You shouldn’t be here. Every Hogwarts student knew that. But the forest had a pull, a curiosity that hummed in your veins, and tonight it had led you deeper than you’d ever meant to go.

The grove appeared suddenly, a small clearing where the trees seemed to lean away. In its center stood a weathered stone, taller than you, its surface etched with runes you didn’t recognize. They glowed faintly, a pale silver light that pulsed like a slow, sleeping heartbeat.

The air around the stone shimmered, distorting the twilight like heat over a flame. It was beautiful, and utterly wrong.

A twig snapped behind you.

Mattheo Riddle stood at the edge of the clearing, his silhouette sharp against the darkening trees. His tie was loose, his school robes open, and his storm-grey eyes were fixed on you with an intensity that felt like a physical touch.