3. ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ

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I stare at Mattheo, and slowly come to the conclusion that he must have been following me from some point- I didn't exactly see him leave the Great Hall with my own eyes, he could have very well been listening in on my whole conversation with the trio from the start. Judging from his expression, he definitely heard enough to know that I've come to friendly terms with the boy who felled his father the first time around.

"Having fun?" Mattheo hisses, one arm pressing against my shoulders to keep me in place, the other resting on the wall beside my head. "Making new friends?" He sneers at my lack of an answer, then says, "You'll want to be careful what company you keep, love. Acquaint yourself with the wrong sorts, and I won't be pleased at all."

"Exactly what gave you the impression that I give a fuck about what pleases you?"

He leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear. "Must I remind you who I am? My father may be far from having any parental qualities, but I assure you, he won't take it lightly if he hears that a certain Malfoy has been acting like an insolent little bitch to his one and only heir."

"Wow, using daddy's name to get what you want- What a way to assert your dominance," I snort, the words spilling out of me before I realize that it might not be the best idea to be angering a Riddle in such a dark place with not a single witness in sight. My hand inches closer to the wand in my pocket, but Mattheo immediately takes notice. Pinning my wrist above my head, he takes another step forward.

"Don't you understand, Malfoy?" he asks in a pleading tone, then cracks a smile. "I could tell you to do whatever I want you to, and you would have to do it. I own you."

My chest rises and falls rapidly. His wicked grin grows wider the faster the pace of my breathing gets.

And then I stop. Put on a smirk of my own. "Kinky," I smile into his ear, and as I lean forward, reach my hand into his pockets and pull away with his own wand leveled at his face. I truly can't tell what shocks him more- The fact that I disarmed him, or that unexpected comment of mine that I just had to make.

"You're dead, Malfoy-"

"Really? Because out of the two of us, I'm the one with the wands," I twirl my own wand between my fingers, my other hand free now that Mattheo has stepped away. He eyes both wands warily, stumbles away until his back hits the opposite wall.

"Funny how quickly the tables can turn, no?" I grin at him. "Oh relax, Riddle. I'm not going to do anything. Only hold this moment over your head for as long as we both live, constantly reminding you of the fact that I managed to disarm you with nothing but my wits and my good looks." I balance his wand out on my hand. It fits rather perfectly, actually, almost feels as good as my own. I toss it onto the steps, where it comes to a halt by my feet.

"Pick it up," I say immediately, for this is a game I've played many times before. Of course his natural reaction would be to pick it up, but now that I've told him to do so, made it sound like an order, doing so would mean obeying my command. And the fact that Mattheo Riddle seems exactly like one of those people who would refuse to let their pride take a hit, no matter the consequences- Well, that makes it all the more entertaining to watch the internal struggle play out on his face.

Eventually, he bends down. Picks up his wand, lets the tip drag against the stone steps, causing sparks to fly out. "You're a strange girl, Y/n Malfoy," he murmurs.

"I've heard worse," I shrug, then do the stupid thing and turn my back on him to make my way down the stairs.

"That strangeness is going to get you killed one day," he calls after me.

"Nice to hear you care."

"I don't. That was a threat."

"Not a very good one, then."

"Malfoy," he calls, one last time. "Never did get an answer to my question, you know. How come your brother's never mentioned you- Not once, in all the years we've attended Hogwarts?"

I twirl around. Let my arms swing back and forth at my sides. "Maybe he just doesn't like me," I say half-heartedly. "Or maybe it has something to do with all those people I killed."

"What?" he blurts out, but by then, I'm already skipping down the stone corridors, slipping into the Slytherin Common Room. Mattheo is chasing after me, but I slam the portrait door in his face, buying myself some time. Maintaining my leisurely pace, I skip all the way over to my assigned dormitory room, slip in through the door, and collapse onto the only empty bed for some well deserved rest.

It's thanks to years of practice of shutting my thoughts out that I'm able to sleep soundly- While the ghostly moans of the dead do make their way into my dreams, they only linger in the shadows, never gaining enough strength to fully shock me awake.

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