┏ ೋღ : 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂. ೋღ ┓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓;

┗━━ ೋღ : ©-fictophilic : ೋღ ━━━┛

𝕻OTIONS WAS STRESSING YOU OUT, not because the coursework was too hard or because Snape constantly terrified you, but because you felt as if Mattheo had some sort of vendetta against you.

Spending the last half hour of class — and spending the last few days — he seemed to have a certain goal of pissing you off, and you had no idea why.

You didn't do anything against him. You've made no remarks or insults about him. You didn't petrify his best friend. You barely even talked to him. Why was he so set on annoying you?

Unbeknownst to you, it had been because Mattheo had the goal of making you show your true colors — a goal of proving to his friends that you weren't some innocent, quiet girl.

"The cuts aren't even," Mattheo noted, pointing down to the plant root that you were cutting.

"Well, uhm, they don't need to be even..." You replied lowly, your voice forcing itself through your clenched teeth. You kept your eyes off of him, thinking that not looking at him would help your self-control of not stabbing him in the eye with the knife you held.

"But they would look better, wouldn't they?" Mattheo asked, hiding a mischievous smirk behind an expression of an oblivious idiot.

Standing at the station diagonally in front of you and Mattheo, Pansy listened to your conversation as she watched her partner, Daphne, cut the plant root. Pansy sighed and rubbed her temple, wanting so badly to slam her head against the desk.

At the station in front of them, Lorenzo glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes at Mattheo, confused with his goal of pissing you off.

Truth be told, Mattheo had no care for talking to you, but when his friends had told him that his guess about you was wrong, he knew he just needed to prove himself right.

Spending the last few days, he spent several Potions classes just trying to annoy you. He knew he couldn't piss you off instantly, not when you spent the first two years of your time at Hogwarts developing the shy, cool-headed persona you currently had.

He was somewhat successful, having made you speak more often than you had before and talk in longer sentences than just one or two words.

For now, he was just waiting for a reaction — any reaction of anger, annoyance, or hostility.

"You're dropping it from too high up," Mattheo complained, covering his face with his arm for the dramatics. You stared at him in disbelief after you had dropped the chopped plant roots into the cauldron. "You're making a mess."

The tiniest drop of the unfinished potion had splashed onto the sleeve of his black robes. Peering down at the drop on his sleeve, he glanced up at you and raised his brows. "See. You've soiled my robes."

'Oh, I am going to—' Your thoughts were interrupted as you plastered an expression of faux concern.

"Oh Godric, I am so sorry... Here, just, uhm, stay back while I finish the assignment." You ushered him to back up and his brows bunched together as he took a step back. Sarcasm dripped from your tone like venom, but with your quiet voice, the hostility could only be heard by Mattheo while everyone around could only hear broken fragments of your sentence.

You turned around and subtly rolled your eyes, fixing your gaze back on the cauldron and focusing your attention on the assignment at hand, hoping Mattheo would take the hint to leave everything to you.

After you turned around and Mattheo was out of your sight, he tilted his head back to connect his eyes with Theodore's and Blaise's. "See?" Mattheo mouthed, earning confused expressions from the duo.

Theodore simply raised a questioning brow and Blaise mouthed back, "What are you on about?" Mattheo's eyes flickered to your tense figure and he nodded his head in your direction.

Not quite understanding what Mattheo was talking about, Blaise just shrugged and mouthed back, "She's... worried about soiling your robes?"

Mattheo rolled his eyes and internally facepalmed. Stepping beside you, he figured he'd need to push your limits to prove his friends wrong. Mattheo plastered on a charming smile and said, "It's alright, I can help."

Shaking your head, you placed yourself between Mattheo and the cauldron to block his way. Behind your figure, Mattheo's face bunched up into a 'this bitch' expression. "No, no... It's okay, I understand if you don't want to ruin your robes. Must be expensive. Couldn't afford to have it replaced just for my mistakes..."

'Did she just call me poor?' Mattheo internally questioned, gaping slightly at your audacity. "Was that an insult?"

"...What?" You questioned, glancing up at him with feigned innocence. 'Of course it was,' you thought, mentally rolling your eyes.

You blinked and your face contorted to act like you felt guilt and worry. A spew of words instantly left your mouth in a lie as if you totally didn't mean what you previously said. "Oh, no, no. Godric, no. I, uh, didn't mean it like that... I'm sorry..."

With his gaze flitting to Pansy, his eyes widened upon finding her glare piercing through his skull. "Stop it. Play nice," Pansy mouthed to him and emphasized harshly. "She's trying to be nice."

'No, she's not!' Mattheo internally screamed, not understanding how his friends couldn't read between the lines of your words. "She just insulted me!"

"Oh Godric, he is such a prick," you muttered, slamming yourself frustratedly into the seat next to Luna at the Ravenclaw table. The Great Hall was packed, everyone digging into the piles of food mounted in front of them for lunch before they'd have to leave their next class.

"Who?" Luna questioned, completely oblivious to the fact that you had been angrily ranting about the same person ever since Potions had ended five minutes ago.

"Riddle," Kyra answered shortly, sitting on the other side of you and setting her bag on the ground next to her feet. Just saying his name made her paranoid that he'd hex her at any possible second, and Kyra instinctively peered around her surroundings to make sure none of Mattheo's minions were present.

"Ooooh, what'd he do?" Marietta questioned, joining the conversation upon hearing the gossip. Cho sat beside her, also engaged in the conversation and curious as to what happened to get you so riled up.

"The entire time in Potions, he always had something to say," you complained, emphasizing the 'always'. You rolled your eyes and started piling food onto your plate. "'You're not cutting them evenly', 'you're dropping them from too high', 'you're making a mess'. He didn't even do anything for the entire class! He made me do all the work! Me, the one with a concussion! Granted, halfway through the class, I told him to leave it to me so I wouldn't have to deal with him, but after I said that, he seemed so set on 'helping'."

"Did you do something to him?" Cho questioned, inciting a head shake from you.

"Course not. He'd probably hex me," you uttered, shivering at the thought.

"I say curse him, throw some hands, break his nose, fix it up, then break it again," Marietta rambled excitedly, causing Cho to place a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Regardless of what he does, I say that you'd best avoid arguing with him," Kyra suggested, earning a shocked expression from Marietta and Cho.

"Not very in character of you, Kyra," Marietta commented, genuinely surprised at Kyra's suggestion of nonviolence.

"Oh, trust me, if it were anyone else, I'd say hex their dumb ass and tighten their tie to the point of suffocation," Kyra ranted, scaring a few first-years nearby who had overheard her words. "But this is Riddle. The one with the basilisk. The one who petrified and nearly killed people last year. I'd say it's best to just avoid him and play nice the best you can."

"I'd love to," you replied sarcastically. "But he's been on my back for a few days, and I don't think he's going to stop until he gets the reaction he's looking for."

"Maybe he will," Luna said as she smiled optimistically. "He'll probably find something better to do."

A moment passed, the clattering of silverware and plates filling the Great Hall. Your mouth opened and you admitted, "I may have... sort of... reacted already though..."

"What do you mean?" Kyra questioned.

"Like... 'sassy remark' react...?" Cho asked, slightly trailing off near the end of her sentence.

"Or 'fist to the face' react?" Marietta continued, trying to come up with suggestions on how to fix the situation.

"No. Merlin, never," you retorted and shook your head rapidly. "I just may have insinuated that he'd be too poor to buy new robes."

Marietta deadpanned. "Girl."

Cho shrugged and optimistically mentioned, "Maybe he didn't read it like that."

"No, he probably did," Kyra sighed. "That bloke's the definition of a Slytherin. He'd definitely understand when someone's trying to insult him. Why would you even say that? How on Earth would he be poor? He lives with the Malfoys."

You shrugged and muttered lowly, "Prick has no parents."

Kyra and Marietta coughed at the suddenness of the comment.

You sighed tiredly, your eyes trained on the words printed out clearly in your Charms textbook. While the words were clear, your mind couldn't comprehend or read what the textbook was saying. Rubbing your temple, you stifled a frustrated groan, though your usual Charms group could still hear it.

"Seems like someone's in a good mood," Fred commented as he was seated in front of you.

"Great mood actually," you corrected sarcastically.

"Oh? And why's that?" George questioned, sitting beside his brother. Your entire Charms group paused their reading to glance up at you, curious as to what's gotten you all worked up.

"Besides some nasty git in my Potions class who's been annoying me all week, I have piles of work to do for my classes," you sighed with a slight groan, tiredly rubbing your eyes. Despite not being particularly close with your Charms group, you were glad to rant about everything.

"I mean, I've gotten extensions for all of them because of the whole concussion thing, but it all eventually piled up. Since I'm not concussed anymore, I don't have an excuse, and Snape's going to have my head if I don't turn my essay in by tomorrow morning," you groaned, placing your head in your hands.

"That's terrible," Angelina commented sympathetically with a frown. "Snape's particularly hard to please as it is. I'm surprised he even gave you an extension despite your concussion."

"Might be because I'm a Ravenclaw," you stated and slightly shrugged. "He favors Slytherin. Hates Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw's just kinda there, so he may just not care."

"If you want, I could help you with your Potions essay," Cedric offered, charming as always. "Would after classes work? Before dinner?"

You beamed upon hearing his offer, but your smile immediately dropped upon remembering the tutoring session you had after school. "I can't. I've already gotten something planned." Despite the refusal, Cedric continued to smile, albeit more sympathetically for your situation.

"If it makes you feel any better..." Fred trailed off.

"Oliver's been gloomy all week," George continued, pointing in the direction of the Gryffindor captain.

"And last week!" Fred added on. Your eyes redirected to where George was pointing and you found Oliver with his arms on his desk and his head buried into his elbows.

"What's wrong with him?" Rowan questioned, not quite sugarcoating his words. While a bit blunt, he did voice out what you had been thinking as well.

"He's been taking the loss against Ravenclaw especially hard," Lee explained, releasing a quiet sigh.

"Kyra told me we offered to redo the match?" You stated, though it came out more like a question as a slight frown appeared on your face.

"Oh, don't worry, your team did," Angelina reassured, turning her gaze to you and nodding her head. "You guys won fair and square though."

"Not really..." You muttered, guilt welling up in your heart. Your eyes flickered to Oliver's depressed figure, feeling bad for the unfair Quidditch match, but you ultimately turned away to focus on your work.

Humming to the song that played in your ear, the slow and long strides of your legs led you to the back of the library. Hugged closely to your chest was a stack of books and your walkman. A bag hung over your shoulder and your headphones donned your head, playing the song 'Tainted Love' by the muggle duo 'Soft Cell'.

Your finger pads drummed along the edge of your textbook's spine to the beat of the song and you adjusted your bag to rest further up your shoulder. Rounding the corner of one of the bookshelves, you found the table in your little corner of the library — only you weren't the only one there, and it wasn't the person you were expecting either.

Hermione Granger sat there for a brief moment as she held onto her oddly shaped necklace. She began flickering wildly and your eyes widened in shock. Her eyes caught yours for a brief moment and her eyes blew wide open in surprise until she eventually disappeared out of thin air.

Dropping your headphones down to rest around your neck, your mouth went agape. With quickening steps, you neared the seat where the girl had just been sitting in.

Observing the area, everything had seemed to remain the same — except for the fact that the girl sitting in one of the chairs had just poofed.

With a sense of hesitation, you took a seat in your regular chair and peered around the area, setting your bag on the far end of the table next to the wall.

You had somewhat expected Hermione to appear out of nowhere, but upon seeing nothing happening, you pulled your headphones over your ears and cracked open your Potions textbook, setting your mind to focusing on finishing the essay.

Theodore appeared shortly after the little fiasco with Hermione's disappearance. Taking his usual seat across from you, he spread his pile of books across the surface of the table and selected his Charms textbook to lay in front of him. Next to his Charms textbook laid a copy of 'Wuthering Heights'.

Upon noticing his presence, you dropped your headphones down to your neck. Your eyes trailed up and caught sight of the muggle novel. "Last I checked, this wasn't a book club," you lightheartedly joked in an attempt to break the awkwardly thick ice, connecting your eyes with his.

His brows raised and an amused smirk played on his lips. "So I'm guessing you wouldn't like to know my thoughts on your little recommendation?"

Casting your gaze down to the cover of the book, you kissed your teeth and dropped your quill beside your paper before admitting, "Okay, okay. Let me hear them."

Lifting his copy, his eyes remained on the cover as he spoke, "Well, the characters are terrible."

"I know," you sighed, slightly shrugging.

"I like that, though," Theodore quickly added. "While the characters of Catherine and Heathcliff are self-absorbed, malicious, and overall just horrible, I think it makes them more human. Heathcliff, as much as he's annoying, his character's complex with how the world's affected him and made him so bitter and vengeful. I think his ending was suiting, with all the guilt catching up to him from the revenge he's taken."

"Thank you," you grumbled upon hearing his words, finally happy to meet someone else who enjoys flawed characters. "I think it's a nice break from the ever-so-perfect protagonists we usually get."

Theodore nodded. "However, that doesn't mean they're not annoying. I despised them."

You shook your head and blurted, "Don't worry. I thought the same thing. I hate them too."

"Plot-wise, I think it... was interesting," Theodore commented, though his tone was as if he was questioning himself. He glanced up at you and asked, "What genre was this supposed to be? I got hints that this was supposed to be romance, but I couldn't quite tell."

"It was," you nodded, confirming his confused thoughts. "Though I don't think of it as such, which is why I recommended it to you. Didn't think you'd be the type to like that sort of stuff."

He nodded in confirmation. "You would be right. Romance really isn't my cup of tea."

"I don't think it comes off as such," you noted, leaning forward in your wooden chair as you gazed at the book in his hand. Sucking in a breath, you gathered some courage to continue, "Catherine and Heathcliff's relationship is toxic, and just downright wrong. Neither of them truly deserves love, but the story has this poetic way of showing people the consequences of their actions. I like that the protagonists didn't end up together, and I'm glad they're dead."

"Well, damn," Theodore chuckled amusingly. His eyes flickered down to the book then back up to your eyes. "That's a very cruel way of thinking about it." You shrugged. "Overall, the book was decent. As you said, it was dark and horrid, in a poetic and beautiful sort of way. I didn't hate it. If I had to rate it, I'd give it a seven out of ten."

You smiled and leaned back slightly. "I can live with that."

"And what about you?" Theodore questioned, gesturing to the book that resided on the far end of the table next to your bag. "Thoughts on 'East of Eden'?"

Biting your tongue, a small smile bloomed on your face and you confessed, "I'd hate to admit it, but you have good taste in books."

Theodore shrugged and a proud,