"I love him, Draco." Your words echo in Draco's mind, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths, as he locks eyes with Mattheo in the dimly lit classroom. Dust motes dance in the shafts of fading light that filter through the grimy windows, the air thick with unspoken tension.

"I just want to protect you," he had told you, desperation threading through his voice. "Don't you understand that?"

Draco turns to face Mattheo, his expression hardening. "I warned you not to mess with me, Riddle." The words drip with an authority that he hopes will keep Mattheo at bay.

Mattheo’s face remains unnervingly blank, a mask that betrays nothing as he studies Draco. "Yeah, I guess you did," he sneers, the corner of his mouth curling into a mocking smile that sends a chill down Draco’s spine.

"Caring brother, Draco." Mattheo lifts his chin defiantly, his gaze unwavering and filled with challenge. The silence between them crackles with unresolved conflict. "Tell me, does she know about it?"

"About what?" Draco's grey eyes narrow, suspicion flaring in his chest like a flame igniting dry tinder. "About your little family secret?"

The two stare each other down, the atmosphere thickening as tension hangs heavy in the air. Draco's jaw tightens, a muscle flickering in his cheek as he fights to keep his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about, Riddle."

"She's not a real Malfoy..." Mattheo's voice drops, low and dangerous, his eyes darkening with intent. He rises from the desk, stepping closer, invading Draco’s personal space, his presence imposing. "Is that why you don’t let anyone get close to her?" He sneers, his voice laced with disdain. "Because you fell in love with her?"

"Watch what you say." Draco's heart races, a surge of anger within him. He doesn't bother to deny it, raising his wand and pointing it at Mattheo, the movement sharp and decisive, a clear warning.

"I'm sure you would have loved to have her if you had the chance..." Mattheo presses on, his gaze piercing and all too knowing.