round one
2 september 1996
Mattheo's POV
I'm late. Second class of the term and I'm already late. Not that anything important is done in the first lesson of term, just lectures about O.W.L.s and starting to make something of ourselves. Personally, I'll pass.
I move leisurely through the now empty corridors of Hogwarts as I make my way to McGonagall's classroom. Some first year runs past me, probably lost, and I sigh. Everyone is always so happy to come back to the castle in the fall. Sure Hogwarts is better than being at home but I'm still counting down the days until I'm completely free. I reach the doors to the Transfiguration classroom and check my watch, 5 minutes late. I shoulder open the door and step into the classroom. At the noise, everyone's heads turn to me.
"Mr. Riddle! You are late. 5 points from Slytherin," McGonagall's voice cuts through the air.
"Apologies, Professor," I say dryly, kicking the door closed behind me and scan the room for empty seats.
"Well come in, let's not delay any further. There is an empty seat up here next to Miss Potter," McGonagall says, turning back to the papers in her hand. My eyes find the empty seat right next to Miss Perfect herself. I sigh and drop into the seat next to her, eyeing her carefully. Her jaw is clenched and her shoulders tight, clearly making an effort to ignore my presence.
Euphemia Potter. Gryffindor Princess and Little Miss Perfect. She and her brother are the most self righteous people I've ever met. When the Potters break rules, they win house points, awards and are called heroes; when Slytherins break the same rules, we lose house points and get our arses thrown in detention. Euphemia spends her free time running around with the Weasley Twins, setting pranks and causing havoc for the rest of the student body, in particular Slytherins. But the princess never gets caught and if she does, she just bats her eyelashes, tosses her auburn hair over her shoulder and is off the hook. Her brother isn't any better. I spent most of last term being blamed for opening the Chamber of Secrets (which I had never heard of in my life) but innocent little Harry Potter just happens to actually find it, kill a basilisk out of pure luck and starts telling everyone he saw the ghost of a young Tom Riddle, my late father. All just in time for the end of term. Two words: Dragon Shit.
I look at Euphemia out of the corner of my eye, watching her studiously listen to whatever McGonagall is droning on about. The worst part of Euphemia? She's drop dead gorgeous. Most of the guys in this school want her and she fucking knows it. And no matter how much I hate her, I can't deny that the curve of her figure, the fullness of her lips, and the way her auburn hair highlights the bright green of her eyes is about as perfect of an appearance as you can get. As she listens to the lecture, she fiddles with the ring on her left pointer finger and I catch a glimpse of the infamous lighting scar on her wrist, the one she shares with her brother. Although I don't understand why his is on his forehead and hers is on my wrist.
Euphemia and I have been at odds since our third year. Before that, she was quiet and more shy; preferring to study in the library and read more than anything else. I didn't like her then, but she was tolerable. She and her friends stayed out of my way and we minded our own business. Third year rolls around, however, and Harry comes to Hogwarts and all anyone can talk about is the Potter siblings. That year, Euphemia went from a quiet and studious person, to the bane of my existence. She'd joined the Quidditch team, quickly becoming an impressive chaser, and came out of her shell over the summer and suddenly guys wanted her and girls wanted to be her. Me? I just wanted to kill her. She got it into her head that I was the one trying to get some magic stone Dumbledore had hidden in the castle to bring back my father, as if I want that, and basically threatened me.
Yes my father was Voldemort and yes, sometimes I use that fact to my advantage to get my way but I don't buy into any of the shit my father stood for. I may not remember him, but the scars on my mother's back tell me all I need to know about the piece of shit. I don't really care about blood purity or any of that crap but to have any kind of power in Slytherin, you better at least act like you do. Especially if your last name is Riddle.
Euphemia turns her head suddenly, eyes meeting mine as she raises her eyebrow at me. Shit, she caught me staring. I hold her eyes for a moment before turning back to McGonagall. She turns back to front too and sighs slightly, as if me looking at her actually bothers her.
After a very long and dry lecture by McGonagall about her expectations and plan for the year, the period ends. Euphemia stands quickly, moving to stand with her groupies. The Weasley twins-- I couldn't tell them apart if my life depended on it and they are equally irritating so really what's the point--stare daggers at me before they turn to leave the classroom with Potter. I sigh and roll my eyes, turning to my friends, gathered out in the hall. Elladora, Evan, and Theo are out in the hall. I make eye contact with Theo and give him a nod as I approach.
"Oh!" Elladora exclaims as she pretends to faint into Evan's arms. Evan and Ella laugh loudly. Ever since hearing the rumor that both the Potters fainted on the train yesterday began circulating, Ella has been relentless. She despises Euphemia more than anyone. "Salazar! How could anyone be so pathetic?" Ella turns to face Euphemia, whose face is stoic although her eyes are fiery. She levels Ella with a defiant stare and turns away rolling her eyes, seemingly unaffected.
"Aw you hurt the princess' feelings," Evan laughs cruelly, nudging Ella with his shoulder as we start making our way to the Great Hall for lunch.
"Good! She's so pathetic. Can you imagine fainting because you're too afraid of a dementor? Big and scary Potter is finally showing her true colors," Ella continues, laughing maniacally.
"Ella, stop! Dementors are horrid no matter how brave you are," Astoria pipes up, joining us in the hall. Astoria, unlike the rest of us, is friends with Potter and often defends her to the rest of us.
"Still, it is kinda funny," Theo adds as we sit down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.
"You don't even know if it's true," Astoria argues.
"So what? As long as it gets under the princess' skin!" Ella laughs with Evan.
"Gets under whose skin?" Lorenzo asks, taking a seat next to me.
"Don't ask," I grumble, not wanting Euphemia Potter to infiltrate my brain anymore than necessary.
"Euphemia Potter," Theo supplies to Enzo before turning his gaze to me as I grab some food from the center of the table. "What's got your wand in a knot? Sitting next to the hottest girl in school messing with your head already?"
I flip Theo off and take a bit of my apple.
"You're sitting next to her now?" Enzo asks, trying to hide his surprise.
"I got to class late. Only desk open."
"Matt, you're already gathering tardies? We've had two classes!" Astoria exclaims, looking at me disappointedly.
"Sorry, Mum," I retort sarcastically.
"So not only are you going to be doing rounds with Potter twice a week, but you're sitting next to her in classes now too?" Evan smirks, probably concocting a little story to entertain himself.
"He's going soft," coos Ella mockingly.
"Fuck off, Ella," I say, my temper starting to rise causing me to grind my teeth.
"They're gonna fuck!" Evan pronounces, causing Enzo and Theo to laugh.
"HA! I'll take that bet," Enzo laughs through a bite of food. I level Enzo with a glare, causing him to raise his hands in mock surrender.
"C'mon Matt, you can't deny you want a piece of that!" Evan outlines the shape of a woman with his hands, making lewd faces as he does.
"She's not a pie and you're disgusting," Astoria deadpans.
"Euphemia Potter is nothing but a spoiled brat. You can have my piece, Ev," I grumble, grabbing my bag and standing. I've had enough tormenting for one day and I still have to deal with prefect rounds tonight. I need some quiet.
✦ ✦ ✦
Later that evening, I emerge from my room, needing to meet Euphemia for our first prefect rounds. I ignore someone calling my name as I make my way through the common room and push my way through the Slytherin dorm entrance. Standing, directly on the other side of the corridor, is Euphemia Potter. "Good let's go," I say curtly and continue walking down the hall. The first hour passes agonizingly slowly. Apart from a few words from Potter and some grunts of acknowledgement, we pass the time in tense silence. I watch the girl from the side of my eye. At some point during the day, she pulled her long auburn hair back from her face and into a ponytail but her uniform is as prim and perfect as it was this morning.
"Stop staring at me," she says suddenly, not turning to look at me.
"I wasn't," I grumble.
"Oh good, you can still speak. I was getting worried you had lost your command of the English language," she says, her tone haughty as her eyes flick to me for a moment.
"Just not willing to share my talents with the likes of you." She rolls her eyes in response and turns away, peering down a dark corridor as we pass by. "Did you really faint?" I say suddenly and, to be honest, I'm not really sure why. She keeps walking but her posture stiffens as if readying for a blow.
"You've barely made a sound all night and you open with that? What, have you been working up the nerve to ask?"
"Did you?" I press. While I admit I do enjoy riling Potter up, there's a genuine curiosity there too.
"Why are you asking?" She asks, stopping to turn to face me, her arms crossed over her chest. She looks up at me, her expression guarded and defiant.
"Why are you avoiding the question?" I challenge. Her jaw flexes as her eyes search my face and she takes a measured breath.
"Yes, I did and I'm not ashamed. And no matter how much you and your friends try to make me feel ashamed I won't." Euphemia speaks quickly. I didn't actually think she'd admit it and I can't hide the smirk forming on my face.
"Never seen you admit a weakness before, Princess," I chuckle, continuing our walk of the corridors.
"Don't call me princess!" She snaps after me, trailing along in my wake. "And it is not a weakness."
"Whatever you have to tell yourself, princess," I retort, enjoying the reaction I'm getting.
"Did you even see the dementor? I bet it didn't even come close to you," she grumbles, catching up to me. I don't respond. Truthfully, my friends and I didn't see it and didn't even know why the train had stopped until we were almost at the station but I'll be cursed before I tell her that. "You didn't, did you?" Euphemia continues to press, chuckling when I don't respond. "Godric, that is so typical of you lot. Making fun of things you know nothing about. Do you ever-"
"Shut up, Potter. You don't know anything about me!" I snap, grinding my teeth.
"Oh yes, and you know all about me, right? You know everything. The great Mattheo Riddle, who is smarter and better than everyone else. No one else could possibly suffer because you have the monopoly on pain!" She rants, sarcasm and disdain leaking into her tone.
"Oh like you know pain," I snap, "The Perfect Potters have it so hard! Everyone loves you and lets you do whatever you want."
"You don't know anything about me or what I've been through!" She yells, turning to face me, anger and fire in her eyes.
"Please! Don't give me the whole orphan act, I bet you don't even remember any of it!" I yell back. I raise my hand, waving it through the air as if to brush her off, but as I do, the perfect and fearless Euphemia Potter does something I don't expect. She flinches.
Just for a second, her shoulders tighten and she stiffens, as if preparing for a blow, and fear flashes in her eyes. But then it's gone, hidden back under the mask of anger and loathing. I lower my hand slowly, examining her face. We watch each other for a long moment before she takes a step towards me, glaring up at me defiantly. "I remember plenty."
She holds my gaze for a long moment before turning away and continuing down the hall. We walk in tense silence for the rest of our shift. As round the last corner, Potter turns to head up the flight of stairs on our left. "Meet me outside Gryffindor Common Room on Thursday," she calls over her shoulder as she stares up the stairs, not sparing a glance back my way as she walks out of sight.