"Mattheo Riddle has been acting weird... too weird," Nora said, stabbing her salad with her fork as she watched him from across the Great Hall. He was at another table shifting uncomfortably in his seat while pulling on his hair. He'd been acting odd for weeks, ever since the day after Quidditch Tryouts. Their conversation at the owlery only confirmed the suspicions she'd had.

Am I on your mind, Nora Rosier? Because you've certainly been on mine.

Oh, fuck him and his little stupid mind games. Two could play. And she could play well.

They'd had one Quidditch game already, which resulted in them screaming at each other outside of the locker room, something she had a feeling she would be doing all year. Because for some reason, Mattheo Riddle couldn't stay out of her fucking head. And she hated it.

As if sensing her gaze, Mattheo's eyes flashed over to where Nora sat with Aditi at the Ravenclaw table—her latest love interest had eaten with them earlier before leaving to study. He gave her a wry grin and a wink, which Nora responded to with a certain middle finger that she did not try to be subtle about.

"You wish, princess," he mouthed before leaning back as if he was the cockiest son of a bitch on the whole planet, which he was.

"Go die, Riddle," Nora mouthed back.

"Hey! Earth to Nora!" Aditi exclaimed, waving her hands in front of her eyes, breaking Nora's eye contact with Riddle. A look of concern flashed on her friend's face. "Umm, what the fuck was that about? You've stabbed the same piece of lettuce four times. You're a salad murderer!"

Nora scowled before glaring at Mattheo, who just blew her a kiss back. "I told you. It's fucking Riddle! He's acting odd."

Aditi raised one of her perfectly trimmed brown eyebrows. "Umm, newsflash, Nor: you always think he's acting odd. Only this time, you're acting odd too. What the fuck is up?"

What the fuck is up? Maybe what's up is the fact that Mattheo Riddle fucking cornered me at the fucking Owlery before looking at me like he wanted to sling me over his shoulder—and I almost let him! Cocky fucking bastard. Merlin, she turned into a sailor whenever he was near. Thank the heavens that Aditi finally got rid of their swear jar once the girl finally realized that neither of them was going to stick to it.

"He's just... and then he... but after that he... URGH!" Why did her brain have to be so different? Why did it work at a million miles an hour—thinking thought after thought after thought—but then completely halt sometimes? It was so frustrating to feel like she was a prisoner to her own mind when half the time she was wrangling her shackles around her thoughts to control them and the other half of the time it felt like she didn't have any shackles at all, just letting each thought roam free.

Aditi took a bite of her croissant and smiled sympathetically. "I think I know what it is."

The corner of her lip turned upward in a sneer. She grabbed her pumpkin juice to try and contain it—thank Merlin it was already October and it was acceptable to drink pumpkin things now. "What?"

Her friend rolled her eyes before setting down the pastry and giving her a pointed look. "You like him."

And that was how bright orange pumpkin juice landed itself all over Aditi Mondal, who just smiled through it as if it were normal for Nora to have spit all of her drink on her. "Yup," she said, wiping it off with her sleeve. "You definitely like him. If you didn't, you would have hexed me for even suggesting it."

"I'm still debating doing that."

"Debating not doing," Aditi said with a smug grin. "The Nora Rosier of last year would have done it instantly and then dragged me to Madam Pomfrey to get it undone. And the best part is: you still haven't denied it! It's like your heart wants to scream 'I'm Nora-fucking-Rosier, the hottest bitch in this school, and I want to fuck Mattheo Riddle, AKA the most fuckable guy in eighth year!'"

"He's only the most fuckable because he fucks literally everyone but me."

Aditi cackled before biting her hand as if she was trying to keep from laughing anymore. "Guess what bitch... you still haven't denied it."

Nora raked her hands through her long, dark blonde hair. It was a bad hair day—at least for her. She had woken with it frizzy and only half-straight, a result of an entire night spent tossing and turning over Mattheo fucking Riddle, trying to figure out if he was acting odd because he was about to play some prank on her. It wouldn't be the first time. One time, he put whipped cream all over her dorm room. Even with magic, it took days to get it all out. Was he getting ready to do something like that again, something that would inevitably ruin the high she had been on ever since she'd gotten the last word at the owlery? Or did something happen the night of Quidditch Tryouts, something to make him act so weird? It was all driving her insane so Nora had lost several hours over the past several days. The result? An awful hair day, one she was only making worse by running her hands through her scalp over and over.

Did Aditi have a point? Did Nora have a crush that even she didn't know about? If you would have asked her about it eight years ago, she might have said yes. But ever since that day? Well, that day had shown her that a crush on Mattheo Riddle was the worst thing any girl could do, let alone her. Mattheo wasn't capable of being anything but a cocky bastard, no matter how flustered he'd made her feel over a week ago.

Nora took a deep breath before looking into Aditi's deep brown eyes. They looked like chocolate, which Aditi always joked was perfect since she consumed at least a gallon's worth of it every week. "I do not and will never have a crush on Mattheo Riddle."

Aditi just smiled. "Famous last words."

Later that day, Nora was making her way down to the Quidditch pitch with a broom in one hand, a quaffle in the other, and a scowl on her face. Aditi's words had gotten to her more than she liked to admit. Not because she had a crush on Mattheo Riddle—of course she didn't have a crush on that pig—but because she was worried that she was giving off the impression she had a crush on Mattheo Riddle when she certainly did not. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her stares—her curious stares mind you, ones that were only trying to figure out why he was acting so bloody different—and think that she liked him. She could barely tolerate the guy, much less like him.

Nora Rosier didn't really like men. They were, frankly, selfish assholes who cared more about getting their dick wet and watching sports than being actual decent human beings. Sure, there were some exceptions. But they were exceptions, not the rule. Like Lorenzo Berkshire was perfectly tolerable but his friend group—namely the curly-headed brunette with dark brown eyes and a shit-eating grin—was not.

But Nora's dislike of the other gender started long before Mattheo. Her father was the first. He stupidly stayed in the Death Eaters and attempted to resist arrest from the Alastor Moody when he had a wife, child, and a baby (her) on the way. He chose idiocy and false bravery over his family. It was a choice only a man could make. It was a choice only a man would make.

Then there was her brother, Christopher, who seemed to have gained their father's penchant for being a moron. Nora used to think that her brother had gotten hit by too many bludgers to have more than three brain cells. That was before she'd learned that three brain cells was generous and that, unless the bludger was a bomb, none of them could hit Christopher hard enough to make him that much of a nitwit. He was a jerk to everyone but his saint of a girlfriend, who somehow didn't seem right through his bullshit. It might have seemed mean to say this about her family but let's just say that Christopher Rosier was the main piece of evidence for Nora's theory that any dumb man can be given a ball and a stick and do nothing else for the rest of his life.

Nora'd had many encounters with boys over the years and they had done nothing but prove her thoughts. Stupid men who only cared about her developing curves, idiot boys who couldn't seem to tell which head they were thinking out of, guys who somehow couldn't hear the complete and total bullshit they were spewing. Even Linc, who Nora somewhat liked, was an idiot. She'd told him that there would never be anything between them and yet there he was, asking every damn time they fucked if she would stay with him. You would think spelling it out for him multiple times a week for over a year would make things clear to him but, then again, that would be overestimating him.

The sun was just beginning to set by the time Nora reached the Quidditch pitch. She was thankful it was a warm day so she could get away with leggings and a thin sweater. She wasn't quite used to the bulky uniforms yet, though she was sure she would be before long. Now it was time for a nice evening of playing Quidditch. She had the pitch to herself and the skies before her. Yes, it would be relaxing.

Or it would have been.

"Oy! Princess!" A scowl overtook Nora's face as soon as she heard his voice from behind her. She stilled—her body tense enough to make a masseuse faint. Her broom was clutched angrily in her hands as if she were trying not to hit Mattheo with it. In a way, she truly was. Because hearing his voice now, when she was trying to relax after weeks of trying to get into his head and figure him out, was the last thing she needed. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Nora turned on her heels, ready with a sharp retort, only to stop when she saw him. He was shirtless and dripping with sweat and her fucking traitorous mind couldn't help but notice how good his toned torso looked as a droplet crawled down his tan skin. He smirked. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Something got you distracted?"

"Yeah, you!" she admitted. His eyes widened as if he didn't expect her to say that. To be honest, she definitely didn't expect it either but now there was nothing to do but roll with it. "You smell like a bloody corn chip factory and your body looks like it was just dunked in troll bogies."

But instead of his insult doing what she intended—you know, insulting him—Mattheo just grinned. "Checking out my body, huh, Rosier?"

She rolled her eyes and started to walk away. "Why did I expect you to act like anything other than a complete asshole?"

Nora started to walk away, taking great care to stomp on every blade of grass she encountered while she stormed away from him. But his voice called out to her, making her halt in her tracks. "Nora! Wait!"

She turned around to find him jogging up to her, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her weirdly. His eyes raked over her body but it wasn't a look that was full of lust. To be honest, she couldn't really read what he was thinking. "We're on a first-name basis now?" she snapped.

Mattheo shot her a dirty look but he ignored what she said. "Where are you going?"

"Let's see... you're here so anywhere but here," she responded in a sardonic voice.

He put his hands in his pockets—goddamnit his sweats were fucking light grey too. Why did he have to do this to her? Why couldn't fate put someone she actually wanted here in front of her dripping sweat shirtless with grey sweatpants? And, of course, she could see that he was fucking packing down there, which pissed her off even more. It was always the worst ones that were blessed.

"Don't go."

"Like hell, I'm not going," she bit back.

"The Quidditch pitch is more than enough for the two of us." Then, Mattheo smirked. "Unless you don't think you can handle playing with me."

Normally, Nora would have turned down any offer to be within a fifty-foot radius of Mattheo Riddle. But throw in a competition? Hit that little competitive streak of hers that stubbornly never backed down? Well, that would have her agreeing to just about anything.

"If anything, it would be you that couldn't handle me."

He scoffed. "Please, princess. We both know that I'm the only one in Hogwarts that actually could handle you."

The smile on Nora's face was saccharine. "Then you should have no problem losing to me. One on one? No bludgers."

"Oh, you're on, Rosier. Prepare to get destroyed."

Before he could say anything, Nora quickly mounted her broom with the quaffle still in her handles while she took off toward the other goal. "Hey!" Mattheo yelled from behind her. "You bloody cheater!"

She laughed just as the ball went through the tallest hoop. Nora cast a summoning charm and grabbed the quaffle with one hand as it reached her. "Why, Riddle. Me? A cheater?" She clutched an arm to her chest and feigned shock. "I'll have you know that I am nothing if not a proper lady."

He rolled his eyes and clutched his arms over his chest. She couldn't help but notice with a weird warmth in her body that the action made his shoulders look broader and his arms bulge. Get a grip, Nora. It's just a fucking arm. Almost everyone has two of them! "'Proper lady'? You do know I saw you eat thirteen wings last Tuesday, right?"

Heat rose to her cheeks, only for some reason it wasn't at the embarrassment of him catching her devouring thirteen lemon pepper wings—don't judge, she was fucking hungry—but because he was watching her. "And they were thirteen delicious wings."

He just laughed before stealing the quaffle from her arms and taking off toward the other side of the pitch. Nora couldn't help but giggle before taking off after him, swatting at his broom while he raced across the field.

And that was what they did for hours. The two of them tossed the quaffle back and forth, dashing across the pitch like two bolts of lightning. Even as the sun set and darkness settled over the Earth, they didn't let up. If anything, the night seemed to rejuvenate them, their smiles only growing bright as the dusk grew dimmer. Sometimes, their competitiveness would get the better of them and they would bump into each other in their efforts to steal the ball and make it to the other side. Other times, Mattheo was passing her the quaffle so she could do a trick shot from the halfway mark. He cheered loudly every time she made it, clapping his hands as he mimed a crowd full of spectators. "And they all go wild for Nora Rosier! AHHHH!"

Nora giggled as he flew around with his arms outstretched. "Thank you, thank you." She had never seen this side of Mattheo before. It was almost.. nice.

No. That couldn't be right. Mattheo Riddle... nice? He was the biggest asshole in the history of assholes... wasn't he? But as he flew around her, pretending to be a professional commentator while she glowed under his praise, she wasn't sure he was. Or at least she wasn't sure he was all of the time.

But then he would do something that would make her change her mind again. Just like eight years ago, he would remind her just how big of an asshole he really was. Just like every other man.

"Look at you. You finally make the team and you turn out to be a halfway decent Quidditch player."

She frowned. "Halfway decent? I just beat the fuck out of you and I'm only halfway decent?"

"Well, yeah. I let you win," he said with a scoff while running one bare arm through his curls.

"You let me win?" She could hardly keep her voice from rising.

"Yeah. It's the gentlemanly thing to do, isn't it?"

Nora felt her eyes burn with unshed tears. He had let her win? Did he seriously just imply that she wasn't good enough to win on her own?

Yup. He did. Just like a fucking asshole. Just when she was starting to think he might not be one.

Nora crossed her arms and quickly flew down to the pitch, grabbing her stuff and running away before he could do anything. "Princess, wait. Did I say something wrong?"

She huffed with exasperation. "Of course you think you didn't. Perfect Mattheo Riddle can't do anything wrong."

"Princess... princess, come back! Talk to me."

"You've done more than enough talking for tonight, Riddle." Yeah, the stinging in her eyes and her wounded ego were more than enough evidence.

"Nora," he sighed. Then, she felt a strong hand grab her wrist. He turned her around and she knew that he saw the hurt written in her eyes, even though she tried not to let it show on her face. They had arguments all of the time. Why did this one bother her so much when all of the others rolled off her like butter? Because you were just starting to think he was okay and you don't like being proved wrong.

"Princess," he said in a soft voice. She hated him. She hated the way his chocolate brown eyes looked like rivers to get lost in. She hated the way a sweaty curl fell across his forehead. She hated the way his toned muscles still caught her eyes. She hated the way his voice comforted her. She hated Mattheo Riddle.

Mattheo drew her even closer, his eyes scanning hers. "If I've said something to hurt your feelings, I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention."

"It's never your intention to hurt. You just do it anyway," she bit out.

He raised an eyebrow. "It's not like you're innocent either. You snap back just as much." She clenched her jaw because he was fucking right and she hated it. "What happened? I thought we were having a moment."

She crossed her arms as if that would make her feel any less exposed. The tears were drying and her cheeks were less flushed but she still felt far too vulnerable. "Any halfway-decent moment we were having is gone."

The corners of Mattheo's lips turned up slightly and Nora hated the way she liked the look of it. This was fucking Mattheo. Why did she even care at all? You don't. You hate him. "That's what your little fit is about? Princess, you and I both know that I don't need to feed your ego anymore. You're bloody brilliant."

She smiled softly. "Really?"

He laughed and leaned in closer. From this close, she could smell the mint and subtle hint of tobacco on his breath. His spicy, woodsy scent reminded her a little bit of a forest fire. She could see the depths of his chocolate brown eyes, the way there were little flecks of black within the brown. "Really, sweetheart. You're amazing and you know it."

Nora blushed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Why did she suddenly care about his compliments? What was wrong with her? "Well, I do like being reminded."

His chuckle was deep, so deep that she felt it echo in her core. "I'd be more than happy to remind you more often."

See? Maybe he is nice.

Maybe the universe had some law that Mattheo Riddle could only be nice as long as Nora Rosier didn't notice it. Because what happened next had her cursing him for days, swearing that she would murder him whenever she got the chance.

He leaned in and he fucking kissed her.

He kissed her even though they both hated each other, even though they couldn't go more than a couple of days without screaming profanities at each other. He kissed her with lips that were firm and demanding and tasting of cigarettes and sweat. He kissed her like he was hungry for more, like he had been thinking of this kiss for weeks.

Nora felt heat rise all throughout her body, curling her toes as she couldn't help but lean into him, even though she knew that kissing him was the worst idea. But the worst things felt the best and Mattheo Riddle was a delicious temptation wrapped in a sinful body.

He groaned into her lips. "Fuck, princess."

And Nora couldn't help but moan back as his lips consumed her with a bruising kiss. Perhaps he was right earlier when he said he would destroy her. Because in one kiss, Mattheo Riddle had already destroyed her notions of kissing. If this was what he could do with just his lips, what could he do with more? He was running his tongue along the inside of her mouth while completely overriding her brain with fog.

Nora pulled back—panting breathlessly as she prepared to ask him if he wanted to come back to her dorm. But Mattheo's eyes only widened. He ran his hands through his hair as if he couldn't believe what he just did.

And then he fucking disappeared.

The asshole apparated away from her, leaving her flustered and cold in the night sky, her lips still red from her kiss. She touched them to remind herself that this had really happened. He had kissed her and regretted it.

"Mattheo Riddle, you are such a fucking asshole," Nora gritted as she felt her eyes burn again. There was that wounded pride of hers, her chest feeling like a knife had shredded through it. She looked up at the Hogwarts castle where he was probably in his dorm room laughing about her to her friends. Nora clenched her jaw as she hardened her heart from ever letting Mattheo Riddle this close to her.

"I'm going to fucking kill you," she vowed. "I'm going to end you, Mattheo Riddle if it's the last thing I do."

Wow, this was a longer one! I am dying to know what y'all think of this one so please please let me know in the comments! Have a good week xx