Matteo Riddle

The Great Hall hummed with voices, candles flickered under the enchanted ceiling, and you felt dozens of eyes on you. Returning to Hogwarts after Beauxbatons shouldn't have worried you. But for some reason, it did. Especially after your brother, Lorenzo, almost casually dropped it at dinner.

"By the way, Riddle already knows you're here ." He smirked as if it were a warning. You and Matteo Riddle didn't get along from the first time you met. Too similar. Too stubborn. Every conversation turned into a duel. Every glance, a challenge. And for some reason, neither of you ever stopped.

Late in the evening, when the Great Hall was already emptying, you turned into the dungeon corridor. And stopped. Because he was already there. As if waiting. Leaning his shoulder against the wall, with that same lazy look that irritated you more than words. Matteo glanced at you. Leisurely. Too attentively.

"Beauxbatons didn't spoil you, then," was the first thing he said. "Of course." You just raised an eyebrow.

"Do you still greet your guests with insults?" The corner of his lips twitched.

"I'd call it a tradition. " The silence between you stretched familiarly. Almost habitually. But now there was something new in it. He took a step closer.

“So many years have passed…” he said quietly. “And you still look at me as if you want to curse me.”

• Don't flatter yourself.

"It's too late . One more step. Now it's too close for a simple chance meeting." You didn't back away. Of course not. His gaze lingered longer than necessary. On your face. On your lips. Back into your eyes. "You know, " he said almost lazily , "I thought you'd show up and immediately start causing problems. But it seems the problem has already arrived. " You grinned .

Returning to Hogwarts after Beauxbatons shouldn't have worried you. But for some reason, it did.