Chapter 5 Hallway Curiosity
The corridors of Hogwarts at night held a kind of magic all their own. Liora Potter had discovered quickly that the castle was never truly silent, never truly still. The stone walls seemed to breathe, whispering in echoes that carried down long hallways, around spiralling staircases, and past hidden doorways. After dinner and a brief study session with Ella in the Hufflepuff common room, she felt the irresistible tug of curiosity.
“I just want to see more,” she whispered to herself, securing her robe and clutching her wand. “Just a little walk. I’ll be back before anyone notices.”
The common room was quiet, the warmth of the fire fading behind her as she slipped into the hallways. The torches flickered gently, casting uneven shadows along the ancient stone. Liora’s footsteps echoed faintly, a soft rhythm that seemed to sync with the pulse of the castle itself.
At first, she wandered through familiar hallways—those that led to the dining hall, the classrooms, and the staircases she had already learned to navigate. But soon, her curiosity pushed her farther. She remembered Harry’s stories about secret passages and hidden corridors, places students weren’t supposed to be but often explored.
And then she saw it: a corridor she didn’t recognize, lined with green and silver accents, with an arched doorway slightly ajar. A flicker of instinct told her this was Slytherin territory. Normally, she would have turned away immediately, but something about the mysterious air of the corridor drew her in.
She stepped closer, holding her wand loosely in one hand, feeling the energy in the air shift. The corridor was darker than the rest of the castle, lit only by intermittent torches, and a faint chill brushed against her skin. It was as if the walls themselves were warning her to stop, yet a thrill ran through her that made her heartbeat quicken.
A soft noise—a whispered step, or perhaps the echo of her own curiosity—made her pause. She pressed herself against the wall, peering around the corner. That’s when she saw him.
Mattheo Riddle.
He was walking slowly down the corridor, his dark robes brushing the stone floor. His head was slightly lowered, hands clasped behind him, and yet his presence seemed to dominate the hallway. Even in motion, he carried an air of deliberate control, a quiet authority that made Liora’s breath catch in her throat.
He didn’t see her at first, and part of her wanted to call out, to wave, to introduce herself—but instinct held her tongue. Instead, she watched, fascinated, as he stopped midway down the hall.
The castle seemed to shift around him in the faint torchlight. Liora felt the same magnetic pull she had noticed in the Great Hall, the same inexplicable draw that made her pulse thrum against her ribs. And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone.
Her eyes widened. She blinked, certain she had imagined it. But no—there was an emptiness in the corridor now, a quiet absence where he had stood. The feeling of being observed lingered, pressing against her senses. It was almost as if he hadn’t walked through the hall at all, and yet, she had seen him.
“Mattheo Riddle,” she whispered under her breath, tasting the name like a secret she shouldn’t know. “Who are you?”
The hallway was silent except for her own breathing and the distant echo of a closing door somewhere far off. Liora’s curiosity wrestled with her nerves. She should turn around and go back to the common room, she told herself. This wasn’t her territory, and Slytherin students were rumoured to be… difficult, mysterious, sometimes dangerous.
Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Something in that brief encounter had set her mind ablaze. Who was he, really? Why did he disappear like that? And why did her instincts insist that she needed to know him?
She walked slowly forward, stepping cautiously into the corridor where he had vanished. The stones beneath her feet seemed to hum softly, a subtle resonance that made the hairs on her arms rise. She followed the faint trail of presence, as if the castle itself were guiding her, teasing her with invisible threads.
A low, almost imperceptible shimmer ran along the wall ahead. Liora froze, heart pounding. Could it be another secret passage? She had read about them in the library—hidden doorways that only revealed themselves under the right conditions. She moved closer, hand outstretched, wand at the ready.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the corridor ahead went dark. One moment there had been light spilling from a distant torch, and the next, shadows filled the hall. Liora’s pulse jumped. She spun around, trying to retrace her steps, but the hallway stretched in unfamiliar directions, staircases seemingly shifting as she moved.
She realized she had wandered deeper than intended—lost, and yet entranced. Her mind raced with excitement and fear in equal measure. Somewhere, just beyond reach, the dark presence she had felt—the one she couldn’t ignore—was watching.
A faint whisper of movement brushed against her awareness. She turned sharply, wand raised, and glimpsed him again. Mattheo’s figure appeared at the far end of the hall, framed by shadows. His dark eyes met hers, intense and unreadable, as if he could see not just her, but every question, every curiosity, every pulse of emotion within her.
Before she could call out, he stepped back into the shadows, and the corridor stretched empty once more. She blinked, heart hammering, sure she had seen him vanish into thin air.
Liora took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm her racing thoughts. The castle was full of mysteries, after all. Secret passages, enchanted corridors, students with hidden talents… but this? This felt different. Something about Mattheo Riddle had left a mark on her senses, a faint, lingering pull that she didn’t understand.
Reluctantly, she turned back toward the direction she believed led to the Hufflepuff common room. Her steps echoed in the silent corridor, each one a reminder that the castle was alive with secrets—and that she had just glimpsed one she wasn’t meant to understand, at least not yet.
As she climbed the stairs back to the common room, Liora’s mind refused to rest. Who was Mattheo? How had he disappeared so suddenly? And why did the faint thread of connection feel almost tangible, pulling her thoughts toward him, drawing her curiosity like a magnet?
When she finally reached the warmth of Hufflepuff, the fire casting soft light across familiar faces, she forced herself to smile. Ella greeted her cheerfully, but Liora could only nod, lost in thought.
Somewhere in the winding corridors of Hogwarts, he had been there, watching, waiting—or perhaps testing her. And somewhere deep inside, Liora Potter knew, without understanding how or why, that their paths would cross again.
The year had begun. And with it, a sense of something inevitable, dangerous, and magnetic that neither of them could yet name, but both would soon feel pulling them inexorably together.