Mind Over Matter || Mattheo Riddle

P E R F E C T E Y E S

The question runs through my mind, over and over again.

Did I hurt you?

No one ever asks that question. If anything, someone would just apologize. But Riddle wants to know if he hurt me, probably because he can't imagine how he might have.

"Thatcher, don't ignore me. Did I hurt you?" He repeated the question like it was the most normal thing he's ever done.

I shake my head, just as dumbfounded as I was a minute ago, when he first asked.

He asks that of everyone when they act like I did. He has to, otherwise he wouldn't have asked me.

"I'm going to bed." I didn't give him a chance to protest, a chance for him to ask me again. "Go back to the party. I'll see you in class tomorrow, Riddle."

My feet started going before my mind did and I only registered anything once I was in a hallway I barely recognized. Looking around at where I was, my vision blurred then focused, repeating the pattern a handful of times.

My head hurt, and my eyes were stinging with unshed tears, and I wanted to be in my bed.

I was somewhere on the opposite side of the school from the Hufflepuff dorms, somehow, and suddenly I was regretting telling Riddle to go back to the party. He would have led me the right way to my dorm and I would be asleep by now.

A wave of dizziness hit me like a moving truck, and I had to stable myself by leaning on a wall. I blamed Marcus for it, even if it wasn't entirely his fault.

I was naïve enough to accept a drink from someone I didn't know and it was my fault I was drugged. I should have known better. I should have recognized the feeling sooner than I did, sooner than Theodore did.

Continuing my walk through the dark hallway, I let my hand travel along the cracks in the cement walls. This school was probably the oldest standing building I had ever been in and it was in surprisingly good condition. Probably due to magic, that was obviously the reason it was still standing.

I found a turn in the hall I was in, and I followed it. I didn't know where I was going. With any luck, I'd be back at my dorm soon.

The walls seemed never ending and I was getting tired of walking by now. My feet hurt and my shoes were loud against the floor. My dress was too small to keep me warm, considering how cold this school was, and my hair felt dirty.

Thinking about it now, I probably should have showered before I left my dorm earlier. I also shouldn't have left my dorm earlier.

Once I realized I was going in circles, I decided to sit down. There was no point in walking around if I didn't know where I was going and I desperately needed to sleep. So, I made the amazing and mature decision to sleep on the floor, in the middle of a hallway.

What could go wrong, right?

•••

"I'm back for good this time, Julia. Isn't that exciting?" My mother seems thinner than normal.

"But... Momma?" I ask, hugging my teddy closer to my chest. Momma reaches out to touch me and I see how all of her nails are cut short. All but one. "Daddy said you're not coming back, why did he lie to me?"

Momma leans on the wall behind her, she looks like she's dizzy. "I don't know, baby. Maybe he was just... joking around. Let's go get you something to drink before bed, yes?"

I walk with Momma into our kitchen, and she starts looking through all of our cupboards. "Momma, the cups are in that one." I point to the cupboard beside the microwave. I don't think she heard me, so I walk behind her and pull on her shirt.

"What do you want?" Momma's voice is loud, like she's mad at me.

•••

Once I woke up, my whole day was a blur.

And so was the next, then the next. Soon enough, I was in my last Herbology class before Christmas break.

Professor Sprout-my personal favourite of the Hogwarts staff, probably because I'm biased to my head of house-is going off about how Headmaster Dumbledore supplied her with the wrong funds for the year and this is the third time I've heard this rant this year.

Looking across the table, where the Slytherins were standing, I noticed a familiar face looking at me. Well, four familiar faces.

Theodore was teasing Draco about something, looking over at me every few seconds, and Lorenzo was whispering something to Riddle.

Riddle's eyes-those stupid brown eyes I had found myself searching for every day for the last two months-felt like they were piercing into me. Like he could hear my thoughts.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from his face, his stupid face. Luckily, by the looks of it, he couldn't tear his eyes away from my face, either.

When Professor Sprout's voice came back into focus, she was talking about a new plant we had to analyze and create a paper on. One thousand words, by the time Christmas Break officially started.

Professor Sprout was the first to leave the class when it ended, mumbling something about how she was going to have a 'conversation' with the Headmaster.

My smile-one that I used to think was fake, only to realized it only ever showed up when Pomona Sprout made me feel like I had some kind of mom-didn't fade as I left the classroom and walked all the way to the library.

I still felt my lips turned upwards as I looked across each book on a few shelves, looking for one on the plant named Bubotuber. I don't know how to pronounce it either, don't ask.

Once I finally found a copy of the book I needed, I sat at the back of the library, at a table near the restricted section. Not that I was doing anything wrong, like most people who sit back here, it was simply quieter and easier to focus. Plus, it stopped most of the students from having loud sex back here.

The parchment I was using to write my report had crinkled, and it was hard to even position it in a way that I would be able to write on it. Scratch that, then. I'll write it tomorrow.

I started reading through the book, ripping pieces of parchment off of the roll I had brought and placing it in the crease of pages I thought might be helpful when someone walked up to my table.

I lifted my gaze to see Riddle standing in front of me, leaning on the table.

"Riddle. Need something?" I asked, closing my book and turning my head towards him. Proper adequate, it doesn't mean anything when I turn to look at him.

"Yes, actually. I need a girlfriend."