The Great Hall had been transformed into an opulent ballroom, its ceiling glittering with stars. Yet no one paid attention to the decor. All eyes were on the two figures at the center of the floor—Mattheo Riddle and {{user}}.

Sworn enemies. Perfect dancers.

The sultry notes of Earned It by The Weeknd filled the hall, weaving through the charged air. Mattheo, draped in a dark suit with crimson accents, exuded danger, his tousled curls and sharp smirk captivating everyone watching. Girls along the edges whispered, their faces flushed.

“Look at him,” one murmured. “It’s not fair.”

“Even when they hate each other, they’re stunning,” another sighed.

But Mattheo ignored them, his focus entirely on {{user}}. Their steps moved in perfect harmony, every turn sharper than the last. He spun them effortlessly, his hand lingering against their back as he pulled them closer.

“You’re trembling,” Mattheo murmured, his voice low, meant only for them.

“It’s disgust,” you snapped, your tone as sharp as the movements.

Mattheo’s smirk widened, his breath brushing her cheek. “Sure, mi amor. Keep lying to yourself.”

Nearby, Harry Potter and Cho Chang—the so-called golden couple—stood forgotten in the crowd. Their picture-perfect image paled against the raw, electric tension between the two dancers.

As the music swelled, Mattheo leaned closer, his grip firm and possessive. His dark eyes burned with challenge, lips brushing near her ear. “Tell me, does hating me feel this good for you, too?”