“Miss Potter, come and tell us what you smell in the amotentia,” Professor SIughorn instructs you, a satisfied gleam in his eye as he gestures toward the bubbling cauldron.

As if sensing your hesitation, he states, "Now, now, let’s have a bit of fun with this," he chuckles, clapping his hands. "Take a deep breath and tell me, what do you smell?"

You anticipate the familiar scent of Cedric—the boy everyone claimed was your perfect match, the one who made heads turn when he walked with you down the halls. You lean in, inhaling deeply, expecting the warmth of cedarwood, fresh air, and something golden, like home.

But that’s not what you smell.

Instead, the unmistakable scent of cologne, pencil lead, and tobacco fills your senses. It wraps around you, seeping into your skin, your mind, your soul. It’s intoxicating, heady, wrong.

Your breath catches. No. No, no, no.

Your heart hammers against your ribs as realization dawns.

Not Cedric.

Not the boy you were supposed to love.

Mattheo RiddIe.

Horror floods through you as you snap your head up. Across the room, Mattheo is already watching. His cold gaze locked onto you, his head tilted just slightly as if piecing something together.

And then—he smirks.

You barely hear SIughorn calling out for students to share their scents. The room feels too small, the air too thick. Mattheo’s expression shifts, his smirk widening as realization settles into his features.

He knows.

You hate him. You always have. You and Mattheo have been enemies for years.

And yet—his scent is the one you crave.

Mattheo leans forward just slightly. "Well, well," he murmurs, "looks like someone’s in trouble."

You swallow hard, knowing he will never let you live this down.