ℳ؛༊

The words spilled from Mattheo’s mouth like poison, and three things happened immediately.

First, you couldn’t remember how to breath; the single thing your body was designed to do automatically was suddenly broken.

Next, you felt a scream, a cry in your throat ripping through you, gaining momentum as it pinged off every place you felt pain, which was everywhere.

And third, you felt the molten hot touch of anger, of rage, of shame for being hopelessly, soul-crushingly in love with him when he could turn around and say, “You’re great, I’m just… not feeling it. It’s about to be summer, you know? Better to let us have our own fun.”

As if this somehow benefited you too.

As if he wasn’t crumbling the very walls of the world around you as he confirmed what you’d always feared: the two of you were grossly mismatched. He was the prince of the school, he was smirked lips, a cigarette between his fingers, ice cold stares and hands that ran hot over your body. He was stolen glances and whispered promises, lies you now realized.

"You’re fucking perfect."

"You’re all I can think about."

Though never those three big words. And by the grace of Salazar you’d held them in too, even though you felt them, and would have sold them to him for a kiss and a prayer.

And you?

You were lovely in your own right, relatively popular, but it was no secret that you and Mattheo had caught everyone by surprise. You had been cautious, careful, wary at first but logic and reason soon gave way to desire, too content with his attention and the way his lips captured yours, the way he’d hold your chin in place, captivating you, to think through the consequences.

So you came to define yourself by him. Who were you? Riddle’s girl. A Slytherin, a libra, sure, but you were first and foremost Riddle’s girl.

Until you weren’t.

People walking by eyed your conversation with low whispers as they passed and Mattheo took a quick drag of his dwindling cigarette before dropping it to the floor and crushing it, like your heart.

You still couldn’t find your breath and you still couldn’t find your words and the world began to blur behind fat tears you didn’t want him to see, so you held your head high, pushed past him, and walked away.

If you’d learned anything in your time as his girlfriend, in the year spent with his group of friends, it was the art of hiding your emotions behind an implacable facade.

Mattheo stuck his tongue into his cheek, his eyes narrowing at your reaction, as he watched you walk away from him, forgetting that there were several other things they had taught you as well.

Anger.

How to hold a grudge.

And revenge.

You stumbled into your room, slamming the door behind you and wiped furiously at the tears that refused to stop pouring, hiccupping as you fought against your body’s every desire to break down.

You were taking gasping breaths, trying to find your air as you paced back and forth, your eyes squeezed shut, your mind a whirlpool of painful memories, trying to dissect what had ever been true and what had been a lie and failing miserably.

Then, a particular memory appeared like a spell.

Enzo breaking up with some girl last year, her running from the Great Hall, the way her cries echoed off the stone walls as he nonchalantly grabbed a roll and stuffed it in his face. Your eyebrow quirked; were they really all so heartless? "Better to cut if off now," he said, emotionless. "She was far too into me. I mean, do I look like I’m settling any time soon?" He'd laughed. The guys had laughed along with him. You rolled your eyes. "Girls come and go," Theo agreed, "But boys are forever" he smirked, raising his glass as they all shared a toast. Mattheo had at least had the decency to press a kiss to your cheek, which made you think you were somehow exempt, above their rule of law and the loyalty that held them together.

You stopped pacing and slumped into your chair as you stared out the window, tears drying as you watched the late spring sun settle into the highlands.

Slowly, ever so slowly as you watched it disappear, setting the world in an unforgiving darkness, your agony gave way to something new, something iron hot.

You stood, grabbed your quill, and ripped a piece of parchment haphazardly as you steadied yourself enough to write with such force you nearly tore through the page.

1. Blaise 2. Draco 3. Lorenzo 4. Theo

A slow smile crested your lips.

Mattheo was well practiced in exuding indifference. But he’d be lying if he said your reaction didn’t bother him.

He thought he was ready to let it go, to get on with his summer, to get the fuck out of Hogwarts and get into some proper debauchery with his friends. But he’d been with you longer than anyone else and as such he’d been steeling himself for you to scream, to cry, to fight back, to call him names, to hex him, to beg him to stay. But he got nothing. And that left him in a mental pretzel.

He twiddled with his lighter.

He’d already checked and you’d blocked him on every social.

He nudged Blaise. “Give me your phone.”

Blaise side eyed him, ready to argue, before Mattheo plucked it out of his hands.

He opened the first app he could find and searched your name.

Nothing.

“She’s off the grid, mate. Think she deleted everything.”

"Hmpf." He tossed the phone aside and lay his head back on the common room couch.

Two nights later you were home, sitting amongst your trunk and a pile of clothing, unpacking for the summer, when Mattheo texted you.

"Ifcked up. Canwe tkl?"

Drunk.

Your fingers hovered over your phone and you thought about it, really thought about it for several moments, because isn't this exactly what you wanted? To talk? To get him back?

You bit your bottom lip.

No.

What you wanted was never to have had your heart shattered in the first place. What you wanted was for the ache in your chest to dissipate, to go fifteen minutes without crying, to stop replaying every moment of the last year with him on repeat.

What you really, truly wanted was for him to feel a modicum of the pain you felt now.

(1) BLAISE ZABINI.

Blaise was easy.

He was the kindest of the group, the one you were closest to. It almost made you feel bad.

Almost.

He had texted you immediately the day Mattheo had broken up with you to make sure you were okay, and within a week he stopped by your house to check on you. You opened the door, a wobbling pout on your lips.

“Ah, dammit, come here” he’d said, welcoming you into his strong arms.

He was warm from the sun and smelled clean and fresh. You found genuine comfort in his embrace but you pulled back slowly, your cheeks brushing, and you turned your head to press your lips to his before either of you could think about it.

You waited for him to pull back.

He didn’t.

You let it linger, feeling him return the gentle pressure. And then...

“Oh, gods, I’m-I’m so sorry, Blaise. I’m such a mess” you said, pulling back and covering your face with your hands, feigning embarrassment. "Please let’s forget that ever happened."

“Yeah, n-no worries, it’s alright YN” he conceded, a smile on his lips.

(2) DRACO MALFOY.

Draco was going to be harder.

He was shrewd... but he was also soft and it was far too easy to bump into him in the small town not far from his parents' place.

He, too, managed to have compassion for you in his cloudy grey eyes and one drink together at the pub on the corner turned into two, as you gently, easily stroked his ego, and fed him the praise you knew he so desperately adored.

“Surely they’ll make you head boy next year, Draco, there’s no one better suited to it. You’re the smartest, most cunning of our class.” You smiled at him under lidded eyes, moving to adjust his collar, letting your fingers brush his throat where you saw his adam’s apple bob.

You reached onto tiptoes and let your lips slide over his, soft and warm. He squeezed your waist, clearly struggling to decide whether to pull you in or push you away.

You stepped back, enjoying how starstruck he looked as you bit your lip flirtatiously.

“Enjoy your summer, Draco” you said, before sauntering away.

(3) LORENZO BERKSHIRE.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t leaving Enzo as a little treat for yourself.

You planned a girls' night out that just so happened to be at his favorite club in London on the same night that his favorite DJ was playing. What were the odds!?

Then, you bumped into him like it was the purest coincidence on the outskirts of the dancefloor and he forgot not to stare as his jaw dropped and eyes blew wide. He’d never seen you like … this: skin aglow, a carefree smile, flushed cheeks and glossed lips, bright eyes that twinkled when they saw him, and as predicted he was thinking with his dick long before he knew what hit him. You were hot, like hot hot, he’d always thought so but now … now you were broken up, single, right? And you were looking at him like maybe the exact same thing was going through your mind.

It went a little further than you expected.

One minute you were hugging each other, laughing at the coincidence, and within 22 minutes his tongue was down your throat as he lifted you and pressed you into the wall as his hand swirled beneath your dress.

You left that night laughing, dizzy, and buzzed.

(4) THEODORE NOTT.

Theo was always going to be the hardest.

He wasn’t your friend like Blaise, he wasn’t soft like Draco and he wasn’t easy like Lorenzo; he was Mattheo’s best friend and he wasn’t going to fall for your bullshit.

But a year in his presence taught you exactly what made him tick; you knew his likes, his dislikes, his weaknesses, his fantasies, it’s amazing what guys will say after a few too many whiskeys late into the night.

So on a Sunday afternoon at the coffee shop in Little Italy next to the best bakery in town while wearing a dress that screamed summer in Positano that sat high on your thighs, with strappy sandals, a tinted lip and winged eyeliner you knew you had him the second he saw you.

"YN?" He asked. "What are you doing here?"

His voice was accusatory like you had encroached on his space, but he couldn’t hide the way his dark eyes landed on every inch of you, like he wanted to look away but couldn’t.

"I was thinking of you, actually" you admitted sheepishly. "You always talked about this place, I thought I’d tried it and see if the espresso was as good as you said it was..." You paused for dramatic effect, let your eyes fall, your lip quiver. "I can get it to go–"

"–No, no, sit, you can’t drink it out of plastic" he said vehemently, pulling out the seat beside him.

For a few moments it was uncomfortably quiet. You took small sips, set your cup down. The cafe was small, and you were pressed nearly shoulder to shoulder. You mustered your courage and turned to look at him; at this distance you could smell him like cigarettes and cologne, could feel his warmth against you.

"Theo," you started quietly. "For what it's worth, I never believed what Mattheo said about you."

He reared back, confused.

You continued, mirroring his confusion. "You know, that you only get girls because your Italian? And they think it’s exotic and–"

"–He said that?" He muttered, genuine hurt in his voice that you told yourself you'd feel bad about later because that hurt, that vulnerability was all you needed.

You leaned in quick, chaste, pressing your lips to his and then pulling away, even though you felt his fingers lingering on your thigh.

"I said too much, I should go" you muttered, rising to leave before he could stop you.

You waited until you rounded the corner to smile.

Your silence that summer drove Mattheo absolutely crazy.

And for some reason his friends seemed awfully quiet too.

He was actually looking forward to coming back to school, to getting his head on straight.

Until you passed him in the hall.

"YN?" he said before he could stop himself, more of an outward expression than an effort to get your attention, because you looked… great.

“Hi, Mattheo” you said, warm and genuine.

“Have a good summer?" he asked.

“A really great summer, actually! Just busy, full of fun, tried a lot of new things" you swallowed your smiled. "You?"

“Yeah, a bit quiet" he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know, the guys were busy..."

Got him.

"Yeah, Enzo’s trip to Ibiza sounded amazing though" you quipped.

His eyes shot to yours. He didn’t know Enz went to Ibiza.

"And Theo finally getting to see his family on the Med?" you continued, unwavering, "Plus Blaise and Draco seeing Mumford and Sons? I die! About time, don’t you think?"

Mattheo's eyes narrowed. He didn’t know any of that. And if you weren’t even on socials… how did you...?

You could see the gears turning.

“...I didn’t know” he admitted.

“Oh!” you feigned a look of genuine surprise before you pursed your lips innocently. "But Mattheo," you said curiously, stepping towards him, getting right up in his grill as you reached to straighten his tie, "I thought you and your friends were inseparable? What was it? Girls come and go but boys are forever? Or is that that just what you tell yourselves about your loyalty to one another?"

Your eyes met his and burned hot with a fire he could feel coming off of you that made his heart drop into his stomach.

“Perhaps they’re not as loyal to you as you think” you whispered against his ear, before letting go of him with a light shove and brushing past him.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” he shouted after you.

You smirked without turning around.

That night each of the boys sat on their respective four poster beds in amiable silence; on their phones, flipping through the Quidditch Times. Mattheo twirled his lighter in his fingers, faster, faster, faster, stewing as he side-eyed the boy to his left.

If looks could kill, there would be nothing but a pile of ash on Lorenzo Berkshire’s bed, because Mattheo knew it was him who betrayed him. He knew he eye-fucked you constantly, knew he had next to no morals to begin with. His fingers itched for his wand but before he could think better of it he erupted.

“The fuck happened with you and YN?” he said loudly, angrily, like a growl. His hands and eyes stayed on his lighter in an effort not to kill his alleged best friend.

The room quieted to the creak of a single floorboard and the echo of laughter down the hall.

No one so much as breathed.

And then.

“Look—”

“Mate—”

“She!—”

“Amico…”

His head wrenched up to see all four of his friends, eyes wide, staring back and forth at each other, before looking back at him.

Draco was as red as an apple.

Blaise was visibly sweating.

Lorenzo wore a lazy pout, not nearly as upset as he should be.

And Theo looked down at his hands.

The sum total of everyone Mattheo cared about, everyone he trusted was in this room. And as an uncomfortable silence echoed around him he realized with an aching heart that in a single summer he’d not only lost the only girl he’d ever loved, but he lost the loyalty and trust of the only brothers he’d ever known.

You smiled, your heart heavy with emotion, as you watched your best friend join her life with Draco's in an unbreakable vow.

You felt a swell of happiness at how sweet and sacrosanct the moment was, completely in awe of the beauty of it; weddings were always emotional, but this was the first for your group of friends, and in many ways it felt like it marked the start of a new chapter of your lives.

You glanced down the row of seats to see each of the boys dressed impeccably, dazzlingly handsome in their tuxedos. Blaise and Theo were watching intently, though Theo was tugging at his collar, and Enzo was slouched in his seat, arms crossed, impatiently waiting for the open bar at the reception though even his gaze was locked on the couple at the front of the room.

Finally, your eyes came to rest on the boy next to you. Mattheo was sitting rather unusually still, breathing calmly with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips that made your heart flutter. It was nice to see that despite all of their antics, there might be something in each of these boys that made them realize how special this was.

Your attention was pulled back as Draco began to speak his vows. He was the picture of calm, but you knew him well enough to hear the shake in his voice, his nerves.

"I pledge to honor you, love you and cherish you today and every day. Today I say 'I do' but to me that means 'I will'. I will stand by your side in the good and the bad. I bind myself to you, your happiness, your success, and your smile."

In a moment you felt the warmth of Mattheo's attention and turned to see him looking at you as Draco's soft whispers continued, though Mattheo didn't look away, instead, he was searching your face, drinking you in, like perhaps he was imagining saying those same words to you one day.

You blushed furiously as you felt goosebumps rise on your skin and your breath caught in your throat.

"I promise to be your guiding light in the darkness, your protector, a warming comfort in the cold, and a shoulder to lean on when life is too much to bear on your own."

Mattheo smiled at the words as he looked at you, eyes twinkling, like he was saying them to you in his mind, like he was sure, now, that that's exactly what he wanted you to hear him say. You felt tears line your eyes.

"You are my every dream come true. And if you give me your hand—"

Mattheo extended his palm to you subtly, mirroring the vow with one of his own. You glanced down and gently set your palm in his, tangling your fingers together as he grasped you tightly.

"—I will give you forever."

Your eyes lifted to his in surprise, but he didn't so much as flinch, instead, he let his smile swell on his perfect lips in a way you felt somewhere deep in your chest as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

His mind flickered for just a second to the small velvet box tucked in the back of his dresser, of the emerald and diamond ring inside of it, and then he tugged you toward him, pulling you close as he ducked his head, his lips softly brushing your ear as he whispered, "I love you pretty girl."