0.2

23 2 0
                                    

As the golden hues of the sunset spilled through the ancient windows of Hogwarts, Rila's heart would always quicken. There was something about the end of the day that felt like a personal victory a secret celebration. It wasn't just about the day's classes finally coming to an end; it was the promise of indulgence, the call of the Great Hall, where her favorite comfort awaited her.

Biscuits and pudding were her guilty pleasures, and Rila had a particular affinity for combining the two into an eccentric, sweet-salty sandwich. The sight of her creation often drew puzzled stares and whispers from her fellow students, but Rila was unfazed.

She knew that the satisfaction she found in her quirky culinary concoction far outweighed the opinions of those around her. After all, what did they know about true joy? To Rila, it was a simple equation: a full stomach and a smug grin trumped judgmental glances any day.

The Great Hall hushed as the notorious Slytherin boys made their grand entrance. It was a ritual by now nearly every eye in the room was drawn to the group like moths to a flame. Admiration, fear, envy-their presence commanded it all. The whispers of their name floated through the air: Princes of Slytherin. The title was more than just a label; it was a mark of respect, a warning, and a mystery all at once.

But what the student body failed to grasp, in all their obliviousness, was the depth of the bond between these so-called princes.

Matteo Riddle, the enigmatic leader, was not an outsider who had wormed his way into their circle. He was part of it from the beginning, as inseparable from the others as Rila herself. The Malfoys, the Notts, the Riddles, the Blacks, the Zabinis, the Gayles, these names were intertwined long before Hogwarts, long before any of them understood the weight of legacy and bloodlines. They were more than friends; they were family, raised together in the shadows of ambition and expectation.

Rila, too, was part of this unbreakable web, though she was one of the few girls in their midst. Her closeness to the boys sparked rumors, vicious ones that painted her as the Slytherin Slut. But Draco, ever the protective brother, was quick to quash such talk, insisting on her purity. And while he wasn't entirely wrong, he also didn't know everything.

Rila was no paragon of purity, at least not in the sense of the old blood purity doctrines. Draco himself had begun to question those very beliefs, though he would never dare voice such doubts not with their mother's life hanging in the balance. She was his world, and Draco would do anything to protect her, even if it meant sacrificing his own soul.

As the group settled into their seats, Rila felt a familiar, suffocating sensation. Matteo's eyes were on her. It was as though the air around her thickened, leaving her breathless, as if she were drowning in a sea of unseen emotions. Perhaps he was just looking past her, but the intensity of his gaze made her doubt that.

"Rila, are you even listening?" Draco's voice cut through her daze, pulling her back to reality. She blinked, her cheeks flushing as she realized where her thoughts had wandered.

She smiled sheepishly, trying to shake off the embarrassment. "Sorry, what were you saying?" she asked with a laugh, attempting to lighten the mood.

Draco's tone was tinged with playful annoyance as he repeated himself, "I was asking if you're excited for the first trip to Hogsmeade. It's been a while."

Rila chuckled, her brother's familiar exasperation warming her heart. She knew her attention span was notoriously short, especially when her mind was preoccupied with more intriguing matters-like the way Matteo's eyes seemed to see right through her. But that was a secret she kept locked away, even from herself.

Draco's question hung in the air for only a moment before a soft chuckle from across the table drew Rila's attention. Matteo Riddle, ever the enigma, was leaning back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on her with that familiar, unsettling intensity. But this time, there was a playful glint in his dark eyes, one that made Rila's heart skip a beat.

"Hogsmeade, huh?" Matteo drawled, his voice as smooth as velvet. "I can't imagine anything in that little village that could hold Rila's attention for more than five minutes." His smirk widened, daring her to respond.

Rila rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe I just need better company," she shot back, her tone light but laced with challenge.

Matteo's grin grew, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he locked eyes with her. "Is that an invitation, or are you trying to scare me off, Rila?"

She matched his gaze, refusing to back down. "If you're scared, Matteo, maybe you should stay behind. I wouldn't want you getting lost in the crowd."

Draco, sensing the brewing tension, interjected with a laugh. "Alright, you two, save it for the trip. The last thing we need is you two turning Hogsmeade into a battlefield."

Matteo chuckled, but his eyes never left Rila's. "A battlefield? No, Draco, I think it'll be more like a game. The kind where everyone knows who's going to win." his eyes showed psychotic desire his grin like a monster ready to bite into its prey

Rila's smile faltered slightly at the confidence in his tone, but she quickly recovered, raising an eyebrow. "We'll see about that," she replied, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.

As the group continued their banter, the tension between Rila and Matteo remained, an undercurrent that neither could ignore.

But eventually, the evening wore on, and the exhaustion of the day began to settle in. After bidding goodnight to her friends, Rila made her way back to the Slytherin common room, the familiar chill of the dungeons wrapping around her like a comforting blanket.

She slipped into her dormitory, the heavy door closing behind her with a soft click. The room was quiet, the only sound the distant crackling of the fire in the common room. Rila changed into her nightclothes, her mind still buzzing with the day's events, particularly the lingering look Matteo had given her. There was something about him that unsettled her, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

But as she slipped under the covers, the warmth of her bed began to lull her into a sense of security. Just as her eyelids grew heavy, a soft rustling noise by the window caught her attention. Rila frowned, sitting up and glancing towards the sound.

There, perched on the windowsill, was a sleek, dark owl with a letter tied to its leg. Rila's heart skipped a beat as she reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as she untied the parchment. The owl hooted softly before taking off into the night, leaving her alone with the ominous message.

She unfolded the letter with care, her breath hitching as she read the words scrawled in a messy, hurried hand:

Beware the path you tread, Rila. Blood traitors are never safe, not even among their own. Watch your back, or you'll find a knife in it sooner than you think.

Rila's blood ran cold as the warning sank in, the weight of the words pressing down on her like a leaden shroud. She scanned the note for any clue as to who might have sent it, but there was nothing-no signature, no sign of where it had come from.

Panic set in as she clutched the letter to her chest, her mind racing with possibilities. Was this a prank, or a genuine threat? Could it be related to her growing doubts about blood purity, or was it simply someone trying to scare her? She didn't know, and that uncertainty gnawed at her, making it impossible to relax.

Sleep was out of the question. Rila spent the rest of the night sitting up in bed, her eyes darting around the dark room, every creak and whisper of wind sending shivers down her spine. The usual comfort of the dungeons now felt oppressive, the shadows in the corners hiding unseen dangers.

By the time dawn began to break, Rila's nerves were frayed, her exhaustion overshadowed by a deep, gnawing fear. She knew she couldn't ignore the warning, but she also couldn't let it control her. Whoever had sent it, they were trying to unsettle her, and they had succeeded.

But Rila was determined not to show it. As she got up to face the new day, she steeled herself with a resolve born of both fear and defiance. She would find out who was behind the threat, and when she did, they would learn that Rila Malfoy was not so easily intimidated.

Eat You Alive (M. Riddle)Where stories live. Discover now