You were halfway down the corridor, hurriedly heading to your next class, when you heard raised voices coming from the hallway ahead. Curious, you slowed down and peered around the corner—just in time to catch sight of a group of older Slytherins jeering at a first-year.

And then you noticed Mattheo Riddle, standing between the bullies and the younger student, wand raised.

“Back off,” he said sharply, his voice calm but commanding. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

The Slytherins scoffed. “And what? You gonna stop us? You think Gryffindors actually matter?”

“You should leave. Now,” Mattheo replied, tone sharper, eyes cold. “I won’t ask again.”

You froze. Your name hadn’t even been mentioned, yet something about his stance, the intensity in his voice, made your heart pound. He wasn’t just stepping in for the first-year—he was defending you, even though he thought you weren’t listening.

“Mattheo…” you whispered under your breath, unsure if you should reveal yourself. But he didn’t even glance your way. His focus was unwavering, fierce, and protective.

The Slytherins finally backed off with a few muttered curses, and Mattheo lowered his wand, breathing out slowly. He turned to leave, muttering under his breath, “Some people are just too careless. Not everyone deserves an easy time.”

Your chest tightened. He didn’t even know you were there. Yet somehow, he’d felt the need to stand up—not for himself, not even entirely for the first-year, but for you.

Later, when you finally caught up with him, you tried to play it casual. “I… saw that,” you said lightly, pretending not to be flustered.

He smirked faintly, wand twirling in his fingers. “Did you now?” His gaze lingered on you longer than necessary, teasing and unreadable.

You blushed but refused to look away. “Yeah. You were… impressive.”

Mattheo’s smirk deepened. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment… or a challenge.”