The courtyard is loud. Too loud for this early, honestly—but Hogwarts has never been good at quiet. Chatter bounces off the ancient walls, a chaotic blend of gossip, homework complaints, and the rustle of robes.

You’re half-listening to a classmate talk about their disastrous Potions essay when it happens.

A shout, sharp and angry. A hard shove that sends a younger Slytherin stumbling back into a group of Hufflepuffs. Then—

A fight.

Not unusual. What is unusual? Him.

Mattheo Riddle. You don’t know him personally—just by reputation. Everyone does. Loud. Reckless. The kind of person people either avoid or regret not avoiding sooner.

Your stomach twists. There’s something unsettling about how easy it is for him. Like this is normal. Like this is fun.

Mattheo’s gaze, sharp and assessing, flicks lazily across the gathering ring of spectators—and for half a second, it lands on you.