Mattheo Riddle was already on thin ice.

You knew it the second he strolled into class twenty minutes late, looking like he’d rolled straight out of a fight—and probably had. His tie was missing, his shirt half unbuttoned, and the faint scent of smoke clung to him like a bad habit.

McGonagal didn’t even look up. “Take your seat, Mr. Riddle.”

The last empty chair was beside you.

He grinned when he saw that, slow and lazy, like this was some grand joke. You sat stiffly as he dropped into the seat, stretching his arms behind his head before slumping forward onto the desk like he might take a nap.

You ignored him.

Today’s assignment: transforming a beetle into a button. Simple. You had already read about it the night before, already perfected the wand movement in your head.

Mattheo, meanwhile, was flicking his beetle across the desk like it was a game.

You glanced at him, unimpressed. He caught the look and smirked.

Then, before you could stop him, he plucked the beetle off the desk—

And popped it into his mouth.

You froze.

Across the room, Lorenzo and Theodore choked on their laughter as Mattheo chewed thoughtfully, as if considering the taste.

McGonagal sighed sharply. “Mr. Riddle—”

He swallowed, smirking. “Problem solved. No more beetle.”

You stared at him, horrified.

McGonagal pinched the bridge of her nose. “Detention, both of you.”

Mattheo just turned to you, grinning like an idiot.