A shift in fate | Mattheo Riddle

Song:  2 hands- Tate McRae

Today was going to be very interesting. Between the absolutely stupid bet I made with Mattheo and the fact that I now had to endure an entire day of school with him looking at me like I was his next meal, I was in for hell. The last few classes went by in a blur, mostly filled with stolen glances, smirks, and—because my friends were actual children—Blaise and Sebastian making the filthiest hand gestures they could come up with whenever Mattheo and I locked eyes.

Now, we had Potions. And if there was one class I was determined to survive without issue, it was this one. The last thing I needed was Snape breathing down my neck, taking points from our house just because he woke up in an especially miserable mood. So, I made the strategic decision to sit next to Khai instead of one of the usual suspects who thrived on chaos.

For about two minutes, I actually thought I'd made the right choice.

And then, of course, I remembered that I'm not allowed to have peace.

Snape stalked to the front of the classroom, his black robes billowing dramatically, his face locked in its usual expression of I hate everything and everyone in this room. As he scanned the class, the sheer force of his disappointment in our existence practically suffocated us into silence. No one dared to speak under his gaze.

Then, in his signature bored-yet-terrifying monotone, he announced, "Today, we will be discussing a particularly powerful potion—Amortentia."

Cue Hermione Granger, whose hand snapped into the air so fast I was genuinely concerned she might dislocate her shoulder. Snape, looking as though he was already regretting his life choices, sighed heavily and gave her a reluctant nod.

She practically vibrated with excitement as she answered, "It's the most powerful love potion in the world. It's rumored to smell differently to each person, based on what attracts them."

Snape closed his eyes briefly, as if asking the universe why he had to witness this. "Correct, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor."

He sounded so pained giving out house points that I half expected him to deduct ten just to balance out his suffering.

Meanwhile, the second Hermione mentioned the whole "smells different to each person" thing, Jane was already elbowing me, her grin so wide I was convinced her face would get stuck that way. I rolled my eyes, trying desperately to ignore the way Mattheo was already watching me with an all-too-smug expression.

And, of course, because my life was a living, breathing joke, Snape ordered everyone to gather around the cauldron at the back of the room.

Which meant, naturally, Mattheo made it his personal goal to stand next to me.

"I do wonder, Moonvale, what yours is gonna smell like," he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement.

I tilted my head, plastering on my sweetest fake smile. "Same here, Riddle. I'm guessing mint, green apples, and musk—because, you know, that's what Draco smells like."

His smirk immediately dropped, replaced by an eye roll so dramatic it could've powered a wind turbine. "Hilarious," he muttered.

Before he could get the chance to retort, Snape cleared his throat, and just like that, the entire class fell silent. His signature look of absolute disdain swept over us before he spoke.

"I will now be asking some of you to volunteer. I will not tolerate whining, stalling, or any other foolish behavior." His cold gaze landed on the unluckiest victim. "Mr. Weasley, step forward."