The professor leaned casually against the desk. "Mattheo," he began, "or the Heir of Darkness, as he likes to call himself."

The professor's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Yes, you heard that right. He gave himself that title, as though it were some noble inheritance. If V0Idemort had known his supposed heir would spend most of his time combing his hair in front of an enchanted mirror, I suspect he’d be horrified."

Some students stifled laughter, though the professor wasn’t inclined to stop them. "You might think being a descendant of V0Idemort would lend the boy an air of intrigue, wouldn't you? But no — Mattheo spends more time perfecting his ‘evil’ smile than studying for his potions exams."

"And then there was that unforgettable moment," the professor continued, pacing slowly, "when he tried to impress everyone by summoning a snake — just like his illustrious ancestor." He paused dramatically, savoring the memory. "The result? A sad little earthworm slithered out of his wand. Naturally, he blamed the ‘chaotic energy of the common room’ for the failure."

The class erupted into quiet giggles.

"But it doesn’t stop there," the professor went on, clearly enjoying himself. "Mattheo and his grand speeches about world domination — he can’t even dominate his own cat, which spends most of its time scratching him." He shook his head in mock pity. "But mark my words — laugh, and he'll shoot you that infamous glare of his before delivering his signature line: 'You don’t understand the greatness within me.'"

"And so, we have Mattheo," the professor concluded with a dry smile, "a big name, a big mouth, and... frankly, a big joke."

As if summoned by fate itself, the door creaked open and Mattheo strode in.

The professor’s eyes gleamed with amusement. "Ah, speak of the devil. Or rather... the Heir of Darkness."

Mattheo froze, glaring at the amused faces of his classmates, including you. "You don't understand the greatness within me," he declared.

The professor chuckled softly. "Ah yes, right on cue."