But the biggest secret wasn't much of a secret at all.

Mattheo Riddle was hopelessly in love. With you, obviously.

The two of you had been together for years, and the entire Slytherin table had grown accustomed to Mattheo's ridiculous behavior. The boy who regularly threatened people for looking at him wrong was currently stealing food from your plate.

Nearby, Pansy Parkinson watched with barely concealed irritation. Daphne and Astoria exchanged a glance. They'd watched this little arrangement for years.

The girl who somehow had everything. The boys' affection, their loyalty, and Mattheo Riddle's entire heart.

Tonight, they intended to change that.

A small vial. A carefully planned distraction. A few drops in the right glass.

It was supposed to be harmless. It wasn't supposed to go too far.

Across the Great Hall, the evening continued normally. Candles floated overhead, conversations echoed between the tables, and Mattheo leaned closer to you, murmuring something that made Lorenzo groan.

Then you reached for your drink.

Took a sip.

Coughed.

And suddenly, you couldn't breathe.

Mattheo was on his feet before anyone understood what was happening.

And somewhere across the table, three girls went deathly pale.