Dusk and Desire - A Mattheo Riddle Story

Boys Will Be Boys

The energy level in the Great Hall was high on that January morning. It was unusually warm for a winter's day so all of the students were excited to be spending their free periods in the courtyard after such a long and dismal winter. Of course, the Slytherin Quidditch team figured that probably meant that their captain had booked the pitch for every single one of those free periods—as it was well-known that Lorenzo Berkshire's love for Quidditch rivaled that of former Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood. But Enzo had been rather distracted by his new girlfriend so Nora happily accepted the time off while she could get it.

She was now sitting with some of the Slytherin boys as they happily talked about... well, boring boy stuff. To be honest, she was just waiting for Mattheo to finally finish eating so they could go up to his room and enjoy some of their Friday. Which, at the rate he was shoving Yorkshire puddings into his mouth, would be a while. He might have been at pudding number eight... Nora rolled her eyes as they chatted and picked at the remains of her yogurt.

"I bet you can't go an hour without shoving something in your mouth, Riddle, can you?" Draco said as he leaned back lazily and continued to watch Mattheo eat. Honestly, it was kind of impressive how much he was able to consume without even looking bloated. Nora was jealous.

"Nora wouldn't like that bet," Mattheo said slyly. She blushed but she still elbowed him in the ribs for good measure. Best to not let boys get too comfortable. "But if you want to talk bets, then let's bets, Malfoy. I bet that you can't go six months without bleaching your hair."

"I don't bleach my hair!"

Mattheo's lip turned upward as he paused his eating and stared at his friend. Then, he chuckled under his breath. "Sure, Malfoy. Whatever you want to believe."

"It's a bloody fact, you moron!"

"Nora, baby, does Malfoy bleach his hair?"

She scrunched her eyebrows before looking at Draco. "It looks like he does."

Mattheo grinned triumphantly and put his arm around her. "See! My girlfriend is the smartest girl in Hogwarts and she said you bleach your hair."

"That doesn't make it true, you half-wit. My girlfriend—"

"Uh, Malfoy, I think you meant fiancee," Mattheo said pointedly. But Nora saw the look on Draco's face. He definitely meant girlfriend and she knew he hadn't meant to say that.

"I'm out of here," Draco sneered as he packed up his things with a huff.

"Off to touch up your hair, eh? Probably good. Looking a little drab." Draco just scowled and stormed off as Mattheo yelled, "Oh, and Malfoy! Tell your fiancee's sister that she just needs to name the date! She'll know what it means." He turned to Nora and said to her, "She's my future wife, y'know. Just have to plan the wedding."

As if it were the most perfectly reasonable thing to say. Now, Nora was the one scowling. Mattheo just grinned. "Don't worry, princess. They're my future wives only because when you kill me, I'll need someone to marry in the afterlife. You'll be my first wife."

Nora rolled her eyes but surprisingly didn't elbow him or shove off his arm like she might have before. Perhaps that was because she was finally learning that, in a way, his jokes about future wives were a way of masking his insecurities that she wouldn't be his future wife. And in some backward way, she thought it was sweet. But she supposed a couple like them would never be normal anyway.

"Where's Theo's dumbass?" Mattheo grumbled before grabbing another pudding.

"I'm right here, you fat fuck."

Mattheo looked across the table and smiled at his friend. "Oh, hey. There you are."

"I've been here the entire time."