My real enemy / Mattheo Riddle

• WHAT BOUNDARIES •

"What's your problem?" I asked, keeping my voice low but firm.

"My problem?" he repeated, his voice tight. "Agnes, what the hell are you doing? Hanging out with them, especially him?"

I crossed my arms, mirroring his stance. "They're my fucking friends, Harry. I live with them. What do you want me to do? Avoid everyone?"

"I'm not talking about all of them," he snapped. "I'm talking about Mattheo Riddle. Do you even realize who he is? What his father's done?"

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "Yes, Harry. I'm well aware of who he is. I don't need you to remind me."

He ran a hand through his messy hair, his frustration evident. "Mum and Dad would be disappointed in you."

His words hit me like a slap across the face. My throat tightened, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe.

"That's low," I said, my voice trembling with barely contained anger. "Don't you dare bring them into this. You have no right."

"They're our parents, Agnes!" he shot back, his voice rising. "I'm trying to protect you—"

"Protect me?" I interrupted, my voice cutting through his. "From what? Living my life? Making my own choices? Newsflash Harry, you don't get to control me just because you think you're the noble one."

His face softened, regret flickering in his eyes, but the damage was done. I turned away, my vision blurred with tears I refused to let fall.

"You know what's ironic?" I said, my back to him. "You're so quick to judge Mattheo because of his father. But it was your father's rivalry with Voldemort that got our parents killed. So maybe think twice before you tell me who they'd be disappointed in." I didn't wait for his response. I stormed back toward the yard, my chest tight and my emotions a storm threatening to drown me.

When I re-entered the situation I just left, all eyes were on me. Mattheo was still leaning against the couch, his brow furrowed as he studied my face. Without a word, he shifted over, making space for me to sit next to him. I sank into the cushion, staring at the floor, my heart still racing.

"You good?" Mattheo asked quietly, his voice softer than I expected.

"Yeah," I lied, because what else could I say? But as I felt the warmth of his presence beside me, something in me began to settle. Maybe I wasn't fine. But for now, I wasn't alone, and that was enough for the moment.

_____________________________

The day had dragged on like a boring slow movie. After my encounter with Harry, I'd thrown myself into my classes, hoping the distraction would keep my thoughts from spiraling. It didn't work. By the time we got dismissed from our last class my nerves were bent, and all I wanted was to disappear into my dorm for some quiet. Instead, I found myself in Draco and Mattheo's room, helping Draco track down a book he insisted I had borrowed weeks ago.

"You swear it's not in your dorm?" Draco asked, rummaging through his desk.

"For the tenth time, no," I said, exasperated. "I haven't seen your precious potions journal, Draco. You probably left it in the library."

He shot me a glare. "I don't leave things lying around."

"Well, clearly you did this time," I shot back, crossing my arms as I leaned against the doorframe.

Mattheo was sprawled on his bed, flipping through a textbook. His dark eyes lifted to mine, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"You two argue like siblings," he muttered.