine, watching my reaction to his drink of choice as he takes a sip from his own glass. I roll my eyes, a smile creeping onto my lips as I shake my head at him.

"Let's go find Pansy, yeah?" I ask, my hand resting on his shoulder as I speak in his ear so he could hear me.

Theo nods in agreeance, taking my hand and leading me towards the couches. I could practically feel the music in my veins, the entire atmosphere intoxicating my senses as we push through the crowd of people.

As we approach the couches, Pansy turns towards me, her face instantly lighting up as quickly gets up, setting her drink down to give me a hug.

"Merlin, it's about time!" Pansy exclaims, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace.

A laugh escapes my lips as I wrap my arms around her, holding her close.

"Missed you too, Pans," I laugh.

She pulls away, a tipsy smile on her lips as she gives my arms a squeeze before moving on to Theo. She gives Theo a hug as well before gesturing us to sit down with her.

I take another sip from my glass as I sit down on the couch, Theo taking a seat next to me. He drapes his arm behind me, but I don't think too much into it—it's just Theo, he's always been like this. I look over at Pansy, a smirk growing on her lips as she raises a brow, taking a sip from her glass as I could already hear the teasing remarks forming in her head.

I roll my eyes playfully, shaking my head at her. My attention shifts, a strange sensation creeping in. A feeling that only the weight of a stare can bring. I look up, my eyes meeting his from across the room.

Standing near the staircase, leaning against the wall with a cigarette lazily dangling between his fingers, Mattheo Riddle watches me. His dark curls were disheveled, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, his jaw slightly clenched.

My breath catches in my throat, my heart dropping into the pit of my stomach. I watch as he exhales a slow stream of smoke, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that makes it impossible to breathe.

For that moment, everything faded—the music, the people, the party. It was just him. His presence was magnetic, pulling me in and unable to escape.

"You alright, Amora?" Theo asks, suddenly yanking me back to reality.

I blink, tearing my eyes away, taking a deep breath as I shift my focus back to my friends, shooting them a convincing smile.

"I'm fine," I reply quickly. "Sorry, just distracted."

I could feel his gaze piercing into me, his eyes burning a trail on my skin. I swallow hard, shaking off any feelings brewing inside me. Hell, he was the last person I expected to see tonight. I may have come here to forget my problems, but Mattheo Riddle isn't going to let me.

Pansy follows where my gaze was, looking over at the staircase before snapping back in my direction. She lowers her eyes at me, a knowing smirk written all over her lips. I still hadn't told her what happened in the few days before we left school, but her instincts were too sharp.

I sink further into the couch, leaning into Theo's touch. I was eternally grateful that Pansy knew to keep her mouth shut about this in front of Theo. Not that I even fully understood what was happening.

We engage in small talk for a bit, taking slow sips of my drink as other Slytherin students join in with us. Though, no matter how hard I try I can't escape the feeling of Mattheo's stare. Theo's fingers absentmindedly trace circles along my shoulder, his presence keeping me grounded to reality, but it does little to settle my racing heart beat.

Suddenly, Pansy shoots up from her spot, stepping in front of me as she grasps my hands, pulling me up as well.

"Come on, baby," she says with a slight giggle. "Let's dance."

A laugh escapes my lips as she leaves me no room to protest.

"If you insist," I tease, giving her a small wink.

I set down my glass, telling Theo to guard my drink as Pansy pulls me to the dance floor, the air thick with bodies and heat. Pansy spins me around, laughing along as we move our bodies to the beat of the music.

The rhythm of the music flows through me, distracting me from the obvious tension in the air as Pansy and I danced. Pansy moves with ease, moving her hips against mine. She turns around, taking my hand.

"So, what's with Riddle?" Pansy asks, leaning forward to speak in my ear.

I freeze for a moment, the sudden question taking me off guard. I quickly recover, shaking it off as I shrug.

"Riddle?" I question, trying my best to avoid the subject. "I don't know. He's just...Mattheo."

She raises a brow, a skeptical look etched on her features as she smirks, clearly unconvinced. She leans in closer, her breath against my warm skin.

"Come on, Amora," she replies. "I saw the look in your eyes. You can't lie to me like you lie to yourself."

I let out a sigh, rolling my eyes as a smile creeps up on my lips. I could never get anything past Pansy.

"It's a messy, complicated, long story," I say as we sway to the beat. "I promise I'll fill you in later."

She watches me carefully, smirk never faltering. She was clearly amused at whatever was going on, but my answer was not enough to satisfy her. She pulls me in a little closer as the song changes, still dancing.

"Fine. But I will be waiting for every detail, Amora Sinclair," she states, her voice demanding in a playful manner.

"I don't doubt that," I laugh, shaking my head slightly as she twirls me around.

My gaze shifts, unintentionally finding his eyes from across the room. He looks over at the same moment, his eyes locking on mine. It was filled with unspoken words and a heated tension, thick enough to cut through with a knife.

Mattheo doesn't look away. Neither do I.

I watch as his lips curl into a smirk, the kind of look that is both dangerous and irresistible. He tilts his head slightly as I swallow hard before quickly looking away.

"I'm gonna get some air," I turn to Pansy, forcing a smile.

"Alright," she replies, still moving her hips to the beat of the music. "Come find me later, yeah?"

I agree, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before pushing back through the crowds, weaving past bodies as I make my way back towards the couches.

I find Theo quickly, still in his spot as he was in deep conversation with a group of both Hogwarts students and a few people I didn't recognize. He notices me immediately, eyes flickering up to meet mine as a smirk returns to his lips. I step over, there were no more spots open.

I pause for a moment, unsure whether to stand or leave, but Theo makes a decision for me.

"Come on, Amora," he says, a teasing note to his voice. "I don't bite."

I let out a laugh, a smile tugging at my lips as roll my eyes playfully, stepping around to stand in front of him.

"How chivalrous of you, Theodore," I reply.

Before I could sit, he grasps my wrists, and in one swift motion, he pulls me down—right into his lap. I raise a brow at him, settling against him. Adrian Pucey lets out a chuckle next to him, clearly intoxicated yet amused by Theo's antics.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" I say, a cheeky grin on my lips.

He shoots me a grin, one arm draping around my waist.

"And yet you still keep me around," he replies, matching my expression.

I can feel the heat of his proximity, the weight of his lingering touch on my skin. I see why people think we're more than we are, but to us—this was normal.

I grab my drink from the coffee table, taking a slow sip as the firewhiskey burns down my throat. I engage in the light chatter going around the circle, feeling far too sober compared to everyone else in the group. Especially Adrian, who kept going on about why a guy like Miles would ever want to cheat on me.

I felt my cheeks turn a slight shade of pink at his comments, but I mask it with a small smile, swirling the amber liquid around my glass.

"Now the real question, Adrian," I begin, turning towards him. "Is why he ever thought he could get away with it. Another word from you about this and I'll hex you into next week, Pucey."

He lets out a chuckle, far too gone to take me seriously as he give me a shrug, crossing his arms over his chest as he sinks lower into the couch. I was absolutely looking forward to leaving Bletchley behind in 1996.

"I'm just trying to defend your honor here, Sinclair," he says, a smile lingering on his lips.

I roll my eyes at him, Theo's grip tightening around me. The group continues their banter, the noise fading out into the background.

I take one last sip before placing my glass back on the table in front of me. Getting up from Theo's lap, I stand up, smoothing out the fabric of my dress. I can feel is eyes lingering on me as I turn around to face him.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom and find Pansy," I speak up, my voice steady.

His eyes flicker towards mine, expression never faltering.

"Alright," he replies. "Don't be gone too long."

I shoot him a grin over my shoulder as I turn on my heels, heading back into the large sea of people. The crowd had grown much larger since our arrival, groups of people flooding in and out of the manor.

The music pulses through the air, flashing lights dancing around the room as sweaty bodies moved together. The noise fizzles out as I find a bathroom a little farther down the hall, as it was less crowded the further I went.

I turn around the corner, my breath catching in my throat as someone grasps my wrists, pressing me firmly against the wall. A gasp escapes my lips, my heart beating quickly in my chest, the sudden movement causing a wave of shock through my body.

My immediate instinct is to push them away, but I look up, meeting the oh so familiar dark eyes of Mattheo Riddle. I freeze, my lips parting slightly as I let out a deep breath, my brows furrowing together in confusion.

"Mattheo," I whisper, my gaze meeting his as I attempt to settle my heart beat. "What the fuck are you doing?"

His jaw tightens, his eyes raking over me, lingering a little too long on my lips before meeting my eyes. The way he looks at me makes my stomach flip.

It was then that I noticed just how close he was standing, chests practically touching as his face was just mere inches from mine.

"What am I doing?" he repeats, his voice low, almost a mocking tone to it. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I shake my head slightly, eyes still fixed on his in confusion.

"Don't act like you don't know what you do to me, angel," he adds, his voice coming out in a low husk that sends a shiver down my spine. "Seeing you perched up on Nott's lap like he fucking owns you."

I wasn't sure what I expected from this exchange but this—was certainly not it.

His tone was laced with something darker, something possessive that makes my skin tingle in ways that I can't ignore. I swallow hard before opening my mouth to speak, struggling to find the right words.

"Mattheo..." I start, the faint hum of the music in the background still heard over the sound of my rapid pulse. "I don't know what you want from me."

He lets out a small chuckle, looking down at me with an intensity that drives me insane. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, leaning in closer.

"Tell me, Amora," he murmurs. "Tell me you don't feel it. Tell me you don't want this."

I can feel his breath fan across the side of my face as he whispers in my ear, the faint smell of cigarettes and cologne radiating off him.

I stay silent for a moment, trying to look away, but I just can't—his presence pulling me in like a magnet.

"I can't," I say, the words finally fall from my lips.

His eyes grow darker, his body moving impossibly closer to mine. His finger grazes along my jaw, meeting my gaze once again.

"Then say it, Amora," he presses. "Tell me that you don't want him. Tell me that you want this just as much as I do."

I let out a shaky breath, the logical part of my brain screaming at me to run away, to escape the tension that was suffocating me. But the other part yearned for me to come closer, to admit to him just how much he's got me tangled in his web.

"Tell me that you want me." he adds.

"I want you." I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

The moment the words leave my mouth, everything changes. The atmosphere around us seeming to crackle. His lips curl into a slow, satisfied smirk as his fingers trail down my neck, wrapping loosely around my throat.

Before I could even process what was happening, his lips are on mine. The kiss is urgent, almost desperate as he pulls me in. His other hand rests against my waist, gripping it tightly as if afraid I'm going to slip away.

He pulls away for a brief moment, panting softly as he meets my gaze once again.

"Say it again," he repeats, his voice low and demanding.

I shouldn't be doing this, I know I shouldn't. But how is it that something so wrong could feel so right?

I exhale, my breath coming out slightly shaky. His hand remains around my throat, not constricting but a silent reminder of the control I've willingly given him in this moment.

"I want you, Mattheo," I say, my voice steady. "I want you more than I ever thought possible. And that scares the fuck out of me, but Merlin, I want you."

A low groan escapes from his chest at my confession. His eyes darken with something primal, as I meet his gaze, my eyes searching his as he processes my words.

"Fuck, Amora," he mutters, his voice rough, almost pained. "You have no idea what you do to me."

His breath fans across my face as I reach up, my hand caressing his cheek, thumb tracing along the scar that runs through his eye.

His lips crash against mine again, with an insatiable hunger that consumes my very being. His restraint was quickly slipping as his hands roamed my body, our lips moving together in a fiery passion.

A whimper escapes me as his teeth graze my bottom lip, deepening the kiss. My fingers find his hair, running through his curls as I tug on them gently. He lets out a groan from deep in his chest, pressing me impossibly further against the wall, my spine colliding against the cold stone.

I could feel his heart pounding against my chest, just as frantic as my own. His lips trailed down my jaw, then lower, trailing hot, open-mouth kisses along my neck.

"Tell me again," he murmurs against my sensitive skin, nipping gently.

I tilt my head back, giving him more access. My body feels like it's on fire, burning with need, with him.

"I want you, Mattheo," I whisper, my voice breathy. "Only you."

Mattheo exhales sharply against my skin, his grip on my waist only tightening as if to keep himself anchored.

"It's always been you," I breathe.

His teeth graze against my pulse point, a soft moan escaping my lips as he continues, every movement sending a shiver down my spine. He stops suddenly, pulling back to look at me. His fingers grasp my jaw, tilting my head to look at him, both our breaths ragged.

His eyes search mine, burning with an intensity that sends a wave of arousal straight through me. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, as if he's barely holding himself together.

"You drive me insane, Amora," he pants softly. "I can't fucking think straight when it comes to you."

"So don't think," I murmur, my chest rising and falling quickly. "Just feel."

A flicker of something unreadable crosses his features before crashing his lips against mine once more, with an all-consuming sense of passion and possession. His hand slides into my hair, entangling itself as he tugs gently, earning a gasp to escape my lips.

He pulls back for a moment, pressing his forehead against mine.

"You're going to be the death of me," he mutters.

"Then let me ruin you," I whisper back, breathless. "The same way you've ruined me."

Something in him snaps. In an instant, my body feels as if it's flying through space and time before my surroundings change. The cold atmosphere of the room was a sharp contrast from that of the manor, a familiar scent filling my senses.

We Apparated.

My breath catches in my throat as I take in our new surroundings—dark wooden furniture, dim lighting, and the faint smell of sandalwood and something that was so distinctly him.

"Where are we?" I ask, finally meeting his gaze.

A low chuckle escapes his throat, his lips curling into a small smirk as he reaches up, his hand lighting caressing my cheek.

"You didn't think I was gonna take you on the wall of the manor, did you?" he cocks.

My body shutters at his words, a shiver of excitement rolling down my spine. His finger trails down my jaw, tilting my face up as I meet his eyes. His touch is light, almost teasing, but his eyes burn with raw desire.

He smashes his lips against mine, my arms instantly wrapping behind his neck. His lips move against mine with an urgency that leaves me breathless, as nothing else mattered in this moment. Nothing but us.

His hands grip my hips, hoisting me up as I wrap my legs around his torso, feeling his growing need pressed against me. Without breaking the kiss, he walks us toward his desk, seating me on the edge. I grip the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as my body craves more.

His lips trail down my neck, roughly sucking and nipping at my skin—sure to leave marks. Soft moans escape my lips as I lean my head back, giving him more access, my breath coming out as ragged gasps.

"Are you sure you want this?" he murmurs in my ear, panting softly. "Once we do this, Amora, there is no going back."

I nod softly, my fingers running through his dark curls. His words echo in my mind, but they don't scare me—they only make me want this more.

"I'm sure," I say, looking up at him.

He lets out a satisfied hum before attacking my lips once again in a searing kiss, letting go of any restraint he previously had. His fingers fumble with the zipper of my dress, letting out a small growl before impatiently ripping the fabric apart and sliding it down my body.

He pulls away slightly, his eyes raking over my bare chest. Goosebumps form along my skin, both from the cold air and the sudden vulnerability.

"So fucking beautiful..." he murmurs, his lips claim my neck, trailing hot kisses down to my breasts.

His tongue traces circles around my nipple, sending shocks of electricity straight to my core. I arch my back against him, my fingers entangling themselves in his curls as he takes the hardened peak into his mouth.

"Mattheo..." I moan softly, his name rolling off my tongue so naturally.

He trails his lips down my stomach, making me shudder as I meet his eyes, watching as he tugs the remaining fabric off my body—along with my panties.

His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of my bare cunt, aching for any touch. He moves back up, crashing his lips back against mine as one hand grasps my thigh, the other trailing a finger teasingly through my slit.

His lips swallow my moans as he pushes a finger inside my soaking heat. I let out a gasp, arching my back against him as he slowly slides it in and out before adding a second. He bites down on my lower lip, my hand diving into his hair as the other rests against his jaw.

He picks up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of my needy cunt as moans fly from my lips.

"That's it, angel," he mutters, his thumb rubbing slow circles around my clit.

My walls clench around him, signaling my impending release before he pulls away, looking down at me with a devilish smirk.

"Fuck, Mattheo," I pant softly, cursing him.

He lets out a deep chuckle, his eyes raking over my frame.

"Patience, baby," he says. "I only want you cumming around my cock."

Merlin, the words coming out of his mouth did something sinful to me.

I catch my bottom lip between my teeth as I watch his hands skillfully work at the buttons of his shirt. My eyes wander his bare chest and abdomen, his shoulders and chest littered with scars. He notices my gaze, his smirk widening as he works at his belt, quickly shedding off whatever layers were left.

My eyes widen slightly as his cock springs free from his boxers, his size more than impressive. He gives himself a few lazy strokes before picking me up effortlessly and walking to the bed, lowering me onto the mattress as he presses his body against mine.

I glance up at him as my back collides with the soft mattress, feeling completely intoxicated with the lust and desperation that had taken over.

"I wanna hear you beg for it," Mattheo says, running the tip through my folds teasingly, gathering my arousal.

I look up at him, my lips parting slightly.

"Merlin, please, Mattheo," I say, my voice laced with need. "I need you to fuck me."

With a satisfied smirk, he pushes inside me, stretching out my cunt with a sweet sting. A gasp escapes my lips, my jaw falling open as he slowly sinks all the way in, his eyes never leaving mine as he gives me a moment to adjust.

"Such a good girl for me," he mutters, his voice low and hypnotic, sending a shiver through my body.

He slowly begins to pick up the pace, each movement controlled and deliberate, yet laced with a desperation neither of us can suppress. I cling onto him, my nails digging into his shoulders as moans fall from my lips.

Mattheo grabs my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes as he goes faster, his cock easily sliding in and out of my slick cunt.

"You feel that, Amora?" he says breathlessly, "That's all for you..."

"Fuck, Mattheo," I moan out, my back arching slightly against him.

As if something in him snapped, his jaw tenses as his thrusts become harder, rougher, a new intensity I hadn't though possible.

His hand wraps possessively around my throat as the sound of his skin slapping against mine fills the room, matching his heavy breaths. I could feel the pressure quickly building up inside me.

His face was twisted into an intense concentration, fucking me harder and faster, hitting my g-spot with every thrust. My mind was clouded, consumed by the pleasure he was providing.

Obscene moans fly from my lips, his grip tightening around my throat as his other hand moves from my hip to rub circles around my clit.

"You wanna cum for me, angel?" he murmurs, eyes darkened with lust.

"Fuck—yes!" my cries fill the room. "Please, Mattheo."

He lets out a low groan at my words, his smirk returning as he gives my throat a squeeze, making me look up at him.

"Look at me," he says, pressing his forehead against mine. "I want to see you fall apart for me."

I wasn't sure what was gonna make me cum faster, his sinful words or his dick.

My eyes meet his, my jaw falling open as a sense of euphoria comes crashing over me, hitting me like a tidal wave. My walls clench his cock, gripping him like a vice as I come undone, my orgasm hitting me with an intensity that takes my breath away.

"Fuck—that's it," he growls, his voice coming out in a low husk.

His hips buck into me as he spills himself into me, riding out both of our highs. He gives a few last pumps before coming to a stop, basking in the post-orgasmic bliss.

He captures my lips in a slow, gentle kiss, his hand moving from my throat to lightly caress my cheek. My fingers rake through his messy, tousled curls, my body practically melting at his finger tips.

He pulls away, his eyes locking onto mine as our chests rise and fall in unison, the remnants of our passion still lingering in the space between us.

He slowly pulls out, earning a wince to escape my lips. He lets out a heavy sigh, collapsing next to me on the bed before pulling me into his arms, unspoken emotions hanging in the air. His arms envelope me, holding onto with a grip that felt as if he never wanted to let go.

I rest my head against his chest, embracing the unfamiliarity of his touch. His fingers trace absent patterns along my spine, sending shivers through my already sensitive skin. The silence was comfortable—yet there was a lingering question that neither of us were quite ready to answer.

My thumb brushes against the soft skin of his forearm, my eyes tracing the outline of the dark ink that littered his flesh, it's presence both haunting and unavoidable. Though I'm sure for him it was just another part of who he was—something he had learned to live with long ago.

"Does it make you hate me?" he asks, breaking the silence as he notices my gaze.

I glance up at him, meeting his eyes. There was something hidden there, something I had only seen very few times—vulnerability.

"No," I reply, my voice gentle. "I could never hate you."

———

Chapter 22

"Am I? Or did Mattheo just never trust you enough to tell you the truth?"

~~~

January 1, 1997

Sunlight crept through the thin curtains, shining a cast over the dark room as the morning sun took over the sky. A dull ache lingers in my limbs as I stir awake, my body heavy with exhaustion. The sheets were softer than I had remembered, my fingers curling around the fabric as my eyebrows knit together, my eyes fluttering open.

This wasn't my bed.

I jolt up suddenly, the realization slapping me in the face as my heart pounds against my chest. The brief panic slowly subdues as the memories of last night flood my mind. A sigh escapes my lips, closing my eyes for a moment as I run a hand through my hair.

I open my eyes once again, taking in my surroundings. The only light was that from the window, casting a faint glow against the dark wood that decorated the room. It was very clean, as if it hadn't been lived in for some time, with a carefully organized bookshelf pushed into the corner and an empty desk near the door.

It was then that I noticed Mattheo sitting at the edge of the bed, facing away from me, shirtless with his shoulders tensed. I watch as his fingers tread through his unruly hair, his breaths slow but uneven. Something was wrong.

"Mattheo?" I ask quietly, his head perking up at the sound of my voice. "Where are we?"

Mattheo takes a deep breath, his jaw tensing before he replies.

"My home," he replies, his voice low. "My father's estate."

My heart drops into my stomach, the panic I had felt waking up now creeping back up my throat. The feeling of both fear and dread pricks at my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

I swallow hard, sitting up taller as I lift up the sheets to cover my bare skin.

"Your father," I repeat, my voice low, shallow even. "Why did you bring me here?"

His muscles tense at my words, dragging a hand over his face.

"I didn't know he'd be here. He wasn't supposed to be here," he hisses.

My fingers clutch the fabric tighter, the room suddenly feeling suffocating as it grows thick with tension. My breath catches in my throat, panic settling in my chest.

I was in the home of a man who wants me dead.

"I—I can't be here, Mattheo." I stutter, my breath quickening. "I have to go."

He stands up abruptly, finally turning around to face me. His gaze was dark, something unreadable behind it.

He moves before I can process, swiftly grasping my wrists in a tight hold, not enough to hurt me, but enough to be firm and keep me grounded. He meets my gaze, his eyes searching mine.

"Amora, I need you to listen to me." he says sternly.

I pause for a moment, looking up at him as I attempt to settle my racing heart beat. I take a deep breath before nodding, having no other choice but to trust him.

"My father knows I've brought company, but he doesn't know that it's you," he speaks, his voice slightly softer. "If you leave this room, he will know. As long as you stay in this room, you will be safe."

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of their implication. I swallow hard, my chest tightening as my mind can't help but race with the different possibilities.

He exhales slowly, dropping one of my wrists as he reaches up, his thumb gently brushing against my cheek.

"Just—please promise me you will stay put. I will handle this," he adds.

I force myself to nod, every fiber in my body screaming at me to run away as fast as I can. But I can't. I won't. Not with the fear of what might happen if I do.

"I promise," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

His thumb lingers against my skin for another moment before he pulling away, his eyes flickering with silent gratitude. Silence falls over the room as he shuffles around, buttoning up his top as he gets dressed.

He would never admit it, but I can see the internal conflict in his eyes, his jaw tightening as I'm sure his mind races with the horrid possibilities of what could happen if I'm caught in a place like this.

He moves around the room with purpose, his motions sharp as he buckles his belt. I sit there, watching him carefully, biting the inside of my cheek as a pool of anxiety grows in the pit of my stomach.

His eyes meet mine once more, any emotion in his eyes quickly masked with a cold determination at the thought of facing his father.

"I'll be back," he says coldly, though I can hear through the cracks of his voice a hint of uncertainty that lingers. "Don't do anything stupid."

I nod, letting out an exhale as my brows knit together with worry. There was nothing I could do in this situation, nothing I could say.

He turns towards the door, pausing for a moment as he places his hand on the knob. He swiftly makes his exit, the door clicking shut behind him. Just like that, he was gone. And just like that, I was alone.

I slowly get up from the bed, moving carefully through his room, deathly afraid of making any sound that could draw attention. I tip-toe to his wardrobe, pulling out a pair of boxer shorts and a sweatshirt, my silver dress still sitting in shreds on the floor.

As I pull the sweatshirt over my body, I consider my options. I trust Mattheo, but I couldn't suppress the side of me that was urging me to run. I didn't know how to Apparate. I couldn't walk through the house to the front door without being caught. And the window was far too high off the ground to consider sneaking out that way.

I was stuck.

The weight of the situation truly begins to settle in as I rethink every decision I've made that had landed me in this position. I didn't regret anything, but yet here I was, my heart about to burst through my chest with anxiety.

The silence if deafening, the absence of Mattheo creating a cold atmosphere through the unfamiliar room. I take a deep breath, calming myself down as I take a seat at the end of his bed. My eyes glance at the door, waiting impatiently for his return.

I fiddle with the oversized sleeves of the sweatshirt, taking another deep breath as I inhale the scent of his cologne. In an odd way it was calming, but then my mind grew less worried about myself and more worried about Mattheo.

What if he doesn't come back? What if his father does something to him? What if he gets hurt?

Though my thoughts come to a screeching halt as the silence is broken by the sound of distant voices. My body freezes, I couldn't make out any words, but it was the voice of a woman, having a high, almost cruel hinge to it.

I quickly stand up as the voices grow closer, pressing my back against the wall just behind the door as I silently pray that they'll pass.

But they don't.

The voices grow louder, much more distinct as the deafening sound of footsteps reach the door. I hold my breath in a desperate attempt to conceal my whereabouts. The voice stop suddenly, and for a moment, I think I'm safe.

Just as I think I'm about to come out unscathed, the door knob twists, being pushed open with force. My eyes widen in horror, my hand coming up to cover my mouth as I stay frozen behind the door.

Two women step inside, one with messy, matted hair, and the other much shorter than the first, her hair pulled back into a slick bun. I recognize the first woman immediately. Bellatrix Lestrange. She was a well known killer and loyal follower of the Dark Lord, though only convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom. She had escaped Azkaban last spring along with many other Death Eaters.

"My, my," Bellatrix taunts, her voice sending a chill down my spine. "Look for anything that looks out of place, the Dark Lord is growing suspicious."

It was now or never. Their backs were turned, this was my only chance to escape. Merlin only knows what would happen if Bellatrix caught me. I hold my breath, silently creeping around the door before making a dash for it. I quickly exit down the hall, hyperaware of my surroundings.

My heart pounds rapidly against my chest, desperately trying to seek refuge. The hallway is dimly lit, the candles lined against the walls only fueling my growing panic.

My feet barely make a sound against the cold floor, but yet every step feels deafening in the silence of the house. I wasn't quite sure where I was going—only that I needed to get as far away as possible.

There was a door at the end of the hall that looked promising, the door cast slightly ajar. I peer over to my shoulder to make sure I wasn't being followed before slipping inside, leaving the door slightly cracked open. This room was rather empty, the only piece of furniture being a large wooden desk placed in the very center.

The room was horribly cold, sending a trail of goosebumps over my body. My stomach twisted in a knot, an uneasy sensation taking over. Something wasn't right. Not just about the predicament I had gotten myself into, but this room. I couldn't quite put my finger on it at first, but my body could sense danger before my mind could catch up.

That's when I noticed it.

A small trail of blood smeared across the floor, peaking out from around the desk. My heart dropped to my stomach, my breath becoming shallow. The air was suffocating, as if the walls had been closing in on me. My feet moved before I could think, taking slow, deliberate steps around the desk.

I froze, a sudden wave of nausea hitting my senses like a ton of bricks as my eyes laid upon the sight.

A body laid sprawled on the cold floor, limbs twisted unnaturally, eyes dull and lifeless. Though it wasn't the shell of a stranger. I recognized him—my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

My face twisted in horror and shock, a strangled gasp escaping my throat as I stumble back, my hand flying to my mouth to muffle the sound.

Deep wounds littered his body and neck, blood pooling under his body, seeping through the wooden floor. I wanted to scream. I wanted runaway and never look back. I wanted to escape this nightmare, but my legs refused to move, locking me into place from pure horror and shock.

I let out a breath, whatever air that was in my lungs escaping. My senses were too overwhelmed by my own racing thoughts to notice the soft shuffling around me.

My knees grew weak, ushering my body as I stumble over my own feet, taking a step back. My body comes crashing against a hard chest, a frightened scream emitting from my lips as strong hands gripped my shoulders, slamming my back against the wall.

My heart pounded in my chest as I met his eyes. They held a cold gaze, yet they were a dark shade that seemed so familiar.

I swallow hard, panic settling in my veins as my eyes searched his face. There was something about him—his sharp features, the way his dark eyes seemed to pierce through me, the brown curls falling just so... It was all so recognizable. But I had never met this man.

Before I could make sense of anything, his hand shoots out, wrapping around my throat with an unsettling ease. The pressure was tight, not enough to choke me, but enough to leave me breathless and dizzy.

A gasp escapes my lips, my hands instinctively flying to his wrists to try and pry his grip off, but he didn't budge. His eyes were locked on mine, cold and unreadable, though I could practically feel the smirk that tugged at his lips.

"You're afraid," he speaks up, his voice deep, too calm for my comfort. "I can feel it."

The words sink into me like poison, twisting my gut even further as I struggle one last time against his grip. It was like he was testing me, seeing how much fear he could elicit before I broke.

"Who... are you?" I croak.

He tilts his head, his grip tightening ever so slightly. A flicker of amusement flashes over his dark gaze, his lips curling into a sinister smirk.

"You're asking the wrong questions, witch," he snarls, his voice dangerously low. "The Dark Lord doesn't like intruders."

My breath catches in my throat, my body going rigid under his grip. A fresh wave of panic rolls down my spine at his words, not only at the mention of the Dark Lord, but the nickname that only one other person has called me.

After a moment I finally force myself to speak.

"I–I didn't—"

His fingers press against my delicate skin tighter, cutting off any excuse before I could even make it. My jaw falls open, silently gasping for a breath of air.

"Save it," he murmurs, his eyes flickering over my face, as if studying me like I'm some puzzle for him to figure out. "I'm sure he will be very pleased to finally have Amora Sinclair in his grasp."

As if this moment couldn't get any worse, this man—whoever he is—knows exactly who I am.

I was beyond afraid, past the point of any panic or shock. A violent chill seeps into my bones as my mind begins to race.

"Let. Me. Go." I manage to choke out.

I try again to pry his grip from my throat, my nails dig into his wrist, but he doesn't even flinch. He lets out a small chuckle, clearly finding some sick amusement in my efforts. I grit my teeth together as I meet his gaze, the eerie familiarity still gnawing at me.

He lowers his gaze at me, his eyes darkening with something dangerous. That's when it clicked. The mannerisms, his features, the look in his eyes—it was all to close to him. To Mattheo.

But this wasn't Mattheo.

"Now why would I do that?" he questions, leaning in closer as I could feel his breath fan across my face. "So you could run back to my brother? Why would I do that when I have you here, all to myself?"

My blood ran cold, a deafening silence falling over the room as the only sound to be heard was my hammering heart beat.

Brother?

My mind struggled to process his words, to grasp onto any possible explanation that made sense. But nothing did. Nothing except the terrifying realization that the man who held me in his grasp was not only another descendant of the Dark Lord, but was bound to Mattheo by blood.

Everything began to fall into place, overwhelming everything I thought to be true.

My confused, horror-struck expression must have been enough for him to connect the dots. Mattheo had never mentioned having a brother. Never once.

"He never told you about me?" he muses, tilting his head slightly, letting out a small chuckle. "That's disappointing. Though I'm not surprised."

His words slithered into my mind, wrapping around my thoughts like a vice. I could hardly breathe, not just because of his grip, but the sickening realization that there was still so much I didn't know about the man I had just been so intimate with.

I wanted to believe he was lying, that this was all some twisted trick—but I couldn't ignore the evidence that stared back at me.

"You're lying," I say, my voice coming out much weaker than I intended.

His smirk only seemed to widen, his aura dripping with danger and arrogance.

"Am I?" he taunts. "Or did Mattheo just never trust you enough to tell you the truth?"

His accusation hit hard, like a knife to the stomach, twisting with cruelty.

I clench my jaw, desperately trying to hide how much his words affected me. As much as I tried to fight it, the doubt had already begun to sink in, making me rethink everything I thought I knew.

Which clearly was bloody nothing.

His grip loosened just enough for me to take a sharp breath, though he didn't quite let go. Before I could form a response, the door pushed open with a loud creak, followed by heavy footsteps.

A sense of relief washes over me.

Mattheo stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with deep, seething breaths. His gaze flickers over the scene in front of him, eyes flashing with both anger and realization.

"Tom," Mattheo speaks up, his voice low and strained, barely containing the rage beneath it. "Get the fuck away from her."

Tom rolls his tongue against his cheek, his eyes raking over mine one last time before releasing his grip. He takes a slow step back, a chill rolling down my spine as I feel his gaze lingering on my frame.

A cough escapes my lips as I catch my breath, my fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck as my heart races against my chest.

"Relax, little brother," Tom says, his voice tinged with amusement. "I was merely getting acquainted with your witch."

Before my brain could process what was happening, Mattheo was on Tom in an instant, his fist colliding with Tom's jaw in a sickening crack.

"Mattheo—" I gasp, my hand reaching up to cover my mouth in shock.

But neither of them acknowledge me.

Tom wipes his mouth, his lip split and despite the blood, he let's out a laugh. Mattheo grabs his collar, slamming him against the wall.

"If you ever touch her again, I swear to fucking Merlin—" Mattheo growls.

"You'll what?" Tom's voice cuts in. "Kill me?"

My back was still pressed firmly against the wall, my chest rising and falling quickly as everything began to catch up with me.

My body crumbles, a sudden wave of dizziness overtaking me as the adrenaline crashes all at once. Before I could stop myself, I sink to the floor.

My gaze wanders to the lifeless body that still laid in the room, a sharp ringing filling my ears, muffling the sounds of Mattheo and Tom's heated exchange. I couldn't tear my eyes away, the darkness pulling me in, making it impossible to think, to breathe.

My fingers tremble as they grip my arms, a wave of nausea clawing up my throat.

"Get the fuck out." Mattheo's sharp voice cuts through the haze.

Tears pool in my eyes, still lingering on the cold, lifeless form. The image seemed to burn itself into my mind, the knowledge of it's presence suffocating me. My chest aches with a heavy, guttural pain that threatens to swallow me whole.

There was shuffling next to me, thought my mind couldn't process. My senses have been dulled, everything feeling so distant. Mattheo shoves Tom away with force.

"It's been fun, truly," Tom spat. "I look forward to seeing you again, Amora."

Mattheo's fists clench at his sides, his knuckles turning white. Though his anger seems to dissipate as he notices my form.

I could hear the muffles sound of dress shoes clicking against the floor, a single tear rolling down my cheek as my breath grows shallow, as if there was a pressure on my chest.

Mattheo kneels next to me, his face scrunching with worry. His hand cups my face gently, the warm touch grounding me.

"Amora," Mattheo says softly, his voice urgent, desperate almost. "Look at me."

The sound of his voice shakes me from my daze, pulling me back to reality. I force myself to meet his gaze, his eyes searching mine. My chest was heavy, the air in the room feeling suffocating.

His hand was warm against my cold skin, his thumb brushing over my cheek. For a moment, it felt as if nothing else exists—finding a strange sense of comfort in the intensity of his stare.

"Amora," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just breathe, baby. Everything's gonna be okay."

A shaky breath escapes my lips as I blink, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. I nod slowly as I swallow the lump in my throat.

Mattheo's gaze never falters, the weight of the moment pressing down on us. I didn't know how or what to feel, so overwhelmed by the chaos that has unraveled around me. Though the only thing keeping me tethered to reality was Mattheo.

"We need to go. Now." he says, his voice low.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment before nodding.

"How?" I ask, my voice unsteady.

Mattheo's jaw tightens, his eyes flickering between mine. He stays silent for a moment, his eyes trailing down as if taking in every last detail.

"We can Apparate," he replies. "Anywhere you want."

His hand trails down, fingers brushing against the reddened skin on my neck. He applies a bit of pressure, earning a small wince to escape my lips. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment.

Mattheo gently grasps my chin, forcing me to look at him. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark with something I couldn't quite decipher—anger, maybe even a bit of guilt.

"Did he hurt you?" he questions, his voice was low and controlled, but I could hear the storm of rage brewing inside him.

I swallow hard, my throat tight.

"I'm fine," I whisper, though I'm sure my tone was less than convincing.

I wouldn't say I was lying, but I wasn't exactly telling the truth. Mattheo's thumb brushes against the red markings on my neck, his body tensing as his eyes trail over the bruising skin.

"I should kill him," he mutters.

"Mattheo," I say as I reach up, my hands wrapping around his forearm, forcing him to meet my gaze. "Please. Just take me home."

His eyes soften as they meet mine, his anger seeming to simmer a bit. He stays silent for a moment before giving me a slow nod, letting out a deep breath.

Without another word, he gently grasps my arms, pulling me to my feet. He pulls me close, the warmth of his chest seeps into my skin.

"Hold on," he says, his voice much softer now.

I tighten my grip on him, and in an instant, the world dissolves into darkness. My stomach twists as it felt like I was bring stretched through a tube. As soon as it started, the feeling dissipated.

I stumble slightly as we land, still not quite used to the sensation of Apparation. Mattheo's arms wrap around my waist, steading me. I take a deep breath as I look around our surroundings, the familiarity of my bedroom filling my senses.

We're safe. At least I should feel safe.

Mattheo pulls away slightly, his eyes tracing every inch of my face as if trying to find any indicator as to how I was feeling.

"Talk to me," he murmurs, his voice pleading almost.

"I just—" I pause for a moment, letting a sigh escape my lips. "My brain can't process any of this."

He watches me carefully, his brows knitting together in concern. His hands tighten on my waist slightly as he nods.

I think I was in shock, the severity of the situation still fresh on my brain. I had witnessed death before, but never have I seen a body that mutilated. I had heard the rumors of what Death Eaters were capable of, but seeing it first hand was something else entirely. It didn't feel real, like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

But it wasn't only that which had weighed on my mind. It was the existence of Tom. I had just began to trust Mattheo, and now he supposedly has a brother that he never thought to mention. What else has he been lying about?

"Amora—" he begins as he notices my silence.

"You never told me about him," I cut him off abruptly. "After all this time, you never even thought to mention the fact that you have a brother, Mattheo? Why?"

Mattheo retracts his hands, letting out an exhale as he runs a hand through his messy curls. He shakes his head slightly, his jaw tightening.

"Because it wasn't something you needed to know," he says, a hint of frustration laced in his voice.

A small scoff escapes my lips, my brows furrowing as I look up at him.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" I question. "You have a brother—who also seems to be wrapped up in all this. And you thought I didn't need to know?"

His fists clench slightly, his knuckles turning white. I could see the storm brewing behind his dark eyes, but I didn't care. I wanted answers.

"I was protecting you, Amora," he replies, his voice low.

I cross my arms over my chest, taking a step away from him.

"By lying to me?" I scoff, shaking my head slightly. "You don't get to decide what I need and don't need to know, Mattheo. I trusted you."

Something flickers across his features, something I couldn't quite decipher, but it's gone as quickly as it appears.

"You don't understand, Amora," he says, taking a step closer to me. "You have no idea the things Tom is capable of. You have to believe me when I tell you that it was for your own good."

I let out a sigh, taking a moment to process his words. I wanted to trust him. I really did. But Merlin, he makes it so difficult sometimes.

"You know, people said the same thing about you when you arrived at Hogwarts," I begin, looking up to meet his eyes. "That you were dangerous. That you were capable of all these evil things. And maybe they were right, but I'm still here, Mattheo. We're still here."

I pause for a moment, the weight of my words settling between us. His lips press into a fine line, his jaw tensing.

"I don't know what this is," I gesture between us. "And I want to trust you, Mattheo, but you need to give me a reason to."

He takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine as his hand reaches out, resting against my cheek as he tilts my chin up. His thumb caresses over my cheekbone, his gentle touch a stark contrast from the tension brewing between us.

"No more secrets. No more lies," I whisper.

I find myself getting lost in the warmth of his touch, for a moment everything else disappears. Everything but us.

"I promise," he finally murmurs. "I would never hurt you, Amora."

I swallow hard, his words lingering in my mind, their weight sinking deep. I couldn't help the way my heart fluttered in my chest, despite being left with so many unanswered questions.

I can't explain how things got this way between Mattheo and I. Nor could I explain what was even going on.

But I do know one thing—I don't want it to stop.

———

Chapter 23

"This isn't just some petty drama. This is serious. Like between life and death serious."

~~~

January 12, 1997

The remainder of Christmas break went by rather quickly, and luckily, it was uneventful. I had spent the majority of my time with my mother and Nan, as they wanted to spend as much time with me as they could before I inevitably had to return to school.

I hadn't seen Mattheo since New Year's Day, and I'm not quite sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. I was still so confused about him, and the events over break certainly didn't help to clear anything up.

I'm clearly not very good at coping with the things that happen in my life.

Anyways, this morning was full of tight embraces and emotional goodbyes from Fiona and Nan, as I was leaving for the train. Their love and care surrounded me, pushing away the anxiety that lingered in the air.

As nice as it had been to spend time with my family, I was ready to get back to school. Mostly to see my friends. But there was something so comforting about returning to the familiarity of the castle, a place that felt like home. Even if I wasn't entirely sure what awaited me when I got there.

Platform 9 ¾ was buzzing with students, chatter and laughter filling the air as everyone reunited after the long holiday. The Hogwarts Express loomed ahead, blowing streams of steam into the crisp January morning air.

I clutch my coat tighter against my frame as my eyes search the crowd for any familiar faces. I push my trunk towards the train, allowing the man working to take it and load it onto the train.

I take a deep breath, turning around as I spot Theo, casually leaning against one of the doors of the train, his blue eyes scanning the crowd. My lips curl into a small smile as I make my way towards him, his expression quickly matching mine as he spots me.

"There's our favorite girl," Theo greets, pushing himself off the doors with a smirk.

I roll my eyes, a small laugh escaping my lips as I approach.

"Miss me that much?" I tease.

"You have no idea," he replies.

He pulls me into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around me in a comforting manner. For a moment, I allow myself to enjoy the peacefulness of his embrace. I was never going to admit just how much I had missed him.

"You doing okay?" he murmurs.

I nod against him before pulling away, looking up at him with a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine," I say. "How was Italy?"

His lips press into a fine line as he quickly looks away, his eyes roaming the room as he lets out a sigh before meeting my gaze once again.

"Oh just the usual," he sighs. "Awkward dinners full of passive aggressive remarks, my father pretending that I don't exist unless I do something to disgrace the family name, and my grandparents talking politics. But at least the wine was good."

I give him a sympathetic smile, knowing all too well both the harshness of extended family and the bad situation Theo was entangled in. His jaw clenches slightly, knowing that even with his light-hearted tone, he was only half-joking.

"Oh baby I'm sorry," I frown.

He shakes his head, forcing a smile back onto his lips.

"I'm fine, really. Nothing I'm not used to," he reassures.

I don't entirely believe him, but I wasn't gonna push him any farther, not here anyways. It takes a lot for Theo to open up about that stuff. Whenever it comes up, he pushes it away and covers it up with jokes and humor, but I see how much it can effect him sometimes.

"Well, I'm glad your back," I say, a small smirk tugging at my lips. "I've missed you, Theodore."

He cocks a brow, his usual smirk returning.

"Merlin, must have been a rough holiday if you're calling me Theodore," he teases.

I roll my eyes, a small laugh escaping my lips as I give his shoulder a small nudge.

"Don't push it, Nott," I laugh.

He gives a small shrug, shaking his head slightly. A small silence falls over us for a moment, enjoying the quiet company.

"Come on," he says, changing the subject. "Pansy and them already found a compartment."

I give him a nod, falling into step beside him as we step onto the train, weaving through the crowded aisles. The familiar scent of smoky wood and parchment fills my senses as students push past each other in an attempt to find unoccupied compartments. Theo leads the way as I follow closely behind.

We finally reach the glass compartment, Pansy talking Blaise's ear off about Merlin knows what as Draco stares out the window, his hand fidgeting with his wand carelessly. Pansy's eyes instantly light up as Theo pushes the door open, the both of us stepping inside.

"Amora Sinclair!" she exclaims, getting up from her spot and pulling me into a tight embrace.

A small laugh escapes my lips as I return the hug, giving myself a moment to enjoy the warm sensation.

"Merlin, I missed you, Pans," I mutter.

She pulls away, letting out a small giggle before giving Theo a hug as well as I take a seat next to Blaise. Theo accepts the affection with a chuckle, giving her a small squeeze before plopping in the seat next to me, Pansy returning next to Draco across from us.

"About time you two showed up," Blaise begins, stretching out his legs. "Pansy hasn't shut up since we got here."

Pansy scoffs in return, throwing her hair over her shoulder as she shoots Blaise a glare.

"Don't act like you don't enjoy my company, Zabini," she retorts.

Draco finally tears his attention from the window, his gaze flickering towards Theo and I for a brief moment as if he was going to say something, but he doesn't.

I had gotten used to Draco's distant behavior this year. Things had changed a lot for us all, but we all had different ways of reacting and coping.

The chatter continued for quite a while, going back and forth about the Christmas holiday and our latest family dramas. It was nice—the normalcy of it all. It was a nice distraction from the whirlwind that had been constantly spinning in my mind.

"So, Amora," Pansy continues. "Where did you disappear to at the New Years Party?"

My heart drops in my stomach, my cheeks turning a slight shade of pink at her question. I wasn't sure what I could say to get me out of this situation. Merlin, even if I wanted to tell Pansy, I sure as hell wasn't gonna do it in front of everyone. I swallow hard before clearing my throat through the silence.

"I—uh—ended up going home early," I stumble over my words slightly. "I think I drank too much, I wasn't feeling well."

Theo shifts slightly beside me, feeling his gaze boring into the side of my head. He could always tell when I was lying. Pansy cocks a brow at me, shooting me a suspicious look.

"You left without your jacket?" Pansy questions further, clearly unconvinced.

Shit.

I should have known Pansy wouldn't let it go so easily. I honestly hadn't even thought about what I would tell my friends. They could see through my lies, and it was only a matter of time before all my secrets come crashing down.

"Well I wasn't exactly in my right mind, was I?" I defend.

"It is unlike you to leave without saying goodbye," Theo interjects.

My stomach twists with nerves, my hands fidgeting with the sleeves of my sweater as I try and avoid anyone's gaze.

"We were bloody looking for you for like an hour," Pansy continues, laughing slightly.

I give her a shrug, running a hand through my hair as I slump back in my seat. It was as if I could feel the energy shift, but maybe it was just me.

"Merlin, Pans," Blaise cuts in with a small smirk, his voice light and teasing. "If Amora had a secret midnight fling with a mystery bloke, who are we to ruin the fun?"

My heart flutters in my chest. Fuck.

Pansy lets out a dramatic gasp from across the compartment. I could still feel Theo's eyes practically shooting daggers from beside me.

"Oh it was a mystery bloke!" she exclaims. "Please, spill more."

I roll my eyes, forcing myself to let out a small laugh even as my skin burns. How is it that I've allowed such a man to have such an effect on me?

"There is no mystery bloke," I say firmly. "I just needed a moment to myself, alright? Is that such a crime?"

My answer seems to satisfy Blaise, but Pansy still seems a bit skeptical. Theo, however, remains silent.

I glance over at him, my lips pressed into a fine line as I examine his features. His jaw was clenched ever so slightly, his eyebrows drawn together as if in thought.

Does he know? No—that's impossible. He can't know.

I push away the subtle anxiety that grew in my chest, doing my best to focus on the casual conversation going on in front of me. I had sort of checked out, my mind trailing off to other places, but I contributed here and there.

Draco had finally joined the conversation, as if he had snapped out of whatever depressive trance he had been caught in. I did my best to concentrate on the chatter around me, until one topic really raised my attention.

"Did you guys hear the news about Professor Maybury?" Draco asks, his tone netural.

I feel the familiar wave of nausea clawing at my throat as my mind flashes back to the image of his mangled corpse. The pool of blood, the wounds that littered his skin—it was all still so fresh in my brain.

My nails dig into my palms, both fighting the urge to vomit and trying to keep my expression as neutral as possible.

"What about him?" Blaise questions, his curiosity piqued.

Draco leans back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he shrugs.

"There was some sort of incident over break," he replies cooly. "Rumors are saying he was killed, but the school is being quiet about it."

If only they had known what I knew. I only they had seen what I had seen. My stomach twisted painfully, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

"Well thats...unsettling," Theo mutters after a moment of silence.

Pansy lets out a sight, her fingers playing with the ends of her hair.

"Honestly, with everything that's been happening, are we even surprised?" she asks.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, nodding softly in agreeance. A heavy silence falls over the compartment as everyone processes the news.

Despite my previous knowledge, Pansy did have a point. There have been cases popping up everywhere about missing witches and wizards, some turning up dead and others never to be heard from. Though I think most people know who has been behind it all.

"So who's gonna be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Blaise asks, his brows drawn together in both confusion and thought.

Draco shrugs nonchalantly in return, dropping his arms.

"No idea," he replies. "That position has always been cursed, hasn't it?" he adds, as if the answer was obvious.

Again, he did have a point. Every Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we have had has either died or resigned for suspicious reasons.

"Well I hope they finally find someone competent," Pansy grumbles.

I let out a quiet, humorless laugh, but my mind is elsewhere. The uncertainty of it all was rather unsettling.

~~~

Eventually after a long train ride, we reach the castle at last. The familiar silhouette of Hogwarts covered in a light layer of snow looms against the darkening sky, the lanterns carving a path through the forbidden forest towards the ancient building.

A silence had fallen over us as we rode the carriages, a soft, golden glow cast against our skin as we enjoy the serene ride. A strange feeling of unease settles in my chest as I hug my thick jacket closer against my frame.

The carriages slow to a stop, students beginning to climb out and file into the Great Hall. The sharp chill of the January air nips at my skin, my nose turning a slight shade of pink. The chatter of students could be heard from all around as we take our seats in the Great Hall, the noise filling the grand room.

As every seat is filled and students get settled in, Dumbledore gives a long speech welcoming everyone back. I tune him out, my chin resting against my palm as I stare off into space. My gaze drifts off to the staff table, a noticeable gap between Flitwick and Snape that has yet to be filled.

Maybe they hadn't found anyone to fill the position. Maybe defense classes would simply be cancelled for the year. As horrific as a situation this had been, I suppose that may be the best-case scenario. But Merlin knows Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen.

The feast goes on as per usual, engaging in casual banter as we all fill our plates with generous portions. I ate what I could, but I didn't have much of an appetite at this point.

I mindlessly push the leftover food around with my fork, the conversation around me turning into a blur of noise as I allow my mind to wander elsewhere. I could feel a pair of eyes burning into me, sending a blaze against my skin.

I shift uncomfortably, dropping my fork as I look up. I meet his gaze from across the table. He was sat a bit far from me, yet close enough to see his messy curls falling just above his eyes, close enough to see the slight sparkle in his deep brown eyes.

The logical side of me had dreaded to see Mattheo after everything that had happened. My mind told me that it could never happen again—that I should turn away and never look back. Yet my heart yearned to meet his dark gaze, to get lost in the silent conversation that had always seemed to exist between us.

For a moment, it was as if everything had faded and dulled into the background, leaving the both of us in a torrent of unspoken words and unresolved tension. My heart fluttered in my chest as Mattheo's eyes bore into mine, filled with something I couldn't quite place.

I swallow hard, my fingers curling into fists under the table. I couldn't tear my eyes away, as if there was some gravitational pull that had me in its grasp.

"Amora!" Pansy's voice rang in my ears, snapping me back to the harsh reality.

I pull my attention back towards my friends, an evident sense of confusion written on my features.

"Merlin, we thought we lost you there for a second," Blaise chuckles.

Theo raises a brow at me, clearly just as confused as me. His gaze lingers over me, as if trying to decipher what had me so dazed. Something flashes across his features...complexed maybe?

I clear my throat, forcing out a small laugh in return.

"Sorry, I was just..." I begin, carefully trying to form a non suspicious excuse. "Distracted."

Pansy hums knowingly, a small smirk growing on her lips as she swirls the goblet of pumpkin juice around in her hand.

"Maybe you just need some sleep, Amora," Theo replies.

His sharp gaze never left mine, his voice low as there was less concern and more demand in his tone, catching me slightly off guard. I blink at him, not expecting the edge to his voice.

Theo's usual concern was always comforting to a certain degree, but this was different—almost like he was trying to pry something out of me that I wasn't ready to give. I shake it off, brushing away any odd tension hanging in the air. I force out an amused laugh.

"I think we all do," I say. "It's been a long day."

Draco lets out a low chuckle, his hand reaching up to adjust his tie.

"You can say that again," he mutters.

Shortly after, Dumbledore dismisses us back to the dorms. Students file out of the Great Hall, eager to return to their beds. The night wraps up rather quickly, as Pansy and I head back to our dorm and the boys go back to theirs.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Pansy asks as soon as I shut the door behind us. "You've been so spacey today."

I lock the door, turning around to face her. Concern was etched on her features, her brows drawn together as she crosses her arms over her chest.

I take a deep breath, running a hand through my hair.

"I'm fine, really..." I reply, surely my voice was less than convincing.

Pansy shoots me that 'don't bullshit me' look that usually makes me spill everything. I know she wasn't trying to pry, she was simply the friend that wants you to open up about anything that's on your mind.

"Well, maybe that's not entirely true," I sigh. "But you can't tell a soul, not even Theo."

She grasps my hands in a comforting manner, guiding me to sit on the edge of her bed.

"What's been going on Amora?" she questions.

I close my eyes for a moment, her hands still holding onto mine as I let out a long sigh. I tell her everything, from what happened before break, to the New Years party, and finally what I had witnessed in the Riddle Manor. I left out any overly graphic details, but she learned it all.

A moment of silence loomed over us, my eyes searching hers for any sort of reaction or emotion as she processes everything I had just spilled.

"Oh my," Pansy finally speaks up. "That's... a lot."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, my fingers instinctively tightening around hers. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders to be able to tell someone about what I had been carrying.

"You're telling me," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper as I break eye contact.

She shakes her head slightly, exhaling sharply.

"Merlin, I don't even know where to start," Pansy replies, her voice rather quiet, which is something that doesn't usually happen. "Does anyone else know?"

I shake my head in return, meeting her gaze once again. I couldn't tell if there was more concern or disbelief behind her eyes.

"Just you," I sigh.

Pansy thinks for a moment, her eyes searching mine as she purses her lips into a fine line.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Amora," she finally says. "This isn't just some petty drama. This is serious. Like between life and death serious."

"I know," I reply quickly.

I swallow the lump growing in my throat, biting the inside of my cheek. Pansy lets out a long sigh.

"Listen, I can't tell you what to do with your life, but I don't see any of this ending well," she pauses for a moment before continuing. "But whatever you decide, you know I will always be by your side. No matter what. Just don't let this destroy you."

I give her a small smile, my thumb brushing against the back of her hand.

"Thanks, Pans," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. "I love you, babe."

She wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight, comforting embrace.

"I love you too, idiot," she murmurs against my hair, a slight giggle in her voice.

She gives me a tight squeeze before pulling back. For a moment we both just glance at each other, the weight of the conversation settling between us.

Her lips curl into a small smile, a laugh escaping her lips that caused me to do the same. Pansy lets out a soft sigh, shaking her head slightly before speaking up again.

"Alright, enough of this emotional shit. We need some sleep before we both lose our minds," she says.

"Agreed," I chuckle, grateful for the change in mood.

Pansy and I change and get ready for bed, the warm covers enveloping my frame as I settle in. A comfortable silence falls over the room, the soft sound of blankets ruffling the only sound between us.

I turn on my side, resting my head against my pillow as I stare off into space. Sleep should come easy—I'm bloody exhausted—but my mind refused to quiet.

I exhale softly, forcing myself to push it all away. Not now. Not tonight. Eventually, exhaustion finally wins, pulling me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~~~

Morning comes awfully too quick, sunshine creeping through the small window of the dorm, casting a faint glow over the room. Pansy shuffles around the room, having already been up and ready for the day.

A loud groan escapes my lips, turning over to escape the inevitable of having to get out of bed. My bed felt far too comfortable and warm to leave. I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling my mind begin to drift off again.

"Oh no, you don't," Pansy says before yanking my covers off in one swift motion.

I let out a dramatic whine, curling up as the cold air of the dungeons hits my skin, sending a trail of goosebumps down my body.

"Pans, for the love of Merlin, have some mercy," I exclaim.

"Nope. You're not missing class on my watch," she replies quickly.

My eyes flutter open to shoot her a glare. She only smirks in return, her arms crossed over her chest as she glances down at me.

"You're cruel, you know that?" I grumble.

Pansy laughs softly in return as I flip over on my back, running a hand over my face tiredly.

"And yet, you'd be lost without me," she shoots back.

"Debatable," I mutter under my breath in a sarcastic manner.

She rolls her eyes, smirk still evident on her lips as she turns back around, returning to whatever it was she was doing before ruining my morning.

"Now get up, we're going to miss breakfast," Pansy adds.

I sit up, stretching my limbs as a loud yawn escapes my lips.

"Just go without me, I'll meet you at Potions," I say, resting against my palms.

Pansy's head snaps in my direction, raising a skeptical brow at me.

"Absolutely not," she replies quickly.

"Come on, Pans," I begin. "I'm not very hungry and I'm too tired to move right now. I promise, I will go to class."

She lets out a sigh, turning back towards her mirror.

"I suppose," she says as she adjusts her robes. "But I'm not gonna let this slide tomorrow."

A triumphant grin spreads on my lips as I glance over at her.

"Wouldn't expect anything less," I reply, my voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Pansy shoots me a look before slinging her bag over her shoulder. She heads for the door, turning to look back at me one last time.

"I better see you in potions, Amora," she says, her voice somewhat laced with amusement.

And with that, she disappears out the door. I exhale softly, letting my head fall back against my pillow as silence falls over the room. I consider closing my eyes—just for a few minute—but that never actually ends up being the case.

Eventually, I get up, going through the familiar routine of getting ready for classes. The cold dungeon air makes me shiver as I slide on my robes, trying to shake off the sluggishness of my movements.

To my surprise, I make it to potions on time. And to another surprise, Mattheo actually showed up to class. His eyes follow me as I enter the classroom, lingering on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

I take my seat next to him, though neither of us say a word. It was typical Mattheo Riddle behavior, yet I found it strange after everything that has happened between us.

Potions class comes and goes, Snape having given another long, boring lecture. Not a word was shared between us. I had waited for him to say something, anything. A sarcastic remark, a teasing comment, even a scoff or a mutter under his breath—something to even acknowledge me. But he remained quiet, his attention focused on the lesson in front of him.

It was almost worse than the alternative.

As class ends, I gather my things slowly, stealing a glance in his direction. He meets my gaze, and for a moment, I think he's about to say something. But he doesn't. Instead, he stands up, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walks away without a word.

So that's how it's going to be.

I roll my eyes as I watch him briskly walk out of the classroom, grabbing my own bag as I head out as well. I shouldn't care, and yet I do. I couldn't quite understand why something so little had bothered me so much.

Theo catches up with me as I make my way through the bustling corridors, the hum of chattering students filling the air around us.

"Missed you at breakfast this morning," Theo says as he throws an arm around my shoulder.

I let out a small laugh, glancing over at him.

"Yeah, well I barely scathed by," I reply. "Pansy nearly dragged me out by the hair."

Theo laughs in return, shaking his head slightly as we push our way through the sea of students.

"Sounds like Pansy," he laughs.

"So is there any word on Maybury?" I ask, changing the conversation.

Obviously I had known the real answer. Though I was more curious as to if there was any word on his replacement.

"Nope," Theo replies with a shrug. "I assume we're still expected to show up. But there wasn't anyone in his spot at the head table last night."

I hum in response, my eyes fixed in front of us as we quickly approach the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"I guess we'll find out," I mutter.

We take our usual seats, students filing in as the seats quickly fill up. The room was rather quiet, the only sound being the low whispers of students finding their places.

The bell rings, signaling the start of class. As if on cue, a man briskly walks through the classroom door, heading towards the front of the room.

He grabs a piece of chalk, quickly scribbling something down. He speaks up before turning around, his voice low and controlled.

"I expect you all to be well prepared for class today," he speaks up, his back still turned to the class.

It takes me a moment, the familiarity of the man's voice eating away at me. Finally he turns around, my heart dropping in my stomach as the realization dawned on me.

The words 'Professor Riddle' were written in a perfect cursive pattern on the board behind him.

The air in the room seems to shift, the weight of the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. My stomach twists with nerves as my mind races. Professor Riddle. Tom Riddle.

His sharp gaze points directly at me with an intensity I had seen before, sending a chill down my spine. The resemblance was unmistakeable—the same chiseled features, tousled curls, dark eyes that could shoot daggers straight through you. Though Tom had carried himself in a much colder manner, one that demanded respect and authority.

A wave of confusion washes over me, my heart pounding in my chest.

This cannot really be happening, right?

———

Chapter 24

"Did you know I've come up here every night hoping you'd show?"

~~~

There's just no way. There is no way Dumbledore could allow such a man to be teaching here.

Maybe my eyes were deceiving me. Maybe I would wake up from this nightmare at any moment.

I could feel the color drain from my face, his eyes piercing into mine. My hands clench against the desk, knuckles turning white as I grip the wood tightly.

Tom Riddle stood at the front of the silent classroom, perfectly composed. His lips press into something that wasn't quite a smirk, but his expression told me that he knew exactly how much he'd rattled me.

"I'm not going to waste my time answering any inane questions," Tom says, his voice smooth and precise as he begins to pace the front of the room. "I will be taking over for Professor Maybury. End of discussion."

The class sat in a dead silence, though I couldn't quite hear over my pounding heartbeat.

His strong presence was unshaken, completely indifferent by the obvious tension suffocating the room. But I know better. He thrives on the control, on the power.

I swallow the growing lump in my throat, forcing myself to shift my gaze away.

Mattheo sat across the room, rigid in his chair with his jaw clenched, his fingers curled into tight fists atop his desk. He doesn't look back, his gaze fixed on his brother. His expression was hard, as if carved into stone. Though I could sense the growing fury simmering between the cracks.

He had to have known. And yet again, he never told me.

The lies were simply piling up.

My jaw clenches, turning my attention back to the front as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Let's begin," Tom says.

He stops pacing, his eyes finding mine once again, his gaze lingering for a second too long. His lips twitch upward, a silent promise ghosting along his expression.

Tom turns back to the board, quickly scribbling something down in a smooth motion. He turns back around, his hands folded behind his back. The word 'Crucio' was written on the black board in the same cursive pattern as before.

"Now I will make the assumption you have all learned about the Unforgivables, yes?" Tom questions.

There was a moment of hesitation before student's slowly began to nod, some still too stunned to make any sudden movements.

My arms tighten against my chest, pressing against my ribs as I fight the urge to glance back at Mattheo. The weight of his silence was just as deafening as the presence of his brother.

Theo shifts beside me. I can feel his eyes on me, burning with a quiet concern.

"Amora," he mutters, quiet enough to where only I can hear. It's not a question, not really.

Unfortunately, Theo could always read my body language all too well—he always knew when something was wrong or off in some way.

I don't answer. I can't.

I peer over at him, shaking my head slightly. His brows were drawn together, riddled with concern or confusion. I keep my arms crossed, my nails digging into my skin as I force my eyes back towards the front of the room.

"Good," Tom muses, stepping forward with careful, precise movements. "Then you should all be aware that the Cruciatus Curse is more than just a concept in a textbook. It is known as the torture curse."

Tom's dark eyes sweep the room as students scramble to retrieve their parchment, scribbling down notes.

"It is said to create unimaginable, all-consuming pain on the victim. Enough to drive one to insanity. It is not meant to kill, but to break a victim."

The scratching of quills against parchment was the only sound that dared break the heavy silence. I kept my breath as steady as I could, my heart feeling as if it would burst from my chest at any moment.

I wanted to run out of the room. Nausea clawed up my throat, my mind clouded with thoughts.

It was no mere coincidence that the man that just so happened to find me in the Riddle Manor with Professor Maybury's body was now stepping in as replacement. Nothing made sense.

"Now, can anyone tell me what is required for the Cruciatus to be effective?" he asks.

No one moves.

Tom waits. Patient. Expectant.

Slowly, a hand from the back of the room raises. A Ravenclaw girl that I didn't know too well—Eloise something.

"The intent, sir," she speaks up, her voice small.

Tom's lips curl into a satisfied smirk, his eyes beaming with an unreadable expression.

"Correct," he drawls. "The Cruciatus Curse is not merely about the incantation or the wand movement—it requires the genuine desire to inflict suffering. Which is why most wizards are incapable of casting it."

I wondered if Mattheo or Tom had ever used the Cruciatus. Knowing who their father is, Merlin only knows the tasks they've had to perform. I didn't want to think about it, but truth be told, I really didn't know what either of them were truly capable of.

The class ended without warning. The final words from Tom faded into a blur, and I realized I hadn't absorbed any of the last part of the lesson. I'd been lost in my own tangled thoughts.

"Dismissed," Tom said coldly, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before returning to his desk.

The students began to shuffle out quickly, reality sinking in like a ton of bricks. I toss my bag over my shoulder, my feet moving before I could think as I quickly descend down the hallway.

Everything is changing.

~~~

"I'm just saying, I bet McGonagall was pretty fit back in her days at Hogwarts," Theo says, shoving a mouthful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

Blaise snorts out a laugh as I roll my eyes at Theo's stupid comments. The Great Hall was bustling with students as dinner commenced, the enchanted ceiling casting a bright glow in the large room.

"Agree to disagree, mate," Blaise shrugs, lifting up his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Merlin, how did we get on this topic?" I interject, shaking my head at both boys.

I tear off a small piece of bread from the roll on my plate, taking a bite. I still didn't have much of an appetite—too much on my mind, but I needed to eat.

"Just trying to lighten the mood," Theo replies, a hint of playfulness laced in his tone.

He shoots me a cheeky smirk, bringing his fork back up to his lips.

"You know it's things like this that make me wonder why I'm friends with you lot," Pansy says, pushing around the contents of her plate with her fork.

"Oh, please," Blaise scoffs sarcastically. "You'd be lost without us."

Pansy cocks a brow at Blaise, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Debatable," she retorts, though the small glint in her eye gives away her amusement.

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head slightly as I turn my attention back to my plate, stabbing my fork into a piece of chicken.

"So, any bets on how long before Professor Riddle loses it on a student?" Blaise asks, leaning towards Theo.

"I'll give it a week, tops," Draco chimes in, his usual expression void of any emotion.

I force out a quiet laugh, but deep down, I know Tom Riddle isn't the type to lose control. No, he's the type to make sure everyone else does.

Theo hums, tapping his fork against his plate.

"A week? You're giving him too much credit, mate," Theo says. "I say three days before some idiot steps out of line and he makes an example of them."

"Merlin knows that idiot will be you," I shoot, sending him a playful smirk.

He lowers his eyes at me, his expression laced with a false sense of annoyance.

"Five sickles says he makes a Gryffindor cry first," Pansy adds.

Blaise smirks, turning towards Pansy.

"Ten says it's Weasley," he says.

Draco lets out a scoff, which seems to be his typical reaction whenever a Weasley—or any Gryffindor for that matter—is mentioned.

"Which one?" Malfoy questions.

"Does it matter?" Blaise snickers.

I roll my eyes in a playful manner as I take a sip from my glass, shaking my head slightly.

"You lot are feeling extra cruel today," I add.

"It's just honestly, love," Theo replies.

He slings his arm around my shoulders, looking down at me with that familiar grin plastered on his lips.

"Plus, you're the one who's gonna want in on my money when I win," he continues before turning his attention back to our friends. "Fifteen says it's Granger."

Pansy hums, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Granger is a solid guess, but I think she's too smart for that," Pansy says.

Blaise lets out a small snort, setting his fork down next to his plate.

"Smart doesn't mean immune to a mental breakdown," he replies. "Especially not with someone like that controlling a classroom."

Draco chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He wouldn't even have to raise his voice. One look and he could have half the first-years pissing themselves," Draco snickers.

They all laugh in response as I press my lips together to hide a smile, though an unsettling feeling grows inside me at the same time. They didn't know what I knew—haven't seen what I've seen. Not that I knew much. It's been radio silence from the Riddles.

Radio silence that's been driving me bloody insane.

But from what I do know, I have a feeling things are going to get a hell of a lot worse.

The remainder of dinner went by as usual, casual chatter and remarks flying around the room and the occasional clatter of silverware against china. From the outside everything seemed normal—just another night at Hogwarts. But beneath the surface, I couldn't shake the weight pressing down on my chest.

I hate when people worry too much about me, which is why I tend to mask my feelings and avoid my problems. But there's only so much a girl can take before she snaps.

Theo, Draco, Blaise, Pansy, and I headed back to the common room, the cold air of the dungeons clinging to the atmosphere around us. The familiarity of it always brought a strange sense of comfort. Though it isn't just the castle—it's the people.

Going into Hogwarts as a nervous little first-year, I would have never imagined being where I am today. Life wouldn't be the same without them. Although, it's a bittersweet feeling. The world is full of uncertainty, especially as the Ministry and the Wizarding World as we know it begins to crumble. And the people I love most seem to be caught in the mess. But I couldn't think of that—not now anyways.

"You're awfully quiet," Theo nudges my shoulder as we walk through the entrance to the common room.

His words pull me back into reality, his voice soft to avoid anyone else's attention.

"Just thinking," I reply, meeting his gaze.

"Dangerous habit," he teases, shooting me a small smirk.

I didn't answer. Instead I give him a shrug, a small smile tugging at my lips.

What was I even supposed to say?

I turn my attention back ahead of us, Theo's eyes studying me for a moment longer as if trying to read between the lines of everything I'm not saying.

"C'mon," he says, tilting his head towards the couches where the others had sprawled out.

I follow him over, taking the seat between Theo and Blaise—Draco and Pansy across from us. Theo wraps his arm around my shoulder, his fingers tracing gentle shapes around my shoulder. It's as if he knows exactly how to quiet the storm inside of my head, bringing me a sense of peace that very few can reach.

The fire crackles next to us, casting a warm glow that flickers over the common room. Conversation flows around me like a gentle current—talk of classes, jokes, the latest gossip, random thoughts, and everything in between.

"How is it that sixth year is already half way over?" Pansy sighs, tossing her legs over over Draco's lap. "It feels like it just started."

"You can say that again," I mutter, resting my head against Theo's shoulder.

Blaise lets out a small laugh, turning towards me.

"Probably because you've slept through most of it," he snickers.

I shoot him a playful glare, rolling my eyes as I fight back the smile tugging at my lips.

"Oh shut it, Zabini," I shoot back. "Excuse me for valuing my beauty rest."

Blaise raises his hands in surrender, a smug smirk growing on his lips.

"No complaints here," he replies with a playful wink. "Clearly doing you wonders."

Theo groans, grabbing the pillow next to him and tossing it at Blaise with poor aim.

"Merlin, Zabini, have some decency," Theo says.

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Nott," Blaise retorts, catching the pillow with ease and tucking it behind his head.

"You two are actually ridiculous," I laugh.

Pansy snorts out a laugh, sinking farther into the couch.

"Honestly, can you two go five minutes without acting like children?" she questions.

"Come on, Pans, this is them being mature," Draco snickers.

Theo chuckles next to me, his arm still wrapped tightly around me.

"Sad isn't it," Theo says, his voice laced with both sarcasm and amusement.

"Absolutely tragic," I add, nudging him with my elbow.

Blaise sighs dramatically, placing a hand against his chest.

"You all wound me. I am a delight," he replies.

"More like a walking headache," Pansy mutters, the smirk on her lips betraying her fondness.

Theo, Draco, and I laugh at Pansy's remark while Blaise rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in defeat.

"Mark my words, one day you'll all look back and miss my charm," Blaise says.

Pansy and Blaise continue bickering for a bit longer, clashing both of their stubborn attitudes together. Theo leans in slightly, his voice low enough so only I could hear.

"It's nice to see that smile again," he whispers to me.

"Yeah?" I ask, looking up to meet his gaze.

He nods softly, his bright eyes never leaving mine.

"Yeah."

~~~

The remainder of the week went by rather quietly. I still hadn't heard a word from Mattheo, which was definitely starting to eat away at me. It was messing with my head. I wondered if he felt the same, or if maybe I was just crazy. Either way, I couldn't take it much longer.

I was bombarded with homework and essays the first week back, which I suppose is to be expected. Anytime I wasn't in class or doing homework, I was with my friends or sleeping. It was like an ongoing cycle. Breakfast. Class. Homework. Dinner. Common room. Sleep. Repeat.

Speaking of classes, Professor Riddle had met his cold, strict expectations. In fact he actually did manage to make Ron Weasley shed a tear or two. Luckily I hadn't had much one-on-one interactions, but his stare was enough to make a chill run down my spine.

His eyes were so empty and cold, yet there was a sense of darkness that lingered. It was like they could pierce right through your soul with precision. He knew exactly what he was doing.

I tried to keep my head down—the last thing I needed was to draw his attention.

But as the days dragged on, it wasn't him who filled my mind.

It was Mattheo.

He was actually showing up to class, yet I received nothing but silence. Every time I turned a corner, or walked into class or the Great Hall, I found myself looking for him. Hoping he'd be there.

I told myself I didn't care. That maybe it was better this way. That maybe what happened between us was just a one-time thing. That it was all just a big mistake. That I needed to let it go.

But I couldn't. I can't.

Maybe I was the pathetic one.

To be quite honest, I'm not even sure what version of him is real anymore. The boy who kissed me like he couldn't breathe without me—or the one who now won't even look in my direction.

But where was he now? The way he looked at me like I was the only thing holding the world together. Like I meant something. Where was the boy who made so many promises with his eyes yet left me alone with so many questions?

I didn't have the answers. But I'm starting to believe maybe he doesn't either.

But enough of that. I'm not going to sit there waiting for a door that may never open.

The sound of Pansy closing the door to our dorm breaks me out of my thoughts. I close my little black journal, tucking it away in the drawer of my desk.

"Hey, baby," she says, tossing her bag on her bed.

I turn towards her, shooting her a small smile as she kicks off her shoes and sheds off her jacket.

"Hey, Pans," I reply, hugging my knee against my chest. "Now where have you been all evening?"

Her lips curl into a smile as she takes a seat on the edge of her bed, turned towards me.

"Draco and I went to Hogsmede," she says, crossing one leg over the other.

"How scandalous," I tease.

She rolls her eyes, a small laugh escaping her lips.

"What can I say?" Pansy shrugs. "We both needed a little distraction."

"A distraction you say?" I reply in a suggestive tone.

It takes her a moment to process my implication, a soft scoff falling from her lips as she attempts to hide her smile. I rest my chin on my knee, a small smirk playing on my lips. Pansy narrows her eyes at me.

"Don't even start," she says, her smile betraying her stern tone.

"Oh come on," I sigh. "I'm just trying to live vicariously through you. I think I might explode if I spend another boring night in the dungeons. And it's not my fault you two are giving the entire castle more things to gossip about."

Pansy tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, leaning back against her palms.

"Well someone has to keep it interesting around here. May as well be me." she replies.

"Merlin, I hope to be as selfless as you one day," I laugh, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Pansy laughs as well, her expression softens.

"But seriously...how are you doing?" she asks.

I hesitate for a moment, as if this is some difficult question. But in this moment, it was.

"I'm fine," I shrug.

"You always say that," Pansy says, shooting me a look.

A sigh escapes my lips as my fingers absentmindedly tug at the sleeves of my sweatshirt.

"I don't know, Pans... I just feel like I'm at an impasse. Like I'm just kinda stuck in this spot that I can't move away from," I reply.

Her eyes linger on me for a moment, as if trying to decipher the right words to say.

"You don't have to figure it all out at once, love. You're allowed to feel a little lost or confused," she expresses.

"Thanks, Pans," I say, giving her a small smile before dropping my gaze to my hands. "I just feel kinda pathetic. I just wish I could stop thinking about him."

Maybe he was right. Maybe I am the pathetic one.

"Mattheo Riddle really did a number on you, huh?" Pansy exhales.

I nod slowly, my lips pressed into a fine line.

"Yeah... he really did," I mutter.

Pansy pauses for a moment, pushing herself off the bed and heading in my direction. She grasps my hands, pulling me up from my chair before wrapping her arms around me, embracing me in a tight hug.

"You're not pathetic," she says softly in my ear. "You're human. You cared. That's not something to be ashamed of."

I close my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to relish in the comfort of Pansy's arms. Her words settle somewhere deep inside me, sinking in.

"I love you, Pans," I sigh.

"Oh baby, I love you too," she mutters.

She gives me one last squeeze before pulling back, her hands still resting against my shoulders.

"You're like my own therapist," I smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Please, I'd be a terrible therapist," she scoffs playfully. "I'd just hex the people who've wronged you and call it a day."

I let out a small laugh as Pansy turns around, heading towards her wardrobe to change.

"Honestly, I'd pay to see that," I say.

I pull back the covers of my bed before settling in, sinking into the comfortable warmth of my blankets.

"Don't give me any ideas," she says, pulling an oversized shirt over her head. "You know I'll actually do it."

I lay my head against my pillow, turning over to face her as she settles into her own covers.

"And that's what makes it even better," I smirk.

"Oh shut it and go to sleep," Pansy laughs before clicking the bedside lamp off.

Darkness fills the room, a comforting silence following shortly behind that basks in the vulnerability and quiet understanding of the room.

I attempt to close my eyes for a moment, but I quickly give up. I sit up against my pillows, hugging my knees against my chest as I watch the moonlight shine through the glass window, casting a faint glow against the dark room.

I wish I could turn off my brain. Just flick a switch and drown out every passing thought. I look at the bed next to me, Pansy already fast asleep as soft breaths escape her lips.

I sit in the peaceful silence for a while, letting it wrap around me like a blanket. I lean my head back against the wall, staring at the stars just beyond the moonlight that danced around the room.

My thoughts refused to still. I considered taking a vile of Dreamless Sleep, but I decided against it. I hated the way it made me feel. I just chose to simply exist for a while.

Each second that went by felt longer than the last as I sit there, consumed by the kind of delicate stillness that only seems to occur at night. I was growing restless, the low hoots of owls from the Owlery could so faintly be heard.

With a sigh I pull the sheets off my body, sliding on a pair of slippers before silently disappearing through the dorm door.

The common room is cloaked in shadows, the dying embers in the fireplace casting a warm, soft glow over the cold stone walls. I take quiet steps, careful to not disturb the rare peace that had taken over the room.

It was oddly quiet for a Friday night. Maybe it was the post-holiday depression. Or the stress of the back-to-school work load. Not that I was complaining. I'm sure next week everyone will be back to their usual antics.

I walk through the familiar empty halls. It had been far too long since I had taken a night walk in the tranquil corridors of the castle. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about it.

I run my fingers along the cold stone walls, following wherever my feet take me. Though, deep down, I know where they're taking me—where my heart really wants to go.

I take the long, winding pathway of stairs up to the Astronomy tower, each step echoing softly. By the time I reached the top, the air seemed to shift—colder, thinner, touched by the sky.

I hug my sweater closer against my body, stepping along the stone platform as the cold January air nips at my skin. I stop at the balcony, leaning against the railing as I stare up at the sky. The stars shimmered in the darkness, the moon shinning brightly against my skin.

The view was breathtaking. I hadn't realized how much I missed the view until now. The old castle was still covered in a thick layer of snow, winter in full swing. I take a deep breath, exhaling like a cloud of smoke from the contrast of warm and cold.

The tower I had once found such solace in, was now tainted with memories. They may not have been all... positive, but they were all him.

My eyes wander the sky, taking in every shimmering star. It all made me feel small in the best way possible. The universe is endless, there's so much more out there. It made my problems fizzle away, even just for a moment.

But then, I feel it—a quiet shift in the air.

I could sense the familiar presence step next to me. I didn't have to look to know who it was.

For a moment, he just stands there, soaking in the silence as he peers up at the sky above us. I could feel my heart rate begin to speed up. His presence was impossible to ignore, yet I couldn't bear to look at him.

"Stay away from him, Amora," Mattheo speaks up after long moments of silence.

What?

Not only did I not know what the hell he was talking about, but he hasn't spoken to me since New Years, and thats what he decides to go with?

"Excuse me?" I scoff, finally turning to face him.

Mattheo's eyes were already on me, dark and unreadable, his jaw clenched slightly as the moon highlights his sharp features.

"You heard me," he says, his voice low, almost like a warning. "Tom. Stay away from him. I'm serious."

My lips part, stunned—but the confusion quickly flickers into anger.

"You haven't spoken to me since we returned to school, and that's what you came here to say?" I question, my voice raising. "Not a 'hello' or 'how are you' or a damn apology for disappearing on me, but a fucking command? You're unbelievable."

Mattheo doesn't flinch, he just watches, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not trying to control you," he finally says. "I'm trying to protect you."

I let out a hollow laugh, tearing my gaze away for a moment before meeting his stormy, dark eyes once again.

"Protect me?" I exclaim. "Don't even go there, Mattheo."

He takes a step closer, barely a breath of space between us now.

"You don't know him like I do. I didn't even fucking know he was coming until he showed up on the first day," he argues. "I know him, Amora. And I know he's gonna go after you."

I shake my head slightly, not exactly knowing what to believe.

"Well he's my teacher, so he's not exactly easy to avoid," I snap back. "And that still doesn't explain why you've been avoiding me. You just ran off and pretended I didn't exist. You don't get to just show up and throw demands and accusations at me. Especially not after what we—"

I stop myself.

After we what, Amora?

His jaw tightens again, his eyes searching mine as he lowers his gaze at me. For a second, I saw it. Like a flicker of regret.

"You think I wanted to stay away?" he asks, his voice hoarse. "Do you know how hard it has been for me to keep my distance?"

I let out a breath, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"I never wanted you to stay away, Mattheo!" I say. "So, why? Why did you push me away like I'm just some hookup that meant nothing?"

He presses his lips into a fine line, his eyes practically burning a hole into me.

"Is that what you think?" he asks, voice rough, barely above a whisper.

"What else am I supposed to think?" I say quietly.

He shakes his head slightly, his expression shifting with different emotions. Anger, desperation, maybe even guilt.

"You mean so much more to me than that, Amora," he states. "I had to stay away because I don't know how to do this," he gestures between us. "I don't know how to be with you and not put you in danger. I thought that it would be easier this way, but it's not."

I swallow hard, my eyes searching his, finding sincerity.

"You don't get to make those decisions for me," I mutter. "I knew exactly what I was getting into with you, but I chose to anyways, Mattheo, because I feel something for you."

He stays silent for a moment.

"The truth is, whether you're in my life or not, I will still be in danger. So, no. You don't get to decide what is easier for me. Because this has been hell." I go on.

He clenches his jaw, closing the space between us. The familiar smell of cigarettes and cologne fills my senses, making my heart skip a beat.

"I know I fucked up, and for that, I'm so fucking sorry," he says. "You're everywhere, Amora. In my head. In my chest. Even when I try to make you disappear, I can't. I can't stop thinking about you and it's driving me insane."

My breath catches in my throat, my chest tightening at his confession. I was at a loss for words as silence takes over, the only sound being both of our uneven heartbeats.

"Did you know I've come up here every night hoping you'd show?" he asks quietly, his voice low. "And when I finally saw you here tonight, I just—" he pauses for a moment. "I had to say something, anything. And I can't stand the thought of him getting close to you. Not when I know what he's capable of. Not when I know how he works."

"And what about you?" I whisper, moving impossibly closer. "What are you capable of, Mattheo?"

He doesn't answer right away, his gaze dropping to my lips for a moment before meeting my eyes once again.

"Hurting you," he replies, the words like broken glass on his tongue. "And loving you. Both. I think I'm capable of both."

The words hang between us, sharp and honest and aching. My heart feels like it could burst from my chest.

"I don't care," I mutter. "Not if it means feeling the way I feel for you."

Then, before I could second guess myself or let the fear and doubt creep back in—I close the gap between us.

Our lips clash together in an emotional, fiery kiss. He wastes no time, one hand wrapping around my waist, the other around the back of my neck, pulling me closer as if afraid I would disappear.

In his arms, everything else fades—until it's just him, and me, and the truth burning between us.

———

Chapter 25

"Are you blackmailing me, Malfoy?"

~~~

January 19, 1997

I never liked secrets.

The truth always eats away at me. But I was good at keeping them. Well, in most cases that is.

Though lately, the secrets just seem to keep piling up, overlapping each other. I hate it. I hate the lying, the scheming, the theatrics of it all. But maybe some secrets are better kept buried.

I stare at the ceiling above my bed, the morning light casting a bright glow across the fabric of the canopy as I try and muster the energy to get up and get ready. Exhaustion seemed to be winning the battle this morning.

Truth be told, I had gone to see Mattheo last night. We just talked. And smoked. Like how it was before everything got complicated. Well, I guess it's always been complicated. Anyhow, it was nice. But deep down, I was cursing myself for the three hours of sleep I got.

"Amora," Pansy hums from across the room as she grabs her robes from her wardrobe. "You're going to be late if you keep sulking in bed."

"I'm not sulking," I mutter tiredly, running a hand over my face. "I'm... conserving energy."

Pansy lets out a laugh, shutting her wardrobe with a click.

"You sound like Theo," she snorts.

I drag myself upright with a groan, throwing my legs over the side of the bed.

"Well, he learned his attitude from someone," I shoot her a cheeky smirk.

She rolls her eyes in a playful manner before returning to her morning tasks. I stretch my limbs as I reluctantly stand up, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into my warm covers. I begin getting ready for the day, simply going through the familiar steps of my routine.

The usual sounds of rustling clothing and things being tossed around fills the room, but beneath it all, I couldn't stop thinking of last night. The way Mattheo's eyes shinned in the moonlight, how his voice sounded when he told me he missed me. Merlin, I just can't get him out of my mind.

By the time we head down to Potions, the castle is lively with chatter and crowded hallways as students rush to make it to class on time. The cold air of the dungeons nips at my skin as I hug my robe tighter around my body.

Pansy rambles on about the possible Slytherin party being planned this Friday as we walk through the class, before having to go our separate ways.

I slip into my seat, my partner no where to be found. Maybe Mattheo was back to his usual self— skipping class and avoiding responsibility.

Potions drags on as per usual, Professor Snape's dull drawl making time tick by extra slowly. Today's lesson was discussing Valerian Root, how the sedative properties work to make draught of peace and draught of living death.

I tap my fingers against my textbook, resting my cheek against my palm as I silently beg for class to end. It was odd, I really liked the concept of potions, but Snape makes it difficult to pay attention.

I quickly gather my things as Snape dismisses the class, students rushing their way to the exit. I sling my bag over my shoulder as Theo approaches with a smirk.

"Morning sunshine," he greets with his usual teasing tone. "You're looking extra chipper this morning."

I roll my eyes at him as we head towards the door.

"You're hilarious, Theodore," I reply.

He chuckles, that signature smug grin taking over his features as he falls into step beside me.

"You know, I try," he says.

We make our way through the crowded hallways, headed towards Defense Against the Dark Arts. Things had lightened up a bit since the first class, but there was still a sense of thick, unspoken tension in the air.

As we approach the classroom, I get a feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe it was a gut feeling, maybe it was nerves or anxiety, I'm not sure.

"I'm gonna go to bathroom quick," I look up at Theo. "I'll meet you in class."

He narrows his eyes for a moment before giving me a slight nod.

"Alright, but don't be too long," he replies, his voice softer than before. "Wouldn't want you to face the wrath of Riddle for being late."

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head slightly as I veer off.

"Merlin forbid," I call out after him.

I watch Theo disappear through the door, the corridors becoming sparse as the clock ticked closer to 10. I turn back around, the click of my shoes echoing off the stone floors.

A gasp escapes my lips as someone suddenly pulls me into an empty classroom, pushing my back up against the wall as I drop my bag to the floor. Though before I even had time to react, his lips were on mine. I didn't even have to look to know who they belonged to.

The kiss was urgent—desperate, even, as if he was gasping for air and I was his only source of oxygen. My fingers entangle in his tousled brown curls, the other hand grasping onto his robes.

He pulls back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against mine, his breath hot and uneven.

"What're you doing?" I ask, panting softly.

He lets out a small chuckle, his breath fanning across my lips as his eyes meet mine.

"I couldn't wait," he mutter, his voice low and rough. "I told myself I would, but—I saw you this morning and I couldn't help myself."

My lips curl into a small smile, my eyes searching his.

"We're gonna get caught, Mattheo," I say.

"I don't care," he replies without a second thought. "We're finally okay again."

His fingers graze against my cheek as he brushes a stray hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His touch is gentle—far too gentle coming from Mattheo Riddle.

Maybe I had finally been the person to crack his rough exterior. Even just a little bit.

"Whatever this is," I murmur, my hand resting against his chest. "It's risky, you know that, right? If anyone finds out..."

He presses his lips back against mine, silencing me with a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulls away, his eyes are darker, filled with a resolve I hadn't expected from him.

"I already told you, angel," he replies, his voice low. "I don't care. Not right now."

"Well, when reality settles in, we can continue this conversation," I say.

His lips curl into a half-smile, his eyes scanning over my face before he pushes himself off the wall behind me.

"We should get to class anyways, we're already late," I add.

He lets out a breath, rolling his eyes as his usual arrogance takes over.

"Right," he drawls, obvious sarcasm lingering in his tone. "Can't be late to Professor Riddle's bullshit."

I pick up my bag off the floor, slinging it over my shoulder as I run a hand through my hair.

"You already skipped first period, you should go to class," I shoot back.

He lowers his eyes at me, clenching his jaw slightly as I push the door open, still facing him.

"Fine," he reluctantly agrees.

"Really?" I ask, a triumphant smile growing on my lips.

We step into the empty corridor, Mattheo closing the door behind him. We fall into step, side by side as we make our way down the hallway.

"Only because you asked," he replies, his eyes flickering down at me before returning to the path ahead of us.

I try not to let my smile get too smug.

"You're so obedient," I tease.

"Don't push it," he scoffs in return.

A small laugh escapes my lips, shaking my head slightly as we approach the dreaded doors of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"You go in first," I turn towards Mattheo. "That way it doesn't look suspicious."

We both come to a stop as Mattheo turns towards me, a smirk playing on his lips as he peers down at me.

"You're a smart girl, Amora," he says before descending through the doors of the classroom.

I wait a few moments before following suit, that way it just looks like two students who happen to be late.

As I slip through the door a solid minute after Mattheo, I keep my expression neutral—casual, like I hadn't just been pressed up against a wall with the very boy now seated at the back of the room, lounging like he owns the place.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss Sinclair," Professor Riddle speaks up, his eyes flickering over me.

"Apologies, Professor," I reply quietly.

I take my usual seat next to Theo, feeling eyes all around the classroom burn into my back.

"See me after class," Tom says, his voice low and in control.

My heart drops, looking up to meet his dark eyes.

This can't be happening.

The very moment that had worried me since Professor Riddle started had finally come. I had done my best to avoid him like the plague, knowing what I know about him.

Tom turns his attention back towards the board, continuing on with his lecture. My heart pounds against my ribs, that sick feeling in my stomach returning.

Theo leans in, his voice barely audible.

"What the hell was that?" he whispers.

I shake my head, swallowing the lump in my throat as I keep my attention forward.

"I—I don't know," I mutter.

I keep my attention fixed on my notes, pretending to be more invested in today's lecture on nonverbal spells than my own racing thoughts.

I could feel Mattheo's gaze burning into me from the back of the classroom, but I didn't dare look back.

Tom knows more than he lets on, he's an observant man. Or maybe he doesn't—maybe this is just a scare tactic or one of his sick games. Either way, I wanted no part in any of it.

Class ends before I could process, going by in a blur of scribbles notes, thick tension, and stolen glances. Class is dismissed as students flood towards the door, but I stay put.

"Want me to wait for you?" Theo asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"No," I shake my head, giving him a half-smile. "It's fine. I'll meet you at lunch."

His eyes search mine for a moment, filled with concern, but he nods and leaves with the rest of the class.

Silence looms over the room, heavy and unavoidable as only Tom and I remain. I reluctantly get up from my seat, my legs stiff as I walk over to his desk, stopping just a few feet away.

"You wanted to see me, sir," I speak up, an underlying sense of fear lingering in my voice.

Tom looks up from his parchment, his gaze enough to send a sharp chill down my spine.

"Close the door," he says with a certain tone of demand.

My stomach drops. I turn slowly, pushing the heavy door closed with a click before returning to his desk. When I turn back around, his dark eyes were already on me—sharp, unreadable, and unnerving.

"Take a seat," he gestures to the chair facing his desk.

I comply, lowering myself into the chair as I try to keep my breath steady. The room feels colder now—maybe it's just him, the way his presence devours the air around him.

"What is this about, Professor Riddle?" I ask.

He doesn't reply right away. Instead, he sits there, observing, watching with an unsettling calm. He folds his palms together in front of him.

"You know, I've been trying to get you alone for a while now, Amora," he begins, his voice calm but laced with something far more dangerous. "It's like you've been avoiding me."

My throat grows dry, my mind spinning as I process his words.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Professor," I reply.

"No?" he muses. "That's odd. You're remarkably social with the rest of my students—yet when it comes to me, you keep your distance. Eyes averted. Conversations clipped. Participation minimal. As though you're afraid of what I might see."

He tilts his head slightly at me, as if studying me. My fingers curl around the edges of the chair, knuckles turning white.

"I just prefer to keep to myself during class," I lie through my teeth, my voice steady but thin.

He leans back in his seat, his lips curling up in amusement.

"I find that hard to believe," he says. "Especially considering the company you keep."

He pauses for a moment, the tension in the room growing as the second ticked by.

"I know your relation to my brother, Miss Sinclair," he adds, his voice low. "What I'm trying to figure out is what it is about you that has Mattheo so thoroughly... distracted."

He knows. Merlin, of course he knows.

My heart stutters in my chest, my breath caught somewhere between denial and dread. My eyes stay locked on his, refusing to flinch—even if everything inside me tells me to run out the door.

"I wouldn't know, Professor," I reply quietly. "Whatever you think is going on between Mattheo and me—you're wrong."

Tom smiles, but it's hollow. His expression is void of any warmth as he taps his index finger slowly against the polished wood of his desk.

"Am I?" he questions. "You've underestimated me, Amora. You can't keep denying what is right in front of you. You seem to forget I quite literally found you half naked in my family's manor."

The room feels even smaller now, his words crawling under my skin like ice.

"Mattheo is reckless, yes," he continues, voice smooth as silk but sharp as glass. "But he's never been stupid. Until you."

That one cuts. Deep.

My chest tightens, but I stay silent.

"You've gotten inside his head. I don't know how, or why—but I do intend to find out. And if you're a threat to his purpose... I'll have no choice but to complete his task."

I clench my jaw, my stomach twisting with fear.

"Is that what this is? A threat?" I ask, my voice firm.

Tom lets out a low chuckle, the sound sending a chill down my spine.

"No, Amora," he says smoothly. "This is a warning. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

A beat of silence passes like thunder.

Then, his tone shifts—sudden and controlled.

"I'm giving you detention for your tardiness," he continues flatly. "I will see you Friday night in my classroom."

I frown, my lips parting as the protest rises before I can stop the words from spilling out.

"Sir, I can't, there's—"

"It wasn't a request," he cuts in, his voice stern and his eyes hard. "You may go."

Dismissed. Just like that.

~~~

"So, Amora," Blaise says, serving a piece of ham onto his plate. "What the hell was that about in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

My stomach twists at the mere memory of the interaction as all eyes fall on me. I poke at the mashed potatoes on my plate, trying to keep my expression neutral.

"He just reprimanded me for being late and gave me detention," I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

Pansy scoffs, swirling the contents of her goblet around the glass.

"Thats such bullshit," she adds. "Bet he didn't give his brother detention even though he was also late."

"Guess that's the perks of being related to a psychopath," Theo snickers.

My fingers tighten around my fork as I meet Pansy's gaze from across the table.

"That's not even the worst part," I say, deflecting away from the actual worst parts of that altercation. "The detention is for Friday night."

Pansy lets out a dramatic gasp, slamming her goblet down with a thud, causing a few heads to turn in our direction.

"But that's the night of the Slytherin party!" Pansy exclaims.

I hum, nodding softly as I set my fork down.

"Trust me, he doesn't give a fuck," I frown. "I can still go, I'll just be late."

"Oh it's such a shame Professor Riddle doesn't care about your party schedule," Blaise teases.

I roll my eyes, my lips curling into a playful smile that seems to lighten my mood a bit.

"Shut it, Zabini," I laugh softly.

Theo leans back lazily, a small grin tugging at his lips as he pops a grape into his mouth.

"Did he seem extra weird today? Like intense—or is it just me?" Theo asks.

Draco lets out a quiet laugh, stabbing his fork into a piece of meat without looking up.

"He's always like that," Draco replies. "It's like his entire personality is build around brooding and intimidation."

"Let's just stop talking about the bloke," I say, shaking my head slightly. "I already have to spend more time with him than I'd like."

Blaise narrows his eyes at me in a teasing manner.

"Can't help that you're the interesting gossip of the day, Amora," Blaise shoots back.

Pansy perks up, her eyes lighting up with a familiar sense of mischief as she leans over the table, resting against her elbows.

"To be fair, it was very dramatic. The energy in that room is seriously off," she says.

"I thought he was gonna hex someone," Theo adds. "And by someone, I mean you."

Theo nudges my shoulder as I force out a small laugh.

"Yeah, well," I mutter, picking up my goblet. "If he does, at least I won't have to go to detention."

"Bold plan. Let me know how that works out for you," Draco snorts, sarcasm lingering in his tone.

I shoot him a playful glare from across the table before taking a sip from my glass. The easy banter flows among my friends and throughout the room, the Great Hall alive with chatter and the clatter of cutlery against plates.

But somewhere deep down, beneath the joking and the laughter, an unease still lingers. Though that seemed to be a constant feeling—one I had almost began to get used to. It felt like no matter how normal everything seems to be, it never lasts.

~~~

I laid awake in bed, another restless night settling in. I couldn't find solace in sleep, not with so many things still so fresh in my mind.

When Mattheo had first come to Hogwarts, I knew he was dangerous. I knew he had a darkness that followed him, but no matter what, he couldn't scare me off. Even after he told me about his task, I still came to see him. Just about every night.

But Tom was something else entirely. And it wasn't just the stares, or the way his words always felt like a dare—it was the fact that beneath it all, I couldn't quite tell what game he was playing. Or worse, if I was a piece in it.

I turned over in bed, staring at the ceiling as the moonlight sliced through the curtains in sharp, silver streaks.

The silence in the dorm was heavy, like a weight pressing against my chest. Or maybe it was anxiety. Either way, I had to get out.

I quietly slip out of bed as I had so many times before, sliding on a pair of slippers before wrapping my jacket around me and tiptoeing toward the door.

The halls of the castle were so peaceful at this hour, which I suppose is part of the reason I picked up the habit of late night walks. The other being Mattheo.

I didn't have a particular destination in mind, yet my feet curved the path to the Astronomy Tower. Maybe it was instinct or fate, or the simple habit of repetition I had done so many nights before. But it had always been my refuge.

I climb the familiar spiral staircase, my breath catching slightly with each step. I reach the top, rounding the corner as the cold, bitter January night air stings my skin. I hug my jacket tighter around my body, taking a deep breath as I step onto the platform.

A figure stood at the edge of the tower, hunched slightly against the wind. His hands gripped the railing, broad shoulders, and the dark jacket of a familiar silhouette.

Mattheo.

I step closer, a sense of relief washing over me. I didn't call out at first, I didn't have to with him. I just quietly approached.

Though as I grew closer, something felt... off.

The way he stood—rigid, tense. His hair far too neatly combed. His hands wrapped tightly around the railings, as if bracing himself.

Not Mattheo.

"Draco?" I call out, my voice quiet but steady.

He flinches, his body whipping around to face me. He was startled, I could see it etched onto his tense features. His icy blue eyes met mine, cold and unreadable.

Thats when I saw it.

His sleeve had been tugged upwards slightly, enough for the moonlight to catch the black ink seared onto his pale forearm.

The Dark Mark.

My breath catches in my throat, my chest tightening.

"Oh god," I mutter, my jaw falling open as my hand lifts to cover my mouth.

His eyes quickly follow my gaze, realizing I saw it. He swiftly pulls his sleeve, yanking the fabric down as if to try and erase what had already been done.

"It's nothing," Draco says sharply, his tone rough and dismissive.

I shake my head slowly, swallowing the lump growing in my throat. My eyes glued to his now covered forearm.

"Don't you dare lie to me," I say, barely more than a whisper, but the words cut through the silence like glass.

I look back up at him, not daring to take a step closer. His jaw tightens, his eyes refusing to look back at mine.

This can't be happening.

Draco's shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath, his entire body tense like a wire stretched too thin. The cold air blows between us, causing goosebumps to grow over my skin, though neither of us flinch.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way..." he murmurs, so low I barely catch it.

His voice was frayed, trembling ever so slightly as if he's been carrying this weight alone for far too long.

"Then why?" I ask, my voice breaking. "Why would you—"

"Because I didn't have a choice!" he snaps, louder than he means to. His voice echoes across the open tower, then dies into the night.

I flinch slightly, though not from fear. From the pain I hear in his voice.

He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the neatly combed strands. He turns away from me, pacing slightly.

"You think I wanted this?" he questions, his face twisting with emotion. "You think any of us did?"

Any of us.

The words sting in my chest.

There was a loud silence that fell over the room, the tension rising with every passing second. I stood frozen, the cold biting into my skin, but it was nothing compared to the chill settling in my bones.

"Does Pansy know?" I ask after a long moment.

Draco's shoulders stiffen, his body turning to face me again.

"No," he says, his voice low. "And you can't tell her."

My brows knit together, shaking my head slightly as I look up at him.

"Draco—" I begin.

"You can't tell her, Amora," Draco interrupts, his tone firm yet with a bitter edge. "She can't know. You have to promise me you'll keep this to yourself."

I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. This is why I hate secrets.

"She deserves to know, Draco," I reply, pausing for a brief moment. "She can help you through all of this! You can't be facing this all alone. And you know I can't keep something like this from her..."

Draco's face hardens, but beneath the surface I see it—fear. Raw, consuming, and so deeply rooted it nearly steals the breath from his lungs.

"That's ironic coming from you, you know," he snarls. He hesitates for a moment before continuing. "How do you think Theo would react if he knew you've been screwing around with the Dark Lord's son?"

His words hit me like a slap—sharp, sudden, and far too precise.

I freeze, my heart dropping into my stomach.

"Excuse me?" I manage, my voice low, cold.

Draco doesn't back down. His eyes flash with something unspoken—hurt, maybe, or anger—or both.

"Don't act so surprised. I'm not blind, Amora. You think I haven't seen you sneaking out late at night to see him? I saw you two at the New Years party." he says.

My breath catches, my heart slamming in my chest.

He takes a step closer, tensions radiating off of him in waves.

"So don't act all self-righteous about secrets. We're all hiding something," he adds, pausing for a moment as the words sink in. "So don't tell Pansy. And I'll make sure I don't let slip to Theo about your... activities."

I feel a bitter, cold wave of shock roll over me, my thoughts scattered as I look up at him. His accusation hangs in the air between us, thick and suffocating.

It stung at first. Though that feeling of hurt quickly shifts to fury, feeling a sensation of anger begin to burn in my chest.

"Are you blackmailing me, Malfoy?" I question, my tone sharp as I lower my gaze at him.

Draco's jaw tightens, his eyes darkening with frustration, but he doesn't back away. The tension in the air is palpable, crackling like electricity.

"It's not blackmail," he replies. "You keep my secret, and I'll keep yours. It's as simple as that, Sinclair."

I let out a scoff, narrowing my eyes as a slow, burning fire rises in my chest.

"That's basically the textbook definition of blackmail," I reply. "You think threatening me will make this easier for you? That silencing me somehow gives you control?"

I take a step closer towards him, refusing to let him intimidate me.

"You're not in control, Draco," I continue. "You're scared. And instead of reaching out for help, you're lashing out and self-destructing every good thing in your life. But you're just too proud to admit it."

He flinches, barely, but it's there—a crack in the mask. His silence speaks louder than anything he could say.

"I'll keep you're secret," I add, my voice much softer this time. "But not because you threatened me. Because you're my friend and I care about you. Which is the only reason I'm even still standing here."

Draco's expression falters—just for a second. The cold veneer slips, and beneath it, I see something hollow, something aching. Vulnerability.

He looks away, jaw clenched, lips pressed into a tight line.

"Thank you, Amora," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, we just stand there—two people tangled in secrets, pride, and pain. The kind of silence that feels like it could shatter at any second.

"Don't make me regret it," I say, turning away.

I walk off without another word, my heart pounding, my hands shaking. I don't know if I did the right thing. I don't even know if I trust him.

But I meant what I said.

Maybe that's all that matters right now.

———

Chapter 26

"You're searching for comfort in a place it doesn't exist."

~~~

January 23, 1997

Friday morning crept in under a grey, heavy sky—one of those days where the sun didn't bother trying. The air was thick with winter stillness, the kind of cold that clung to your skin and sank into your bones, no matter how many layers you wore.

I hadn't spoken to Draco since that night.

Not a word. Not a glance. We passed each other in the hallways like strangers, avoided each other in group settings as the memory of our previous conversation echoed louder than any greeting could have. But I kept my word. I always keep my promises, no matter what.

I sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall with Theo beside me, Blaise sitting across from us. I stared out one of the frost-laced windows, the faint murmurs of conversation floating around me. My fingers curled around a mug of coffee I had yet to drink, seeking warmth I couldn't seem to hold onto.

Theo and Blaise kept going on and on about their latest Quidditch match—how they couldn't believe that Adrian Pucey had missed the quaffle Blaise passed to him, how Madam Hooch always seems to favor Gryffindor, and so on.

But the conversations blurred into one, my head off somewhere else. Somewhere far from the half-eaten lunch in front of me.

Then I felt it—the subtle, familiar tension that gets under my skin.

Mattheo.

He sat farther down the Slytherin table, his long fingers toying with the silver rings on his hand. His dark eyes were on me, steady, unreadable. He hadn't looked away since I walked in.

I didn't look back. Not really, anyways.

Just enough to feel the burn of his gaze like a bruise I couldn't touch.

"Earth to Amora," Theo interjects, nudging me with his elbow, his voice breaking through the fog. "You're zoning again."

I blink, dragging my gaze towards him as I paint a small smile on my lips.

"Sorry," I shake my head slightly. "Was just dying of boredom at all the Quidditch talk."

Theo scoffs, feigning offense at my half-hearted joke.

"Rude. You used to care about Quidditch," he replies.

I shrug, taking a sip of coffee that has gone lukewarm.

"Well that was before one of the players cheated on me," I shoot back, setting the mug back down on the table.

Blaise snorts out a laugh from across the table.

"She's got a fair point, mate," he chimes in.

Theo rolls his eyes, though there's a flicker of guilt—or maybe regret—that passes through them too quickly to name.

"Guess I can't argue with that," Theo says, popping a grape into his mouth.

I felt it again—Mattheo's stare. Burning a hole through me.

I hated that I could feel it before I even looked. Like his gaze had its own gravity. I hated even more that I couldn't bring myself to meet it.

I stood up, adjusting my skirt before slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"I've got to get to the library before Charms," I said quickly, not even sure if it was true.

Theo tilts his head, eyebrows knitting together.

"Since when do you care to study for Charms?" he questions.

"Since today," I mutter, already turning away.

I didn't wait for a response. I didn't really want one.

I could feel Theo watch as I walked off. Theo cares about me more than just about anyone—that I know. But thats what makes both of our situations so difficult.

I move fast through the Great Hall, keeping my head down. It felt as if Mattheo's presence had rooted itself under my skin, like smoke invading my lungs.

The corridors were quiet as I walked through them, my footsteps echoing against the stone floors. I didn't know where I was going—maybe the library, maybe not. I just needed to move, to get a breath of air.

I find myself at the entrance of the abandoned prefect bathroom on the fifth floor, one that students rarely come across. It's one of those overlooked parts of the castle, making it the perfect place when you just want to get away from people.

The door swings shut behind me, my bag slipping off my shoulder and onto the floor with a soft thud. My fingers find the edge of my sleeves, tugging them upwards as I grasp the edge of the sink, leaning against it.

I stare at my reflection in the old, dust-speckled mirror. The glass is cracked slightly in the corner, like it's seen too much.

My eyes look tired, partially masked by my makeup, but you can still see through. Maybe it was a lack of sleep, maybe it was the stress, or the piled up secrets.

The door creaks, my eyes snapping to look back in the mirror.

"You're going the wrong way if you're actually headed towards the library," Mattheo's voice cuts through the silence, his voice low and unreadable.

The door closes softly behind him, his steps echoing off the tile floor. I turn around to face him, my back pressed against the porcelain sink.

"You stalking me now?" I question, tilting my head slightly. "Listening to my conversations?"

Mattheo's expression shifts—just barely—but enough. A flicker of something sharp passes through his eyes, though I couldn't tell if he was amused or if I had struck a nerve.

"No," he says, voice still low, still calm in that way that feels anything but.

Mattheo takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

"But you make it hard not to notice," he continues. "when you storm out like that. Like you're seconds away from falling apart."

My fingers curl tighter around the sink's edge, Mattheo now standing mere inches apart.

"Maybe I am," I reply, refusing to break his gaze. "Either way you shouldn't have followed me. You're making it too obvious."

His jaw clenches, just for a moment.

"Too obvious for who?" he questions.

I blink, slightly taken off guard. We've had this talk too many times.

"Does it matter?" I shoot back.

"It does," he says, his voice quieter now, almost rough. "If you're worried about him seeing. About Theo seeing."

Something sharp twists in my chest as I let out a scoff, crossing my arms over my chest.

"It's not just about Theo," I say in a defensive manner. "It's about everyone, Mattheo. People can't know about us, you know that."

Mattheo doesn't flinch—doesn't look away. But something shifts in his expression again. Like the weight of my words sinks deeper this time, digging beneath skin and bone.

"Right," he mutters, his voice strained. "Because if they knew—what? That I'm not as much of a heartless monster they all thought I was?"

His tone was sarcastic, almost as if he was mocking. Acting as if this was my choice.

"I'm not saying that," I sigh. "I'm saying it's complicated."

"Everything's complicated with you," he snaps, then exhales through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair as if trying to steady himself. "And I still show up."

I look away, clenching my jaw slightly.

"I didn't ask you to."

He steps closer—I could practically feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand grasps my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"You didn't have to."

I stay silent for a moment, my eyes searching his.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I question, frustration growing in my chest. "One moment you push me away saying that we need our distance, then you pull me closer and act like everything is okay, and now you're angry with me? For what?"

Mattheo's jaw tenses under the weight of my words. His fingers twitch against my skin, but he doesn't let go. He just stares, the storm behind his eyes intensifying.

"I'm angry," he says slowly, his voice with that low rasp that drives me insane. "because I don't know how to want you quietly. I don't know how to pretend that I don't notice you."

I swallow hard, my throat tightening as his words settle between us like smoke. The vulnerability in his voice, so raw and unguarded, catches me off guard in a way nothing else ever has.

"Merlin, just kiss me already," I mutter.

His lips twitch into a half-smile—dark and dangerous—and then he closes the distance without another word.

He smashes his lips against mine—urgent, fierce, consuming. His hand slips down, wrapping around my neck loosely as if it's the only thing grounding him to reality.

Every nerve in my body sparks with the sudden heat of his touch. His kiss is demanding, yet desperate, pouring every pent up emotion into that fierce press of lips. My hand clutch at his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer, as if I could make him stay like this forever.

He pulls back for a brief moment, just enough to catch a breath of air.

"I'm starting to think you like fighting with me so we can do this," I murmur half-heartedly between pants.

Mattheo's dark eyes flash with something fierce—amusement, challenge, and something softer buried underneath.

"Oh shut it, angel," he shoots back, his voice low and teasing.

His lips meet mine once again, one hand trailing down to my waist as the other drops to my thigh, hoisting me up so I'm almost sitting on the sink behind me. The cold edge of the porcelain sends a shiver down my spine, contrasting against my hot skin.

My breath catches in my throat as he presses his body against mine, his teeth nipping softly at my bottom lip.

Suddenly, the door bursts open with a loud bang, shattering the charged silence.

Mattheo freezes, his grip on me tightening before reluctantly pulling away. I scramble down from the sink, trying to smooth my hair and pretend I wasn't just moments away from losing myself in his touch.

Fred Weasley's familiar voice rings out from the doorway, cheeky and loud as ever.

"Oi! Didn't know this was the place for a private lesson."

Mattheo shoots me a sharp glance, a mixture of annoyance and amusement flashing in his eyes. I can't help but smirk, feeling the awkward tension crack just a little.

Mattheo turns away, grabbing his bag as he walks out the door, making sure to bump shoulders with Fred as he exits.

Fred crosses his arms over his chest, a smirk plastered on his lips as he leans against the door frame.

"Well, if it isn't Amora Sinclair," he says.

"Merlin, Fred, what the hell are you doing here?" I ask, adjusting my skirt.

He chuckles before shrugging his shoulders.

"This is one of the only bathrooms in Hogwarts that doesn't have a line between classes," he replies.

I sigh, grabbing my bag off the floor and throwing it over my shoulder.

"Oh great," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "How convenient."

A moment of silence falls between us, a slightly awkward tension rising in the air.

"So," Fred breaks the silence. "Are you going to explain what that just was? Or..."

I let out a huff, running a hand through my already-messy hair.

"What that was," I begin. "Is none of your business."

I like Fred. We are somewhat of friends. But this is a hell of a long story to tell. And how could I tell him when Pansy doesn't even know?

"Ouch," he presses a hand against his chest in a mocking way.

"Listen it's a long story," I sigh, taking a few steps closer. "But I swear to Merlin, if you tell anyone, I'll hex you so hard you'll be seeing stars for a week."

His grin widens, clearly further amused by my threat. I suppose it was a Weasley twin trait to not take anything too seriously.

"Oh Amora, you wound me," he says. "But don't worry, my lips are sealed."

Fred shoots me a wink, that familiar mischievous sparkle lingering in his eyes. He pushes off the doorframe with an easy confidence, tilting his head as he eyes me curiously.

"For whatever its worth," he continues, his tone losing some of its usual teasing edge, "he didn't look at you like it was nothing."

I blink, caught off guard by the shift in his voice. It's softer—genuine in a way I hadn't expected.

"I mean, I've seen Malfoy and Zabini flirt their way through half the castle, but that..." he gestures vaguely to the room around us. "That wasn't just snogging in a bathroom, was it?"

My mouth opens, but no words come out. Because I don't even know what that was. Fred nods softly, like he understands my silence.

"You don't have to say anything, just remember to lock the door next time," he pauses for a moment. "And be careful with that one, yeah?"

A small laugh escapes my lips, shaking my head slightly.

"Thanks, Weasley," I reply quietly.

With a mock bow, Fred backs away into the corridor.

"Anytime, Sinclair," he calls out.

I step out into the corridor behind him, the bathroom door slamming shut. He turns on his heel with that signature swagger, throwing one last glance over his shoulder—grin intact.

"For the record," he adds slyly. "if you ever need a distraction or someone to steal you away from bad boys with commitment issues—"

I raise a brow, clearly amused.

"—my schedule is very flexible," he finishes with a smirk before finally disappearing around the corner.

I stand there for a moment, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the swirl of emotions pressing against my chest.

Merlin help me.

~~~

"Does this skirt match this top?" Pansy asks, turning from side to side as she studies her reflection in the mirror, lips pursed in concentration.

I step up behind her, my lips curling into a smile.

"Perfectly," I say, my eyes trailing down her figure. "You look hot."

Pansy grins, adjusting her hair as she perfects her look.

"Good," she replies, turning back towards me. "I just like hearing it out loud."

I let out a small laugh, but it doesn't quite reach my eyes. My stomach twisted with nerves, my brain racing with different scenarios about how detention might go.

Pansy grabs my hands, her eyes searching mine.

"You sure you're okay?" she questions.

"I'm fine," I lie, giving her hands a small squeeze. "Just not exactly thrilled about Friday night detention is all."

Pansy sighs, stepping away as she goes back to her makeup vanity. She picks up her eyeliner pencil, making any last minute adjustments.

"Honestly," she says, smudging the corner of her eye. "I don't know what I should be more worried about—you getting hexed or seduced."

I shoot her a look, my face twisting in disgust.

"That's not funny," I reply.

Pansy smirks in the mirror, unfazed.

"I wasn't really joking," she shoots back, setting the pencil back down. "He just gives me that vibe, you know?"

I roll my eyes, sliding on my robes and grabbing my book bag.

"Sometimes you need to keep your thoughts to yourself," I say half-jokingly. I sling my bag over my shoulder, headed towards the door. "But on that note, I have to go. Love you."

"Love you too!" she replies from over her shoulder. "See you later tonight!"

The common room was mid-setup as I passed through, excited chatter flying around the room as they got everything ready. My nerves coil tighter with every step.

I couldn't even remember the last time I had been this nervous. I don't know how Tom Riddle has this much of an effect on me, but I hate it.

By the time I reach the classroom door, my heart feels as if it could burst through my chest at any moment. The corridor was eerily silent at this time, as if the castle itself was holding its breath.

The light was on, the door cast slightly ajar. For a second, I hesitate.

Maybe it's not too late to ditch.

No. I can't.

My fingers brush against the wood before deciding to knock, waiting for a response.

"Come in," a voice sounds from behind the door—low, calm, and unmistakably his.

I push the door open.

The classroom was dimmer than usual. Only a few lamps were lit along the walls, the flames dancing across the stone.

Tom Riddle sits behind his desk, quill in hand, eyes lifted and already fixed on me.

"Miss Sinclair," he says, setting the quill down with deliberate care. "Right on time."

I step inside carefully, the door creaking slightly as it closes behind me.

"Professor," I greet, my voice stiff.

He gestures towards the desk that sat facing his own. Of course.

"Sit."

I oblige, lowering myself into the chair without meeting his eyes. I set my bag down beside me, letting my fingers rest tensely in my lap. The silence that follows is deafening.

"You will be assisting me with sorting and cataloguing a few texts from the restricted section," he gestures towards a stack of papers on his desk. Some are thick and heavy, bound in fraying leather, while others are loose sheets, yellowed with age and curling at the edges. "I trust you are competent enough to do so, yes?"

"Yes, professor," I reply, fighting off an eye roll as I still avoid meeting his gaze.

Tom hums—a low, almost thoughtful sound—as he stands from his desk and strides toward the stack. He picks up a small bundle of parchment and places it carefully in front of me. His movements are precise, every gesture deliberate.

"These," he says, tapping the top of the stack of papers. "are ritual fragments—many incomplete, some believed to be lost entirely. Be mindful of the margins. Ink that ancient tends to bleed if disturbed."

I nod stiffly, grabbing a handful of pages and setting them in front of me. My eyes scan over the parchment, some pages littered with old, dark magic. The type of magic most wizards are afraid to speak of.

I can feel his gaze on me—intense, as if it was burning a hole right through me. As he approaches, I pretend to study the scrolls, but my pulse betrays me—loud, fast, and traitorous.

"You seem tense," he observes, voice low. Closer now.

"I'm fine," I reply quickly.

He stops beside me, reaching past my shoulder to grab one of the scrolls. His hand brushes against the side of my neck, sending a sharp chill down my spine.

"You're a terrible liar, Amora."

I swallow hard, trying not to react. My body betrays me anyway, going rigid at the contact, every nerve alive.

He steps closer. I can feel the heat of his body behind me now, too close for anything appropriate. He reaches up, fingers brushing my hair back from my shoulder—an intimate gesture wrapped in threat. His breath ghosts along the shell of my ear.

"I wonder," he murmurs, his voice dark velvet. "Is it fear that makes you flinch... or something else?"

My lips part, but no sound comes out.

My mind races to find some sort of footing—rage, shame, attraction, disgust—all colliding in a storm I can't decipher quick enough.

Tom doesn't move—he lingers behind me like a shadow. Silence coils in the air around us, thick with an uneasy tension.

"Perhaps its both," he muses. "Fear and something else... entangled so tightly, you can't tell which is which."

My breath hitches, my fingers tightening around the scroll in my hands.

"You're crossing a line, Professor," I say, my voice tight, but steady enough to be a warning.

A flicker of something dances across his face. Not regret. Amusement. Satisfaction, maybe.

He looks down, his eyes examining the parchment that began crumbling in my fist. He takes a step back, clearing his throat.

"Careful," he says, voice a murmur laced with condescension. "That one's older than both of us combined. Would be a shame if you tore it in a moment of... conflict."

I release the scroll with a shaky breath, setting it gently on the table. My hand lingers above it, suspended in the air for a beat too long, as if I'm not entirely sure what's mine anymore—my fear, my anger, my restraint.

"I don't flinch from fear," I say, finally looking up to meet his stormy eyes. "I flinch when I'm being toyed with."

He chuckles lowly, retreating back to his desk.

"How charmingly defiant," he replies. "But don't mistake curiosity for cruelty, Amora. I only ever prod at things that hide something worth revealing."

My jaw tightens, but I don't respond. I won't give him the satisfaction—not when he's watching so closely for a crack. A weakness. A confession I don't owe him.

Silence falls over the room again, the only sound being the faint scratching of his quill against parchment. I return to the papers in front of me, doing my best to categorize the ancient text that I only half-understand.

But my focus is fractured.

His presence is suffocating, the imprint of him pressed into the air like a brand.

I need to get out of here.

But I can't—yet. And worse, part of me doesn't want to. Not because I trust him. Not because I enjoy this sick game.

Because I want to understand him.

I know it sounds absolutely insane. Maybe its because he reminds me of Mattheo so much. They're so similar, yet so different. It's hard to explain.

"Ten more minutes," he says, not looking up. "Then you're dismissed."

I nod once, but I don't speak.

I glance at the parchment again, pretending I'm reading it. But the text might as well be runes carved into stone for all the sense it makes now. All I can see is him—his words, his touch, his proximity—haunting every syllable.

I shift in my seat, the wooden chair creaking under me. I feel his eyes lift from his desk.

I didn't dare meet his gaze, my eyes instead fixating on the frayed edge of the parchment—so worn, so delicate from centuries of being passed around.

The minutes crawl by like slow poison. I write down a translation that is probably wrong, but I need to do something. Anything. I run a hand through my hair, turning to the next page of parchment.

After what felt like an eternity, the clock finally signals the end of the hour. I let out a breath of relief. I set my quill down, organizing a few last pieces of parchment before Tom finally speaks up again.

"You should learn to shield your mind more carefully, Amora," his voice is deceptively casual, but it strikes like lightning.

My head snaps up.

His eyes meet mine, sharp, assessing.

"Your thoughts are very loud."

Panic quickly settles in my veins before I can stop it. I try to gather myself, to pull my shields up—but it's already too late. He's seen something. Felt something.

How could I be so stupid?

I didn't even think about the fact that Tom could be a Legilimens. Whenever Mattheo entered my thoughts, he made himself known. But Tom was careful, precise—waiting for the perfect moment to slither in unknowingly.

"Stay out of my head," I say, my voice firm, yet barely above a whisper.

Tom tilts his head slightly, his eyes searching mine.

"But your mind is so unguarded," he murmurs. "You walk through fire, Amora, thinking you'll remain untouched. I would have thought Mattheo taught you better than that, but I suppose I was wrong."

He stands then, slow and deliberate. Every movement calculated. My muscles go rigid as he approaches, though he keeps a respectful distance. Barely.

"You think you're hard to read," he continues, leaning back against the desk. "But your silence screams. Your guilt. Your curisoity. It bleeds through the cracks of your mind."

My hands curl into fists in my lap, swallowing the lump growing in my throat as I attempt to stop myself from doing something stupid.

"You don't know anything," I manage through gritted teeth.

"Don't I?" he says softly. "You think of Mattheo as a broken puzzle you need to solve. Like he's a wound that won't close. You're searching for comfort in a place it doesn't exist."

His words cut deeper than I expected. I flinch, barely. But he sees it.

I stand up as well, glaring at him as if my eyes could throw daggers. His lips curl into a satisfied smirk, getting the exact reaction he wanted.

"You have no fucking idea about Mattheo and I," I reply angrily, stepping towards him. "If you're trying to scare me, it's not going to work."

He laughs softly, quiet and dark.

"Scare you? No," he takes a step forward, his voice dropping. "I'm trying to understand you."

I shake my head slightly, my expression shifting in confusion.

"Why?" I question.

He pauses for a moment, taking a breath as his eyes scan over my features.

"Because you fascinate me," he simply states.

A scoff escapes my lips, feeling the anger in my chest bubbling over.

"Oh fuck you," I spit. "You're sick."

I go to turn away, to grab my things and run the hell away.

He stands up straight, grasping my arm roughly before I could react, forcing me to turn back in his direction.

"Well I happen to know that you're quite drawn to sick, broken things, isn't that right, Amora?" his eyes bore into mine. "Thinking that if you fix them, you fix yourself. Isn't that what you're doing with my brother?"

His words crash into me like cold water, stealing the air from my lungs. I stare at him, stunned.

For a moment, I don't recognize myself. I had now become the girl who let Tom Riddle get under her skin. Who lets his voice curl around her like smoke, intoxicating and suffocating all at once.

"Let go of me," I grit out.

I rip my arm away—already bruising.

"Stay the fuck away from me." I raise my voice.

I snatch my bag and storm out of the classroom. I feel his eyes burning into my back, but I don't care.

My feet move quickly through the corridors, breath catching in my throat, my heart hammering against my ribcage.

Merlin, that went worse than I thought it would.

I quickly reach the Slytherin common room, the blaring music being heard from all the way down the hall. The bass thudding so loudly I could feel it in my bones.

I push open the common room door as the laughter, shouting, and clinking of bottles takes over my senses. The moment I step through the door, someone spins past me, a drink sloshing dangerously close to my shoes.

I move through the crowd like a ghost, not really in the mood to party anymore. Everyone's drunk, dancing, shouting over one another. It's really no fun when you're sober.

I bump into someone's shoulder, turning around as I face the familiar redhead from before.

"Amora Sinclair!" Fred greets, clearly intoxicated. "Where's your scary boyfriend?"

I roll my eyes, quickly scanning the room to make sure no one could hear. Though even if anyone could, they were probably too drunk to remember anyways.

"Very funny, Weasley," I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Got any Muggle weed left?"

Fred smirks, his eyes lighting up mischievously.

"Do I ever not?" he muses, rummaging through the pocket of his jacket. "You know I always save a joint for my favorite Slytherin."

He hands me a small plastic bag with a tightly rolled joint inside.

"I'll take this as an apology gift from you being an ass," I say half-heartedly as I pull the joint out from its confines.

I reach in my bag for a lighter, bringing the blunt to my lips as I light the end, inhaling deeply.

Fred chuckles, taking a step back as I exhale a cloud of smoke that curls in the dim light like fog.

"Merlin, someone had a night," he says, his voice having a light teasing tone.

I want to laugh, but I don't. I shrug, raising my brows at him.

"I'm fine," I lie, bringing the joint back up to my lips. I inhale, letting the smoke fill my lungs, holding it for a moment as I relish in the burning sensation before letting it out.

Fred doesn't buy it, not for a second—but he lets it go.

"Want me to hex whoever it was?" he questions, his words slightly slurring together.

A smile tugs at my lips as I shake my head, not quite meeting his eyes.

"I wish it was that simple," I reply jokingly. "I'd have too long of a list."

Fred laughs softly as he rubs the back of his neck, his drunken swagger faltering just a bit as he looks at me.

"Well, I got a few nasty jinxes up my sleeve if you ever change your mind," he smirks.

I give him a small smile, one that's more gratitude than amusement.

"Get home safe, Weasley," I say, my voice softer than before, the edge dulled by the smoke and exhaustion.

I take a step back as he does the same, shooting me with a mock salute as he disappears back into the haze of the party.

I take another hit, slowly feeling the effects of the weed start to kick in as I push my way towards the girl's dormitories.

The music fades behind me with every step, the distant chaos being swallowed by the thick stone walls of the castle. I exhale slowly, watching as the smoke dissipates into nothing as I climb the stairs to my dorm.

The dorm is quiet, bathed in moonlight spilling through the tall windows. I can still hear the faint hum of music and laughter, as well as the footsteps of people bouncing from room to room.

I sit on the edge of my bed, the familiar scent of home clinging to my sheets. I lean back, letting myself fall against the mattress with a quiet thud. I take another hit, letting the smoke envelop my lungs before exhaling it out.

The high made my mind feel lighter, my emotions numbed, even for a short period of time. It began to settle in like a warm, heavy blanket.

Suddenly, a soft knock at the door breaks the silence.

I sit up slowly, the haze clouding my mind as a knot tightens in my stomach.

"Who is it?" I ask aloud.

A low voice answers, barely above a whisper.

"Mattheo."

I hesitate for a moment, having not expected that answer.

"Come in," I reply quietly.

The door creaks open slowly, and Mattheo steps inside, his silhouette outlined by the dim moonlight spilling through the window. His eyes scan the room before settling on me.

He steps closer as I bring the blunt back up to my lips. I take one last hit, exhaling the smoke in his direction, watching as he approaches.

He plucks the joint from my fingers, bringing it up to his own lips as he takes a hit before stubbing it out.

"Hey," I say softly, still sitting on the edge of my bed.

Mattheo exhales slowly, the smoke mingling with the dim light in the room as his eyes never leave mine.

"Hey," he echoes, voice low and steady.

For a moment, the silence stretched between us, but it wasn't awkward. It was peaceful. Or maybe that was the weed talking.

"You okay?" he asks, the usual edge in his tone softened.

"Mhm," I hum, nodding softly as I look up at him.

Mattheo hesitates, then offers a small, understanding smile.

"You don't want to talk?"

I shake my head, exhaustion taking over my body. Instead, I move over, patting the bed beside me.

"Just... stay, please?" I say.

Without a word, he settles down next to me, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

His arms wrap around me gently, pulling me close until I'm resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing the quiet in the room.

I cling onto him, closing my eyes as I breathe in the warmth of him. His hand moves slowly, tracing light circles along my back, steady and reassuring.

I feel my mind begin to drift off as I try and savor these peaceful moments with Mattheo, knowing that in the morning he probably wouldn't be here.

That's just how we were right now—uncertain, complicated. But in this moment, wrapped in his arms, I let it all go. Sleep found me before the doubt could, and for now, that was enough.

———

Chapter 27

"Took you long enough."

~~~

*smut warning*

February 14, 1997

I've always hated Valentine's Day.

It was just another one of those fake Muggle holidays—oversaturated with roses and riddled with expectations. Nothing but an excuse for people to pretend love was easy. Clean. Simple. Beautiful.

It never was.

Love is messy. Love is loud and complicated and shows up in ways you'd never expect. It was slamming doors and lingering glances and words you never meant to say but said anyway. It was knowing someone could destroy you, and letting them anyway.

So, no, I never cared for the flowers, the cards, or the corny sentiments. Call me bitter, I don't care.

The Great Hall had practically been bleeding pink and red since sunrise. Floating hearts, charm-glittered rose petals, and charmed harpsichords playing romantic ballads at every turn. It made me want to crawl out of my skin.

Couples had paraded around the corridors like they were starring in some sappy romance novel. Every corner I looked, people were pulling each other into over-the-top displays of affection.

Even Blaise had joined in on the madness, having gifting Luna Lovegood a bouquet of enchanted orchids that changed colors based on her mood. She twirled under the archway of the dungeons like she was floating, completely unbothered by the whispers they left in their wake.

Then again, that was typical Luna behavior. At least they're happy.

And Draco had gifted Pansy a gorgeous emerald-encrusted necklace, something straight out of a vault in Gringotts. She'd spent the entire morning flaunting it to anyone who would look.

It was all so performative. So nauseatingly perfect.

I slipped away from the Great Hall, not really caring to suffer through the fake smiles and floating rose petals.

"Not feeling it either?" a voice speaks up from behind me.

I turned to see Theo falling into step beside me, his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking just as unimpressed with the whole ordeal.

"Nope," I reply, peering over at him with a small smirk etched on my lips. "No Valentine for you this year?"

He lets out a small laugh, giving my shoulder a gentle shove.

"Hey, you can't talk shit," he shoots back. "You don't have one either."

"Well I know why I'm still single," I say, raising a brow at him. "But what about you, Theodore? You're a catch, how do you not have girls lining up in your direction?"

Theo hums, tilting his head thoughtfully as if he was actually considering the question.

"Maybe I'm just too complicated for the average Hogwarts girl," he replies with a grin. "Or maybe they just can't handle all of this," he gestures towards himself.

I snort out a laugh, shaking my head slightly.

"Right, because you're just so broody and mysterious," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Theo's lips curl into a smirk as he looks over at me.

"Exactly, I'm a tortured soul," he adds, matching my tone.

I roll my eyes in a playful manner, giving him a nudge with my elbow.

"More like a sarcastic asshole with commitment issues," I remark.

He places a dramatic hand against his chest, gasping mockingly.

"Oh, Amora, you wound me," he says.

"Please. You love it," I shoot back.

We kept walking, the castle much quieter than it was in the Great Hall. The cold draft that always lingered near the dungeon stairwell brushed against my skin, but next to Theo, the chill didn't bite as hard.

"Guess we're just two lost causes then, huh?" Theo says, his voice having a slight teasing tone.

I look over at him, a smile tugging at my lips.

"Yeah," I mutter. "Something like that."

We stop in front of a narrow alcove with an arched window, the sun shining over the frozen lake, newly dusted with snow. I lean against the stone wall, my eyes scanning over the winter scene before meeting his eyes.

"Why don't we make a pact, yeah?" I speak up after a small moment of silence. "If we're both not married by the age of 30, then we marry each other."

Theo blinks, taken aback for only a second before a lopsided grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"A marriage pact?" he repeats, raising a brow. "How terribly romantic of you, Sinclair."

I shrug, feigning indifference even though there's a flicker of something more underneath it all.

"Don't let it get to your head now, Nott," I tease. "But if we're going to settle for a lifetime of misery, we might as well do it together, right?"

Theo lets out a low laugh, leaning beside me against the cold stone.

"Alright," he muses. "If by 30 we're both still single—"

"Hopelessly," I add.

"—hopelessly single," he corrects with a smirk. "we'll get married."

I nod, extending my pinky toward him with a grin.

"Deal?"

Theo eyes my hand for a moment, then loops his pinky with mine. His touch is warm besides the cold chill in the air.

"Deal."

It was stupid. A joke. Something people say when they're sixteen and terrified of ending up alone. But with Theo, it didn't seem so stupid.

Truth be told, I think our mothers had always rooted for us to end up together. Honestly, I think my mother is still silently hoping it would happen, and if Theo's mum was still here, I'm sure she'd say the same. As kids, we used to react in disgust at the idea, but somewhere along the way, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.

A comfortable silence settled between us, one of those rare moments where words felt unnecessary. Theo's shoulder brushed mine as he shifted slightly, his gaze fixed on the lake. I wonder if he was remembering the same things I was—summer days in the Nott gardens, muddy knees, the way we'd race each other barefoot across the grass until we collapsed, breathless and laughing under the sky.

It was innocent memories like those that I cherished most. Back when the world still felt simple. Before war and grief and heartbreak carved lines into our lives we didn't know how to erase.

"So come on," I glance towards Theo. "Who can I hook you up with in the mean time? And don't give me that 'I'm a tortured soul' shit."

Theo smirks, that familiar mischievous spark lighting up his eyes.

"I appreciate the offer, but I think I've got enough on my plate without worrying about a girl," he replies.

"Hmm," I hum in return. "What about Daphne Greengrass? She's had a crush on you for ages now."

He chuckles, raising a brow at me as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Daphne, huh?" he muses. "Didn't think you were much of a fan of either Greengrass sister."

I shrug, leaning my head against the wall.

"Well, it turns out Daphne is the better one," I say, an underlying tone of sass in my voice. "She's been waiting for you to notice her since second year. Maybe it's time you stop being a heartbreaker."

"Better to be the one breaking hearts rather than getting your heart broken," he shoots back.

I roll my eyes in a playful manner, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

"How poetic of you," I tease. "Fine then, I guess you really are a lost cause."

Theo lets out a scoff, narrowing his eyes at me.

"You're one to talk," he says. "From my point of view, you're not doing much better."

"Touché, Theodore," I snicker as I push off the wall.

He follows suit, his footsteps syncing with mine as we start a slow stroll back toward the Slytherin common room.

Maybe today won't be so unbearable after all.

~~~

Alright, perhaps I was wrong. It was insufferable.

The moment we had stepped through the common room, I was hit with overwhelming scent of cheap cologne and burning parchment. Millicent Bulstrode was screeching with laughter from the far corner, her arm slung over Goyle's shoulder like they'd just shared the world's funniest joke. I also unfortunately had to bear witness to a third year boy attempting to give a girl a love potion. Let's just say it didn't end well.

Oh, but that isn't the worst of it.

The worst of it came later, when the noise finally faded and silence wrapped around me like a shroud.

Lying in bed, the echoes of the day twisted in my mind, stubborn and sharp. Faces blurred, conversations replayed with a cruel clarity, and the weight of everything I was trying to ignore settled deep in my chest.

Sleep had become a stranger. I stare at the ceiling, tracing the carven wooden frame of my bed in an attempt to settle with my thoughts.

A thin beam of moonlight slipped through the curtains, casting faint shadows that danced along the walls. The dorm was uncomfortably quiet, as Pansy is most likely spending the night at Draco's.

Something gnawed at me, persistent and hollow. The kind of feeling you couldn't shake, that couldn't be settled with tea or deep breaths. I toss the blankets aside, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, the cold stone floor biting at my skin.

I move quietly, careful not to disturb the quiet, even though there was no one to disturb. Grabbing my wand and pulling on the first jumper I could find, I crept from the dorm, the door clicking softly shut behind me. The dungeons are dark and still, the torches reduced to dim flickers.

And without even meaning to, I know exactly where I'm headed.

The Astronomy Tower is the one place in this castle I could find solace. And let's just say that comfort didn't always come from what you can see in the telescopes.

He was already there.

Mattheo stood near the edge, his silhouette outlined by the stars, leaning over the stone railing with a cigarette between his fingers. I stopped just before stepping into view, watching him for a moment. Watching the way the wind tousled his curls, the bright silver rings that decorated his fingers, the way his shoulders rose and fell with each quiet breath.

The ember of his cigarette flared briefly as he took a drag, the smoke coiling around the bitter cold of the night air. I stepped forward, my footsteps soft against the stone, but he didn't turn.

"I was wondering how long you were gonna linger in the shadows," he said, voice low and rough.

A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips despite myself.

"Didn't want to ruin the mood," I murmur.

He finally glances over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting mine.

"You couldn't if you tried," he replies.

The quiet that followed wasn't awkward, it was full. Brimming with everything we didn't know how to say. Above us, the stars glimmered, stretching across the sky endlessly.

"I couldn't sleep," I say quietly, stepping beside him.

Mattheo hums in response, flicking the ash from his cigarette over the railing.

"Neither could I," he mutters.

The breeze cuts between us, but it's not what makes me shiver. There's a tension in the air—one that's too familiar. One we never quite resolve. The one that is constantly brought up, yet neither of us ever have a straight answer.

"I thought maybe some air would help," I continue, hugging my jumper closer against my body.

"You always come here when you need clarity," he says, not looking at me. "Except tonight... I don't think you want clarity. I think you want me."

His words hit me like a slap. Not cruel, just startling in how close to the truth they are. But there was something dark in his voice. Something angry and cold.

It sparked something in me. I've had too long of a day to deal with him being a dick. I glance at him, his sharp features contrasting against the moonlight.

"And you don't?" I question.

He doesn't answer right away, which says more than silence should. My jaw tightens.

"Right," I mutter. "Of course. Because that's what you do, isn't it? You show up in my life, fuck with my head, come and go as you please, make me feel everything. Then you push me away again."

He puts out his cigarette, letting the scraps fall to the ground. He finally turns towards me, eyes dark.

"That's not fair," he says.

"Isn't it?" I laugh, but it's brittle. "Tell me, Mattheo—what the hell are we doing? Because it feels like I'm losing my mind trying to figure out where I stand with you."

He moves closer, slowly, his expression unreadable.

"You want to talk about where we stand?" he asks. "Fine. Then let's talk about Theo."

I blink. "What?"

"I see the way he looks at you," Mattheo says, voice low. "Like he'd burn the world just to keep you warm. And you let him. You let him."

I take a step back, heat rising in my chest.

"So now this is about Theo?" I ask. "I already told you to leave him out of this. He has nothing to do with this." I gesture between us.

"It's about you pretending like I'm the only one playing games."

"I'm not playing anything," I snap. "You think I want this? That I want to have this constant feeling? That I want to be yanked around by someone who can't decide if I'm the best thing that ever happened to him or his biggest fucking mistake?"

Mattheo's jaw flexes. He looks away again, running a hand through his curls, silent for so long I start to think he wasn't going to answer.

"You think this is easy for me?" he says softly, almost too softly for someone like him.

My heart pounds in my chest as I swallow hard.

"I think you make it a hell of a lot harder than it has to be."

He let out a bitter, breathless laugh. "Maybe I do. Maybe that's the only way I know how to keep you safe."

"Safe?" I scoff. "From what? From you?"

He looks at me—I mean really looks at me—and something in his expression cracked.

"Yes."

The word dropped between us like a curse.

I open my mouth, but no words came out. Deep down, I knew exactly what he meant. The reality neither of us wanted to face. And it terrified me.

"I'm not good for you, Amora," he murmurs, his voice rough. "You think that I don't want this? That I don't want you? I do. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything. But wanting you... having you... it would destroy the only good thing I've ever touched."

His words set my skin on fire, but not in the way he probably meant them to.

I shake my head as I look at him, my eyes searching his.

"That's not your choice to make. No matter what, I'm in danger because of who I am. I'm not some fragile thing you have to protect from yourself. I know who you are, Mattheo. And I still—"

I cut myself off.

Still what, Amora?

Still want him? Still choose him? Still love him?

He steps closer, close enough now that I can feel the warmth of his body despite the cold wind biting at my skin.

"You still what?" he whispers, his voice barely audible.

I swallow hard, throat tight. I want to lie. I want to say nothing. I want to run.

But at the same time, I want to say the words.

"Still want you," I breathe. "Even when I know I shouldn't."

For a heartbeat, he's silent. Then suddenly—furiously—his hands are in my hair, his mouth on mine, and everything burns.

The kiss is frantic, a culmination of months of tension, anger, and need. My fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer, like maybe if I hold tight enough, he won't disappear again.

He breaks the kiss only to press his forehead to mine, breathing hard.

"So tell me," I say, panting softly. "What is it that you want?"

His eyes darken, his hands tightening around my waist.

"You," he murmurs. "I want you. I don't want anyone else touching you, looking at you, talking to you like you're theirs. You're not. You're mine. You always fucking were."

His words settle deep in my bones, igniting something wild inside me. My heart flutters in my chest, my stomach turning in the best way possible.

"Then say it," I whisper, barely audible.

His eyes lock on mine, burning with something raw and unrestrained.

"Be mine," he says, each word deliberate, like a vow. "For real this time."

A breath catches in my throat. The wind dances around us, but all I feel is him, the warmth of his presence. Slowly, I reach up, letting my fingertips brush against his cheek. His skin is warm under my touch, his jaw tightening beneath my fingertips.

My lips curl into a soft, knowing smile as I search his eyes, the storm in my chest finally starting to settle.

"Took you long enough."

His mouth crashes into mine again, hungrier this time. Reckless and raw and starved and there's no space left between us.

His hands are everywhere. Threading through my hair, gripping my waist, trailing down my back like he can't get enough. I gasp into his mouth as he spins us, pressing me hard against the nearest wall, the cold stone biting into my spine.

My fingers intwine in his hair, tousling his curls as his lips work against mine in a needy, bruising kiss.

In an instant, everything shifted, my mind dizzy as my body jolted forward. The air around us was different—warmer, and it smelled like him. We Apparated. To his dorm.

I break the kiss, my eyes taking in my surroundings as I catch my breath. I had only been to his dorm once before.

It's dimly lit, neatly organized, and cloaked in shadows and silence. Everything smells like him—like spice and smoke and something unnameable I've come to crave.

Mattheo doesn't give me long to adjust. His hands stay on me, grounding me, and his gaze never leaves mine.

"You don't know what you do to me," he breathes, low and unsteady. "Every fucking time I look at you... it's like I forget how to breathe."

I swallow hard, my fingers twitching against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palm.

"Then don't stop looking."

A sound slips from his throat—half a groan, half a whisper—and then he's kissing me again. Slower now. Deeper. Like he's trying to memorize every curve and shape.

His lips trace a path down my neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses, sending shivers down my spine. I tilt my head back, giving him better access, my breath catching in my throat as he nips at my sweet spot. Soft moans tumble from my lips as I can feel the heat of his body pressing against mine.

I tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin on mine. He obliges, pulling back just enough to discard the garment, tossing it somewhere on the floor. My eyes scan over his body, his chiseled torso and the scars that littered his chest and shoulders.

I reach out, my fingers gently caressing the lines of his lower stomach.

"Amora," Mattheo growls, his voice coming out as both a warning and a plea.

I smile, a slow, seductive curve of my lips that promises everything and nothing.

"Mattheo," I reply, my voice a soft purr.

My eyes lock on his as I shed my jumper, my tank top shortly following. Mattheo watches, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He lets out a low groan as his eyes trail over my bare chest. His hands reach out to cup my breasts, giving them a rough squeeze before circling my nipples with his thumbs until they harden under his touch.

I arch against his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips as I grind against him, feeling his hardness through his sweatpants. He leans down, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking and nipping gently, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. I run my fingers through his hair, tugging gently at the strands.

His hands roam my body, taking in every curve and contour. I can feel the heat building between us, the urgency in his touch, and it spurs me on. I want more. I need more.

His lips capture mine once more, and I could practically taste the hunger and desperation on his tongue. I deepen the kiss, my hands exploring the hard muscles of his chest, the ridges of his abs.

Mattheo's body shudders under my touch, his breath hitching as I trace the waistband of his sweatpants, teasing the sensitive skin just below his navel. He pulls back slightly, his eyes darkening with lust.

"Don't be a tease, Amora," he murmurs, a smirk spreading across his face.

I return the smile, a playful glint in my eye.

"Yeah?" I tease. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Something in him snaps. He grabs the back of my neck as a gasp escapes my lips. He wastes no time in smashing his lips back against mine, swallowing my noises. He rests me on the edge of the bed, his hands trailing down and roughly tugging down my pants.

He rips off my panties, tossing them aside as his hands grip my thighs, purposefully avoiding where I need him most. He pulls away briefly, his breath ragged as he looks down at me.

"Still wanna play games with me, angel?" he muses, his smirk widening.

With a surge of confidence, I switch our positions, pushing him back against the mattress. I straddle his hips as I sit up, my hands pressed against his chest. He looks up at me, his eyes filled with a mix of surprise and arousal as I grind against him, feeling his hardness press against my core through the thin fabric of his sweatpants.

"Fucking hell," he groans, his hands finding my hips. "You're gonna ruin me."

I lean down, my lips hovering just above his.

"I want you to lose control, Mattheo," I whisper.

He lets out a low, guttural groan, his hands gripping my hips tighter, his fingers digging into my flesh.

"You already have," he admits, his voice a desperate plea. "You fucking own me, Amora. Body and soul."

My lips curl into a smirk at his words, rolling my hips against his in a slow, torturous rhythm. I lean back slightly, resting my hands against his thighs as I give him a view of my body.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy," he groans. "I need to be inside you. I wanna feel that cunt clench around me."

A fresh wave of arousal flows through me, biting down on my bottom lip as I look down at him. I move over, hooking my fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling down both his pants and boxers, revealing his hard length. I discard the fabric to the side, my eyes roaming over his body, taking in every inch.

I straddle him once more, feeling his hardness pressed against my core. I smile, a slow, seductive curve of my lips as I give his cock a few strokes before I position him at my entrance. I drag his tip along my slit, coating him with my arousal.

"Amora," he growls, his voice a low warning. "Now be a good girl and ride me like a slut."

A shiver of excitement rolls down my spine. With that, I slowly lower myself onto him, feeling him fill me up inch by inch. We both let out a low moan, our breaths mingling as he bottoms out inside me, my body fitting him like a glove.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he curses.

I begin to move, rolling my hips in a sensual rhythm, feeling him hit all the right spots, the pleasure building with each movement. He meets my thrusts, his hips rolling in sync with mine, our breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

His hands roam my body, squeezing, caressing, his touch urgent and needy, as if he can't get enough. His hand wraps around my throat, pulling me down and capturing my lips in a rough, demanding kiss.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down my jaw, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, marking me as his.

"That's it, angel," he encourages, his hand tightening around my throat.

His other hand slaps my ass before gripping my hip, guiding my movements, urging me to go faster, harder. I place my hands on his chest for leverage, my body chasing the pleasure only he can give.

"Fuck, Matt," I moan breathlessly. "I'm gonna come."

I can feel the pressure building in my core, the coil tightening with every roll of my hips, each grind of my body against his.

Suddenly, Mattheo flips us over, pinning me beneath him as he takes control. He lets go of my throat, instead capturing my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head as he smashes his lips against mine in a searing, possessive kiss. His other hand grips my hip tightly, holding me in place as he begins to move, thrusting into me fast and deep.

My jaw falls open, moans tumbling from my lips as his lips trace a path down my neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouth kisses that sends waves of arousal straight to my core.

His movements become frantic, hitting my g-spot with every thrust. I arch my back against him, my chest almost touching his as he keeps my wrists firmly in place.

"Merlin," I moan. "Don't stop, Mattheo."

My words only seem to egg him on as he moves impossibly faster, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through my body as his hand reaches down, thumb rubbing gentle circles around my clit.

"Come for me, angel," he whispers in my ear.

His words send me over the edge as I cry out, coming undone as my body convulses with pleasure, my inner walls clenching around him.

"Mattheo!" I scream, my voice hoarse with passion and need.

With a few more powerful thrusts, he finds his release, his body shuddering as he spills into me, the sensation sending another wave of pleasure coursing through my body. He gives a few last pumps before coming to a stop, basking in the post-orgasmic bliss.

He lets go of my wrists, his hand cupping my jaw as he brings his lips to mine once again, this time in a slow, gentle manner. I run my fingers through his messy curls, my body melting into his touch.

He pulls away, his dark eyes meeting mine as we catch our breath, the aftershocks of our passionate encounter still rippling through us.

He slowly pulls out, being careful of my sensitivity. He collapses against the mattress next to me before pulling me into his arms. His arms feel safe, his embrace bringing me a sense of comfort and belonging that I've never felt before.

I rest my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat over the silence that had fallen over the room. He runs his hand through my hair, his fingers delicate against my scalp. My fingers draw patterns along his chest, tracing his scars.

"I love you, Mattheo," I break the silence, the words slipping from my tongue before I could stop them.

Mattheo freezes beneath me.

His fingers still in my hair, his breath catching in his throat. I can hear his heart beat quickening in his chest.

I close my eyes, suddenly terrified that I've said too much. That I've shattered whatever fragile thing we were building between us. For a brief moment, I regret it, I want to take it back. But that feeling quickly disappears.

Because it's true.

I'm in love with Mattheo Riddle.

His silence stretches.

"You don't have to say it back," I murmur quickly, my fingers tracing against the x-shaped scar over his heart. "I didn't say it to hear it. I just... I needed you to know."

Mattheo exhales sharply, like I've just knocked the air from his lungs. Then, his hand grasps my chin, tilting my face up to his.

"Hey," he murmurs, his eyes flickering between my own. "I love you too, Amora."

———

Chapter 28

"I wonder what the Dark Lord would think if he knew Mattheo was sleeping with the enemy?"

~~~

March 4th, 1997

Things between Mattheo and me have been going great. Better than I ever could have imagined, in fact.

The hardest part was not telling anyone, having to walk past him in the corridors and act like I hated him. Like I didn't want to shove him into the nearest broom closet and kiss him like my life depended on it.

Some days, it felt like I might crack under the weight of the pressure of pretending. I'd meet his eyes from across the room, and I'd force myself to look away. To ignore the flutter in my chest. To pretend like I didn't spend the night tangled up in his sheets, his voice whispering my name like a prayer.

It may sound corny to some.

But it was torture. Beautiful, maddening torture.

And yet, I would endure it a thousand times over, if it meant being able to share these moments with him.

I've never felt like this before. Or, I guess I should say I've never felt this way for anyone before. It's terrifying how much he means to me. How easily he's slipped under my skin and taken root in every corner of my heart.

Tonight, the air is crisp but calm. Spring is almost here, the snow is slowly beginning to melt as the sun stays out for longer.

Mattheo and I are tucked away in his dorm, wrapped in a thick blanket. I lay my head in his lap, his fingers lazily threading through my hair.

It's quiet, the only sound being the occasional crackle of the fire. His touch is slow and unhurried, like he's trying to memorize every strand. I let out a small sigh, my eyes fluttering closed.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to fall asleep," I murmur.

"Would that be so bad?" he mutters in return, his voice low and soft.

My lips curl into a small smile, my eyes opening to look at him.

"No," I whisper. "But I only have so many excuses for my nightly disappearances."

Mattheo smirks, his thumb brushing against my cheekbone.

"Then maybe I should start sneaking into your dorm instead," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with mischief.

I let out a small laugh, nudging his knee with my elbow.

"Oh, I'm sure Pansy would just love that," I reply, looking up at him.

"Maybe she would," he muses, his dark eyes fixed on mine. "Give that girl something else to gossip about."

I shake my head slightly, my smile widening.

"Hey," I hum. "She's my best friend. No insulting."

Mattheo rolls his eyes in return, but his lips twitched into a ghost of a smile.

"Right. I forgot you have a soft spot for snakes," he replies.

"You're funny," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

A silence falls over the room, but it wasn't awkward. I felt comfortable in his presence, in his arms. It was like the rest of the world didn't matter. For now, it was just us.

Mattheo's hand moves again, fingers threading back through my hair. I tilt my head slightly, placing a gentle kiss to the inside of his wrist before looking back up at him.

He cocks his head slightly, his gaze meeting mine once again.

"What're we gonna do once school ends?" I ask after a moment. "Like over the summer?"

Mattheo doesn't answer right away. His eyes stay on mine, as if he was searching for something.

"I don't know," he admits, letting out a breath of air. "But I don't really want to think about it."

I press my lips together, nodding softly. I wasn't sure what laid in the future for Mattheo and I. Our worlds were never meant to collide in the way they did, yet here we are.

"I don't want you to go back to your father," I say, pausing for a moment. "Why don't you stay with me? At my family's estate?"

Mattheo froze.

His hands stilled in my hair, his muscles going tense beneath me, like my words had struck him deeper than he had expected.

"You don't know what you're asking," he answers, his expression unreadable.

"Yes," I say, holding his gaze. "I do."

His brow furrow slightly, his thumb still resting against my cheek.

"Your mother would never allow it," he argues.

"She would," I reply quietly, half trying to convince myself as well. "If she knew what you meant to me, she would."

Mattheo shakes his head slowly.

"No. No she wouldn't," he stands his ground. "Not if she knew who I really am. What I've done. What I'm capable of. Who my father is."

"Don't do that," I say, my voice soft as my throat tightens.

"Do what?" he asks, his usual sharp tone returning.

My eyes flicker between his, a swirl of emotions dancing between us.

"Don't make yourself the villain." I whisper.

Mattheo clenches his jaw, but he doesn't pull away. His stormy eyes stare into mine as he stays quiet.

"Just—" I cut through the silence. "Please humor me. Promise me you won't go back to your father. I will figure out the rest."

I sit up in his bed, turning to face him. His eyes darken as he swipes his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"I can't promise you that, Amora," he finally says, his voice low.

I feel my chest tighten, the sharp sensation of tears beginning to prick my eyes. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I didn't want to cry. Not now.

"But," he adds, his voice softening. His thumb brushes against my cheek once again, making me look back at him. "I can promise that I want to. I want to stay with you more than anything. I just—"

"Don't know if it's possible," I finish for him.

He nods in return.

My hand grasps the fabric of his sleeve, holding onto him tightly.

"I can find a way. We can make this possible," I say.

Mattheo doesn't reply. Instead, his hand cups the back of my head, pulling me against his chest and resting his chin on the top of my head.

We stay like that for a while. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, letting the sound wrap around me in the quiet of the room. Time slipped away, I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, relishing in each others comfort.

"I should go," I murmur against his shoulder, though every part of me wants to stay.

Mattheo's grip tightens slightly, before reluctantly letting go.

"I know," he says, his voice rough. "Be careful."

I pull back enough just to meet his eyes.

"Always," I reply.

I very reluctantly untangle myself from his arms and stand. I pull my jacket around my shoulders, hugging it close around my body. I turn back just before pushing the door open.

"I love you, Mattheo," I whisper.

His eyes are still on me, his lips curling into a small smile.

"I love you too, Amora."

~~~

Morning comes all too quickly, the sun creeping in through the windows of my own dorm. For a few moments, I lay still, my face half-buried in my pillow as I dread having to get out of bed.

"Amora," a voice calls softly.

I groan into my pillow.

"Amora," Pansy says again, firmer this time, along with yanking my blanket off my body.

"Merlin, Pans," I mutter, shielding my face with my pillow. "You're evil."

"And you're dramatic," she replies, tossing the blanket to the floor. "Now get up before you make us late to Potions. Breakfast is already over."

With a sigh, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, finally sitting up to face her. She was already dressed and ready, her neat black hair falling perfectly just above her shoulders.

"Just because you've been sneaking off to Merlin knows where at sinful hours of the night, does not mean you get to skip class," she says, returning to her vanity.

I shoot her a glare, running a hand through my hair as I reluctantly stand up from the comfort of my mattress.

"I already told you I was at the library," I reply.

Pansy snorts out a laugh, dabbing a bit of gloss on her lips as she eyes me through the mirror.

"Oh please," she says. "Unless the library's now scented of sandalwood and cigarettes, I'm not buying it."

I furrow my brows, pausing my actions.

"What?" I question.

"Don't play coy with me," she goes on, turning around to face me. "You reek of him, Amora. And before you even try to deny it—don't. I'm your best friend. I know that look in your eye and I know when something is going on with you."

I stare at her for a moment, my lips parted slightly. I should have known that I could never get something like this past Pansy.

"Pansy..." I begin, but the words dissolve on my tongue.

There was no use in lying, she already knew.

"It's him, isn't it?" she asks. "Mattheo?"

My silence is all the confirmation she needs.

Pansy exhales sharply through her nose, her arms crossing as she leans back against the vanity.

"You have to promise me, Pans," I say. "You cannot tell anyone."

"Bloody hell, Amora," she mutters.

I take a few steps towards her, grasping her hands as I look her in the eyes.

"Please, Pansy," I add quietly, my eyes pleading with her.

"Fine," she sighs. "I promise I will not tell anyone."

Pansy holds my gaze for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, finally, she squeezes my hands in return.

"But for the record," she says, arching a brow at me. "I think you're utterly insane."

A small smile tugs at my lips as I let go of her hands, turning away to continue getting ready.

"Noted," I laugh softly, getting my uniform together.

I get ready as quickly as I can, brushing out my hair and applying a bit of mascara before sliding my uniform and robes on. I grab my book bag as Pansy and I head out of our dorm.

The Slytherin common room is rather quiet this morning, most students having been at breakfast or already heading to class. Our footsteps echoed through the corridors as we headed to Potions. Luckily, it wasn't a far walk.

We slip inside just as Professor Snape sweeps past the front of the classroom, his cloak billowing behind him like a shadow. I kept my head down as I take my seat next to Mattheo.

To be honest, I was quite surprised to even see Mattheo in class. His dark curls fell over his eyes as he lazily flipped through the pages of the textbook.

Neither of us utter a word. I toss my bag down next to my chair as I get settled, Snape's drawl taking over the classroom as he begins the lesson. Mattheo's hand brushes against my thigh as I fight back the urge to smile.

"Today, you all will be preparing Polyjuice Potion," Snape announces, his voice cutting through the room. "If successful, it will allow the drinker to transform into their desired form. If brewed incorrectly, it may induce particularly nasty effects. I trust you all can imagine how thrilling that can be."

I look down at the table in front of me, already beginning to organize my ingredients.

"Instructions are on page 243 of your textbook. You may begin."

The class scrambles to get their things together, slight chatter beginning to fill the room. Mattheo finally looks at me, his dark eyes burning into me as something gleams just below the surface.

We begin working, slipping into an unspoken rhythm. He begins chopping the fluxweed as I measure out the powdered bicorn horn. My eyes trail around the room, making sure no one was paying attention.

"Stop," I whisper to Mattheo.

"Stop what?" his voice was low, teasing almost.

"Looking at me like that," I reply.

"Like what?" Mattheo smirks.

I narrow my eyes at him as he has that playful glint in his eyes. I shake my head slightly, letting out a short, sarcastic laugh.

"Merlin, you're insufferable," I mutter, stirring the cauldron.

His smirk only widens as he turns his attention back towards the potion. His hand brushes against mine as he pretends to reach over to grab an ingredient. He leans over as I feel his breath against the shell of my ear.

"That's not what you said the other night," he whispers to me. "Tangled in my sheets."

My heart flutters in my chest as my cheeks turn pink.

Mattheo takes the knotgrass, returning to his seat. Thankfully, no one seems to be paying any attention to us.

"You're an arse," I say.

Mattheo chuckles under his breath, that infuriating, addictive smirk never leaving his lips.

"Mhm," he hums, his attention resuming on the task in front of us.

I shoot him a playful glare, biting the inside of my cheek as I attempt to hide the smile that tugs at my lips.

The potion bubbles steadily, swirls of green and grey forming in the cauldron, making a mud-like substance. Polyjuice Potion takes about a month to fully brew.

The rest of class blurs past in a strange haze, Snape giving some Gryffindors detention for melting the cauldron, Draco glaring at Potter from across the room, just the usual.

Snape finally dismisses us as I quickly gather my things before stepping out into the corridor, Mattheo falling in step far behind me.

Theo catches up to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder as we head towards Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Morning sunshine," Theo smirks. "Trouble getting out of bed this morning?"

I glance sideways at him, a small smile forming on my lips.

"Don't I always?" I shoot back. "Pansy was oh so gracious to let me sleep in and skip breakfast."

He laughs in return, the sound echoing off the stone walls in the midst of the chaos in the halls.

"You missed a divine breakfast," Theo teases. "Pumpkin scones."

I let out a dramatic gasp, my mouth falling open.

"Oh you're joking!" I say. "Those are one of my favorites."

"Well, luckily for you, I saved you one," he replies.

I glance up at him, his bright blue eyes staring back at me.

"Oh Theodore, you're a saint," I say, a hint of playfulness to my voice.

He grins, handing me a neatly wrapped pastry.

"Don't forget it," he teases.

I take the scone, unwrapping it. I tear off a piece, popping it into my mouth. It was still slightly warm, the sweetness matching the subtle cinnamon flavor that tastes just like fall.

I take one last bite as we approach the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom before wrapping the rest up, setting it in my bag for later.

Theo and I take our usual seats, the classroom quickly filling up as students file in. I set my bag down, pulling out my textbook.

Professor Riddle enters just moments after, a hard expression written on his face as a silence falls over the room.

"I have graded your papers on nonverbal spells," he announces.

He slams the large leather book down on his desk, the sound echoing around the room.

"Merlin, help us," I mutter under my breath.

Riddle grabs a stack of parchment from his desk, taking strides around the room as he begins passing back our essays. He makes passive aggressive comments to some, others he sets down without a word.

He gets to Theo, silently placing the parchment in front of him. The number 92 were written in bold, red markings at the top of his page.

Professor Riddle fixes his eyes on me as he hands back my essay. The number 54 was circled at the top of my parchment. My heart sank in my chest.

He failed me.

"See me after class, Ms. Sinclair," he says, his voice colder than before.

There's just no way. I worked hard on that essay. In fact, I even worked on parts of it with Theo. He is doing this on purpose. I'm sure of it.

I drowned out the noise that flowed through the room, I couldn't hear over my own racing thoughts. I rustle through the pages of parchment, skimming over the notes.

Riddle returned to the front of the classroom, his fingers laced behind his back. He begins a lecture, but it doesn't register. I can barely hear over the thudding of my own pulse.

I try to listen. Try to take notes. But the numbers on the parchment burn into the back of my mind like a brand.

Every time I glance up, Tom is already looking at me. Like he's waiting for me to speak up. Like he's waiting for me to break.

Minutes tick by in slow motion, as if the clock wants to torment me. I jot down a few notes out of muscle memory, but my quill trembles in my hand. I can feel Mattheo's gaze from across the room like a second pulse, but I don't look. I can't. I don't want to make this worse.

After what feels like an eternity, Professor Riddle finally dismisses the class.

Chairs screech against the floors as students shuffle out, their voices becoming a distant hum. Theo turns to me, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

"I'll meet you at lunch, yeah?" I say.

Theo reluctantly nods, turning and disappearing into the corridor with the last of the students. The heavy classroom door closes behind him with a click that seems to echo louder than anything else.

An uncomfortable silence stretches across the room, my feet feeling like they're stuck to the ground.

"Ms. Sinclair," his voice slices through the quiet like a blade.

I step forward, cautiously approaching the front of the classroom. Tom's eyes meet mine as I step in front of his desk, taking the seat that sits just across.

"Care to explain?" Tom speaks up.

"You failed me," I say, my voice imitating a false sense of calm. "There's nothing to explain. You failed me."

Tom cocks his head slightly, folding his arms behind his back as he slowly begins to circle the desk, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I graded you," he corrects. "You failed yourself."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I did everything you asked. I followed the prompt, I studied, met the length requirement, I cited different texts," I argue.

Tom stops just behind my chair, and though I can't see him, I feel his presence like a pressure between my shoulder blades.

"And yet," he says slowly, leaning in slightly. "You produced work that was average at best. Tell me, Amora, is it because of certain... distractions?"

My jaw tightens as I listen to his words.

"I'm not distracted," I snap back.

Tom moves again, stepping into view as he looks at me curiously. He stops right in front of me, leaning back against the edge of his desk.

"Liar," he replies.

I raise a brow at him, feeling anger begin to simmer in my chest.

"With all due respect, Professor," I spit. "I don't think it's your place to question what's going on in my personal life."

Tom's expression doesn't flicker, but something sharp flashes behind his eyes. Amusement, maybe. Or something darker.

"Well, Ms. Sinclair," he drawls. "When it impacts your academic performance, it is in deed my place to question."

My mouth opens, a snarky remark on the tip of my tongue. But this is what he wants. He wants me to snap back.

"I worked hard on that essay," I say calmly. "You know I did. So why don't you stop pretending that this is about performance and just admit it?"

He arches a brow, his eyes staring into mine.

"Admit what?" he questions.

"That this is personal," I reply without skipping a beat. "You're punishing me because of Mattheo."

Tom clenches his jaw, a sick sort of amusement crossing his features.

"Ah," he drawls. "You mean your...indulgence with my brother."

He lets out a short, quiet laugh.

"You know," he continues. "I wonder what the Dark Lord would think if he knew Mattheo was sleeping with the enemy? I think he might just come here and kill you himself."

Tom's words hit like a curse.

I stay silent. My heart drops in my stomach. My hands ball into fists in my lap, my nails digging into my palm so hard I wouldn't be surprised if I drew blood.

He watches me for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"But he doesn't know," he adds thoughtfully. "Not yet."

My breath catches in my throat. This isn't just a game anymore, this was a threat. A threat to both me and Mattheo.

"You wouldn't," I say, my voice gone hoarse.

He tilts his head, feigning innocence.

"Wouldn't what?" he asks.

"Tell him," I answer. "You wouldn't tell him. Because if you do, you lose all your control. And you like control, don't you, Tom?"

He leans down, his face only inches away from mine. Close enough to feel the chill in his voice.

"I don't need to tell him, Amora. I just need you to know that I could," he says cooly.

I swallow hard, my blood running cold.

"I'm not afraid of you," I lie through my teeth.

His lips curl into a small smile, but its far from genuine. Theres something about it that sends a chill down my spine.

"Then you're even more naive than I thought."

He stands up straight again, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as if the conversation bored him now. He takes slow, careful steps back around to his desk.

"I'll be submitting a request to Professor Dumbledore for private tutoring sessions," he says, his voice calm but firm. "You'll report to my office every Friday evening until further notice."

My stomach twists.

Are you fucking kidding me?

"But—"

"No excuses. No tardiness. I'll see you this Friday," he cuts in, silencing me before I can get another word out.

I stare at him stunned. I was too angry, too afraid, too caught in the web he's spun around me to even move.

Tom shifts his attention without another word, taking a seat and opening the thick leather book that sat on his desk, dismissing me like I'm nothing.

I rise slowly, my legs stiff and unsteady beneath me. The room feels colder now, like whatever small bit of warmth that was there disappeared the second he opened his mouth.

I don't look back. I don't give him the satisfaction.

I step into the corridor, the door clicking shut behind me. The halls were empty.

I don't know what his endgame is. Just the thought of it makes me feel sick.

I don't know what game Tom Riddle is playing, but whatever it is, I'm already losing.

———

Chapter 29

"I'll rip apart the entire fucking world before I let that happen."

~~~

Friday arrives far too quickly, my stomach turning in nervous knots as every hour that ticks by is one hour closer to finally face what I've been dreading.

I stare at my plate during lunch, pushing around its contents with my fork as it scrapes against the porcelain. My stomach flips, catching my lip between my teeth as my mind races with different scenarios.

A soft clink from across the table draws my attention, glancing up to find Pansy eyeing me over the rim of her goblet. Her expression is unreadable, her brows slightly pulled together in concern.

"You've barely touched your food," she says quietly, though the boys are too immersed in conversation about the upcoming Quidditch match to even listen to their surroundings.

"I'm not really hungry," I mutter, forcing a small shrug.

I stab my fork into a roasted potato that I have no intention of eating before looking up to meet her gaze.

"That's like the third time you've said that this week," she narrows her eyes at me.

A sigh escapes my lips, my fingers curling around my mug of coffee. I think for a moment before replying.

"You know when you get those horrible feelings in the pit of your stomach?" I ask. "Like something really bad is about to happen?"

Pansy's expression shifts, her usual teasing edge she carries falling away.

"I've known you since we were eleven, Amora," Pansy replies. "So I know that your gut feelings are usually never wrong."

I look down, running my finger along the rim of my coffee mug.

"I'm in on a lot of bad shit, Pans," I sigh. "Everything is fine right now, but I feel like its just a matter of time before it all falls apart."

Pansy stays silent for a moment, pursing her lips in a fine line.

"And now with these private tutoring things," my face contorts in disgust. "It might just be the iceberg that makes the ship sink."

Pansy leans forward, her voice low.

"Then sink it before it drags you under," she says.

I blink at her, letting the words settle.

"I wish it were that simple..." I murmur. "But I don't want to talk anymore about this. I'll keep you updated later."

Pansy doesn't push anymore on the topic. I know she's just worried, and frankly, so am I. But theres nothing either of us can do. That's my life. As messed up as it is.

"Anyways..." I say, quickly trying to change the subject. "Did you hear Ron Weasley was spiked by a love potion last night?"

Pansy snorts, her lips curling into a sly smile.

"You're joking," she gasps.

"I wish I was," I giggle along with her. "Somehow he ended up in the Hospital Wing, but Merlin knows how that happened."

Pansy shakes her head, still grinning.

"Honestly, if anyone was going to fall victim to a love potion, it was going to be him. Poor bloke probably fell in love with a suit of armor," she says.

I let out a laugh, hand slapping over my mouth. Though the sound was loud enough that Theo glances over with a raised brow.

"What's so funny?" he asks, pulling off a piece of bread and popping it into his mouth.

"Love potion," Pansy answers vaguely, waving him off. "We'll tell you later."

I take a sip from my mug, the coffee having gone slightly cold.

"Keeping secrets now?" Blaise chimes in.

"No secrets here," Pansy replies. "Just idiot Gryffindors."

Theo leans in, clearly intrigued by the gossip.

"Well go on then. Who was the poor sod who tried to enchant Weaselbee?" Theo asks, popping another piece of bread into his mouth.

"Rumor has it, it was meant for Potter," I reply, setting the mug on the table. "But clearly something went very wrong."

Blaise snorts out a laugh into his goblet.

"You're joking," he says. "That's... tragic."

"I'd say it's karma, really," Draco drawls from across the Slytherin table. "Imagine pining after Potter of all people, and then ending up with Ronald as your accidental lover."

Pansy laughs beside me, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

"My money's on the culprit being Romilda Vane," Pansy says. "She's always been a strange one."

A laugh escapes my lips, my eyes wandering off as the sounds in the distance blur into one. The warmth of the conversation slowly fades, stormy clouds filling the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. How fitting.

The remainder of the day passes by unfortunately fast. Classes blur together, professor's lectures going in one ear and out the other. I had headed back to the dorms, throwing out some lame excuse to skip dinner. I needed a breath of air. To mentally prepare myself.

By the time seven o'clock rolls around, the corridors are much more quiet. There's probably a party going on somewhere in the castle, but students have hit that mid semester lull, making the atmosphere a bit more peaceful.

My shoes click against the floor as I walk the halls, my anxiety growing with each step. That little voice inside me is telling me to turn around, but I don't. Deep down I think I'm more afraid of what will happen if I don't go rather than if I do.

The dungeon air is colder at night, the torched shadows dancing across the stone walls. My hands tighten around the straps of my bag, knuckles turning white. I wish I had someone walking with me. Pansy. Theo. Mattheo. But I'm alone. Just like he wants me to be.

I finally reach the door, the familiar, heavy oak etched with decades of wear. I pause for a brief moment before reluctantly raising my hand to knock. The sound echoes, three soft sounds to seal my fate.

"Come in," the voice sounds from the office.

I slowly push the door open, the hinges creaking.

Professor Riddle sat behind his desk, quill in hand. He doesn't look up right away. Instead, he finishes the sentence he was writing with slow, deliberate strokes of his quill. Only then did he speak.

"Ms. Sinclair," he speaks up. "Right on time."

I swallow the lump in my throat, my eyes scanning the room around me. I had never been in his office before. It was much more... intimate.

"You said seven," I reply quietly.

"I did," he says, his gaze lingering for a second too long. "Sit."

The door clicks shut behind me as I step towards the the chair that sat in front of his desk. I set my bag down next to the chair, slowly sinking into the leather seat.

The walls are lined with dark wood shelves, filled with books that I can only imagine contain dangerous ancient magic. A low-burning fire crackles in the corner, casting flickering shadows that stretch across the room. The thought of being in such a private setting alone with him made my stomach churn.

I watch as he places his quill back in the ink, leaning back in his chair as he folds his hand in his lap.

"Tell me Ms. Sinclair," he says, his 'professional' facade quickly fading. "Are you always so tense? Or is that a courtesy you save for me?"

I clench my jaw, looking up to meet his eyes.

"I'm fine," I answer sternly.

"Mm. So you've said," he replies, his lips twitching in amusement.

He reaches for a small book, sliding it towards me.

"We will start with theory," he says. "Your practical skills are passable. Your understanding of magical framework, however, could use some work."

I glance down at the book, staying quiet as my eyes scan over the cover.

"Of course, this isn't just about improving your grades," he continues, his voice smooth. "You and I both know thats not what brought you here."

I meet his eyes again, raising a brow at him.

"Then what did bring me here?" I ask, though deep down I think I already know the answer.

Tom tilts his head slightly, eyeing me in a manner that makes a chill roll down my spine.

"Curiosity. Control. A tendency to keep secrets you shouldn't," he pauses for a moment. "But also disobedience..."

"Excuse me?" I scoff, the words slipping past my lips before I could stop them.

Tom's smile sharpens. He doesn't flinch at my tone, instead, he leans back against the chair like he's won something. Like provoking me was part of these stupid lessons.

"There it is," he says quietly. "That fire. That rebellion inside you that has my brother so smitten."

My fingers curl into fists, nails digging into my palms.

"So that's what this is all about, isn't it?" I ask. "I'm being punished because of Mattheo?"

"Oh Amora," he murmurs lowly. "Punishment implies anger. I'm not angry. I'm intrigued."

The way the words roll off his tongue makes my skin crawl.

"I don't need your intrigue," I snap.

"No, you don't," he says, voice cool and calm. "But you have it all the same."

Oh fuck this.

I feel sick. I'm so tired of giving him the satisfaction of thinking he has some sort of power over me. I can't let him think I'm afraid of him.

"Respectfully, Professor," I say, my voice laced with defiance. "I came here to learn. So teach me."

A beat passes.

Then, slowly, he stands.

The shadow stretches taller behind him as he circles the desk, each step clicking against the cold stone floors. He stops just behind my chair as he leans forward, his voice low by my ear.

"And what exactly is it that you want to learn, Amora?"

I inhale sharply, forcing myself not to flinch.

"I don't want to learn anything from you," I answer quickly. "You're the one who demanded I be here."

Tom stays quiet for a moment, the uncomfortable silence curling around the room like smoke. I can feel the heat of his breath against the shell of my ear, sending goosebumps down my skin.

Then, he lets out a soft, low chuckle.

"I may have set this up," he says softly. "But you're still here. And that, Amora, is a choice."

He finally takes a step back, returning to his desk chair as I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Don't act like I had an option," I scoff.

Tom leans back, crossing one leg over the other, a small smirk etched on his lips.

"There's always an option," he says smoothly. "You could have simply not shown up. Reported me. Run to Dumbledore, or to Mattheo."

He narrows his eyes at me, wielding his brother's name like a weapon.

"But you didn't, did you?" he continues. "I could have forced you. But I didn't need to."

He must be out of his bloody mind.

"I'll teach you. You'll learn. And eventually, you'll stop pretending you don't want to," he adds, not giving me a chance to respond.

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, an expression of slight disgust written all over my features.

"You don't know what I want," I snap back.

His lips twitch, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"No," Tom says. "But I will."

I stare at him, jaw tightly clenched as every muscle in my body coils up. He stares back, that same dangerous glint shining in his eyes.

Merlin, am I having déjà vu?

"Open the book, Ms. Sinclair," he clears his throat, his mood snapping back in a mere second. "Page fifteen."

I hesitate for a moment.

Just for a second. Long enough for him to notice.

He narrows his eyes at me, his gaze daring me to defy him any more than I already have.

Reluctantly, I reach for the book, flipping to page fifteen. The parchment is dry against my fingertips, I cringe slightly at the sensation. I stare at the page for a second. There was some sort of diagram etched in black ink, several paragraphs of text written beneath it.

"Read the third paragraph," he instructs smoothly, tapping the edge of the desk with one long finger. "Out loud."

My eyes flicker towards him, glaring slightly.

"Why?" I question with irritation.

"Because I told you to," he replies, tilting his head slightly in amusement.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath as I resist the urge to roll my eyes or push him any further. My grip tightens around the book.

"Non-verbal spells require more than just skill. It demands precision, focus, intention, and silence of the mind. The spell does not have incantations to fall back on, therefore, the caster must rely entirely on internal clarity and control. The mind must remain sharp. Emotion is not the enemy, but it must remain tamed. If focus waivers, your magic will be fractured."

I let the book fall slightly in my hands, resisting the urge to slam it shut.

Tom watches me closely, his fingers drumming lightly against the wooden desk.

"Fitting, isn't it?" he muses. "A fractured mind. A fractured spell."

I narrow my eyes.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" I question.

He doesn't answer right away. He rises from the chair in an infuriatingly calm manner, pacing slowly across the room.

"It means the problem isn't ability, Amora. It's your control. You let your emotions run wild, and when they do, they control you," he says, taking slow steps behind his desk, his hands twisting the rings around his fingers. "That's why you failed the assignment."

I sit up straight, looking directly at him as I give him a small glare.

"Don't act like my failing has anything to do with academics," I say. "You've made it personal."

Tom stops pacing. He doesn't look right away.

After a moment, he turns towards me, bracing his palms against the desk as he leans over, narrowing his eyes dangerously at me.

"Everything is personal, Amora," he says, his dark eyes piercing into mine. "Magic is personal. Power is personal. And weakness—" his eyes narrow, "—that, most of all, is personal."

A heavy silence fills the room, the weight pressing against my chest as his words hang in the air like a curse.

"Do you think I'm the only one who sees it? That fire in you?" he speaks up after a moment, his voice low, laced with something I can't quite distinguish. "You think I've made this about Mattheo. I didn't. He's a distraction—the result of your emotions and impulsiveness. It's you that I'm truly after."

His words settle between us. I bite back a retort, trying to choose my words carefully.

"Oh you've made that very clear today," I say, my voice low and guarded. "If you're here to complete Mattheo's task... why haven't you done it by now?"

Tom's eyes flicker, a flash of something unreadable crossing his expression before it hardens into that cold, calculated mask again.

"Because, Amora," he says slowly. "There's still so much I've yet to learn about you."

I stare back at him for a moment, my brows furrowing together as my lips part, at a loss of words if you will. I let out a breath, shaking my head slightly as I stand.

"Oh fuck this," I mutter, quickly throwing my bag over my shoulder.

Tom's gaze follows my every movement, yet he doesn't move to stop me.

I hurry towards the door, desperate for air amongst the thick tension in the room.

"I'll see you in class Monday, Ms. Sinclair," Tom says, yet I don't turn to look at him.

I slam the door shut behind me. My heart pounds in my chest as I make my way through the empty corridors, my mind racing.

What the actual fuck was that?

The scene replays in my mind, making my skin crawl.

The sound of his voice. The look in his eyes. I hate it. I hate it all.

My footsteps echo through the silent halls, faster now, fueled by the unease coiling tighter in my chest. Every flicker of torch suddenly feels like it's watching me.

Fortunately, I know exactly where to go to quiet my thoughts. My feet carry me toward the astronomy tower on instinct alone, it's become second nature by now.

The wind picks up the further I go, taking careful steps up the tower till I reach the top. By the time I reach the top, the cold night air bites at my skin as I pull my sweater tighter around myself.

I exhale slowly, my breath visible in the cold as I step towards the edge. Leaning against the stone railing, I let my eyes drift over the view below—Hogwarts sprawled beneath me like something out of a dream, the castle shining in the moonlight.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to let the quiet soothe me. Tom had won. He had successfully gotten under my skin.

I open my eyes with a sigh, blinking up at the sky. Stars littered across the darkness, sparkling and unbothered by any chaos that happens below. I envy that.

My hands tighten around the railing, knuckles turning white. A gust of wind rushes past me, my hair whipping around my face. I just stand there, letting the cold sting my skin.

I want to cry. Scream. But I don't, I hold it together. For now.

But then, I heart footsteps. Soft, hesitant. I freeze. I don't have to turn around to know who it is.

"Amora?" Mattheo questions, his voice quiet.

I pause for a moment, hesitating before turning around.

"Hey..." I mutter. He steps closer, his eyes trailing over me with concern.

"I thought I might find you here," he says. "You weren't in your dorm."

"Yeah," I murmur. "I just needed some air."

My eyes trail off to avoid his gaze. I knew if I looked him in the eyes I would crack. He would know something is wrong.

He steps closer, I can almost feel the heat of his body as he grasps my chin gently, forcing me to look at him.

"What's wrong, angel?" he asks.

I blink up at him, throat tight, trying to find the words. But they stick there, like thorns. My lip trembles before I can stop it.

His expression shifts immediately. The usual cocky edge I'm so used to seeing disappears.

"Amora," he murmurs, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "Talk to me."

My jaw clenches. I shake my head, but the tears are already welling.

"I'm fine," the words slip past my lips.

"Don't do that," Mattheo says softly, his voice rough with concern. "Don't you dare lie to me."

My eyes flicker between his, finding a strange sense of warmth and comfort in their darkness. I let out a shaky breath.

"It's just him," I manage. "It's Tom."

Mattheo clenches his jaw, narrowing his eyes.

"Did he do something?" he asks, anger quickly rising. "I'll fucking kill him."

I force out a bitter laugh, shaking my head.

"No, not like that," I say. "He just... gets under my skin. Like he knows exactly what buttons to press to get a rise out of me."

Mattheo's fingers tighten around my chin, steadying me.

His gaze searches mine, darker now. Not with anger at me, but something else entirely. Danger. Possessiveness.

"I told you," he murmurs, voice low and edged with fury, "he's obsessed with control. And you—" his thumb brushes my cheek again, gentler this time—"you're the one thing he can't have."

I swallow the lump growing in my throat. A small tear escapes from the corner of my eye as Mattheo brushes it away.

"You don't understand," I say, my voice growing quiet. "You're not the reason he's here. I am."

Mattheo's body goes still.

"What are you talking about?" he asks, his voice dangerously calm—too calm.

His eyes are locked on mine. The tension that rolls off him is suffocating.

I take a breath, though it doesn't do much to steady me.

"He said this isn't about you," I reply. "That everything he's doing... it's not because you're his brother. It's because of me."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" he furrows his brows, dropping his grasp.

I press my lips together, running a hand through my hair.

"I think it has something to do with your task," I whisper. "When I asked him why he hasn't done it yet he said that there's still so much to learn about me."

Mattheo's jaw clenches so tight it looks painful. He turns away for a beat, dragging a hand through his hair as he backs a step away, trying to breathe through whatever fury is rising inside him.

"Son of a bitch," he mutters under his breath. "I knew he would do some shit like this."

He spins back towards me, eyes darkening, burning with a fury that sends a chill down my spine. Not at him, but at the intensity of how far he'd go to protect me.

Mattheo steps forward again, closing the space between us in two long strides. His hands find my waist, grounding me, but his touch trembles with barely restrained rage.

"I don't care what kind of game he thinks he's playing," Mattheo continues, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "I'll tear his whole fucking world apart if he tries to drag you into it."

His presses his forehead against mine, his fingers digging into my sides.

"You're not his pawn," he whispers. "You're mine."

Another tear slips from my eye, rolling down my cheek as I peer up at him.

"I didn't want to tell you," I mutter. "I didn't want to make things worse."

"Worse?" he repeats, voice strained. "Amora...there is no worse than this if I don't know what's happening to you. If I can't protect you..."

I nod softly, biting the inside of my cheek.

"I just—I didn't know how," I whisper. "How to explain it. How to even process it myself," I swallow hard. "He's used Legilimency on me, Mattheo. He's been inside my head and seen my thoughts."

He leans down, lips brushing the top of my forehead. It's tender, reverent, like he's trying to kiss away the poison Tom planted there.

"I swear to you," he murmurs, "he won't touch you. He won't twist you, or use you, or break you. I'll rip apart the entire fucking world before I let that happen."

I nod again, brows drawn together as tears begin to freely fall down my cheeks. I'm not even sure how I feel anymore. Fear, maybe frustration. My tears were just a symbol of the kind of day I've had.

Mattheo wraps his arms fully around me, pulling me into his chest like he's trying to shield me from the entire world. I let myself fall into him. I wrap my arms around him as well, burying my face in his chest.

His heartbeat thunders in my ear, his hand stroking my back in a comforting manner. We stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each others arms.

I felt safe in that moment. Safe from the storm that was brewing around us. Though I can't shake the feeling that this fight is far from over.

———

Chapter 30

"Happy Birthday..."

~~~

March 15th, 1997

The sun hasn't even fully risen before I'm pulled from sleep by the sound of excited squeals.

"Happy Birthday!" Pansy's voice cuts through my slumber, her energy far too high for this ungodly hour.

She pulls the curtains open in one swift motion, the soft morning light pouring into our dorm.

"Rise and shine, darling!" she exclaims.

A groan escapes my lips as I turn over on my side, trying to block out the blinding glow.

"Merlin, Pans," I grumble. "Do you have to be this cheery so early?"

"I absolutely do," she says, climbing onto the edge of my bed, facing me. "It's your birthday, Amora! This is a special occasion."

I force a smile, willing myself to play along.

"It's just like any other day, Pans," I reply, slowly pushing myself to sit up.

She lets out a dramatic gasp, slapping a hand against her chest in mock offense.

"Oh you wound me," she says. "Today is the day to celebrate you and your beautiful self."

I roll my eyes playfully, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders.

"I don't know..." I trail off. "You know how I am about birthdays."

Pansy shrugs before pulling a small silver box from behind her back.

"Would this change your mind?" she smirks, handing me the small package.

"Oh, baby, you didn't have to get me anything," I say.

I look down at the present, neatly wrapped in a shimmering silver paper with a small green bow to tie it all together.

"Of course I did," she replies, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Now open it."

I hesitate for a moment, my fingers brushing over the ribbon before untying it carefully.

Inside the box lies a dainty silver bracelet, it's a thin chain decorated with small emerald gems that shine in the morning light. It was simple, yet elegant. My throat tightens.

"Oh Pans," I murmur, setting the chain in my palm as I inspect it.

"You like it?" she asks, watching with hopeful eyes.

"I love it," I answer honestly, moving to clasp it around my wrist. "Thank you."

She smiles proudly, clearly satisfied with my reaction.

"Only the best for my best friend," she adds.

I give her a small smile before pulling her in for a hug, wrapping my arms tightly around her.

"You're welcome, birthday girl," she mutters against my shoulder, giving me one last squeeze before pulling away. "Now, go get ready for breakfast so we can make it before all the best pastries are gone."

"Alright, alright," I sigh, reluctantly pulling my covers off.

I stand up, stretching my arms as I adjust to the morning. I begin getting ready for the day, doing my makeup and slipping on my uniform. But I was just going through the motions. Inside, I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and rot there for the rest of the day.

I hate my birthday. I mean I really, really hate it. It only serves as a reminder of every bad thing that's ever happened in my life. As each year passed by, I thought it would get easier. But it never does, not really anyways.

By the time I reach the Great Hall with Pansy, the morning bustle of breakfast is in full swing. Laughter echoes around the Ravenclaw table, excited chatter of the upcoming weekend bouncing around the room.

Pansy and I take our usual seats at the Slytherin table, Theo, Blaise, and Draco having already been waiting for us. Theo is the first one to notice us, his blue eyes meeting mine as he shoots me a knowing smile. It was the kind of look that didn't need words.

I give him a nod, my lips curling into a half-smile.

"There's our birthday girl!" Blaise announces as soon as I sit down.

I force another smile, trying to ignore the way my stomach twists as I flatten out my skirt.

"Thanks, guys, really," I reply half-heartedly.

I reach for my mug, quickly filling it practically to the brim with black coffee.

Draco leans back, eyeing me with a raised brow.

"Merlin, you look like someone someone kicked your cat," he says.

I roll my eyes, taking a long sip from my mug.

"Charming, as always," I mutter.

"I'm just saying," he continues with a smirk. "It's your birthday. You could at least pretend not to be dying on the inside."

"How about I pretend not to hex you under the table instead?" I shoot back.

Blaise chuckles beside him, shaking his head as he stabs his fork into a pile of eggs.

"Well she'll have plenty enough time to pep up before the party tonight," Blaise says before shoving his fork into his mouth.

My stomach drops, pausing mid sip.

"Blaise!" Pansy scolds. "It was supposed to be a surprise!"

"The what?" I ask, my voice dropping.

Pansy lets out a huff, flicking her hair back before leaning over, resting her elbows against the table.

"Well, it was supposed to be a surprise," she says, shooting Blaise a glare before returning her gaze back towards me. "But... we put together a party for you in the Slytherin common room tonight. It'll be fun! Drinks, music, cake, and loads of people to celebrate."

I blink at her for a moment, parting my lips slightly, but I can't quite find the words. My gaze shifts between Blaise and Pansy.

Theo clears his throat gently, drawing my attention. His expression is calm, but his eyes tell it all.

"You don't have to come if you don't feel like it, of course," Theo cuts in.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my grip tightening around the mug in my hands.

"No, it's fine," I reply, putting on a small smile. "It sounds like fun, thanks guys. You really didn't have to."

Pansy beams, her lips curling into an excited smile, while Blaise shrugs like he did nothing wrong and Draco mutters something under his breath I didn't quite catch. I let it all roll off my back, taking another sip of coffee and willing myself not to fall apart.

The bell rings far too soon, the sound echoing through the Great Hall as students gather their belongings, getting in a few last bites of food before heading off to class. I rise with them, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

Pansy links her arm with mine as we walk to potions, listening to her as she goes on and on about this dreadful party. I try to pay attention, but my mind drifts off elsewhere.

The corridors are buzzing as usual, students filing into classrooms or loitering in groups near the doors. I stand beside Pansy, nodding absentmindedly as she rattles off the guest list, as if I care which Slytherins might show up to pretend they know me well enough to celebrate.

Mattheo catches my eye ahead, standing just outside of potions, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His gaze flickers from me to Pansy. His eyes linger a beat too long on me before he pushes himself off the wall, heading inside the classroom.

His presence hits me like a brick to the chest. I hadn't told him anything about today, and frankly, I'd like to keep it that way.

We file into the classroom, I take my usual seat next to Mattheo as Pansy takes hers next to Crabbe.

Mattheo doesn't say anything as I slide into the seat beside him. His hand rests on the desk, tapping a slow, rhythmic beat with his fingers. It was a subconscious habit of his I had noticed happens when he's thinking too hard.

I feel his eyes shift toward me, but I keep mine fixed on the front of the room, pretending to rummage through my bag for supplies I don't need.

"Morning," he murmurs, his other hand brushing against my outer thigh.

"Morning," I say quietly in return, giving him a small glance before returning my attention to Snape, whom had just begun our lesson.

The tension hangs in the air around us, whether he feels it as well or not. The unspoken secret I'm gripping onto so tightly it starts to hurt. I don't want his pity. I don't want anyone's pity.

Snape's voice drones on, low and emotionless, but I barely register a word. Something about scarab beetles and brewing temperatures. I grip my quill in my hand, though it has yet to touch the parchment.

Mattheo stays quiet, but his fingers keep tapping, the beat ringing in my ears. I can feel him subtly glancing at me through the corner of his eye, as if he can sense that something isn't right. He shifts beside me, his knee deliberately brushing against mine under the table.

My fingers finally meet the parchment, scribbling down a few messy notes that I'll likely never read. I hear my name once, Snape calling on me to answer a question, but Mattheo beats me to it, answering in a lazy drawl before I can really register.

The hour stretches on. Potions always feels long, but today it's unbearable.

When Snape finally dismisses the class, I shoot up from my stool a little too quickly, my chair scraping against the stone floor. Mattheo's eyes follow me as I shove my things into my bag with clumsy urgency.

"Amora—" he starts, his voice low.

"I'll see you later," I say abruptly.

I didn't want to seem rude, but I just couldn't do this right now. And I didn't trust myself to speak more than that, especially around him. One look into those dark, sparkling eyes and I'd probably spill everything I've been keeping inside.

I feel his gaze burning into my back as I walk out of the classroom.

The corridor is cold, the air brushing against my cheeks like ice as students flood through the hallways. Theo quickly catches up, falling into step beside me.

He doesn't say anything at first, just walks beside me in silence. It was a comfortable quiet, the kind that only Theo can offer.

After a moment, he nudges my shoulder.

"Skip defense with me?" he speaks up.

"What?" I question, looking over at him with a raised brow.

He shoots me a small smirk, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Oh come on, Amora," he replies. "You hate this class, I hate this class. Plus it'll give you a chance to clear your head a bit."

My pace slows as I glance over at him.

"You make it hard to say no," I say, a bit of a playful tone in my voice.

Theo smiles before pulling a small bag out of his pocket.

"Oh, and I almost forgot the best part," he hands me the bag, containing a few pre-rolls. "Happy Birthday."

I smile, a genuine smile, for the first time today.

"You know me too well," I murmur, slipping the bag into my pocket before anyone could see.

"Unfortunately," he adds with a wink, nodding towards the castle doors. "Come on. I know a spot."

We manage to sneak out without any trouble, blending in with the groups of students navigating the halls. Theo leads me to a secluded area on the edge of Hogwarts' grounds, tucked away behind a cluster of old trees, overlooking the black lake.

We find a spot to sit under one of the trees, the light breeze brushing against my skin. It was that awkward time just between winter and spring, where the weather can't decide if it wants to be warm or cold.

Neither of us speak right away. Theo sits, back against the tree, stretching his long legs out in front of him. I sit beside him, pulling my knees against my chest. I could hear the soft ripples of the lake in the distance, the rustle of leaves, and the occasional bird call.

I pull one of the joints from the bag, lighting the end and taking a hit before passing it to Theo.

He takes it without a word, inhaling slowly before blowing out a steady stream of smoke. I watch as the smoke curls around the cool air.

Theo passes the joint back to me, his gaze fixed on the lake.

I place it between my lips, inhaling deeply as the smoke fills my lungs.

"He'd be proud of you, you know," Theo says softly, his eyes flickering towards me.

I pluck the joint from my lips, looking back at him as I exhale.

My chest tightens at his words, the sudden ache in my throat making it hard to swallow. I glance down at the grass beneath me, watching the blades sway gently in the breeze.

"I don't know about that," I murmur, though, my voice comes out smaller than I meant it to.

Theo shifts beside me, angling himself to face towards me.

"I do," he says, his voice firm and reassuring. "Your dad... he loved you more than anything, Amora. That man would've moved mountains for you."

A lump forms in my throat, and I look away, blinking rapidly to keep the burning in my eyes at bay. I take one small hit before passing the joint back to him.

"It just feels wrong," I whisper. "Like this day rolls around and people expect me to be happy and celebrate... but I can't. I don't want to."

Theo takes the joint, nodding slowly, understanding in ways no one else can. He doesn't rush to speak as he brings the joint back to his lips.

"This day only reminds me of everything I've lost," I continue, my hands fidgeting with the sleeves of my robes. "I feel like every bad thing that's ever happened leads back to March 15th."

Theo exhales, the smoke lingering in the air around us. I feel a little light headed, the effects of the joint gradually starting to hit me.

He lets the silence stretch for a moment, not comfortable... but respectful. His eyes stay fixed on the lake, but I know he's listening to every word.

"I get that," he says eventually. "I don't think days like this are meant to be easy. But it doesn't mean you're not allowed to still feel something good too."

I stare at him, my fingers pausing mid-fidget as his words settle. They don't make everything better, but it does make things feel a little less unbearable.

The joint burns low between his fingers as he passes it back. I take one last long hit, letting the smoke burn my lungs, holding it there before blowing it out.

I offer it back to Theo, watching as he does the same before stubbing the rest out on the damp grass beside us.

"You ever think about what he'd say if he was still here?" he asks gently.

A let out a sharp breath, partially a laugh and partially something else entirely.

"Yeah," I whisper. "Sometimes I imagine him telling me to stop being so dramatic... that I'm stronger than I think." I huff out another small laugh, biting the inside of my cheek. "He had this way of saying things that made you believe anything, even if it was bullshit."

Theo lets out a soft chuckle, the sound low and fond.

"Yeah... sounds like Charles," he mutters.

My chest tightens at the thought, a sense of warmth and ache blooming all at once. I blink at the sky, feeling tears begin to prick my eyes.

"I used to think that it would get easier as the years passed, but it doesn't," I say quietly. "It just feels more... distant. Like it just hides itself better."

Theo leans back, his eyes flickering towards me.

"Grief's funny like that," he replies. "It doesn't really ever go away, it just learns how to live beside you."

I nod slowly, my throat too tight to speak. The world feels quiet around us, I don't know if it was our surroundings or the fact that I was stoned.

I take a deep breath, dabbing under my eyes to conceal the tears that threatened to fall. I lean my head on his shoulder, listening to the faint sounds of the water moving with the wind, splashing against the shore.

For a moment, I allow myself to sit in it. The grief, the memories, the weight of it all pressed against my shoulders.

"Can we just stay here a while?" I whisper softly.

Theo shifts slightly, enough to rest his cheek on top of my head.

"As long as you want," he murmurs.

~~~

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my eyes scanning over the dress Pansy insisted I wear tonight. It's made of a beautiful black silk fabric, a halter neck style that is a looser fit, but still fitted enough to see the definition of my waist and hips.

I debate skipping the party, to stay in my dorm for the night or sneak off somewhere on my own. But Theo was right, just because this day was always filled with emotional turmoil, doesn't mean I can't find any good in it. Though, I'm not sure if I'm quite ready for that.

It's been a few hours since Theo and I smoked, so I'm pretty much stone cold sober. And right now, I could use a bottle of firewhiskey... or two.

I touch up my mascara and eyeliner, trying to draw attention away from my tired eyes. I spritz on my perfume as well. I think subconsciously I'm trying to stall for as long as I can.

Just then, a knock sounds at the door before it creaks open slightly.

Mattheo.

He steps inside quietly, shutting the door behind him. His eyes flick over me, slow and intense, before meeting mine in the mirror.

"Amora," he greets quietly.

I swallow hard, adjusting a piece of hair as I meet his gaze through the mirror.

"Mattheo," I answer.

He's still in his uniform pants, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, his tie loosened like he hadn't bothered to change. Typical. Somehow, he still looks like sin wrapped in silk.

He takes a step towards me, his reflection drawing closer until he's just behind me, his presence making my skin burn.

"You look..." his voice trails off, and he doesn't finish the sentence. Just exhales. "Fuck."

My lips twitch despite myself.

"Pansy's doing," I reply.

He nods slowly, raising his brows understandingly. After a moment, he speaks up again.

"You didn't tell me it was your birthday," he says, less of a question and more of a statement.

I let out a breath, holding his gaze in the mirror, my expression unreadable.

"Didn't think it mattered," I sigh.

"Of course it matters," Mattheo exhales as I can feel his frustration growing.

I turn around to face him, my arms crossed over my chest. Not out of defiance, but more to almost keep myself guarded.

"To who?" I ask.

"To me," he answers quickly, his jaw tensing.

His words hit me harder than I had expected.

I shift under his hard gaze, my arms tightening around myself.

"Well... you never asked," I mutter, trying to grasp onto some excuse to avoid talking about it.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his curls.

"I didn't think I had to. I figured if it was important, you would bloody tell me before I found out from some 5th year talking about your party in the corridor," he says.

"It's not important," I snap back, my voice coming out a little harsher than I intended. "Not to me."

"Don't give me that," he murmurs, lowering his eyes at me as he steps closer. "Merlin, Amora, you mean everything to me and you still think you have to keep shit like this to yourself?"

I blink at him, slightly stunned by the sheer force behind his words.

"You really don't get it, do you?" I whisper, my voice breaking just a little.

"Get what?" he asks, his brows furrowed.

I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek as my fingers dig into the fabric of my dress.

"You think I want to feel like this every year?" I ask, my voice just above a whisper. "You think I want to dread a day that everyone else gets to love? You think I don't want to tell you things, Mattheo?"

His eyes soften as he opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with a quiet, shaky breath.

"My father died on my birthday," I say, and this time, I look him straight in the eye. "When I was seven. Right downstairs, in our living room. One moment I was blowing out the candles on my cake, and the next he was screaming in pain and then he was just... gone."

Mattheo stills. Completely. Like even breathing would be disrespectful now.

"I don't celebrate it. I never have," I continue, my voice thinning with the weight of all the years I've never said this aloud. "Every year I wake up with this ache in my chest. Like something's missing. And every year that passes just feels like another year that I've missed out on knowing him."

He swears under his breath, his jaw twitching.

"Amora..." he trails off.

"And I didn't tell you because your father is the reason that my father is dead," I say, my eyes beginning to water. "And I know that that's not fair to put on you, and I'm not blaming you, but it still fucking hurts, Mattheo."

Mattheo doesn't speak. Not at first.

His jaw tightens, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His eyes flicker between mine, like he's trying to process the fragile truth I've just placed in front of him.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, voice rough and low. "I'm so fucking sorry."

I look away, blinking up at the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.

"It's not your fault. I don't blame you, Mattheo," I repeat. "I don't want you to pity me either."

Mattheo takes a small step closer, slow and hesitant, like he's afraid he'll say the wrong thing and I'll shatter right here in front of him.

"I don't pity you," he says firmly. "I care about you, Amora. There's a difference."

My breath catches in my throat, the silence around us screaming with all the words we don't know how to say.

"I know," I murmur, my eyes wandering off.

Mattheo gently grasps my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"I love you, Amora," he says. "And I want you to feel like you're able to tell me things like this. I want to be there for you."

I bite the inside of my cheek as I nod softly, trying my best not to start crying in front of him.

"I promise," I reply softly. "No more secrets."

Mattheo exhales, his eyes flickering between mine. He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

A soft knock on the dorm door breaks the moment.

"Amora?" Pansy's voice sounds from the other side of the door. "What's taking you so long?"

I let out a shaky breath, taking a step back enough to pull myself together.

"Coming," I call back reluctantly, my voice appearing calmer than I feel.

I glance at Mattheo, his eyes already back on me. For a moment, neither of us speak. Though the look in his eyes is louder than any words could be.

"Mattheo—" I begin, but he stops me.

"You should go," he cuts in. "I'll see you after. I have something I need to take care of."

I pause, my lips parting like I might protest or question him, but I don't.

"Okay," I whisper, the word barely audible.

I take a deep breath, glancing in the mirror one last time before opening the door to Pansy's impatient face.

"There you are," she says, grabbing my wrist with a grin. "Come on, birthday girl. You're missing your own party."

The door clicks shut behind me. To my luck, Pansy hadn't noticed Mattheo, who was waiting for her to leave to make a sly escape. Or maybe she was already too intoxicated to notice.

The hallway outside the dorm is buzzing with muffled music, the thudding base practically vibrating the stone walls. Candles flicker against emerald-green drapery, casting everything in a hazy, golden glow.

"You're going to love it," Pansy beams, dragging me around the corner. "I even convinced Blaise to help charm the ceiling."

I paint a small smile on my lips as Pansy pulls me along, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling growing in my stomach.

By the time we reach the common room, it's completely transformed. The ceiling was enchanted to mimic the night sky, glimmering stars trailing lazily across the dark expanse. Green and silver streamers decorated the walls and columns, as well as a charmed banner that hangs over the fireplace, the words 'Happy Birthday, Amora!' are written in a shimmering text.

As we stepped into the room, some eyes turned, some cheering or whistling, and some paid no mind at all. The room is packed, students everywhere with drinks in their hands, sprawled on the couches, or dancing along to the music.

"Come on, let's get you a drink," Pansy says, practically bouncing. "You need to loosen up."

I let her lead me through the crowd, offering brief smiles and tight thank-yous to people shouting "Happy Birthday!" as we pass. But it all feels distant. Like I'm watching it happen from outside my own body.

Pansy shoves a solo cup into my hands filled with something pink. I take a cautious sip, cringing slightly from the strong burn of vodka rolling down my throat. Merlin, did this girl add any mixer?

"Amora!"

I turn at the sound of Theo's voice.

Theo pushes through the crowd, a grin on his face and a bottle in his hand.

"There you are," he says, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Took you long enough to show up. I was about to start opening your presents for you."

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head slightly.

"Wouldn't put it past you," I shoot back, looking over at him.

Theo lifts the bottle in his hands, offering it towards me.

"Firewhisky? Or do you prefer whatever Pansy tried to murder you with?" he asks.

"She's already got me," I shrug, lifting the solo cup to show him.

Theo chuckles softly, then glances at me more seriously, his voice dropping just enough to cut through the noise.

"You alright?" he questions.

I nod, maybe a little too quickly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... a lot," I answer.

Theo studies me for a moment, his eyes narrowing like he doesn't quite believe me, but he doesn't push. He gives my shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"Well, if you want to get away from all this, you know where to find me," he replies.

I offer a small smile, grateful for him in a way I'll never have the right words for.

"Thanks, Theo," I say.

He taps his bottle against my cup with a soft clink, shooting me a small smile.

"Happy birthday, love. Try not to let it kill you."

~~~

MATTHEO'S POV

The door shuts behind her with a soft click, and for a moment, I just stand there. The echo of her voice still lingers in the air.

I run a hand down my face, exhaling slowly as I turn toward the wall. My fingers curl into a fist against the stone.

No more secrets.

She trusted me with something she's never told anyone. Not even Pansy. And fuck, it gutted me. Watching her crumble like that, knowing there's nothing I can do or say to change it or make it better. No way to erase that memory from her mind.

But I can do this.

The one thing I can do from here to protect her. Something I should have done a while ago.

I exit her dorm, slipping through the crowded common room, and walk through the abandoned corridors.

Ever step echoes louder than the last, like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. My jaw tightens, fists clenched in my pockets.

The conversation we had the week prior was still so fresh in my mind, weighing down on me since it happened. I can still see her face, the way her eyes darted away when she said his name. The way her voice cracked when she admitted what he did.

And it make my blood fucking boil.

Knowing it was Tom behind it all. Using Legilimency on her. Treating her like a pawn in his game that he could manipulate, dissect, and control.

And I fucking let it happen.

While I was too caught up on... other things, he sank his claws into her.

But not anymore. Not after tonight.

I reach the door to his office, the light was on so I know he's there.

I don't bother knocking.

The door swings open with a sharp creak, slamming against the stone wall behind it. The sudden noise cuts through the silence like a blade.

Tom looks up from his desk, completely unfazed, before glancing back down.

"Mattheo," he says smoothly. He sets his quill down, leaning back against his chair. "You're not the guest I was expecting this evening."

I step inside, shutting the door behind me as it slams against the door frame.

"Yeah?" I ask, lowering my eyes at him. "And who was it that you were expecting, brother?"

Tom doesn't answer right away. He merely studies me, the corner of his mouth twitching like he's amused.

"You were always so dramatic," he finally says. "Though I'll admit, your timing is impeccable."

I step forward, my shoulders tensing.

"Cut the shit. I'm not here to trade pleasantries," I reply, my voice laced with annoyance.

"Clearly," he leans forward, clasping his hands together on the desk. "So, to what do I owe the honor? Trouble in paradise?"

I clench my jaw, my anger quickly boiling over.

"Stay away from her." I say.

He pauses, his eyes burning into mine.

His lips slowly curl into a smile. A sharp grin that only I know what it really means.

"Ah," he hums, crossing his arms over his chest. "So this is about the girl."

His voice is full of mockery. Cold and smug. The way it always is when he knows he's hit a nerve.

"Don't act like you don't know what you're doing, Tom," I say, my voice low as my hands curl into fists at my side.

Tom lifts a brow, feigning curiosity.

"And what, exactly, did she tell you?" he asks.

I narrow my eyes, stepping closer until only the desk separates us.

"Enough," I snap. "I know you used Legilimency on her. I know you're forcing her into private tutoring. I know exactly what this is."

Tom leans back again, the picture of indifference.

"I didn't force her into anything," he says smoothly. "She agreed. Quite willingly, in fact."

I slam my palms against the desk, leaning over it as my self control starts to dwindle.

"Because she thought she didn't have a choice," I shoot back.

Tom shrugs, his expression unfazed.

"Maybe she didn't," he replies simply. "But that's life, little brother. Choices are an illusion for the weak."

I clench my jaw, my teeth gritting together.

"She's not your pawn," I snap.

His grin only widens.

"She already is," he says smugly.

I see red.

Before I even realize what I'm doing, I lunge forward.

I push the desk aside, the wood screeching against the stone floors as I grab Tom by the collar, slamming him against the book shelf behind him. He barely stumbles. The bastard doesn't even flinch, he just stares at me with that infuriating calm expression.

"You want to hit me?" Tom taunts, straightening his posture. "Go ahead, Mattheo. Let's see what all that rage gets you."

My fist connects with his jaw before he finishes speaking.

The crack echoes through the room, the sound far more satisfying that I would admit. But before I can pull back, he's already retaliating. His elbow drives into my ribs, and I stumble sideways, breath catching in my throat.

Then it's pure chaos.

We're in a blur of fists and fury, knocking into bookshelves, glass shattering. I slam him into the wall, forearm across his throat.

His hand clamps against my wrist, squeezing tight. I grit my teeth, pressure building in my arm, but I don't back down.

"You think this makes you strong?" Tom spits, his voice venomous. "You think she'll love you more for this?"

I press harder against his throat, breath ragged.

"This isn't about love," I hiss. "This is about you staying the hell away from her."

He narrows his eyes at me, and for once, I see something shift in them. Something dark and cold.

Tom shoves me off with a force that sends me crashing into the desk. Pain shoots through my shoulder as it hits the edge, but I barely register it. He attempts to hit me with a wandless spell, but I duck, dodging it just in time. The spell smashes into a glass on the desk, sending the shards flying. He always did like to show off.

"I warned you not to get attached," he says, his breath heavy. "She's made you weak, Mattheo."

I launch forward again, my fist colliding with his jaw again, blood blooming at his lip. I feel the impact deep in my knuckles.

"And I warned you what would happen if you touched her again," I snarl.

Tom wipes the blood from his lip, his tongue dragging across the crimson smear like he tastes it, like he enjoys it.

"You're pathetic," he mutters, voice low. "All that rage, all that fire, and for what? A girl who'll never truly be yours?"

I don't respond right away. I can't. Not without putting my fist through his face again. I force myself to take a breath, to think about this. He wants me to act out. He wants me to be reckless and unhinged.

"She isn't yours either," I growl. "And if you ever, ever, try to get inside her head again, I swear to fucking Merlin, I'll—"

"You'll what?" he cuts in sharply, stepping closer. His voice drops to a deadly whisper. "Hurt me? Kill me? You don't have it in you, Mattheo. You never did. You wear that anger like armor, but you're still soft underneath. Still that scared little boy who followed me around like a shadow."

My heart pounds in my chest, fury surging. I could kill him. Right here. Right now. And in this moment, I want to. But I know that's not how this ends, not really.

I step back instead, hands still clenched at my sides.

"That's where you're wrong, Tom," I say through gritted teeth. "And if you keep coming for her, I will make you bleed for it because I have no limits when it comes to her."

Tom lets out a small, humorless laugh, dark and bitter.

"You really think threats scare me?" he asks coldly.

"No," I say, jaw tight. "But losing will."

We stare each other down, the silence between us sharp enough to cut. I want to hit him again. Merlin, I want to rip him apart. But instead, I turn my back to him. Because walking away will hurt more than any blow. It tells him I'm not afraid. I'm not that boy he used to know.

I reach the door and pause with my hand on the knob, my voice low and final.

"Stay the fuck away from her, Tom. You're not the only one who knows how to destroy people."

Then I leave, slamming the door shut behind me with enough force that makes the walls shake.

And as I stalk down the corridor, blood still pumping, all I can think about is her.

Loving her, protecting her.

I don't think I could ever forgive myself if something happened to her. Not while I'm still breathing.

———

Chapter 31

"Life's not fair, angel. But you make it worth it."

~~~

March 31st, 1997

It's been about two weeks since my birthday. The party went on, but every minute that passed, I was just counting down the seconds until I could finally leave.

I met Mattheo at his dorm later that night. He had just gotten out of the shower, his hair still wet and his sweats hung low on his hips. We talked for a while. Though it was more of a trauma dump if I'm being honest. Then he just held me. His presence was comfort enough; his arms wrapped tightly around me, soothing me until I fell asleep.

And, to my surprise, there hasn't been a word from Tom. He hasn't said anything about me skipping our tutoring sessions. No weird glances. No strange comments. It's been radio silence.

Not that I'm complaining.

If anything, it's made it easier to pretend things are normal for once. At least on the surface. Though if anyone in this castle is good at reading beneath that surface, it's Pansy.

Which is exactly why I'm avoiding eye contact with her as we sit on the common room floor, textbooks open but long forgotten.

Pansy taps her quill against her knee, brows drawn together in thought. Once. Twice.

"Draco's being weird," she blurts out.

I glance up at her, slightly taken off guard.

"Isn't he always," I snicker.

She rolls her eyes, though there's no real malice behind it.

"No, I mean really weird," she says.

I set my quill down, giving her my full attention.

"Weird how?" I question.

She hesitates for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek.

"He's been very... short," Pansy replies, trying to find the right words. "He barely wants to talk, like he's been very quiet. And every time I try and bring it up to him, he gets so defensive and starts deflecting. I dunno."

I press my lips together, my eyes flickering between hers. They are full of worry.

I feel horrible. I know part of the reason Draco has been acting the way he has. I've been helping him keep a secret that would destroy Pansy. I hate it. But I don't have a choice.

"What do you think is going on?" I ask hesitantly.

Pansy shrugs, more casually than she feels.

"Could be anything with him," she says. "Maybe it's something with his father again. But it feels... different this time, you know?"

She looks down at her notebook, but I could tell she's not really paying attention to the words.

"I just—" she begins, before cutting herself off. "He tells me everything, you know? Always has. I thought we didn't keep things from each other."

I nod softly as I look over at her, biting down on the inside of my cheek as I struggle to find the right words.

I look away, feigning interest in the fire crackling behind her.

"I'm sure he has his reasons for keeping whatever it is from you," I say. "The best thing you can do is just be there for him."

Pansy exhales through her nose, the tension in her shoulders only slightly easing.

"Yeah," she says quietly, pouting her lips slightly. "But we both know I'm too nosy for that."

A small laugh escapes my lips.

She smiles faintly at the sound of my laugh, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'm serious," she says, nudging my leg with her foot. "I can't just sit around and pretend everything's fine when it's clearly not. You know how I get."

"I do," I admit with a soft smile, meeting her eyes again. "But sometimes, people need space to figure things out before they're ready to talk about it."

Pansy lets out a loud groan, slouching back against the cold walls of the common room.

"Merlin, since when did you get so emotionally mature?" she questions sarcastically.

I roll my eyes playfully at the remark.

"Since being an emotional wreck became a full-time job," I reply jokingly.

She chuckles, the sound a bit more genuine this time.

Pansy stares off for a moment, a brief silence falling over us as I watch the dancing flames in the fireplace.

"You don't think he's cheating, do you?" she blurts suddenly.

"What? No. No, Pans, I really don't," I answer quickly, meeting her gaze once again.

"Because you'd tell me if you knew something, right?" she asks. "Like if you knew there was someone else or if something happened—

I reach out for her hand, squeezing it gently.

"He's not cheating on you," I say firmly, hoping the guilt churning in my stomach doesn't reach my face. "I promise."

She lets out a breath, a brief wave of relief washing over her features.

Pansy nods slowly, eyes falling to our joined hands. Her thumb brushes lightly against mine before she pulls away, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her jumper.

"Okay," she says softly. "Maybe you're right, he just needs a little time."

She clears her throat and sits up straighter, the emotional weight of the conversation clearly starting to wear on her.

"But I will find out eventually," she adds with a smirk, trying to brighten up the mood a bit.

Merlin, I feel horrible.

I'm at an impasse. If I tell Pansy, Draco will tell Theo. And if Theo finds out about Mattheo and me, especially like that, I'll lose him completely. On the other hand, if Pansy finds out on her own, I'm not sure if she could forgive me for keeping that from her.

And the worst part? I hate lying to her. She deserves the truth, but so does Theo. And I'm caught between them both, dangling by a thread I'm not sure if I can hold on to.

I'm so fucked.

I don't say it out loud, but I feel it in my bones. Pansy's still seated beside me, close enough that our knees brush together as we attempt to study.

I close my textbook with a sigh, setting it beside me as I lean back, resting my head against the wall behind us.

"This is why we can't study together," I say, turning towards Pansy as my lips curl into a small smirk. "We get too distracted."

"Studying is overrated anyways," she sighs, slamming her book shut. "I'm going to bed before I start spiraling again. Don't stay up too late sneaking out to see your boyfriend."

She gets up from her spot on the carpet, hands smoothing out her skirt.

"Pansy!" I hiss, eyes darting around to make sure no one heard. "Keep your voice down—"

She grins mischievously, clearly unbothered by my panic.

"Relax, I'm joking. Sort of," she says.

I shoot her a warning look, and she just laughs, brushing her hair behind her ear as she turns away.

"Goodnight, Amora," she sings, a teasing tone in her voice as she heads towards the girls' dormitories.

I watch as she disappears down the hallway, my smile slowly fading from my lips. The fire crackles softly beside me, but its warmth does nothing for the cold in my chest.

It feels like I'm balancing spinning plates. Like one wrong move, and everything will come crashing down around me.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself as I rise to my feet and grab my book. I won't sleep tonight. Not with everything on my mind.

Instead, I slip out of the common room, the chill of the dungeons wrapping around me. I didn't care where I went, I just need to move. To take a second to breathe.

The castle is quiet at this time, cloaked in shadows. My feet take me towards the Astronomy Tower, as it has so many times before.

And sure enough, when I step out onto the stone platform, I'm alone. Well, for now that is.

I walk towards the edge, leaning against the railing as I look up at the night sky. The view never gets old. The castle gleaming in the moonlight, the beautiful hills in the background, the shimmering stars dancing across the sky.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs. Up here, everything feels quieter. As if time slows down while I find solace in the moon and sky.

I let my fingers run along the grooves of the railing, focusing on the sensation. I exhale slowly, opening my eyes again just as the wind picks up, sweeping through my hair.

"I knew I'd find you here."

The voice makes me jump slightly, though I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

Mattheo.

I glance over my shoulder to find him leaning in the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, his eyes on me like he'd been watching for longer than he was letting on.

He doesn't move at first. Just stands there, watching me with that unreadable look in his eyes. The one that always tells me that he sees more than he lets on.

"You following me now?" I ask softly, the corners of my mouth lifting just enough to hint at a smile, though I'm not sure I feel it.

Mattheo's lips form into a small smirk as he finally pushes himself off the door frame, taking a few steps closer.

"Something like that," he murmurs. "Or maybe I just know you a little too well."

"Or maybe," I say, turning around to face him fully. "You just don't know how to mind your own business."

He takes another step forward, smirk deepening.

"Where's the fun in that?" he teases, one hand grasping the railing as he leans against it. "You're far more interesting."

I shake my head, turning back towards the stars, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips.

"You're ridiculous," I mutter.

"And yet," he says, standing up straight as he brushes his shoulder against mine. "You keep ending up here with me."

A laugh slips out before I can stop it.

"That's because I like the view," I reply.

Mattheo raises a brow at me, his expression rather suggestive. I roll my eyes at him.

"The sky, Riddle. Not you," I add.

"Ouch," Mattheo clutches his chest dramtically. "You wound me."

I shake my head slightly, my back against the railing as my lips curl into a smile.

"Oh please," I scoff in a playful manner.

A comfortable silence falls over us for a moment. I let out a small sigh as I look over at him. I couldn't help it.

Mattheo pulls out a blunt from the pocket of his hoodie, holding it up like a peace offering.

"You wanna?" he asks, already fishing for a lighter.

I glance at the blunt, then back at him.

"What, are you trying to seduce me?" I question, half jokingly.

Mattheo grins as he sparks the lighter.

"Wouldn't need to try, angel," he answers.

I roll my eyes, snatching the joint from him, placing it between my lips as he leans in, cupping his hand around the flame. I inhale, letting the familiar burn settle in my chest.

"Thanks," I murmur, exhaling slowly as I hand it back to him. The smoke curls lazily into the air, vanishing into the stars.

We sit on the floor of the tower, passing the blunt back and forth in silence for a minute or two, the edge of the high starting to soften the chill in the air. It's quiet enough that I can hear the faint echo of the Black Lake below.

I glance over at him, a small smile playing on my lips as I admire the way the moonlight softens his sharp features, the way his messy dark curls fall just above his eyes. There was something so beautifully serene about this moment.

"Hey," I say softly, tapping his knee to get his attention.

He hums in response, glossy eyes meeting mine.

"Remember the night of my party? When you said you had something to take care of?" I pause for a moment, watching his reaction. "What was that about?"

Mattheo blinks, the joint paused halfway to his lips. His expression doesn't change right away, but I can see the flicker behind his eyes. He exhales through his nose, before taking one last drag before stubbing it out.

He leans back against the railing, his gaze flicking away from mine for the briefest moment before returning, sharper now.

"Just... handled something," he finally says.

My brows furrow, tilting my head slightly.

"That's vague," I push back, feigning for more than an indistinctive answer.

"It's meant to be," he replies quickly.

I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" I ask.

Mattheo's lips curl, not quite a smirk, but a rather smug expression.

"Depends," he says. "You plan on getting mad?"

"Depends," I shoot back, mirroring his tone.

His gaze lingers on me for a moment, as if debating whether it's worth the fight. Then, he clenches his jaw, shaking his head slightly as a few loose curls fall over his eyes.

"It's not something you need to worry about anymore," he mutters.

His words make my stomach twist into a knot.

"Not anymore," I repeat, my eyes searching his. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He exhales through his nose, his gaze never wavering.

"Exactly what you think it means," he answers, voice low.

It all made sense now. That was the night I was supposed to see Tom. That was also the night I opened up to Mattheo.

My intuition was practically screaming the answer, but I hoped it wasn't true.

Maybe it was the timing of everything, or perhaps the dried blood on his towels. But I knew something was up.

"You went to him," my heart sinks in my chest.

"I told you I'd handle it," he narrows his eyes at me.

I furrow my brows, my lips parting slightly. A strange mix of both frustration and relief wash over me.

"Mattheo, you can't just—"

"Amora," he cuts me off. "He used Legilimency on you. He's playing games with you. Did you honestly think I was going to let that slide?"

I take a deep breath.

Why is it always violence with this man?

"You could've gotten hurt, Mattheo," I say.

He lets out a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head.

"No, angel," he remarks. "He's the one who should be worried."

The way he says it makes my skin prickle. I should be furious. I should tell him he doesn't get to play executioner whenever someone crosses a line. But instead, all I can do is look at him, at the faint yellow bruises that litter his knuckles, at the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"You're insane," I mutter softly.

He smirks, leaning in closer.

"Then it's a good thing you like crazy," he replies.

I roll my eyes at him, somewhat annoyed and somewhat amused.

"It's not funny," I state.

His smirk softens, though the look of danger in his gaze doesn't fade.

"I'm not joking, Amora," he says. "I meant it when I said I'd protect you. I don't care who I have to hurt in the process."

I stare at him for a moment, my stomach turning.

Deep down, I know that his words aren't just a warning, they're a promise. The kind of promise that may, or may not, lead to bloodshed.

"That's not protecting me," I murmur. "You're just moving the target from my back to yours."

Mattheo just shrugs, like his life is something he can toss into the fire without a second thought.

"When are you going to understand?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. "I don't care. All I care about is keeping you safe."

I let out a sigh, pressing my lips into a fine line. I straighten my posture, pulling one knee up to my chest.

"Just... promise me one thing?" I ask.

His eyes soften, ever so slightly, the kind of shift only I can notice.

"Anything."

My fingers toy with the fabric of my sleeves before glancing up at him, his eyes piercing.

"Promise me you won't get hurt," I say.

He exhales slowly, leaning back against the railing, his jaw clenched.

"Amora..." my name slips from his lips like both a warning and a plea.

"I mean it, Mattheo," I say, my voice wavering despite my efforts. "I don't think I could live with myself if something happened to you on my behalf."

For a moment, he just watches me, like he's trying to decide whether to lie or argue.

"You know I can't do that," he murmurs.

The honesty in his voice hurts more than any refusal could.

Why does he have to be so stubborn?

"Why not?" I ask, though part of me already knows the answer.

"Because if it comes down to you or me, I'll choose myself every time," his eyes are fixed on mine, darkening as he speaks. "And if that means bleeding for you, then so be it."

My chest tightens, torn between slapping some sense into him and wanting to wrap him in my arms so he'll never have to make that choice.

"That's not fair," I say softly.

"Life's not fair, angel," he replies, a smirk tugging at his lips. "But you make it worth it."

I look away, my gaze tracing the shadows playing along the stone beneath us. The night air around us feels heavier now. Like there was still so much more to say.

As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. Life is not fair. But somehow, in the middle of all this chaos, he makes it all worth it.

I turn back to him, catching the faintest flicker of vulnerability behind that smirk. For a moment, the hard edges soften, and I wonder if he ever lets his guard down.

"I love you, Matt," I mutter. "No matter what."

His smirk widens, his eyes trailing over me for a moment.

"You're impossible," he says, voice low, almost tender.

I reach out, taking his hand in mine as I adjust my position, resting my head in his lap as my back lays against the cold stone floor of the tower.

His free hand drifts to my hair, threading through it mindlessly. The warmth of his touch seeps into me, chasing away the night’s chill.

"And don't you forget it," I hum.

I close my eyes at the warmth of his touch, the effects of the weed starting to really hit my head.

His thumb brushes over my knuckles, gentle and steady, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself breathe.

Maybe tomorrow will be chaos again. Maybe he’ll keep making choices that scare me.

But for now, I'll let myself live in this moment, sinking into his presence like it'll last forever.

———

Chapter 32

"Because you're the only person I've ever wanted to share it with."

~~~

April 5th, 1997

The Great Hall is buzzing with Friday morning chatter, sunlight spilling in through the enchanted ceiling in pale gold streaks, as today is the first proper nice day since the start of spring. The dreary cold of winter has finally gone, and flowers are beginning to bloom in its place. The scent of fresh toast and pumpkin juice hangs in the air, and for once, I woke up without that bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I slip onto the Slytherin bench next to Theo, stealing a slice of toast from his plate before he can protest.

"You're late," he mutters, pulling his plate closer as if that's going to stop me.

"Time is a social construct," I reply, a hint of sarcasm in my voice as I take a bite of the toast.

Pansy slides into the bench beside Blaise from across the table with a dramatic sigh, a small stack of books carefully balanced in her lap.

"Can we not fight before I've had my tea? It's unbecoming," she grumbles.

Without hesitation, she snatches the remaining toast off of Theo's plate. I let out a small laugh as I pour myself a fresh mug of coffee.

"Oi—" Theo starts, throwing his arms up in defeat.

"Ah," Pansy shoots Theo a pointed look. "What did I say."

Blaise shakes his head, leaning back slightly with lazy amusement.

"You two are exhausting before nine in the morning," he says.

"Don't act like you don't love us, Zabini," I shoot him a smirk.

Blaise rolls his eyes, stabbing his fork into a piece of his eggs as I take a sip from my mug.

"Debatable," he remarks before shoving the fork into his mouth.

Pansy's attention suddenly shifts towards the doors of the Great Hall, the faint smile on her lips faltering. I follow her gaze just in time to see Draco stride in, his skin pale and eyes tired, yet his uniform still perfectly tailored. His hair is slightly mussed, his jaw clenched tight. He doesn't do so much as glance in our direction, rather, his eyes are locked on something across the room.

Harry Potter.

He was talking to Katie Bell, who had just received her last treatment after being cursed back in December, at the front of the hall.

Potter turns around mid-sentence, his attention snapping towards Draco as Katie kept rambling about something to Harry.

Draco freezes for a brief second. Then, with a sharp inhale, his fingers tug at the knot in his tie, loosening it as if it's suddenly too tight before turning on his heels.

Without a word, he strides toward the doors.

Potter's eyes narrow. He mutters something to Katie, too low for me to hear from across the hall, and then he's moving too, following Draco with quick, determined steps.

"Oh Merlin," Blaise mutters as we all watch the scene unfold. "Here we go."

Pansy's lips are pressed into a thin line, eyes fixed on the now-empty doorway.

"Think Potter's finally going to get himself hexed into the hospital wing?" Theo hums, only half-jokingly.

"Just as I thought today would be a nice, peaceful day," I mutter under my breath.

I take a long sip of my coffee, the warmth doing nothing to settle the strange coil growing in my stomach.

Pansy's fingers tighten around her own mug, unable to tear her eyes from the empty space.

She exhales slowly, quietly excusing herself from the table without another word. Theo watches her leave, expression unreadable.

It makes me wonder if he knows what's going on with Draco as well. I mean I only know half of it, but I wonder if Theo knows the full story. On that note, I wonder if Blaise knows about any of this. To be fair, I wouldn't be shocked if he was clueless to any of it.

Blaise clears his throat loudly, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Well that was... something," he speaks up, taking a sip from his goblet.

A sigh escapes my lips, running a hand through my hair.

"At least it's not me acting weird this time," I joke, a bad attempt at trying to lighten the mood.

Theo hums, popping a grape into his mouth as we get back to the usual routine of breakfast, as if nothing had happened.

"You're right," Theo says. "You are pretty weird."

I roll my eyes, giving his shoulder a gentle shove.

"Oh shut it," I reply, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"Well, knowing Malfoy, this is all just an extension of him and Potter's six year long feud," Blaise muses.

Theo nods, biting into another grape.

"You'd think by now they would have tired each other out," he says.

I let out a small, amused laugh.

"Oh please," I mutter, taking another sip from my mug. "They're both too proud to back down."

Blaise smirks, setting his fork down next to his plate.

"Pride and stubbornness," he jokes. "lethal combination, especially with those two."

Theo chuckles, shaking his head as the bell rings, signaling the end of breakfast.

"Well," he says, gathering his bag. "Time to go watch Snape go off on some Gryffindors."

Blaise pushes back his bench with deliberate ease, adjusting the strap of his book bag.

"Always a highlight," he muses.

I follow suit, throwing my bag over my shoulder as we make our way out of the Great Hall.

"Well, it seems as if our little group is dwindling by the minute," I sigh.

The corridors are alive with chatter as we fall into step with the stream of students heading toward the dungeons. Whispers flow through the halls, speculations about the strange scene in the Great Hall just moments ago.

We reach the potions classroom, the familiar scent of herbs lingering in the air. To my surprise, Mattheo was already seated at our table. It wasn't exactly like him to be on time to class, let alone show up at all.

He was leaned back in his chair, one arm slung lazily over the backrest. His curls hung perfectly just above his eyes, tie slightly loosened around his neck.

"Look who decided to show up for once," I muse, setting my bag down next to my chair as I take my seat.

His eyes flicker up at mine as I take my seat, the darkness in them flickering with something sharp as a smirk tugs at his lips.

"Careful, witch," he drawls, voice low enough so no one else could hear. "You're starting to sound like you actually missed me."

I narrow my eyes at him, pulling my textbook out of my bag with an exaggerated slowness.

"Maybe I did," I whisper in return, a playful tone in my voice.

His smirk only grows, that infuriating grin taking over his features.

"Dangerous words, Sinclair," he murmurs, leaning just slightly closer, like he's daring me to say more.

"Good thing I like a little danger, Riddle," I reply quietly, flipping open my book without looking at him, though I can feel his gaze burning against my cheek.

Before he can answer, the low rumble of chatter fills the room. Students shuffle in, dropping into their seats, the scrape of chairs against stone echoing through the dungeon. But the front desk remains empty.

Five minutes pass. Then ten. No sign of Professor Snape.

I glance over at Theo, his chin resting against his palm as his fingers drum against the desk. Daphne, who was seated just behind him, couldn't tear her eyes away. I almost felt bad for the girl. Her little crush has been so obvious over the years. Well, obvious to everyone except Theo. Bloody moron.

"So..." one of the Gryffindor boys spoke up. "Does this mean we don't have class?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before a few people laughed, though the sound was uneasy.

"Please," Theo mutters. "Snape never cancels class. Ever."

"Maybe Potter finally pushed him over the edge," Blaise chimes in, earning a couple of snickers from the Slytherins nearby.

Still, there was a sort of unease lingering in the air. By the fifteen-minute mark, the entire class had dissolved into restless whispers.

"Well, you know what they say," Seamus Finnegan spoke up, standing up as he tosses his bag over his shoulder. "Once you hit the fifteen minute mark, you're free to go."

It didn't take much convincing for the rest of the students to follow suit.

The scraping of chairs grew louder as students began gathering their things. Bags were thrown around, books snapped shut, and the sound of shuffling filled the room as we all collectively decided that Snape's absence was a free pass.

"Idiots," Blaise mutters under his breath. "Just watch, second after we leave he's gonna stroll right through the door and fail us all."

I close my own book, turning towards him with a smile.

"You almost sound like you care," I shoot back.

"I don't," Blaise shrugs in return. "But I also don't fancy spending my weekend writing a ten-foot essay on the properties of aconite as punishment."

"Fair enough," I reply, sliding my book into my bag.

I watch as Blaise and Theo exit with the others.

Mattheo hadn't moved. He was still leaned back in his chair, arms casually folded over his chest. When I caught his eye, he arched a brow like he was waiting for me to make the first move.

"You staying?" I ask.

He tilts his head, that half-smile curving his lips.

"Depends," he muses. "You planning on ditching, angel?"

"Depends," I smirk in return, matching his expression. "Are you ditching with me?"

I swing my bag over my shoulder, holding onto the strap with one hand.

He rises slowly, the screech of the chair breaking up the low chatter in the corridor. His eyes never leave mine as he straightens, rolling his shoulders like he has all the time in the world.

"You make it hard to resist," he replies after a moment.

I roll my eyes in a playful manner, though the heat rising to my cheeks betray me.

"Come on then," I mutter, pushing past him towards the door before he can see my smile.

The halls of the dungeons were thinning out now, most of the class already on their way back to their common rooms. The castle felt strangely quiet in the emptiness.

Mattheo falls into step beside me, our shoulders briefly brushing together.

"So where exactly do you want to go?" I ask.

He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Anywhere but here," he answers, voice low.

"That's specific," I say sarcastically, peering over at him with a small smile.

He smirks at my tone, his shoulder brushing against mine once again.

"Fine," he says smoothly, eyes flickering to meet mine. "Lets skip the rest of the day. Go sneak off with me. Somewhere we're not meant to be."

I raise a skeptical brow at him.

"That narrows it down to about ninety-percent of the castle," I reply.

"Exactly," he mutters, that dangerous glint shining in his eyes. "Astronomy Tower. Hogsmeade. Forest. Take your pick, angel."

I stop in my tracks, looking at him in disbelief.

"The Forbidden Forest? Are you mad?" I question.

"Maybe," his grin widens. "But don't tell me the thought doesn't tempt you."

I cross my arms over my chest.

"It doesn't," I reply.

"Liar," his voice dips low, almost a whisper as he steps closer.

I can feel the heat of him, smell the faint trace of smoke and cedar clinging to his robes. If anyone had spotted us, it would all be over.

"Now why would I want to go into a dangerous forest and get murdered by some homicidal creature?" I press him.

His hand reaches out, his finger tracing my jawline as he tilts my head up to look at him. The soft touch leaves goosebumps in its trail.

"Thought you said you liked a little danger?" he says, cocking a brow at me.

His words are a taunt, and he knows it. My breath hitches, caught between irritation and the way my body betrays me every time he's this close.

"Well, there's a fine line between danger and suicide, Mattheo," I reply.

He lets out a low chuckle.

"That depends on who you're with," he counters, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw before he finally lets go.

I roll my eyes, unable to hide the smile growing on my lips. I think for a moment, debating my options.

Fuck it.

"Fine," I mutter, narrowing my eyes at him. "But if we get expelled or killed, I'm blaming you."

"That's my girl," he murmurs, satisfaction glittering in his dark eyes as he offers me his hand.

I shed off my bag, hiding it behind one of the large stone pillars to retrieve later. I slip my hand into his, his fingers curling tightly around mine.

"Don't look so nervous, Amora," he teases as we start walking through the empty corridors. "I'd never let anything happen to you."

"You're insane, you know that?" I reply, half jokingly.

His smirk widens, thumb brushing against the back of my hand as he picks up the pace a little bit, guiding me towards one of the hidden exits of the castle.

We slip through the halls like shadows, the echo of our footsteps swallowed by the stone. Every turn he makes is so purposeful, as if he had done this before.

When we reach the door tucked behind a tapestry of Merlin dueling a dragon, he pushes it open with ease, the hinges groaning in protest. A rush of fresh spring air meets us, cool against my skin, carrying the scent of earth and fresh pine.

"After you, angel," Mattheo says with a mock bow, his grin sharp and infuriatingly charming.

"Such a gentleman," I tease, brushing past him.

The grass crunches under my shoes, still a bit damp from the morning dew.

We cut across the wet lawn, the castle growing smaller in the distance behind us with every step. The spring air carries birdsong and the faint rustle of the Whomping Willow in the distance, its branches twitching restlessly.

It didn't take long for us to reach the forests' edge. When you think about it, it's really quite strange that they would build a school right next to a forest full of dangerous creatures.

"Still time to change your mind," Mattheo mutters, his voice having a teasing edge to it.

"And let you gloat about me being too scared?" I shoot him a look, giving his hand a small squeeze. "Not a chance."

Mattheo's smirk deepens, like my answer was exactly what he wanted to hear. Without another word, he pulls me forward, leading the way beneath the canopy.

There is a shift in the air. The sunlight fades into thin streaks through the leaves, the air much cooler, heavier with damp moss and the faint smell of dirt and grass. I can hear the soft trickle of water somewhere in the distance.

Every little snap of a twig has my nerves spiking, though Mattheo moves through the trees with confidence, as if he's done this a hundred times over. Then again, maybe he has.

"You come out here often?" I ask, my eyes fixed on the ground below as I take careful steps.

"Often enough," he answers, glancing briefly over his shoulder.

Well that's helpful.

"That's not exactly comforting," I grumble, ducking to avoid a low branch.

He lets out a small laugh from low in his throat, reaching back to steady me with a hand at my waist as I stumble over a root. His touch lingers for a moment longer.

"Relax, we're almost there," he says.

His words spark both frustration and curiosity in me.

"Almost where?" I ask, brushing a strand of hair from my face as I match his pace again.

"Don't ask so many questions and maybe you'll find out," he teases, looking back with a small smirk on his lips.

I roll my eyes at his comment.

The forest thickens, the trees closing in tighter around us. I can hear the distant flow of water much clearer now, steady and rhythmic.

Mattheo guides me up a slope, his hand tightening around mine as the ground grows uneven. His arm instinctively wraps around me as I almost slip on the overgrown moss, pulling me in against his chest.

My heart skips a beat, not just from the near fall, but from the proximity. No matter how long it's been, he still has such an effect on me.

"Careful," he murmurs.

When I tilt my head up, his eyes are already on me, dark and unreadable. His thumb brushes over the curve of my hip as I steady myself. He lets go after a moment, moving onward.

When we reach the top of the hill, the trees suddenly clear.

My breath catches in my throat.

Before us lies a wide stone outlook, jutting out past the line of trees. Beyond, the forest opens into a rushing river, the water flowing in from a nearby waterfall lined with rocks and stone. The river is lined with clusters of wildflowers, the sun reflecting off the water like shards of gold.

It is unlike anything I've ever seen.

It's beautiful, to say the least. Unexpectedly so.

"What is this place?" I ask as I take in my surroundings.

Mattheo doesn't answer right away. He walks a few steps closer to the stone's edge, his hands slipping into his pockets. The wind tugs at his dark hair, carrying with it the scent of the river spray.

Finally, he glances back at me.

"It's mine," he says simply.

"Yours?" I question, arching a brow at him.

He shrugs, his gaze wandering away for a brief moment as if trying to find the right words.

"I found it when I first came to Hogwarts," he admits, his eyes meeting mine once again. "No one wanders out this far. Too hidden, too easy to get lost. I would come here to clear my head... Guess you could say it's my escape."

My chest tightens. I understand more than I care to admit.

I had never been brave enough to venture out into the forest per say, but that's how I feel about the Astronomy Tower. Though, now it had become Mattheo and I's usual spot, but before, it was my escape from reality. A place to get away and clear my thoughts.

"And you brought me here," I say slowly. "Why?"

For a moment, I think he's not gonna answer. Or that he'll look at me with a smirk and give some half-serious remark. But then his eyes meet mine again, and this time there's no shield. Just a quiet intensity that makes my pulse quicken.

"Because you're the only person I've ever wanted to share it with," he whispers.

Vulnerability.

Something I rarely get to see with Mattheo, but Merlin, I love it when I do. It's the side of him that only I've gotten to see. The side that no one else knows exists.

My Mattheo.

I step closer to him, the sound of the waterfall filling the silence as I search his face. He doesn't look away. He lets me see him. The boy beneath all the rough edges.

"Mattheo..." I murmur, unsure of what else to say.

His jaw tightens, shifting his weight slightly like the vulnerability is burning him alive from the inside.

"Don't make me repeat it," he mutters lowly.

"It's beautiful," I reply. "Thank you."

He lets out a sigh, like a weight lifted off his shoulders.

The morning breeze flows through the air, sending a shiver down my spine. My eyes trail back towards the river, watching the water ripple and flow through it's bank.

Mattheo steps behind me, wrapping his arms are my waist, holding me tightly against him as we look out into the distance.

"I think I get it now," I whisper. "Why you like it out here so much."

His chin lowers slightly, brushing the side of my temple.

"Yeah?" he murmurs.

"Mhm," I hum in response. "It feels... untouchable. Like the weight of the world can't follow you here."

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against my shoulder.

"That's exactly the point," he replies.

I look out across the trees and flowers, enjoying the serenity of nature. Who knew such a dark, dangerous place could produce such beauty.

Time slips away much quicker than I'd like to admit. Mattheo and I had spent the morning in the forest... and all afternoon. We sat out there, talking, or laughing, or just basking in the peaceful silence. Being able to enjoy each other's company without fear of anyone seeing.

By the time the sun began to dip lower, streaks of gold and amber spilling through the trees and across the river's surface, I had realized how long we'd been out here. Hours gone by in what felt like minutes.

I lean back against him, stretched out between his legs, his arms loosely wrapped around me.

"We should probably head back soon," I murmur.

He hums faintly in return, acknowledging that fact, but having no actual conviction.

For a moment, neither of us moves. Like leaving would shatter the quiet spell before returning to the chaos of the castle.

"Mattheo," I whisper, my thumb brushing over his knuckles. "We can't stay here forever."

"I know," he sighs reluctantly.

Mattheo presses one last kiss to the top of my head before finally untangling himself from me.

He loosens his arms as I stand up, dusting away any dust on my skirt with my hands. Mattheo pushes to his feet after me.

The walk back to the castle was rather quiet. Not awkward or uncomfortable, just... full. Like the kind of silence where words just weren't needed. Our fingers are laced together, the outline of the castle growing larger in the horizon as we grew nearer.

The warmth of the forest fades with every step, the chill of the spring air kicking back in.

Mattheo's hand lingers in mine until we reach the stone steps. He squeezes once, firm, like a silent promise, before letting go.

"We should split," I sigh, glancing around at the courtyard where a few stragglers are crossing through. "That way no one gets suspicious."

If I had to guess, I'm assuming it's about dinner time. And Merlin, I was starving.

Mattheo nods, his jaw tight, though his eyes soften as they flicker over me.

"I love you, Amora," he says.

"I love you too, Matty," I reply, a small smile creeping onto my lips.

I hold his gaze for a moment, finding it difficult to look away. Alas, I force myself to turn around, heading towards the same entrance we had taken to leave the castle, as I still had to retrieve my book bag.

The castle walls swallow me whole the second I step inside, the dim corridors stripping away any previous warmth. My footsteps echo faintly through the dungeons as I try to remember which pillar I had abandoned my bag at.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I find my bag, quickly picking it up and slinging it over my shoulder.

"Out awfully late, Ms. Sinclair."

The voice cuts through the silence like a knife.

Cold. Unmistakable.

I freeze, every muscle in my body locking tight. Slowly, I turn toward the voice, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Professor Riddle steps out from the shadows between two pillars, his posture deceivingly relaxed and casual. His eyes tell a different story, fixed entirely on me.

"Professor," I manage. "I was just... retrieving my things."

He steps closer, the soft scrape of his shoes on stone sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet corridor.

"Don't insult me by lying, Ms. Sinclair," he says, his voice dangerously low. "You think I don't notice when one of my students skips class? Especially when she seems to disappear with my brother for the day?"

I stiffen, my stomach turning in knots.

He takes another step forward as I take a step back, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the proximity.

"I didn't feel well, Professor," I reply, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation as soon as I could. "Do you have an issue with sickness? As for your brother, he's his own person. Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Before I can take another step, he moves with unnerving precision, closing the distance. My back hits the cold stone wall with a soft thud, the weight of his presence pressing against me. I don't flinch, though my heart hammers in my chest.

"Careful, Amora," he murmurs, his face inches from mine. "You may think you're clever. But clever girls tend to forget that there's always someone watching from another angle."

His eyes, the same darkness contained in Mattheo's, bore into my soul. Though I don't want to give him the satisfaction of fear.

"Excuse me?" I scoff. "All I did was come down here to get my bag, not to be bombarded with psychological warfare by my fucking psycho professor."

He doesn't touch me, but the weight of his nearness feels worse than if he had.

His smirk only widens.

"You're bold, I'll give you that," he says, his voice sharp, almost an amused undertone. "But don't mistake my tolerance for inability. Because if I wanted to hurt you, Amora..." his gaze flicks deliberately down, then back to mine, "...I can assure you, you wouldn't be standing here right now."

My jaw tightens, though I refuse to look away.

"And yet here I am," I snap back. "You and I both know you need daddy's permission before doing anything."

My hands collide with his chest as I push him off of me.

He hardly budges, though his expression falters for the briefest flicker of a second. Seems like I finally found the nerve that makes Tom Riddle flinch. Then, slowly, he straightens, adjusting his jacket as though I were nothing more than an inconvenience.

"Mm," he hums, tilting his head slightly as his usual twisted amusement slides back into place. "Enjoy that false confidence while you can, Ms. Sinclair. It won't last forever."

He finally takes a step back, eyeing me one last time before turning around and disappearing back into the shadows of the dungeons.

I exhale shakily, realizing only now that I had been holding my breath.

For a moment, I just stand there, clutching the straps of my bag until my knuckles turn white. Tom's words linger in the air like smoke, curling into the corners of my mind no matter how much I try and shake them off.

Finally, I force myself to move, each step echoing louder than the last.

Why is it that I can never find a moment of peace is this castle?

———

Chapter 33

April 10th, 1997

"How is it that we only have a little over a month left of school?" Theo questions, his legs stretched out across my bed.

"Merlin, I'm counting down the days till I take my last exam," I reply, shutting the door on my wardrobe as I turn around to face him.

Theo smirks lazily, tilting his head back against the wall.

"Don't tell me you're already stressed about exams," he continues. "You're one of the few people in our year who manages to breeze through them without breaking a sweat."

I grab the nearest pillow, tossing it at him.

"That's because I don't spend all my time smoking week at the Black Lake," I shoot back.

He catches the pillow easily, hugging it against his chest with a cheeky grin plastered all over his face.

"It's called balance, Amora. You should try it sometime," he replies, a tone of sarcasm and sass laced in his voice.

I roll my eyes, quickly folding up the last blanket and setting it at the edge of my bed.

"Well besides that," I let out a small laugh. "I'm not stressed about exams already, I'm just excited for the term to be over."

Theo shifts on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as his eyes meet mine carefully.

"Trust me, I get it," he sighs. "It's been quite an... eventful year."

I take a seat on the edge of the bed, sitting across from him.

"Tell me about it," I murmur.

Theo's gaze lingers on me, something unreadable flickering behind his lazy smirk.

"So tell me then," he says, straightening his posture. "What are the big summer plans that have you so eager to get away?"

I let out a small sigh, thinking for a moment as I run a hand through my hair.

My immediate thought is potential plans with Mattheo. We've talked a few times about him staying at my family's estate over the summer. Or maybe traveling through Europe. I just don't want him to go home to his father over holiday. Not that I could tell Theo any of that.

"Honestly, I don't really have any," I reply, pressing my lips into a fine line before continuing. "Probably just spending time with my mother and Nan. And visiting you and Pans of course."

Theo narrows his eyes at me, clearly unconvinced.

"That's it?" he questions. "No big plans set for Amora Sinclair?"

A laugh escapes my lips as I shake my head.

"Nope, just another boring summer for me," I answer. "Well? What about you, Theodore? Any extravagant plans?"

Theo leans back against the wall again, his grin tilting a little crooked.

"Oh please," he scoffs playfully. "Extravagant is not the word I'd use. Father is probably gonna drag me back to Rome for a while, but other than that? Nothing."

"Drag you to Rome?" I raise a brow. "Merlin forbid you have to venture off to a beautiful city in Italy. You're starting to sound a bit pretentious. Spending too much time with Malfoy?"

He huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes at my sarcasm as he tosses the pillow in his arms aside.

"Oh you have no idea how insufferable my family can be," he replies. "Plus, Rome isn't that nice. I'd much rather be in Florence."

I nudge his legs gently with my arm.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to make a trip to Rome then," I say, hugging my knees against my chest. "You can give me a tour of the insufferable city."

His smirk widens.

"Deal."

Before I can fire back, the door swings open with a loud creak, Pansy pushing through with a tired expression.

"There you two are," she exclaims, her voice sharp yet amused. "I should've known you were hiding out in here, Theo. Honestly, do you ever leave Amora's bed?"

Theo crosses his arms over his chest, not missing a beat.

"Why would I? It's far more comfortable than yours," he shoots back.

Pansy scoffs, tossing her bag onto the floor before dramatically collapsing at the foot of my bed.

"Oh please, my bed is perfectly comfortable," she says, her gaze lazily flickering between us. "You just like being doted on by Amora."

"Can you blame me?" Theo smirks.

I roll my eyes at their bickering, hugging my knees tighter.

"You two act like I don't have a say in this arrangement," I chime in.

"Darling you never have a say when it comes to him," Pansy teases, nudging my leg with her foot. "He's like a stray dog, if you let him in once, he'll never want to leave."

Theo gasps dramatically, clutching at his chest.

"Ouch, Pans," he says.

"Well if you two are done with your bickering," I cut in, my eyes flickering between the two. "There's much more important matters to discuss."

Pansy raises a brow at me, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Like what?" she questions.

"Hm," I hum in response, pressing my lips together. "Like the common room party we're hosting this weekend."

Theo groans instantly, flopping backwards onto my pillows as though I've just sentenced him to death.

"Not again," he grumbles. "Last time we threw, I ended up blacking out so bad I accidentally stole Filch's cat."

Pansy stares blankly at him as I stifle a laugh with my hand.

"Bloody idiot," Pansy sighs, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Well maybe this time, don't finish an entire bottle of firewhiskey yourself," I laugh softly.

Theo tilts his head towards me, smirk still lingering on his lips.

"Well what's the point of a party if you don't make questionable life choices?" he asks.

I grab the same pillow from before, tossing it at him jokingly. He dodges the pillow, sending it flying in the other direction.

"The point," I say firmly, though the smile on my lips betrays me. "Is to have fun without stealing anyone's pets."

"Got it..." Theo nods slowly. "Does this mean I'm banned from going to the kitchens when I'm drunk too?"

"You should be banned from existing when you're drunk," Pansy sighs.

I let out a small laugh.

"Honestly, you should be banned from drinking at all after last time," I add.

"That's cruel," Theo replies, eyes wide in mock offense. "What kind of best friend are you?"

"The kind that's sick of taking care of your drunk ass," I smirk.

Theo sits up a bit, letting out a small scoff.

"Hey, lets not forget when my drunk ass beat up your ex boyfriend for cheating on you," he says. "Weren't so sick of me then, huh?"

My jaw falls open, Pansy snorts out a laugh. I playfully give his arm a slap, trying to fight off the amused smile tugging at my lips.

"Oh shove off," I reply.

"Aww, it's like a knight in drunken armor," Pansy teases.

Theo grins, clearly proud of himself.

"I'm going to bloody murder you both if you keep talking about it," I say, running a hand over my features.

Theo throws his hands up, accepting defeat.

"Fine, fine. I'll go to bed before I get strangled," he says, pushing himself off the bed with a lazy stretch.

I shake my head, laughing softly.

"Goodnight, Theodore," I reply.

"Go on, then," Pansy adds with a smirk. "Give the rest of us some peace."

Theo shoots me a wink as he heads toward the door.

"Try not to have too much fun without me," he calls over his shoulder, voice laced with amusement.

"I think we'll manage," I call back, rolling my eyes playfully.

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving just Pansy and me in the quiet room. We sit in silence for a moment before she turns towards me, stretched out lazily across the foot of the bed with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"You're going to go sneak off, aren't you?" she asks knowingly.

I bite the inside of my cheek gently, fighting off the urge to smile as I look away.

"Maybe..." I reply.

Pansy sits up a little, her elbows resting on her knees, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Just don't get caught, Amora," she warns, though her voice still holds a playful edge to it.

"You know I won't," I say, already rising to my feet.

I open my wardrobe, slipping on a sweatshirt before heading out.

"Love you, Pans," I call out to her.

She calls back in return, but I don't quite hear.

I slip out of the dormitory, careful to keep my footsteps soft against the stone floors. The castle feels so quiet at this hour, hushed in the way that makes every creak of the staircase feel ten times louder.

I manage to sneak out of the common room, creeping carefully through the halls as I head towards the Astronomy Tower.

Each step up the spiral stairs the air grew colder, biting at my skin through the thin fabric of my sweatshirt. My hands brush against the cool stone railing as I round the final staircase, my pulse thrumming with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

Mattheo's already there.

Almost every night, like clockwork, we slipped away to the Astronomy Tower. The only place where the world seemed to disappear and we could truly be alone.

He leans against the railing, cigarette dangling between his fingers as the glow of the moonlight paints sharp edges across his face. His expression is unreadable until his eyes flicker up to meet mine.

"Hey," I murmur softly, stepping onto the balcony, a small smile tugging at my lips. "You didn't have to wait out in the cold for me."

Mattheo doesn't answer right away, his dark eyes following me as I cross the balcony. His cigarette burns low between his fingers, the ember flaring briefly before he flicks the ash away.

"I don't mind the cold," he finally says, though there's no warmth to his voice.

There was something off about him, something I couldn't quite place. His expression is hard, no usual sarcastic remark or smirk. My smile falters slightly.

I step closer, wrapping my arms around myself to shield against the night air.

"You okay?" I ask cautiously.

His jaw works as he exhales smoke, eyes never leaving mine.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he questions, his voice low.

My brows knit together, confusion flickering across my face.

"Tell you what?" I ask.

Mattheo's gaze sharpens, cutting straight through me. He drops what's left of the cigarette, crushing it beneath shoe with deliberate slowness.

"Don't play dumb, Amora," he drawls. "About Tom."

My stomach twists, the cold air suddenly feeling harsher against my skin. My hands grip tightly around the railing.

"Mattheo, I—"

"You didn't think I'd find out?" he cuts me off, his words sharp. "Or did you just hope it wouldn't matter?"

Heat flushes my cheeks, defensive anger sparking under his accusations.

"I wasn't keeping anything from you!" I exclaim. "I didn't want to make things worse—"

"Worse?" he spits, stepping closer. "Do you even hear yourself right now? There's no version of this that isn't worse."

I cross my arms tightly over my chest.

"What was I supposed to do? He cornered me, Mattheo, I didn't have a choice!" I say.

"You had a choice to tell me," he snarls, his voice rough with anger. "But you didn't. Instead, I had to find out from him."

I shake my head at him, taking a shaky step closer.

"You're twisting this into something it wasn't. I can handle myself, Mattheo," I reply. "He only did this to get under your skin, you and I both know that."

"This isn't about handling yourself," he says, his hand raking through his hair. "It's about him. He doesn't do shit like this for no reason, Amora. I've already threatened him once, and he's clearly still after you."

Silence falls for a beat, broken only by the pounding of my heart. I can feel the weight of his fear and anger pressing down on me, but my own temper won't let me bend.

"You think I don't know that?" I say, my voice raising. "You think I don't know how dangerous he is? That's why I didn't tell you, Mattheo. I didn't want you spiraling over something I can handle on my own."

He lets out a bitter laugh.

"On your own," he repeats, shaking his head slightly. "Merlin, you're going to drive me mad. You don't get it, do you? My brother is not someone you can deal with on your own."

My nails dig into my palms, unfolding my arms.

"I don't need you to fight all my battles for me. I'm not that girl, I can't be," I reply calmly.

His jaw tightens, hands curling into fists by his sides.

"This is beyond fighting your own battles, Amora. This is about making sure he doesn't kill you. Do you think I want to be the one who has to keep pulling you out of the fire?" his voice drops, rough with something dangerously close to fear. "I don't. But if it's him, I have no choice. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants."

I take a step closer, my voice steady even though my chest is tight.

"And if I keep running to you every time something happens, he'll destroy you, Mattheo. How is that any better? Don't you get it?" I say, my eyes searching his. "That's why I didn't tell you. You can't keep throwing yourself at him just because of me."

His nostrils flare as he stares at me, like he wants to argue, to tear my reasoning apart, but all that comes out is a strained laugh, sharp and humorless.

"I don't care what happens to me!" he exclaims, voice cracking on the edge of something raw. "Merlin, Amora, you just don't understand. I can take every curse he throws at me. I can take every ounce of his fury. But you—" his voice falters, just for a second, before he hardens again. "I can't just stand here and watch him try to break you."

My breath hitches in my throat, though I don't back down.

Merlin, curse us both for being so stubborn.

"And what if you keep going after him until there's nothing left of you, huh? What then, Mattheo? Do you think I can just stand by and watch you destroy yourself for me?" I say, my brows drawn together.

His eyes flash, stormy and desperate.

"If it means you're safe, then yes. Every damn time," he says, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

I stare at him for a moment, a breath escaping my lips.

"That's not love, Mattheo, that's suicide," I reply, shaking my head. "And I won't be the reason you kill yourself for his games."

He takes a step closer, his chest nearly touching mine. I can feel the heat of his skin radiating off of him, the smell of cigarettes and cologne clouding my senses.

"Then tell me what I'm supposed to do, Amora," he mutters, desperation laced in his voice.

I swallow the lump in my throat. I reach out, my hand gently caressing his cheek, his jaw clenching beneath the light touch.

"You're supposed to trust me, Mattheo," I whisper, my heart beating quickly in my chest. "Trust that I know what I'm doing. Trust that I'm not some fragile thing that'll shatter the moment you're not standing in front of me."

His breath stutters against my fingertips, eyes flickering between rage and something far more dangerous. His jaw stays tense beneath my hand, like he's holding himself together by a thread.

"Trust you," he repeats, his voice rough and almost mocking. His hands twitches at his sides before one suddenly grabs my wrist, pressing my palm harder against his cheek. "You have no idea what you do to me, Amora."

Before I can answer, he crashes his mouth against mine.

The kiss is far from gentle, it's firey, full of desperation and pent up emotions, as if he's trying to prove something. A sound escapes my throat, half gasp, half groan, and my hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

The railing digs into my back as he presses me against it, his grip on my waist is tight, as if afraid I'll vanish if he let go. His lips move against mine with bruising intensity, breath hot and ragged.

My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging sharply, and he groans against my mouth, the sound low and guttural.

"Mattheo—" I whisper against his lips when we finally pull back to take a breath, but he doesn't let me finish.

His hand cradles the back of my neck, forehead resting against mine. Our chests rise and fall with synced breaths, his eyes burning into mine like I'm the only thing tethering him to this earth.

"You drive me insane," he mutters, voice raw, almost breaking. "I hate that I can't stop, that I'd bleed myself dry if it meant keeping him away from you. But I don't know how to love you any other way, Amora."

My heart twists painfully, but I drag him back down to me, pressing my mouth to his with equal intensity. The kiss softens, just slightly, still burning with passion and desperation, but deep down, there's something so raw about it, almost fragile.

His grip loosens on my waist, no longer bruising, and instead his thumb brushes against my hip in a way that feels more like a plea than a claim. My fingers trail down from his hair to his jaw, holding him there as if reminding him I'm not going anywhere.

When we part again, he rests his forehead against mine, breath unsteady.

"You'll be the death of me..." he whispers like a prayer.

I shake my head faintly, brushing my lips over his once more, gentler this time.

"No, Mattheo," I murmur, voice barely audible. "I want to be the reason you live."

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The only sound is the ragged rhythm of our breathing, tangled together in the cold night air. His hands are still on me, trembling slightly.

His eyes search mine, his gaze growing glossy in the moonlight. My thumb strokes over the sharp line of his jaw, trying to soothe the storm raging inside him.

"I'll try," he mutters finally. "I swear to you, I'll try."

I close my eyes, tears burning at the corners, and rest my hand over his heart, feeling its wild, unsteady rhythm beneath my palm.

"That's all I've ever wanted from you," I sigh softly.

His grip eases, and for the first time tonight, I feel his muscles relax under my touch as his hand slips down to lace with mine.

Maybe it's reckless, or maybe we're both too foolish, but nothing in my life has ever felt so right.

———