A heart beneath the mark

4. Part

My heart stopped. The light from the high windows cast long shadows on the stone floor, and the torches on the walls flickered dimly, creating a dull glow over his face. He stood there, tall and composed, his gaze locking onto mine with an unsettling calmness. "Look where you're going, Ravenclaw!" said the dark-haired boy with a small smile. I immediately realized how everything inside me contracted. Great, just yesterday I said I should stay away from him, and now I've run right into him. I didn't know how to react. If I apologized, he would only feel superior and make fun of me. But if I said something snappy, it might not end well for me.
"Sorry, I didn't see you," I said, turning around and about to walk away, but his dark voice stopped me. "Where do you think you're going in such a hurry, Ravenclaw? You seem to be in a real rush, as if you're running away from something." His gaze was intense and penetrating, and I felt my heartbeat quicken. "Or maybe you're just afraid to tell me the truth to my face. What is it, huh? Are you scared I might see right through you?"

I wanted to tell him to stay away from Gwen. I wanted to slap him and make it clear that I wasn't as weak as he thought I was. I think he noticed my expression and the need to insult him because he took a step closer, and I could hardly bear the mockery in his voice. "It would be a shame if you were just one of those cowardly Ravenclaws hiding behind their knowledge. I thought you were stronger."
"Fuck you, Riddle," I blurted out, immediately regretting my words as I saw the surprise in his eyes.
"Ah, there it is. Go on. I think you have a lot more to say, huh? What was your name again? The know-it-all?" he said, maintaining that insufferable smile. I looked into his eyes, matching his smile with one of my own. "Call me what you want; I don't care." Then I quickly turned around and continued on my way, leaving a surprised Slytherin behind.

Damn, that felt good!

I ran into the Great Hall with a satisfied smile, walked past the Slytherin table, and looked for my sister. She sat at the front of the teacher's table, happily eating her pudding. Luckily for me, she was alone, so I sat down next to her for a moment. "Hey, Pumpkin," I said, but she looked at me a little annoyed.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't like that nickname?" she replied, returning her focus to her pudding. "Believe me, I'll never stop calling you that," I said, stroking her blonde hair, which was tied back in a braid. "What do you want, Hannah? You're at the wrong table!" she replied coldly, sending a chill down my spine. I didn't know her like this; she was usually happy to see me.

"Um... I wanted to talk to you again. About yesterday and about Mat—", "Mattheo Riddle. We've already discussed this, Hannah. I can take care of myself. I'm a Slytherin! I'm going to learn enough here to defend myself. Please stop worrying about me!" With those words, she left the table and walked out of the Great Hall.
"Shit," I muttered to myself as I went to my table and sat down next to Cho. She noticed my expression and asked what was wrong. I told her everything—my worries about Gwen, my encounter with Mattheo Riddle, and my recent conversation with my sister.

"You can't protect her forever. She has to figure out for herself what's good for her and what isn't! And if something happens to her, I'm sure she'll come to you," she began. I just nodded, feeling guilty about telling Mattheo Riddle to "fuck off" just a few minutes ago, knowing he had probably noticed me.
"And you really just left Mattheo Riddle in the hallway and walked away? Are you tired of life, Hannah? I think that's bold but also very dangerous. You realize you have his attention now?" Cho said, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. I sighed and got up, muttering, "I know," as I left the Great Hall to head to my first class: Potions.

As I walked into the Potions classroom, the familiar scent of herbs and concoctions enveloped me. Professor Slughorn stood at the front, adjusting his round glasses as he greeted the class with his usual flair. "Ah, welcome! Today we'll be delving into the intricacies of potion-making, so pay close attention!"

I found an empty desk in the corner, hoping for a distraction-free space. As I settled in, I could still feel the tension from my earlier encounter with Mattheo. My mind raced with thoughts about Gwen and the warnings I had tried to give her. The classroom buzzed with excitement, and I tried to focus on the materials laid out before me.

Just as Slughorn began to outline the day's lesson, the door swung open with a loud creak. My heart sank as I recognized the figure entering. Mattheo Riddle strode in, his presence commanding immediate attention. He scanned the room, his dark eyes locking onto mine for a fleeting moment before he approached Slughorn.

"Ah, Mr. Riddle! You're late," Slughorn said with a hint of jovial reproach. "Take a seat next to Miss Bennett; I trust you'll be able to catch up."

My stomach twisted. Of all the seats, why did it have to be next to me? As he slid into the chair beside mine, I could feel the weight of his gaze. The air between us was charged, and I fought the urge to glance his way.

"So Bennett mh? What a name. How's the brave Ravenclaw from earlier?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing. I stiffened, trying to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks. Instead, I focused intently on the cauldron in front of me, willing myself to concentrate on the potion we were about to brew.
I could feel his presence next to me, the way he leaned in slightly as if he was genuinely interested in my work. "I didn't expect you to be such a fighter," he continued, his tone playful. "Most would have crumbled under that pressure."

"Maybe you should take your own advice, Riddle," I shot back, keeping my eyes on the instructions. "You should really learn not to underestimate people." He chuckled softly, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of something unexpected in his expression. Before I could dwell on it, Slughorn interrupted, calling for our attention as he began to explain the potion we would be creating.

As the lesson progressed, I tried to ignore the lingering tension between us. But every time I glanced sideways, I found him watching me, an inscrutable smile playing on his lips. Each time our eyes met, my heart raced, a confusing mix of anger and annoyance. I steeled myself; this wouldn't end well if I let my guard down.