Always and forever- Matteo Riddle

As I made my way toward the Slytherin table, I could already feel the tension.

Mattheo, Theo, Draco, Blaise, Enzo, and the others sat huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. But the moment they spotted me approaching, their conversation abruptly stopped.

I ignored the way my stomach twisted at that.

Sliding into the empty space beside Theo, I set my plate down and tried to act normal. "Hey."

No one responded.

I glanced around the table. "So, we're still doing this, huh?"

Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Theo just poked at his food with his fork. Blaise refused to look at me entirely.

And Mattheo?

He stared at his plate, jaw clenched so tightly I thought he might break a tooth.

I let out a humorless laugh, leaning back slightly. "You do know I can tell when I'm being ignored, right?"

Nothing.

I scoffed. "Unbelievable."

Theo finally spoke up, though his voice was quiet. "Not now, okay?"

"Not now?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You've been avoiding me all day—when exactly is 'now'?"

Again, no answer.

Frustration flared in my chest. "Is someone gonna tell me what the hell is going on, or am I just supposed to pretend everything's fine?"

Still, silence.

I turned to Mattheo. "You at least gonna say something?"

His grip on his fork tightened.

For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore me, too.

But then he finally lifted his head, eyes locking onto mine. And the look he gave me?

It wasn't anger.

It wasn't annoyance.

It was something else entirely.

Something pained.

But instead of answering me, he simply shook his head. "Drop it."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Right. Because that worked so well last time."

His eyes darkened. "I mean it."

I stared at him for a long moment, searching his face.

Then I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "Fine. Whatever."

Pushing my plate away, I stood up. "Enjoy your little secret meeting."

And with that, I walked away, not bothering to look back.

As I stormed out of the Great Hall, frustration still bubbling in my chest, I suddenly remembered—I had to go to Dumbledore's office.

It was my first official training session. The first step in preparing for the war. The first step in preparing to face him.

I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting.

This was real now.

Taking a deep breath, I changed course, making my way through the castle's dim corridors toward the Headmaster's office. When I reached the entrance, the stone gargoyle stood unmoving, waiting for the password.

I racked my brain, trying to remember what it was this time. Dumbledore had a habit of changing it often.

Then it hit me.