You smell him before you see him. Parchment, ink, a slight hint of blood and butterbeer drift up your nose as you turn the corner to make your way to Divination, but you slam into a chest before you can make it any further down the hallway.

Mattheo Riddle looks down at you and when he speaks, his voice goes straight to your stomach. You two had a love-hate relationship. Both of you never knew why you hated eachother.

"Hey darling."