Emerson Wilmore was an exemplary Ravenclaw student, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and an unyielding moral compass. However, things took a twisted and deviated turn in her life after her boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, was murdered by L...
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It was early February. The day already felt off to Emerson when she opened her eyes that morning after yet another broken sleep. Her thoughts were muddled and unfocused from fatigue as she wandered through the halls of Hogwarts after class.
She barely noticed where she was going until she collided with someone hard.
She stumbled back, blinking in surprise. When her eyes finally focused, she saw him. Mattheo.
Of course it was Mattheo.
He stood there, looking down at her with the same cold, detached expression that she'd grown accustomed to since they stopped being friends. He was wearing that stupid Inquisitorial badge pinned on his robes, which only infuriated her every time she saw it. For a brief moment, she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes, something familiar, but then it was gone, replaced by that usual bitter look.
"Watch where you're going, Wilmore," Mattheo snapped, his voice biting. "Or are you too busy being perfect to notice anyone else around you?"
Emerson's immediate instinct was to apologise, to mutter something and move on, but the venom in his tone caught her off guard, and before she could stop herself, the retort was out of her mouth. "Perfect? Is that what you think I am, Riddle? Because the only thing you seem to be good at these days is being an arrogant prick."
He smirked, but there was no warmth in it. "Arrogant? You're one to talk. You've got everyone wrapped around your little finger, haven't you? Potter, Weasley... It's pathetic how they all trip over themselves for you."
The words were sharper than usual today, biting into her like they were meant to wound, and Emerson felt the familiar sting in her chest. But instead of backing down, instead of letting him see how much his cruelty affected her, she squared her shoulders, her voice rising. "At least I don't go around punching people for no reason, Riddle. Maybe if you had a bit more self-control, you wouldn't be so desperate to lash out at everyone around you."
Mattheo's expression hardened. "Oh, Wilmore. I see that you're still upset I knocked that Weasley idiot on his arse?" His tone was taunting and dismissive.
