Chapter 12 First Interaction
Liora didn’t mean to run into him.
In fact, she had purposely taken the long way from Charms back to Hufflepuff common room just to avoid the dungeons entirely, because after her impulsive nighttime wander and the unsettling-yet-intriguing gaze she’d felt on her skin, she’d decided that she needed space. Distance. A moment to breathe like a normal first-year.
But Hogwarts had other plans.
The castle tended to shift its hallways on whims, tightening routes or stretching staircases as if it enjoyed disrupting the flow of students. Liora turned a corner expecting to find a familiar torch-lit path—only to be met with cold stone, dim greenish light, and the eerie quiet that meant only one thing.
Slytherin territory.
She froze. Her heart stuttered.
“Oh—not again,” she whispered miserably.
She spun around to retreat, but the corridor behind her sealed off with a slide of stone, quiet as a sigh.
Trapped.
Of course she was.
Liora inhaled slowly, raised her chin, and whispered to herself, “It’s fine. Just walk. Pretend you belong.”
She didn’t. At all. But the pep talk helped.
The dungeons felt colder than last time—colder than anywhere else she’d been. The torches here burned green instead of orange, and the shadows swayed like they had minds of their own. She walked carefully, hands tucked into her sleeves, eyes fixed forward.
Then she heard footsteps.
Soft, deliberate ones.
Liora’s stride faltered. She tried to keep moving, but her pulse hammered so loudly in her ears she almost couldn’t hear anything else. A presence brushed the edge of her awareness—sharp, heavy, powerful in a way she didn’t understand.
And then—
He stepped out of the darkness like he’d been carved from it.
Mattheo Riddle.
His expression unreadable. His posture precise. His gaze razor-sharp and entirely too aware of her.
Liora’s breath caught.
He wasn’t supposed to be beautiful, but he was. Not soft or charming—his beauty was the dangerous sort, the kind whispered about in stories where the villain steals hearts without trying.
The kind that made Liora’s stomach twist in a feeling she didn’t have a name for.
He looked at her like she was a puzzle no one had solved.
A beat passed. Two. Three.
Then he finally spoke.
“You wander too much.”
His voice. Low, smooth, cool as the dungeon air, but laced with something else—something darker, something that prickled at her skin.
Liora blinked. “I—I didn’t mean to. Hogwarts keeps moving things around.”
He hummed lightly, as if he knew that already. His eyes never left her face.
“You shouldn’t be down here.”
A pause.
“…again.”
The word again shot straight into her chest.
“You—saw me last time?” she blurted before thinking.
His gaze sharpened. “Yes.”
Heat spread across her cheeks.
“Oh.”
Another long silence.
She shifted awkwardly, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. She couldn’t bring herself to look up for more than a second at a time. Something about him scrambled her thoughts in ways no professor or hallway or magical mishap ever had. He was just too—
Intense.
And quietly dangerous.
And confusing.
Mattheo tilted his head the slightest bit, studying her the way someone studies a curious magical creature.
“Why are you down here this time?” he asked.
“Hogwarts trapped me,” she said defensively. “The wall just—closed.”
One corner of his mouth moved. Not quite a smile—more like the ghost of a thought he didn’t plan on sharing.
“Hogwarts likes to test people.”
His gaze dipped briefly to her shoes, then back up.
“It seems to enjoy testing you.”
Liora swallowed. “Great. Perfect. Wonderful. I’m thrilled.”
His eyebrows lifted, barely. “Sarcasm.”
She nodded vigorously. “Yes. Very much.”
Something flickered in his expression, almost amusement, almost interest. But fleeting.
Before she could stop herself, the question tumbled out:
“Why were you in the Potions room the other day? When the cauldron—when things almost—”
Blew up.
She couldn’t finish it. The memory still made her stomach tighten: the bright flash, the panic, the fire flaring too fast, her wand slipping from her fingers. Then a sharp, cold wind extinguishing the explosion instantly. And she’d looked up to see—
Him.
Standing there like he’d been waiting.
Mattheo’s face shifted, subtle but noticeable. He didn’t look annoyed exactly—just… guarded.
“You’re careless,” he said instead of answering. “That potion was unstable. Slughorn should know better than to trust first-years with it.”
“That’s not an answer,” she whispered.
“No,” he agreed softly.
Her frustration flickered, but before she could build up the courage to challenge him again, he stepped closer.
Not enough to touch.
But enough for her to feel him—his magic, his presence, something cold and warm at the same time that rushed through her like a gust of shadow.
“I didn’t help you,” he said quietly.
Liora’s eyes widened. “You did—”
His gaze pinned her.
“You don’t know what I did.”
Her breath stalled.
His voice dropped even lower, a whisper wrapped in warning.
“And you don’t want to.”
The words were soft. But they hit hard.
Liora’s fingers curled into fists. Her heartbeat thundered.
“That’s not fair,” she said, surprising herself. “I deserve to know.”
“You don’t,” he said, unmoved. “Not yet.”
Yet.
The word lit something in her chest—curiosity, fear, hope, she couldn’t tell.
Mattheo stepped back then, the shadows seeming to fold around him like they were greeting an old friend.
“Go back to Hufflepuff, Liora.”
She blinked. “But the wall—”
Before she finished, the stone behind her groaned softly and slid open, revealing a warm, torch-lit hallway that definitely hadn’t been there seconds ago.
Mattheo’s eyes didn’t leave hers.
“Don’t come back.”
His voice wasn’t cold this time.
It was conflicted.
Maybe even strained.
Which confused her more than anything.
Liora took a slow step backward toward the open passage.
“Why?” she whispered.
His jaw tensed.
“Because some shadows notice you,” he said. “And they shouldn’t.”
A chill raced through her, not from fear—but from something deeper. Something that felt like a thread between them tightening.
Before she could speak again, the hallway behind her began to close.
She stepped through—
And the wall sealed shut.
He was gone.
But the echo of his final words stayed with her like a whispered spell she couldn’t undo.
Liora returns to Hufflepuff shaken, her heart racing with one impossible question—
If Mattheo didn’t help her during the potion accident… then what exactly did he do?