Chapter 71 Explosive Curiosity
The dim light of the dungeon flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows across the rows of cauldrons and shelves lined with ingredients. Liora had always loved Potions class for its precision, its structured rules, and the quiet rhythm of mixing, measuring, and observing reactions. But today, curiosity gnawed at her with an unrelenting edge. She had discovered a particularly intriguing reagent tucked behind a shelf—a shimmering powder she hadn’t seen before—and she wanted to see what would happen if she combined it with her current potion.
“Just a pinch,” she whispered to herself, shaking a tiny measure into the bubbling mixture. The liquid frothed slightly, glowing faintly in response. Her heart raced with excitement, a thrill she hadn’t anticipated.
“Liora,” Mattheo’s voice cut through her concentration, low and urgent. He had been standing near the back of the room, ostensibly reviewing his own potion notes, but his attention had been entirely on her. “Step back. That’s unstable.”
“I know what I’m doing!” she said quickly, though her voice lacked conviction. The potion hissed and popped in the cauldron, tiny sparks flying upward like mischievous sprites.
Mattheo stepped closer, his wand raised not as a threat, but as a shield, his eyes narrowing in warning. “No—don’t move your wand like that. Just step away.”
Before she could respond, the potion erupted in a sudden, blinding flash. A wave of shimmering green smoke billowed across the workspace, and the cauldron tipped precariously, spilling a small cascade of bubbling liquid across the stone floor. Liora yelped, stumbling backward, wand flailing as she tried to contain the chaos.
Mattheo acted instantly, placing a protective charm in front of her just as the smoke cleared. The splash fizzled harmlessly against the shield, and he moved in front of her, body tense and poised to deflect any further mishaps. His dark eyes glimmered with a mixture of concern and exasperation.
“Are you insane?” he hissed under his breath, though the edge in his voice was tempered with relief. “You could have burned yourself—or worse.”
“I—sorry!” Liora stammered, cheeks flaming. “I just… I wanted to see…” Her voice trailed off, caught between excitement and panic.
Mattheo exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “Curiosity is one thing. Recklessness is another.” He cast a swift spell, cleaning the remaining residue from the floor and stabilizing the cauldron’s contents. The potion’s surface smoothed, the glow dimmed, and the air cleared of the acrid scent of burning herbs.
Liora felt a mixture of awe and gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”
Mattheo’s expression softened, though only slightly. “I know,” he said quietly. “But you need to be more careful. You could have ruined the entire batch—and drawn the wrong attention.”
Her stomach tightened at the reminder. Potions was tricky enough without unintended explosions, and Snape’s scrutiny was always merciless. Liora’s eyes darted toward the front of the classroom, where the professor was slowly approaching, wand raised as though he could sense the disruption even before seeing it.
Mattheo’s jaw tightened. “Stay close,” he murmured, stepping slightly in front of her. He met Snape’s eyes with a calm, almost casual expression, but beneath it was an unspoken tension. Liora knew from past interactions that Mattheo’s reputation alone could deflect suspicion, but there was no guarantee tonight.
“Miss Potter,” Snape’s cold voice cut through the room, sharp and deliberate. “Care to explain why your potion exploded with such… dramatic effect?” His eyes flicked briefly toward Mattheo, the faintest shadow of doubt crossing his gaze.
Liora opened her mouth, but Mattheo’s subtle hand gesture—a barely perceptible shift in stance—warned her to stay silent. She obeyed, heart pounding in her chest, as Mattheo calmly stepped forward.
“Professor,” Mattheo said smoothly, his voice low and controlled, “the explosion was accidental. Miss Potter was experimenting beyond the standard instructions, but no damage was done. The potion has stabilized.”
Snape’s dark eyes narrowed, flicking from the intact cauldron to Liora and back to Mattheo. The shadows in the dungeon seemed to deepen as he considered the situation. “I see,” he said finally, tone clipped. “I will be observing your future work carefully, Mr. Riddle—and Miss Potter.”
Mattheo inclined his head slightly, a measured acknowledgment that didn’t betray any emotion, though Liora could feel the silent relief emanating from him. He glanced at her, eyes flickering with subtle warning and faint amusement.
“You owe me,” he murmured under his breath as he guided her back to her workstation, wand at the ready.
“I—thank you,” she stammered, still flustered, cheeks pink from both embarrassment and the lingering thrill of the near-disaster.
“Don’t mention it,” he replied quietly, though the corner of his mouth hinted at the faintest smirk. “Just… try not to blow anything up next time.”
As the class resumed, Liora worked carefully, double-checking every ingredient and motion, while Mattheo remained close, offering occasional advice in low whispers. Every brush of his hand against hers as he adjusted her posture, every near-overlap of their wands, sent a ripple of awareness through her. The tension from before—the thrill, the danger, the unspoken connection—remained, simmering quietly under the surface.
And in the back of her mind, a small unease lingered. Snape’s eyes had flicked to Mattheo more than once, suspicion hidden but unmistakable. Liora sensed that this minor explosion had set something in motion, a subtle ripple that could complicate their carefully balanced proximity.
As the last bell echoed through the dungeon and students filed out, Liora caught Mattheo’s gaze once more. His expression was inscrutable, dark and unreadable, but she sensed the faintest edge of concern—both for her and for himself.
She left the dungeon with a mixture of relief and lingering excitement, heart still racing. The explosion had been minor, the damage negligible, but the tension between them had grown, charged with a new awareness.
And somewhere in the shadows, Snape’s eyes lingered a moment longer on Mattheo, narrowing ever so slightly, as if the next incident—or misstep—would reveal far more than either student anticipated.