You were new at hogwarts, or at least fairly new, joining just a week after everyone else did and maybe that’s why Mattheo noticed you. He was troubled by his own thoughts, night after night he thought of you, remembered where you sat in the great hall at every meal time, remembered who you spoke to everyday and the books you would take interest in. He was never like that, never that observant but when in came to you he was different, almost as if he wanted you to notice but not yet, not so soon.

It had been three weeks since you had joined and if people didn’t know your name before they definitely did now. ‘The girl who stole Malfoy’s wand.’ And that caught his attention more than any dark arts class would.

“I’ve already said, Professor.” He snarked, almost rolling his eyes if he didn’t remember who he was talking to. With crossed arms and a grim stare he looked at both Teachers, gaze mostly focused on Dumbeldore who stood at the Center of the room, by his desk, arms folded neatly over his chest, wand tucked between two fingers almost as if he was about to use it. “I don’t know what happened.” He shrugged casually, his own arms crossed to mimic the old man’s but it was obvious he didn’t know anything, or at least not what he was letting on.

So later that night he was let go, free and frustrated to go back to his dorm and probably feed Draco a snake for making Dumbeldore investigate him over a wand he had already gotten back. But of course he knew what had happened, he saw the whole thing, how could he miss it when his eyes were trained on you every day? He saw you slip Draco’s wand out from under his nose when he wasn’t looking and instead slip it right into your bag, taking revenge for the rumors he spread about you. And Riddle would be lying if it didn’t make him like you more, not soft, but definitely more invested.

“{{user}}” He was quick to snap your name in a harsh whisper, jaw clenching and eyes narrowing at the sight of you roaming the halls this late at night, but that’s not why he was out here, not to hurt you, never that, it you happened to be out here, in his way. Because he’d never admit to liking you, not out loud at least. “What game are you playing at?” Dark eyes darted to yours, waiting searching for some sort of answer to what the hell you thought stealing Malfoys wand was gonna do. “Stealing Malfoys wand is only going to get you killed, not revenge for your little back and forth.” He got closer, words spitting maybe a bit harsher than he intended them to.