Chapter 19 Gryffindor Jealousy
Breakfast in the Great Hall was usually Liora’s favourite part of the day—warm light through enchanted windows, the smell of toast and pumpkin juice, the flutter of owls delivering mail. It was the one place where she felt like she could blend in, quiet and unnoticed, just another student among hundreds.
Not today.
Not when she walked into the hall with her notes clutched to her chest and the lingering memory of Mattheo’s voice still humming in her ears.
Not when half the Gryffindor table seemed to swivel toward her the moment she approached.
Sera had saved her a seat near the end of the table, waving her over. But Liora barely made it five steps before a tall Gryffindor boy—Calen Wilde, one of the Chasers and notoriously nosy—leaned forward with a grin that instantly made her stomach drop.
“Well, well,” Calen said loudly enough for several first-years to jump. “If it isn’t our resident Slytherin scholar.”
Liora froze. “I… what?”
“Oh, come on,” Calen laughed. “Everyone saw you slipping out of the dungeons last night. Studying, was it?” He waggled his brows. “Or studying someone?”
Liora’s face went hot. “It wasn’t like that. I just needed help with a charm.”
“From him, though?” chimed in Tessa Macmillan, a Gryffindor prefect who was usually kind—but right now wore a smirk that felt designed to sting. “Bit odd, isn’t it? Mattheo Riddle doesn’t exactly tutor people.”
“I didn’t ask him to tutor me,” Liora said quickly. “I just—he was nearby and—”
“And you just happened to end up in a corner with him. Alone,” Calen cut in. “Right.”
The teasing wasn’t cruel, exactly. But it was relentless.
“Did he make you sign something?” another boy joked. “Swear loyalty? Vow to stop doing your homework on time?”
“I hear he eats students who mispronounce incantations,” someone added.
Liora felt like she was shrinking, her shoulders tightening as she tried to slip past, but Calen shifted in front of her again, blocking her path.
“Come on, Liora. Just tell us—why him?”
“Because he helped me,” she snapped before she could stop herself.
It was the wrong thing to say.
“Ooooh,” a group of Gryffindors chorused. “He helped her.”
Calen leaned in, elbows on knees. “I’m sure he did.”
Liora stiffened. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, we know what you meant,” Tessa said lightly. “But you know how he is. He’s not exactly… approachable. Or trustworthy.”
“That’s not fair,” Liora said, heat crawling up her neck. “He’s not—he wasn’t being—”
She didn’t know how to finish the sentence. She barely understood him herself.
But she knew the look Mattheo had given her last night. The softness beneath his sharp edges. The unexpected patience. The way he listened. The way he watched her, like he saw through her without intending to hurt her.
She didn’t want these people turning that into something ugly.
Sera, finally catching on to the commotion, pushed through the group.
“Alright, alright,” she said sharply. “Enough. She studied with him. She’s alive. End of story.”
The Gryffindors scattered—reluctantly, but they did—except Calen, who gave Liora one last knowing grin.
“Just be careful,” he said, not unkindly. “Riddle’s got teeth.”
Then he sauntered off.
Sera linked her arm with Liora’s immediately. “Ignore them.”
Liora sank into her seat, cheeks burning.
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” she whispered.
“I know.” Sera reached for a muffin and plopped it onto Liora’s plate. “But Gryffindors love drama. And a quiet girl studying with a notorious Slytherin? That’s practically a front-page headline.”
Liora groaned and dropped her head onto her folded arms.
“I want to disappear.”
“Nope,” Sera said cheerfully. “You need food. Then you need to tell me exactly how it happened.”
Liora lifted her head slightly. “You were the one who suggested I ask him!”
“I know.” Sera grinned unapologetically. “But I didn’t expect you to actually… you know… meet alone in some mysterious study nook like you’re in a forbidden romance novel.”
Liora swatted her shoulder with her napkin.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Sure,” Sera said with a deliberately dramatic sigh. “Just wait until the rumours start.”
Liora felt faint. “Rumours?”
“Oh, definitely.” Sera shrugged. “Gryffindors talk too much. Slytherins hoard secrets. Combine the two and the castle practically combusts.”
Liora put her face in her hands again.
But Sera kept talking, oblivious.
“And you know Mattheo isn’t exactly subtle—”
“Sera, please.”
“Okay, okay.” Sera raised her hands. “I’ll stop.”
But she didn’t need to keep going.
Because everything fell silent on its own—
—as every head near them turned slightly to the right.
Liora didn’t notice at first, too focused on her muffin, but Sera’s eyes widened slightly.
“Oh,” Sera whispered. “Speak of the serpent.”
Liora looked up.
Mattheo stood at the entrance of the Great Hall, expression unreadable, scanning the tables. A few Slytherins were with him, but they walked ahead as he slowed, gaze sliding over the Gryffindor side.
To her.
His eyes locked with hers instantly.
Her stomach dropped.
He didn’t smirk. He didn’t frown. He didn’t acknowledge her in any clear way.
But something dark flickered behind his eyes—something sharp, simmering, aware.
Liora swallowed hard.
Sera leaned in. “I think he’s noticed the circus.”
Mattheo continued toward the Slytherin table—but his gaze drifted, just slightly, to where Calen sat laughing with a few Chasers.
It lasted half a second.
Half a second was enough.
Because Mattheo’s expression shifted—not visibly, not overtly, but in that dangerous, quiet way that made him so difficult to read. The faintest narrowing of his eyes. A tension in his jaw. A cold glint like steel catching the light.
Subtle.
Silent.
Warning.
Liora felt the air tighten around her.
Calen glanced up—felt the look, no doubt—and his laughter faltered.
Mattheo broke the gaze and continued walking, settling into his usual seat at the Slytherin table as if nothing had happened, rolling up his sleeves and reaching for toast.
But the shift had already happened.
The atmosphere crackled.
Calen looked away quickly, clearing his throat and suddenly becoming very interested in his plate.
Tessa whispered something that made two Gryffindors stare at Mattheo uneasily.
Sera raised her brows. “Well. That was… something.”
Liora’s pulse thundered. “He’s going to think I said something to them.”
“Did you?”
“No!”
But her voice shook.
And when she dared look again, Mattheo wasn’t watching Calen anymore.
He was watching her.
Not angrily.
Not warmly.
Just… intently.
As if assessing. Calculating. Wondering.
Then he looked down, resuming his breakfast.
Sera let out a low whistle. “He’s protective.”
“He’s not,” Liora said immediately. “He’s just—he didn’t like them teasing me.”
“That is being protective.”
“No, it’s—he just doesn’t like people talking about him.”
Sera smirked. “Then why glare at them instead of you?”
Liora opened her mouth. Closed it.
She had no answer.
Only racing thoughts.
Only the strange tension lingering in the air.
Only Mattheo’s unreadable expression burned behind her eyes.
“Sera,” she whispered, “I think I’m in trouble.”
Sera grinned. “Oh, absolutely. And honestly? I cannot wait to see what happens next.”