Across the room, Mattheo Riddle was the picture of careless arrogance, one hand draped over the back of the sofa where Pansy Parkinson sat. He was laughing at something Blaise Zabini said, but his eyes, dark and intense, flickered toward you for a fractured second before looking away.

Mattheo chose that moment to stand, stretching with a predator's grace. His gaze swept the room and landed on you, a challenge glinting in the emerald-tinted shadows.