FROM EDEN | Mattheo Riddle

Viii. Bad Omen

Snow settled on the Scotland fields like a heavy veil, blanketing the vast greenery with its celestial whiteness. Violet had always loved Winter, likening the season to an embodiment of purity and serenity. She thought back her to her first winter in Hogwarts, the place seeming more magical with crystalline snowflakes falling around it. Peaceful and beautiful, like it should be.

So unlike the godforsaken place that it is now.

With the Dark Lord's return, the tranquility of December was replaced by saturnine silence. The richness of snow no longer seemed comforting, but rather claustrophobic with its abundance. Foreboding clouds hung above the castle like a teetering chandelier, a bad omen of whats to fall upon them.

News of the curse that struck Katie Bell spread like wildfire, the details of it causing shivers to travel down Violet's spine. The professors have identified the hex to be of complex, dark magic. The necklace was charmed to curse its intended recipient, their headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. However, Katie had touched the present, bewitched by its glimmering jewels. Now, the poor girl lays unconscious in the infirmary, lucky to even be alive.

It had happened on the same day she went out with Mattheo, could he have done something about it? Dread and paranoia settled like heavyweight in Violet's chest. She was with him the whole time, it couldn't be him.

Her opinion on the matter, however, wasn't shared by the faculty and the rest of Hogwarts. Mattheo was called into Professor McGonagall's office, interrogated and deemed as a suspect despite having his wand checked of its last spells and activities. It was only until the head of the Slytherin house—Professor Snape, had used Veritaserum on the boy that he was released and saved from expulsion. Still, his innocence had done nothing to quell the suspicions of his classmates. He was the son of the Dark Lord after all. Moreover, an accomplice was roaming the grounds of Hogwarts, only adding to the paranoia of everyone.

Much to Violet's relief, he had not used their little tryst as an alibi, saving her from McGonagall's questioning and the contempt of their peers.

Violet had managed to avoid him the whole week by taking lengthy reroutes to all her classes and childishly hiding inside the library until Madam
Pince kicked her out.

She pushed past the large wooden door of the library, the chilling breeze nipping at her cheeks that she instinctively nuzzled her nose into the soft fabric of her green scarf. The sky had developed shades of purple and blue, the silver luminescent of the moon replacing the harsh rays of sunlight. She reveled in the silence the night brought, away from the incessant gossiping and watchful eyes that plagued the halls at daytime.

Her momentary peace shattered when a hand gripped her upper arm, dragging her into a secluded corridor before she could make out a face. She was roughly pushed against the wall, a scream caught in her throat as one hand covered her mouth and the other held her wrists above her head.

"Avoiding me now, flower?" Her face paled upon hearing his baritone voice. The soft moonlight illuminated her captor, his jaw clenched and ire ablaze in his obsidian eyes.

"What the fuck!" She said, her voiced muffled by his hand.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Mattheo demanded, his hand moving from Violet's lips to her right wrist, trapping her between his arms.

"Don't flatter yourself. I wasn't avoiding you, I was simply busy." She lied through her teeth, quite horribly at that.

"Bullshit," he spat, the grip on her wrists turning deadly. She was sure she'd have bruises the shape of his fingers by tomorrow. "Don't lie to me, flower."

"Why? Did my absence bother you that much, Riddle? Are you sad no else wants you here?" said Violet, biting on every word. Sarcasm dripping heavily from her tongue.

A hand wrapped around her neck, her head knocking against the jagged edge of the stone wall. His long fingers stretched to grasp the line of her jaw, cupping her face possessively. "I've had enough of your bratty remarks, flower. I would watch my words if I were you." His tone calm yet authoritative, leaving no room for argument. Violet thought just how far she could push his buttons before his anger finally detonated.

Curiosity killed the cat as she snarled, "Of course I'd avoid you, Riddle. You're the son of a fucking murderer! Merlin knows if you've killed too."
The repressed anger and distrust she had for him toppled over, sprawling throughout her veins like oil spill.

A flash of hurt peeked through from the cracks of his stoic facade, disappearing as quickly as it came. The thumb tracing soothing circles on the pulse point of her jugular had ceased, tightening his hold on her instead. A warning to be heeded.

A dry laugh echoed across the hall, "Aren't your brothers death eaters, Violet?" he sneered, a devilish grin overtaking his features. Her name sounded unfamiliar as it left his lips.

Before she could throw an insult at him, he bent down, his lips grazing her ear, "You see,
flower, we're the same" his hot breath tickled her skin, leaving goosebumps where it touched. "I know you don't trust me, but I didn't hex the girl. If I had, she wouldn't be breathing by now."

Her heart was hammering within her chest, the thrumming pulse of it reaching her ears. "Do I make you nervous, flower?" He was so close to her, his domineering figure covered her own. A hand going up to touch a strand of hair and her breath hitched at the gesture.

"Don't worry, I won't do anything," he whispered softly, "not unless you want me to." The tip of his nose grazed her neck lightly, sending tremors throughout her body. A foreign feeling stirred in her abdomen, she firmly ignored it.

"And I can't wait for the day you'll be begging for me, Violet."