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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For the next two weeks, things between Emerson and Mattheo feel different. The air between them became easier, almost natural, as they attempted to forge a real friendship for the second time.
The morning after their fun night in the Room of Requirement, Mattheo sat beside Emerson at the Ravenclaw table. It took everyone by surprise, including her and his presence drew immediate attention from the Ravenclaw Houser. His dark hair stood out sharply against the pale blue tones of the Ravenclaw robes. Emerson glanced up from her plate of breakfast, surprised by his sudden presence.
"Are you lost? This isn't the Slytherin table," She asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and amusement.
Mattheo smirked, resting his elbows on the table and leaning in with a playful glint in his eyes. "I know, it's fun to get some different scenery for a change."
She raised her eyebrows. "What are you doing here, Mattheo?"
"Isn't this what friends do? They sit with each other?" Mattheo replied, feigning innocence as he casually reached for a slice of toast. His tone was sarcastic, but the warmth beneath it was unmistakable.
Emerson rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Not when they belong to another house, they don't. People are looking at you like you've grown a third head."
"Third?" Mattheo raised his eyebrows. "What's my second head for?"
"For your ego," Emerson joked. Prior to Mattheo joining her, she was proofreading her Muggle Studies essay. Now, it lay forgotten next to her on the table. Her attention was completely diverted to Mattheo, their eyes holding a moment of shared warmth. "It takes up enough space."
"Ouch, you wound me," Mattheo placed a hand over his chest as if he were in pain, but the smirk never disappeared. "You act like you're so by-the-book, Emie, but here you are, throwing insults at me," He teased, using the nickname that always made her stomach flutter slightly. "I'm breaking house table barriers for you. At least pretend to be happy to see me."
"I'm happy," Emerson protested with a wide smile. "Just give me a minute to recover from the shock of seeing you sit with people who aren't arrogant and conceited." Mattheo smirked. "So, why are you actually speaking to me? You know we're in public right now and everyone can see."
"Let them," Mattheo chuckled but his dark eyes looked at her seriously. "We're not going to pretend to be enemies in public anymore. I want everyone to see that we are friends, that you're mine... Well, my friend," He added hastily, trying to hide his mistake.
Emerson didn't notice. She was caught up in the fact that he didn't want to pretend he was enemies with her to avoid judgement from others. He didn't seem to care anymore about what people thought. "You want to properly be friends? Are you coming down with something?" She playfully leant across the table to touch his forehead, as if to check if he was sick. He swatted her hand away, but he was still smiling.
