A shift in fate | Mattheo Riddle

Fourteen

"Miss Moonvale. Miss Bennett," she said in a dangerously calm voice. "How kind of you to finally join us."

I forced a breathless smile. "Good morning, Professor," I said, attempting to sound at least a little put-together.

Jane, next to me, was practically holding her breath.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Morning would have been when class began, Miss Moonvale. You are fifteen minutes late."

Fifteen?!

"We—uh—" Jane started, but McGonagall held up a hand, silencing her instantly.

"I sincerely hope you two have an excellent reason for your tardiness," she continued, her eyes glinting. "Perhaps a life-threatening one?"

I glanced at Jane, internally screaming.

I had two choices: tell the truth (we overslept because we were gossiping about my love life and snogging Draco Malfoy)—or lie.

And I was not about to tell the truth.

"Professor, we—uh—we had a bit of a situation in the dorm," I started, my mind racing. "Our alarm clocks—both of them—completely stopped working. We had no idea what time it was!"

Jane nodded furiously, backing me up. "Yeah! So weird, right? Almost like—like magic gone wrong!"

A few students snickered.

McGonagall simply stared.

After what felt like years, she let out a long sigh. "Take your seats," she said, waving a hand. "Quietly."

I didn't need to be told twice. Jane and I practically threw ourselves into two empty seats—right next to Theo, Lorenzo, and Draco.

"You two are a disaster," Theo muttered, smirking.

Lorenzo snorted. "I was about to start planning your funerals."

Draco leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head as he eyed me with an infuriating smirk. "Well, well, look who finally decided to show up. Late and already making a scene—classic Moonvale."

I rolled my eyes, dropping into my seat. "Oh, please, Malfoy. Don't act like my absence had you all lost and hopeless."

Theo let out a low whistle, and Lorenzo raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised by my sharp response. Draco, however, only grinned wider. "Lost? No. But hopeless?" He tilted his head, giving me a once-over. "You do make class a little more bearable."

I opened my mouth to respond, but I felt something shift in the air. Usually, if I was bantering with Draco, Mattheo would be watching—staring, even—his dark eyes locked on me with that intense expression he always wore.

But this time, he wasn't looking at me at all.

He sat stiffly in his seat, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists on the desk. His usual smirk was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he looked... furious. But he refused to meet my gaze.

I turned back to Draco with a smirk of my own. "Well, try to keep up, Malfoy. Wouldn't want you falling behind."

Draco let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You wish, Moonvale."

Before I could respond, Professor McGonagall tapped her wand against the blackboard, instantly silencing the room. The spell we'd be practicing today appeared in neat cursive script: Avifors – the art of transfiguring objects into birds.

"As you should already know," McGonagall began, pacing in front of the classroom, "Avifors requires precision, concentration, and above all—control." Her sharp gaze flickered across the room, lingering on a few students who were notorious for their lack of said control. "We'll be starting with something simple—matchsticks. If you cannot successfully transfigure a matchstick into a bird, I assure you, you will not be attempting it on anything larger."