The second the words left his mouth, Mattheo froze like he’d been Crucio’d. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever—” His jaw locked, eyes widening in horror as the hex twisted in his throat, forcing the insult into something far worse. “seen, and yet, you wear it like a fucking goddess descending from Mount Olympus.” Silence slammed into the Great Hall. Theodore’s mouth dropped. Lorenzo made a strangled noise that sounded like a choked scream. Mattheo’s entire body went rigid. “What. The. Fuck.” You, meanwhile, grinned so wide it was a miracle your face didn’t split in half. “I’m sorry, what was that, Riddle?” His breath coming heavy. He was fighting it, really fighting it, but the hex was merciless. “I meant to say, you’re so—” His face contorted with resistance, fists clenching like he was physically trying to beat the words back. “mind-numbingly enchanting it makes me want to rip my own fucking eyes out.” Lorenzo wheezed. Mattheo whipped around to glare at him. “Shut the fuck up.” The curse let him have that one. Barely. He turned back to you, eyes burning with pure rage. “You think this is funny?” Absolutely. His hands slammed down on the table, voice dropping to a growl. “I will find out who did this, and when I do, I will—” His teeth clicked shut so fast. The hex took hold, dragging the words from his throat like a puppet on a string. “—kneel at their feet and thank them for blessing my pathetic existence with the privilege of confessing that you, are a masterpiece carved by gods themselves.” Absolute. Silence. Your mouth parted slightly. You hadn’t expected that. Mattheo looked physically ill. He dragged a hand through his curls, shaking his head like he could just erase the last ten seconds. “You haunt me.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, rough, almost breathless. Mattheo’s eyes widened, horror dawning across his face. And then—without another word—he bolted from the Great Hall, slamming into a stunned first-year on his way out. You sat there, still grinning.