It was supposed to be a simple Charms practice. You were practicing a minor spell you’d read about in one of your extra textbooks, excited to try it in front of the class.

Mattheo Riddle, of course, was sitting across from you, looking flawless as always, wand at the ready, eyes sharp with that signature smirk.

“Careful,” he said, voice smooth. “I doubt you can impress me with a basic charm.”

“Oh, I don’t need to impress you,” you replied, rolling your eyes, just as the spell shot out of your wand.

Except, instead of affecting the small feather on your desk, it ricocheted. And hit Mattheo square in the head.

The classroom froze.

Mattheo’s hair—perfect, dark, untouchable—was now a bright, shocking shade of pink.