LUNACY ll Mattheo Riddle x Reader

2. ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ᴛʀɪᴏ

The double doors to the Great Hall swing open. Enter a professor in black robes, and a boy around my age with messy black hair and green eyes. I realize with a start that this must be the famous Harry Potter- Who else would be arriving so late, with half his face matted in blood?

Draco sniggers into his glass, causing me and his friends to turn to him curiously.

"Draco... What did you do?" My eyes follow the Chosen One as he trudges his way to the Gryffindor table. He sits between a bushy haired girl and a redheaded boy, who appear to be assailing him with questions about his face. He says something to them in return, and three glares shoot themselves in my brother's direction. Draco stares right back at the trio, wearing something of a triumphant smile.

Shaking his head, the redhead mutters something to Potter, then points at... Me. Potter's expression hardens into something colder, his stupid Gryffindor logic undoubtedly singling me out as an enemy before he's even had the chance to talk with me.

When we finish eating, the Headmaster rises from his chair and begins a speech regarding a certain Dark Lord's return to power. All eyes turn to Mattheo, of course, but more than several pairs bore down on myself and Draco. It's all very drab, Dumbledore doesn't seem like much, but I suppose some part of my opinions are due in part to the way my father talks about him. But what would Lucius Malfoy know? It's not Dumbledore who's gotten himself locked up in Azkaban.

The others leave before I do, probably because I'm busy helping myself to seconds and thirds of dessert. Durmstrang had an excellent curriculum and all, but the food there was abysmal, so I'm making up for all the years I missed out on. I end up bumping into Potter and his friends on the way out, all three of whom shoot me dirty looks. I suppose I could act the exact way they expect me to, the exact way that I want to, but something tells me I'll be garnering a much more entertaining reaction if I take them by surprise.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," I take on an abashed tone.

The three exchange glances with one another before the redhead clears his throat and says, "Right- Because you Malfoys are so high and mighty to be bothered with noticing us mere mortals, is that it?"

"What?" I gasp, put on a confused, perhaps even a horrified, expression. "No, that's not what I meant at all! It's just that I'm new here, and I don't know how to navigate these corridors just yet."

"Oh," the boy's face falls. "Well."

"It's all very complicated, isn't it? Moving staircases and disappearing doors- Life at Durmstrang was so much simpler."

The girl lights up at the mention of my school. "My name's Hermione and you're from Durmstrang? Did you like it there? What about the classes? I tried asking Viktor a few years back, but he didn't seem very invested in the school's academic agenda," she says very rapidly.

"You know Viktor Krum?" I raise my eyebrows. "No, Viktor wouldn't have been interested in the curriculum at all. Pretty sure that after I scared him out of one of our Dark Arts classes, he never showed up again."

"Scared him out?"

"Dark Arts classes?"

Both Hermione and Potter ask together.

"We're taught all sorts of Dark spells at the school- Placed into classes based on skill, not age, so that the learning's more effective," I answer, and Hermione nods along eagerly. "And yes, I needed to test out a jinx I'd created the other day, and I figured that should something go wrong, the- Ah, the toughest of us would get affected the least."

"Wait- You're that Y/n?" Hermione gasps, positively scandalized. "Viktor told me about you! He said that Durmstrang entered a whole new era of chaos the moment you stepped through its gates."

"Did he really?" I beam. "How thoughtful of him."

"I don't think that's-"

"And you?" I turn to Potter. "You're him, aren't you? The Chosen One? Did you come back from fighting a beast in the Forest or something?" I gesture to the remaining specks of blood on his face.

"Surprised your brother hasn't boasted all about it already," Potter mutters.

I shake my head. "Draco and I have never talked much, really. He never responded to any of my owls first year, and after that, I pretty much gave up on trying."

"Really?" Harry seems strangely happy about that, and his tone becomes a lot friendlier afterwards. "So, what classes will you be taking this year?" he asks as we all start heading for the staircases.

"Will you even be able to attend any of the N.E.W.T. classes?" Hermione frowns. "But Durmstrang students don't take the O.W.L.s, do they?"

"They filtered in my grades to match with the markings they give out here. I think I managed most of the major subjects, along with Ancient Runes."

Both Harry and the redhead whom I assume must be a Weasley recoil at the talk of the last subject, while Hermione gets giddy with excitement.

After a brief gap of silence, Harry nudges Weasley in the shoulder, and the boy stammers, "Er- Play any Quidditch?" He's clearly still in shock that either of his two friends want to talk to me, even more stunned by the fact that they expect him to follow in their example.

"Ironic though it may be, Durmstrang didn't have any sports clubs, much less any Quidditch teams." I reply. "I'm hoping to try out, though- I'd say I have decent skills on a broom."

"So long as you don't bribe your way in like your brother," Weasley snorts.

"He did what?" I stare incredulously. "Merlin, who am I kidding? Of course he did. Is that why I received that Nimbus 2001 from my father, Second Year? He added a note saying that Quality Quidditch Supplies offered him an extra one, free of charge, when he bought a team's worth from them."

We're all laughing by the time we reach the stairs, where we then part ways- The trio taking the stairs that will let them up to Gryffindor Tower, while I travel down to the dungeons, to where I was told the Slytherin dorms are located.

I'm in the dark stairway, both sides of me made up of stone walls- There's a familiar scent of cigarettes in the air that I can't quite place... And that's when a hand pulls me back from behind and slams me against the nearest one.

"You."