The Riddle of Us *Mattheo x Reader*

Quote of the Chapter: "It's none of your business"

It was the weekend again, and Y/n had arranged to spend the day with Pansy. This time, they'd planned to visit the newly opened broom shop, Ben's Boundless Brooms. Y/n wasn't particularly enthusiastic about flying, but she figured she might as well see what all the fuss was about. Besides, Pansy had insisted.

Before they set off, Y/n made sure to have one very important conversation.

"Pans, you are not wearing heels again."

Pansy huffed, folding her arms. "I need to break them in at some point."

"Not today. Just—just do it in the spring, yeah? When we're not trekking through the bloody village."

"Alright, alright," Pansy grumbled, rolling her eyes as she begrudgingly swapped them for something more practical. "But I swear, if anyone sees me like this—"

"They won't care," Y/n interrupted, linking her arm through Pansy's. "Now, come on before the boys leave without us."

As they walked down to Hogsmeade with the others, Draco, who had been mysteriously 'sick' earlier in the week, seemed to be back to full health. He was up ahead with Mattheo, Crabbe, and Goyle, talking animatedly about something Y/n didn't particularly care about.

Still, she couldn't resist calling out, "Dear brother! Did you do all of your work? You know how Mother and Father feel about you falling behind just because you were—" she paused for effect, then did air quotes, "'sick.'"

Draco shot her a glare over his shoulder. "I was sick."

Y/n gave him a pointed look, unimpressed. "Oh, sure you were."

"Alright, maybe I was being a bit overdramatic," he admitted grudgingly, "but I was ill."

"Of course," she replied, lips twitching into a smirk.

When they finally reached Ben's Boundless Brooms, the shop was bustling with excited students. The newest models—Firebolt, Nimbus 2001, and even a prototype of a Nimbus 2002—were displayed prominently at the front, polished to perfection and practically gleaming under the enchanted lights.

There were also rows of Quidditch gear: Beaters' bats, thick gloves, helmets, enchanted protective pads. But some of the equipment was less familiar. Y/n picked up a pair of 'Sticky Chaser Gloves' and raised an eyebrow. Wasn't that just cheating? Next to them, a sign advertised 'Portable Goalposts for Travel' and 'Broom Cushion Charms—Never Fly Uncomfortably Again!'

"Imagine being such a pampered little git that you need a cushion for your broom," Y/n muttered, shaking her head as she put the gloves back.

Mattheo, who had been eyeing a set of sleek, custom grip handles, turned to her with a smirk. "You say that now, but I bet if you ever actually played, you'd be the first one buying one."

"Doubtful," she shot back. "If I was ever forced onto a broom, I'd just suffer in silence like a normal person."

"Or, hear me out," he leaned in slightly, "you could just admit you're scared of flying."

Y/n scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him. "I am not scared of flying. I simply prefer to keep both feet firmly on the ground."

Pansy hummed in agreement beside her. "Honestly, Y/n, I don't know why you even came in here."

"I was dragged," she replied dryly.

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, who had been perusing the Firebolt display, suddenly wandered off without a word. Not that Y/n really noticed, because Mattheo was still smirking at her like he knew something she didn't.