𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬 // enemies w/ benefits (M.T.R. x Reader)

12. To Start A War

Mattheo's Pov

"You're absolutely smitten, you are," Blaise smirks at him knowingly. "Do you go to Madam Puddifoot's together, now? Hold hands in public and give each other chocolates and everything?"

"You should serenade her from the bottom of Ravenclaw Tower," Enzo chimes in. "Bet she'd love that."

"Idiots," Mattheo rolls his eyes, but he's grinning all the while. "Getting back to the matter at hand," he says, kicking his feet off the bed and turning to Blaise, "Why hasn't Malfoy shown up yet? I thought you said he'd be here."

"There may be a chance he's off impressing a bunch of fifth year girls with that stupid Firebolt of his," Blaise admits. "Bloody wanker. There's nothing wrong with his Nimbus. Can't believe his mother got him a new one just because he asked for it."

"These are good times for the Malfoys," Enzo remarks. "I mean sure, Lucius is stuck in Azkaban right now, but we all know what rank he'll be holding in the new order. And what better way to celebrate it than show off their wealth and power to the rest of the world?"

It's another five minutes later that Malfoy finally returns to the room. Just as predicted, he walks in with his Firebolt tucked safely beneath his arm. He's followed closely by Nott, who comes with a smoking cigarette in hand.

"Riddle? Berkshire?" Malfoy scowls. "What are you two doing in our room? Blaise, I thought I told you not to invite them in here," he says, plopping down on his bed and shoving Mattheo's feet out of the way.

"Apparently Mattheo has some urgent business he has to discuss with you," Blaise replies. He snatches the cigarette from Nott's fingers, takes a drag, then bursts into a fit of coughs. "That is not tobacco," Blaise hacks out, and the only reaction that Nott gives in response is a wickedly amused smirk.

"Those calculations that I asked for," Mattheo gives Malfoy a hard shove with the point of his shoes. "Have you done them yet? It's been weeks already."

"A thank you in advance would be nice," Malfoy snaps. "Merlin, you're so impatient. You think advanced runic calculations are something that can be done in a day? I'll have them for you by this weekend, relax."

"What's this?" Blaise looks over, clearly intrigued. "So on top of being Mattheo's little lapdog, you're doing his homework for him now, too?"

"Very funny," Malfoy drawls, then nearly skewers Blaise with a violent brandishing of his Firebolt. "It's just a side project that Riddle's begged me to help him with."

"A side project?"

"None of your business, Zabini. It's confidential stuff." Malfoy puffs out his chest as though he expects a medal for his existence. "Meant for trusted ears only."

"Ah. So, Death Eater stuff, then?"

"Then how come we know nothing about this?" Berkshire frowns, gesturing to Nott and himself.

"It's nothing important," Mattheo waves him off. "Malfoy, you'd better make sure you get the calculations correct. I'm not casting the spell only to find out at the last minute it doesn't work."

"Please. I received top marks in both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy last year. This'll be child's play for me."

"Not true, though," Enzo hums. "Granger outranked you in both those subjects. Same as she's been doing for every exam since first year."

Malfoy whirls on Enzo furiously. "You'll take every opportunity to bring up the Mudblood in front of me, won't you?"

"Don't call her that, Draco," Theo drawls from the quiet little corner he's found for himself. Everyone waits for the punchline that they all expect to come, a remark about Granger's blood status or the company she keeps.