Chapter 42 Walls Unseen
The evening air was crisp as Liora wandered through the Hufflepuff grounds, her robes tugged tightly around her shoulders. The castle’s towers glimmered against the darkening sky, and the distant sound of students laughing near the lake reminded her that life at Hogwarts went on with its usual rhythm, even when the world felt overwhelming.
Liora’s thoughts had been spinning all day. Classes had been challenging, the teasing from Gryffindors earlier still echoed in her mind, and the unrelenting curiosity she felt about the hidden corners of the castle made her restless. She had tried to focus on her studies, on perfecting her charms and potion-making, but her mind kept returning to moments with Mattheo—the shared laughter, the near-touch in the alcove, the way he always seemed to watch over her without asking anything in return.
A faint rustle behind her made her pause. She instinctively turned, wand half-raised, and found Mattheo standing there, leaning casually against a tree. His dark eyes regarded her quietly, and for a moment, Liora felt that familiar tension—equal parts fascination and wariness—that always accompanied his presence.
“You’re out late,” he said softly, voice low enough that it didn’t carry across the grounds. “Wandering the castle grounds alone.”
“I… needed air,” she admitted, tucking her hands into her sleeves. “It’s been… a lot today.”
He stepped closer, but remained at a respectful distance, as though gauging whether she wanted company. “Hogwarts can be overwhelming,” he said quietly, eyes scanning the distant turrets and towers. “Even for those who have been here before.”
Liora nodded, grateful for the quiet understanding in his tone. “I… I feel like I’m always on edge. Like I have to be careful of everyone and everything,” she admitted. “I want to explore, to learn, to… understand everything. But every time I try, I feel like I’m doing something wrong—or someone is watching.”
Mattheo’s expression softened, a subtle shift that made Liora’s heart skip. “You’re not wrong,” he murmured. “There are people who will judge, who will try to control what you do. Hogwarts isn’t just about lessons and magic—it’s about navigating… the currents.”
“The currents?” she repeated, curiosity piqued despite the unease tightening her chest.
“The hidden flows,” he explained, stepping slightly closer, though still maintaining the faintest space between them. “Power, influence, alliances. Houses, reputations… even magical creatures. It all has its own rhythm. And sometimes, it can be dangerous if you’re naive.”
Liora swallowed, absorbing his words. “I… I know I’m naive. I know I trust too easily. But I don’t want to stop being curious. I don’t want to stop… caring about people.”
Mattheo’s gaze softened further, and he took a measured step closer, as if drawn by the vulnerability in her voice. “Curiosity is a strength,” he said quietly. “And caring… that’s something not many people in this world allow themselves to do. You shouldn’t see it as weakness. You… it’s part of what makes you… you.”
The sincerity in his voice made Liora’s chest tighten. She had expected teasing, indifference, or perhaps some cryptic warning—but not this quiet, protective honesty. It felt like a lifeline, something steady and warm against the whirlwind of Hogwarts’ chaos.
“I feel… like I’m so small here,” she admitted, looking down at her clasped hands. “Like there’s so much I don’t understand, and I’ll make mistakes… and people will notice. And I’ll disappoint… or get hurt.”
For a moment, Mattheo didn’t speak. He simply studied her, the way a careful chess player would consider their next move—measured, deliberate, and silent. Then he stepped closer, close enough that she could see the faint glint of concern in his eyes.
“You won’t,” he said quietly. “Not if you don’t let yourself be overwhelmed. And… if anyone tries to hurt you, I won’t let them. I’ll make sure of it.”
Liora’s breath caught. The words were simple, yet they carried a weight she hadn’t expected. Protective, uncompromising, and completely focused on her. She felt a warmth in her chest, a mixture of comfort and something deeper, stirring in the quiet night.
“I… I don’t want to trouble you,” she said softly, hesitant. “I know your reputation… I shouldn’t be—”
He shook his head, cutting her off gently. “You’re not a trouble,” he said firmly. “If anything, you’re… worth noticing. Worth protecting. Don’t apologize for being who you are.”
The words lingered between them, and Liora felt her heart flutter, the tension she had carried all day loosening just slightly. She wanted to say more, to confess how strange and intoxicating it was to have someone like Mattheo care in even the smallest way. But the words lodged in her throat, replaced instead by a tentative smile.
He tilted his head, noticing the subtle change. “You’re smiling,” he observed, a rare softness in his tone. “Careful. You might start getting used to me.”
She laughed lightly, a delicate sound that felt freer than it had in days. “I think I already am,” she admitted quietly, almost as if confessing it only to herself.
Mattheo’s eyes darkened with thought, a flicker of something conflicted crossing his expression. “Then be careful,” he murmured, stepping back just enough to give her space. “Curiosity and trust… they can lead you to unexpected places. And… not all of them are safe.”
Liora nodded, understanding both the warning and the unspoken promise. There was danger in Hogwarts, in the hidden corners, in the currents of power and reputation. But with Mattheo here—watching, protective, yet distant—she felt a cautious courage blooming inside her. She would be careful, yes—but she would not stop exploring, not stop trusting, not stop discovering.
As they walked back toward the castle together, side by side but not touching, Liora felt the weight of the night’s conversation settle around her like a protective charm. It was more than just words—it was a connection, subtle but undeniable. A bond built on trust, on vulnerability, on the quiet understanding that sometimes, even the most guarded hearts could find someone worth letting in.
And Mattheo, walking beside her in the dim torchlight, felt the pull of that bond as strongly as she did, though he would never admit just how deeply it unsettled him.