A heart beneath the mark

3. Part

I sat frozen at the Ravenclaw table, my mind still reeling from the moment Gwen had been sorted. Slytherin. The house I had feared most for her. It didn't make sense—how could my sweet, rebellious sister fit in there?
The applause from the Slytherin table had felt cold and ominous, a far cry from the welcoming cheers that greeted the other first-years. The dark green ties, the silver badges—everything about it felt wrong.
The Great Hall, usually a place of warmth and comfort, felt unfamiliar now. The enchanted ceiling reflected a clear, starry night, but even that beauty was lost on me. The candles floating above our heads flickered gently, casting soft glows over the long tables filled with excited students, but my world seemed shadowed. The chatter and laughter around me were distant, muffled by the swirling storm of thoughts in my head. I could see Gwen across the hall, seated with her new housemates, a nervous smile still playing on her lips as she looked around, trying to fit in.

I wasn't supposed to be here, sitting with Cho and the others, picking at my food. I should be over there, next to Gwen, guiding her, warning her. But I couldn't just march up to the Slytherin table and drag her away. She had to navigate this new world on her own—yet the thought of it twisted something deep inside me.
What if they changed her? What if she became like them? I cast a wary glance towards the far end of the Slytherin table, where the older students sat—where he sat. Mattheo Riddle. I could spot him easily from across the room, his presence almost magnetic, drawing glances from students who were too afraid to stare for long. He leaned back in his chair, casually talking with Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, his dark eyes flicking around the room with an unsettling sharpness.
My stomach churned. Everyone knew who he was. Voldemort's son. And now he was in the same house as Gwen. My little sister, who had never even known the war, the darkness that had once loomed over this world. She didn't understand what that connection meant, what kind of power Mattheo wielded.

I barely touched my dinner. Each bite felt heavy, tasteless. Cho, sitting next to me, was chatting with some Ravenclaw girls, but I wasn't listening. I felt suffocated, my throat tight, my thoughts trapped in a loop. I had to talk to Gwen, tonight. I couldn't let her go to bed thinking everything was fine. Slytherin wasn't safe—not for someone like her.
As soon as the feast ended, I hurried through the crowds of students leaving the Great Hall, determined to catch up with Gwen. She saw her walking with a few Slytherin girls, chatting animatedly. "Gwen!" I called out. My sister turned, smiling, but the excitement in her eyes made me uneasy.
"Can we talk?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. Gwen nodded, excusing herself from the group and following me to a quieter corner of the castle. "What's up?" Gwen asked, her eyes still sparkling from the thrill of being sorted. I took a deep breath. "I need to talk to you about Slytherin... and the people in it."
Gwen's smile faltered, confusion washing over her face. "What do you mean?" "You don't know them like I do," I said carefully. "The boys in that house... they aren't like the rest of us. They're dangerous, especially Mattheo Riddle."
At the mention of his name, Gwen's expression shifted. "I know who he is, Hannah. I'm not stupid." "I didn't say you were," I replied, her frustration rising. "But he is Voldemort's son, Gwen. He's dangerous—"  "Everyone keeps saying that!" Gwen interrupted, her voice sharper than I had ever heard it. "But no one actually knows him. You don't even know him, Hannah. You're judging him based on his father."

I stared at her sister, shocked by her sudden outburst. "I'm trying to protect you," I said softly. "I don't need protecting," Gwen shot back. "I'm in Slytherin now, Hannah. I can handle myself." I sighed, realizing that this conversation was going nowhere. "Just... be careful. Please." Gwen didn't respond. Instead, she gave me a quick hug, her expression softening. "I'll be fine. I promise." And with that, she turned and walked away, back to her new house, leaving me standing alone in the corridor.

The night passed slowly after that. I tried to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw Gwen, surrounded by Slytherins, laughing and joking as if nothing was wrong. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing her, that the house she had been sorted into was pulling her further and further away from me.

When morning finally came, I dragged myself out of bed, still groggy from a restless night. The Ravenclaw dormitory was quiet, the early morning light filtering in through the tall, arched windows. The cool air in the room helped clear my mind a little, but my stomach was still twisted in knots as I dressed quickly, pulling on my robes. I had to talk to Gwen again, maybe try a different approach. If I could just get her to see reason, to understand the risks—

I was so lost in thought as I hurried through the castle halls that I didn't notice someone coming from the opposite direction until I collided with them. Hard.
I stumbled back, blinking in surprise, and looked up—straight into a pair of dark, intense eyes.

Mattheo Riddle.