FROM EDEN | Mattheo Riddle

XIX. Angels and Devils

The news spread like wildfire throughout Hogwarts Castle, much to Violet's chagrin. The students were staring at her as if she was Lord Voldemort himself. Bunch of busybodies. She was certain Dumbledore had heard of it by now, and that wasn't part of their plan. She grumbled. She needed to report to him soon.

Stupid boys, she thought. There is nothing more stupid than two daft boys fighting over a girl that wants nothing to do with them both. She was mulling over her thoughts when someone bumped into her, their books falling to the ground with a loud thump. Violet bent down to gather the books to give them to its owner when she spotted Hermione's brown curls. An idea formed in her head.

She dropped the books again, "Oops," she said sarcastically. "Watch where you're going...mudblood," She said the word with so much venom and disgust in her voice, her spine tingled. Shit, she deserves an award for this.

Hermione's lip trembled, her eyes glassing with tears and shock written all over her pretty face. "What did you say?" Ron interjected, instinctively positioning his body to shield Hermione away from her.

Violet merely raised her brows, stood taller, and held her chin high. Undeterred. "You heard what I said, Weasley. Now, fuck off."

"Come on, Ron," Harry said while gathering Hermione's books from the ground, "No use with arguing with a Lestrange." He stood up and took a step towards her, "And to think you were different, Violet," He said with disappointment before turning around and pulling his friends with him. She let out a sigh, her shoulders sagging in relief. The word tasted bitter in her mouth, but hopefully, it was enough to convince the three.

"What was that about?" She felt a warm breath behind her, his fingers tickling the sides of her waist. Her skin prickled from his touch.

Violet turned to face Mattheo, the corners of her mouth curling into a grin. "Nothing," she sighed, "Just Potter and his lackeys."

He rose a delicate brow, suspicion clouding his features. "I thought you were friends with Hermione."

Her heartbeat sped up, he was baiting her. She needed to think of a safe answer. "Well, we're not," Violet said, keeping her voice steady and eyes trained to his. "We merely share the same academic interest."

He hummed, his brown eyes roaming over her face until it settled on her lips. "I have something to show you."

"What is it this time?" She groaned, "Please tell me it doesn't involve getting our clothes wet again."

"I can't promise that," he said with a wink, the insinuation not lost on her.

"You're such a sleaze," she can't help but share his grin.

"Come on," he grabbed her hand and led her to the staircase. They kept going until they reached the seventh floor of the castle. He stopped in front of a tapestry, looking at her with an impish glint in his eyes.

"You dragged me here to show me a tapestry? Seriously I'm go—What are you doing?"

She asked when he started pacing in front of a wall opposite the tapestry. She was about to throw an insult when a rustling from the wall caught her attention. A door was forming out of the blank slate. "What the—"

"Let's go!" He grabbed her hand before she could fully register what was happening and entered the door.

"Behold! The—"

"Room of Requirement," she whispered, marveling at the décor of the room, which resembled a large bedroom. The floor was lined with smooth mahogany, while the walls were blood red in color with gold accents. A crackling fireplace was situated in front of the four-poster bed, surrounded by tall shelves filled with numerous books. But there, by the windowsill, was a familiar potted plant. It looked completely out of place inside the room. It was the violet plant she gave him on Christmas. Her heart warmed at the thought.