A shift in fate | Mattheo Riddle

Song: Dress- Taylor Swift

The castle hallways were unusually quiet as I made my way toward the Slytherin common room, the distant echoes of celebration still humming through the walls. The party was already in full swing—drunken Slytherins, overflowing firewhiskey, and, of course, Mattheo fucking Riddle acting like I didn't exist.

I should've been relieved.

Instead, I was pissed.

The fact that I even cared about his ridiculous tantrum made it ten times worse. He had no right to act like that. No right to get jealous over me hugging Draco, of all people. And yet, here I was, fuming over the way he stormed off like a fucking child.

If he wanted to act like a jealous asshole, fine. But if he thought that was bad?

He had no idea what was coming next.

A slow smirk tugged at my lips as a plan formed in my mind—one that would make him seethe. You want something to be jealous about, Riddle? I'll give you something.

But first, I needed to look the part.

Instead of heading straight into the common room, I slipped away unnoticed, taking the back route toward the dorms. Everyone was already at the party, meaning I had the room to myself. Perfect.

I made quick work of stripping down and stepping into the steaming hot shower. I let the water soothe my skin, washing away every bit of frustration from earlier. I scrubbed my body, massaged my favorite shampoo through my hair, and took my time, letting the heat relax my muscles. By the time I stepped out, steam filled the entire bathroom, the mirror fogged over.

I wrapped a towel around myself and padded over to my closet, my eyes immediately landing on the dress.

A black mini dress, simple but devastating. Just the right amount of tight. Just the right amount of skin.

I smirked, grabbing it off the hanger. Perfect.

After slipping into the dress, I focused on my makeup—dark, sultry eyeshadow that made my blue eyes pop, a hint of shimmer on my cheekbones, and a deep nude gloss. I let my long blonde curls fall naturally over my shoulders, effortlessly framing my face.

Now for the final touch.

I reached for my body oil—the one laced with just enough shimmer to catch the light perfectly—running it over my collarbones, shoulders, and legs. A spritz of my favorite perfume later, and I was done.

I gave myself one last look in the mirror.

With my black mini Coach bag slung over my shoulder, I finally made my way back toward the common room. The music was already pulsing through the thick doors, a mix of laughter and voices echoing from inside. The second I stepped in, the warmth of the party hit me, along with the buzz of excitement in the air.

No one had noticed me yet.

Perfect.

I scanned the room, my eyes locking onto my usual group—Jane, Pansy, and Khai—all huddled by the drinks, deep in conversation.

I took a slow step forward, and made my way towards my friends.

Three heads snapped in my direction.

"Bloody hell, Vienna," Pansy gaped, her eyes raking over me. "You look like an actual fucking smoke show."

Jane let out a low whistle. "I'm sorry, but are we all just going to pretend we don't know exactly who this is for?" She crossed her arms, raising a knowing eyebrow.