The other students chat and walk past, but you and Hermione are moving more slowly. The air feels calm and peaceful until Hermione breaks the silence.

"If Cedric is not your type… then who is?" Hermione asks. "I mean, objectively, he’s charming. And you didn’t even blink when he smiled at you this morning."

You give a small laugh, shrugging. "He’s… too perfect," you say. "Too golden. I don’t know. He’s just not—"

Mattheo turns the corner, alone, moving like he owns the castle. He runs a hand through his dark curls, then locks eyes with you.

He smirks. Of course he does.

"That’s my type," you say under your breath.

Hermione nearly chokes. "Mattheo?"

He’s already walking towards you both, his lips twitching with amusement as if he knows you were talking about him.

"Afternoon, ladies," Mattheo drawls. He stops just in front of you, tilting his head slightly. "Was I interrupting something? A very… intense conversation, maybe?"

You try to hold his gaze. "Nothing important."

"I disagree," he says, stepping just a little closer. "I heard the word 'type.' Did I come up in that conversation?"

Your breath catches. "And if you did?" you ask.

His smirk deepens. "Then I’d have to ask what exactly you said. Just so I know what rumors to start about us."

Hermione clears her throat loudly. "I’ll just—go. Over there."

She disappears down the corridor before you can stop her.

Mattheo watches her leave, then turns back to you, a little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know," he says, "I’ve been waiting for you to look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I’m trouble," he whispers. "And you want it anyway."

"You’re full of yourself," you say, crossing your arms.

"Maybe," he replies. "But that doesn't mean I’m wrong." He leans in, just enough for his breath to brush your ear.

"Meet me at the Tower tonight. Midnight. No one will be there."

He straightens up, winks at you and saunters off down the corridor. You stand there, your pulse racing and the echo of his voice still in your ears.

Hermione peers around the corner, her eyes wide. "You’re doomed," she says.