Chapter 65 Misread Intentions
The mid-morning corridors of Hogwarts buzzed with the usual energy: students rushing to classes, exchanging gossip, and dodging the occasional enchanted prank. Liora walked briskly toward the Charms classroom, her mind replaying the events of the last few days. Between her quiet investigations into Slytherin history and the subtle interactions with Mattheo, her heart felt caught between excitement and unease.
As she turned a corner, a familiar voice called out, dripping with amusement.
“Well, well, Potter,” a Gryffindor boy said, leaning casually against the stone wall. “Still sneaking around with the Slytherin prince, are we?”
Liora froze, cheeks flushing immediately. “I—What do you mean?” she stammered, gripping her bag strap tighter.
“You know exactly what I mean,” the boy said, smirking. “Mattheo Riddle. Seen you sneaking around, studying together, and everyone’s whispering about it. What’s going on? Are you two… close?”
The words hit her harder than she expected. She hadn’t considered that anyone was watching their interactions so closely. Her heart raced as she processed the teasing, and in her naivety, her mind immediately jumped to conclusions.
“It’s not like that,” she said quickly, her voice defensive. “We’re just… studying. That’s all. He—he’s just… helping me with spells.”
The Gryffindor boy raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, studying. Everyone in Slytherin’s talking about it, you know. They think he’s got a thing for you. That Riddle boy doesn’t waste his time on anyone unless there’s a reason.”
Liora’s stomach twisted. She had trusted Mattheo, believed in his protective, quiet nature, and now it felt like that trust was being undermined by someone else’s words. She felt a flicker of uncertainty creep in, wondering if she had misread his intentions all along. Did he truly care about her, or was she just another curiosity to him, someone to watch and manipulate like the rest of the school?
“I… I don’t know what you mean,” she said again, trying to steady her voice, but the flush of embarrassment betrayed her.
The Gryffindor leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Just… be careful, Potter. You don’t want to get involved with him. Slytherin’s full of secrets, and that Riddle boy… he’s dangerous.”
Liora nodded stiffly, forcing a polite smile, but inside, her mind was a storm. She tried to recall the moments she had shared with Mattheo—the careful guidance, the subtle protection, the quiet trust he had shown her. None of it felt manipulative; it had all been genuine. And yet, the teasing words lingered, planting seeds of doubt she hadn’t expected.
She hurried down the corridor, the Gryffindor’s laughter fading behind her. Her thoughts raced with conflicting emotions. She wanted to believe Mattheo, to trust him completely as she always had, but the idea that others saw him differently, that whispers of danger followed him, gnawed at her confidence.
By the time she arrived at the Charms classroom, her heart was still fluttering, her usual calm resolve shaken. She slid into an empty seat, trying to focus on her notes, but her mind kept wandering back to Mattheo. Had she misread him? Was she naïve for trusting him so fully?
A quiet shadow fell across her desk, and she looked up to see Mattheo standing there, dark eyes scanning her expression. For a moment, Liora felt the tension in the room shift—his presence was commanding, yet somehow reassuring.
“You look… distracted,” he said, his voice low, carefully neutral.
Liora blinked, caught off guard. “I… I’m fine,” she said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… thinking.”
Mattheo raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than necessary. There was a subtle intensity in his look, the kind that seemed to see right through her thoughts. “About what?” he asked softly.
She hesitated, unsure if she should admit the small misunderstanding, the words of a Gryffindor spreading doubt in her mind. But she trusted him more than anyone else. Slowly, she whispered, “People… talking. About us. About you.”
A flicker of something crossed Mattheo’s face—annoyance, perhaps, at the rumours, but also a faint smile that softened the edges of his usual aloof demeanour. “People will talk,” he said simply, sitting in the chair next to her. “Always. But what matters is what we know, not them.”
Liora felt her tension ease slightly at his words, the warmth of his presence reminding her why she had trusted him from the start. Still, a lingering doubt remained, subtle but insistent, as she realized how easily outside voices could cloud her judgment.
“I… I just wasn’t sure,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t know if I misread things.”
Mattheo’s gaze softened, his hand brushing the edge of her notes as if to anchor her. “You didn’t misread. You saw the truth,” he said, voice low, almost intimate. “The rest… doesn’t matter.”
Relief and warmth flooded Liora, her cheeks flushing at his words. She realized how easy it was to let others’ perceptions interfere with what she felt was real, and how important it was to trust her instincts—and Mattheo.
The class began to fill, professors and students bustling into their seats, but the moment lingered between them, unspoken yet heavy with meaning. They shared a glance, a silent acknowledgment that no rumour, no teasing, could undermine the bond they had begun to build.
Still, as Liora focused on her lessons, a small unease lingered in the back of her mind. The corridors of Hogwarts were full of whispers and shadows, and while Mattheo’s presence was a shield, she knew the world around them would continue to challenge her trust.
Yet in that fleeting, quiet moment, she also understood one truth clearly: she trusted him—and that trust, fragile but growing, was stronger than any rumour the castle could conjure.