Mattheo was halfway down the dungeon corridor when a voice he hoped he’d never hear again sliced through the air.
“Mattie?”
He froze. He turned. And there she was — his ex. Smirking like she owned him.
She stepped closer, twirling a strand of hair. “Miss me?”
“No,” Mattheo deadpanned.
She laughed like he was joking and traced a finger down his sleeve. “Oh come on. You used to beg me not to leave Hogwarts.”
Mattheo recoiled. “And I regret it every day.”
Her smile sharpened. “You still want me. I can tell.”
He rolled his eyes. “You can’t tell anything.”
But she still strutted toward the Slytherin common room, expecting him to follow. He didn’t want to. But you were inside.
The wall slid open. She walked in first, confident… until she saw you.
You were curled up on the green velvet couch, one of Mattheo’s sweaters drowning your frame, a hand resting absently on your small baby bump as you read.
Her face twisted immediately — ugly, sour, offended.
Then she turned to Mattheo and said, dripping with disdain:
“Who is that pregnant girl, Mattie?”
Mattheo didn’t hesitate.
He stepped in front of you so fast she flinched.
His voice dropped, dark and dangerous: “Watch your tone.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t speak about her like that,” he said, jaw tight. “Ever.”
He didn’t even look at her again. He walked straight to you.
“Hey,” he murmured, brushing your shoulder gently. “You okay?”
You nodded, smiling, unaware of the storm behind him.
The ex stared, stunned. “You can’t be serious. Her? You’re with her?”
Mattheo turned slowly.
“Yeah,” he said. “I am.”
Her eyes dropped to your hand — to the thin ring on your finger.
She choked. “You’re… engaged?”
Mattheo gave the smallest, proudest smirk.
“Yeah,” he said. “We are.”
“But— you’re sixteen— she’s pregnant— Mattheo, what are you doing?”
“Something you never inspired in me,” he said coolly. “Growing up.”
Her face burned red. “You replaced me with—”
“With someone better,” he cut in. “Someone real. Someone I chose.”
You shifted uncomfortably, but Mattheo was already stepping closer to his ex, eyes cold as winter.
“And if you ever talk about her with that disgust again,” he said softly, “you’ll regret it.”
The room went silent.
Draco, Theo, Blaise, and Enzo — who had paused mid-conversation — all looked over.
Even they raised brows.
The ex swallowed hard, backing up a step.
Mattheo returned to you, offering his hand.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
You took it, and he pulled you gently to your feet, kissing your forehead right in front of her. A message. A warning. A victory.
As he led you toward the stairs, he whispered:
“She doesn’t get to talk about you. She doesn’t get access to me. Not anymore.”
You smiled softly. “You scared her.”
“Good,” he murmured. “Because she needed to learn something.”
He opened the door for you.
“You’re my future. She’s just a mistake I grew out of.”
Behind you, his ex stood frozen — realizing too late:
Mattheo Riddle didn’t want her back.
He was already building a life with you.