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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The library was unusually quiet, even for a Monday evening. The sunset filtered through the tall, arched windows, casting warm golden beams across the wooden tables and bookshelves. Emerson sat at a table in the back corner, where she and Mattheo had taken up residence for the last hour, surrounded by stacks of parchment, quills, and various spell books. The sound of flipping pages and the occasional cough from another student studying echoed in the otherwise quiet space.
They were studying together because Mattheo asked her earlier that day for help with Charms. Mattheo, however, wasn't writing down anything. He wasn't even looking at his book. Instead, his eyes were fixed on her again.
Emerson had noticed that he kept doing it several times in the past hour. He would ask her to explain a concept, and she would do so, going through the motions of describing the charm and demonstrating it with a flick of her wand. But every time she glanced at him, he wasn't paying attention to the charm or her explanations. His gaze stayed locked on her, as if he was studying something far more interesting. He wasn't even pretending to follow on.
Emerson was in the middle of explaining the proper wand movements for the Finite Incantatem charm when she noticed it yet again. Mattheo wasn't looking at the diagrams she was pointing to. He wasn't even glancing at his notes or his wand. No, once again, his gaze was fixed squarely on her, his dark eyes not daring to look anywhere other than her face.
She sighed and put down her quill, glancing up at him after finishing her third demonstration. "Mattheo."
His lips curved into a lazy smirk. "Yes, Emie?"
Emerson narrowed her eyes. "Are you even paying attention?"
He blinked at the possibility of being caught out, shifting in his seat. "Yeah, of course I am."
"No, you're not," Emerson gave him a stern look, crossing her arms. "I've explained the Finite Incantatem charm three times, and I doubt you could even tell me what it's supposed to do."
"Of course I can," Mattheo scoffed.
She gave him a deadpan look, unimpressed. "Right. What did I just explain, then?"
Mattheo smirked, leaning his elbows on the table and lowering his voice, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's supposed to... Do something with magic."
"Right," Emerson huffed, exasperation creeping into her voice. "It cancels out spells, and you should know that by now. But instead of paying attention, you've been staring at me the whole time."
Mattheo's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting mischievously. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Really?" Emerson raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Then why haven't you written down a single note in the last hour? And why do you keep staring at me like I've grown an extra head?"
