War, Love, and Riddle //Mattheo Riddle x OC

Chapter Four - Bewitch Me

Mattheo wanted to believe he could handle whatever Emma Potter threw at him. Wanted to believe the burn in his chest was nothing but a silly crush, something he could snuff out with sheer will. He told himself it was only the chase, that he just wanted the one girl who dared to push him away. He repeated the lie until it blurred into white noise.

And then he saw her.

The Great Hall glowed with flickering torchlight, shadows stretching long across the high ceiling bewitched to mirror the gray sky outside. Emma slipped in beside Pansy, her raven hair pulled into a low bun, her shirt loose at the collar and tie hanging low. She looked devastating without trying, laughter lighting her green eyes as she leaned into Pansy's whisper.

A tall boy slipped an arm around her shoulders.

Mattheo's gut twisted violently when he saw who it was. Rolf Scamander.

Jealousy rose sharp and hot, coiling like a viper. Scamander. Of all people. What did he have that Mattheo didn't? Probably the kind of easy charm Mattheo had never mastered. Probably a personality that didn't sting her with nicknames like Prophecy.

He told himself to look away. He didn't. Couldn't.

Her nose scrunched as she laughed...... that laugh, the one that had lodged itself in his brain, and she gave it freely to Scamander. She touched his arm, and the Hufflepuff flushed crimson, like she'd handed him the bloody crown jewels.

Then, as if she'd felt the fire of his stare, Emma's eyes snapped to him. For one heartbeat, green collided with brown, and something sharp and unspoken passed between them. Then her glare cut through him, cool and deliberate. Scamander followed her gaze and, Merlin help him, had the audacity to wave.

Mattheo's jaw ticked, his fist tightening around his fork until it creaked. Emma tugged Rolf away before the whole thing could explode.

It wasn't enough that every idiot boy at Hogwarts drooled after her. Now he had to watch her choose someone who didn't even blink at Voldemort's son.

Emma, on the other hand, found herself almost relieved by Rolf's lack of fear. He wasn't cowed by Mattheo's death glare. He wasn't weighed down by prophecy or dark legacies. With Rolf, she wasn't "the other Potter twin."

She needed that. She needed different.

"I can walk you to class," Rolf offered, her hand still looped through his arm.

"That would be nice," she said, smiling softly.

Her smile was radiant, bright as summer light over the Black Lake. Rolf felt dizzy with it, as though he'd stumbled into a dream. He liked being invisible, but with Emma, invisibility didn't feel like a burden. It felt like something she might long for too.

"I've never seen a niffler," she mused.

"They're adorable little thieves," Rolf grinned, describing one with a fondness that made her nose scrunch again. His grandfather's stories spilled out of him, awkward and eager. "Maybe you could meet him someday. My granddad. And the niffler."

"I'd love that," she said, eyes sparkling. His heart nearly burst through his ribs.

At the Potions dungeon door, Rolf bowed dramatically. She giggled. "I'll see you later, Emma Potter."

"And you as well, Rolf Scamander."

He left floating, cheeks pink, while she slipped into the cold stone chamber beneath the Black Lake.

The dungeon was dim, lanterns throwing green-tinged light across damp walls. The weight of the water above pressed faintly against the ceiling, shadows rippling as if the lake itself was listening. Shelves of ingredients lined the walls, glass jars catching the light, the scent of herbs and dried roots thick in the air.