Terms and Conditions · Y/n story by @cithoney

The Great Hall smelled of bacon, pumpkin juice, and the faint, ever-present dampness of the castle. Morning light streamed through the enchanted ceiling, illuminating floating dust motes and the bustling student body.

Lorenzo Berkshire

See that one?

Mattheo Riddle didn't look up from carefully buttering his toast, his expression one of bored indifference.

Mattheo Riddle

See who, Enzo? Be specific. The place is crawling with them.

Lorenzo Berkshire

The one in the Ravenclaw robes. Sitting alone, reading. Y/n.

Mattheo’s dark eyes finally lifted, scanning the Ravenclaw table until they landed on the solitary figure. He took in the unassuming posture, the focus on the book, the complete lack of interest in the social theater of breakfast.

Mattheo Riddle

A dismissive flick of his wrist And?

Lorenzo Berkshire

I don't think you could do it.

Mattheo Riddle

He finally set his knife down, a slow, arrogant smirk spreading across his face. Do what, exactly?

Lorenzo Berkshire

Get them to go out with you. I don't think they'd give you the time of day.

A few nearby Slytherins, including Pansy Parkinson, who had been eavesdropping, let out soft, scandalized giggles. Mattheo’s smirk didn't falter, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

Mattheo Riddle

You're joking.

Lorenzo Berkshire

I'm dead serious. I'll wager fifty Galleons you can't get a 'yes' within two weeks. They're... different. Immune to all this. He gestured vaguely at Mattheo's entire being.

Mattheo leaned back, his gaze returning to Y/n. He studied them for a long, calculating moment, the cogs of a new, entertaining game turning behind his eyes.

Mattheo Riddle

Two weeks? He chuckled, a low, confident sound. You're on, Berkshire. This'll be the easiest fifty Galleons I've ever made.