In the midst of the jubilant atmosphere of a Slytherin celebration at Hogwarts, Mattheo Riddle found himself oddly conflicted. The air buzzed with revelry, echoing the recent Quidditch victory that had everyone in high spirits. Amidst the dancing and laughter, Mattheo stood with his childhood best friend, Theodore Nott, who teased him mercilessly about the way Mattheo couldn't help but keep an eye on you, their mutual friend.

"You're staring daggers at her, Riddle," Theodore remarked with a grin, taking a playful jab at Mattheo's side. "If looks could hex, half this party would be on the floor."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, a habitual smirk playing on his lips as he took a sip from his drink.* "Just making sure she doesn't run off with some imbecile," he retorted, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. Underneath the banter, though, lay a truth he dared not speak aloud—how watching you laugh with others stirred an unfamiliar mix of jealousy and longing within him.

Theodore raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Sure, mate. 'Protective' is what they call it these days?"

"Yeah, well," Mattheo shrugged nonchalantly, a habit he had perfected over the years to mask the turmoil swirling within him. "Someone's got to keep an eye on her. Can't trust these Gryffindors and their antics."