Where The Light Finds Him | M.R.

0 0 2 .

"Fade into you."

Thursday, September 3rd

─────────── ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ───────────

The first few days of term slipped by without much notice.
Daisy fell into routine easily—classes, meals, evenings in the dorm.
By Thursday, everything felt normal again.

Mostly.

Daisy still couldn't seem to get the interaction with Mattheo out of her head, and she didn't know why. 

I mean, it wasn't a big deal. It was just an afterschool detention and a small, offhand compliment she shouldn't still be thinking about. 

For Merlin's sake, it had been three days!

And yet, for some unknown reason, she left her hair down that morning.

─────────── ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ───────────

Daisy and Poppy went to breakfast like normal, and just like every morning since the first day- she listened to Poppy rant about her hatred for Pansy Parkinson. 

Daisy barely had time to take a sip of her tea before Poppy started.

"I'm sorry, but there is actually no one I dislike more than Pansy Parkinson," she said, aggressively buttering her toast like it had personally wronged her. "The way she looked at me yesterday—did you see it? Like I'd committed a crime by existing."

Daisy huffed a quiet laugh, reaching for the jam. "You did spill pumpkin juice on her shoes."

"It was an accident," Poppy shot back. "And they weren't even nice shoes. I was doing her a favor."

Across from them, someone snorted. Daisy smiled faintly, only half listening as Poppy continued her increasingly passionate rant.

"I mean honestly, if she's going to act like that, she could at least have better hair. It's always so—so—"

Poppy made a vague, frustrated gesture around her own head.

Daisy nodded absentmindedly, her attention beginning to drift. The Great Hall felt warmer than usual, sunlight spilling across the long tables, catching on goblets and turning everything gold.

"I swear, if she says one more thing to me—"

Poppy cut herself off mid-sentence.

"...Wait."

Daisy blinked, glancing up. "What?"

But Poppy wasn't looking at her anymore.

Her eyes had shifted past Daisy's shoulder, narrowing slightly, expression changing in that subtle way that meant she'd noticed something interesting.

Daisy hesitated. "What?"

Poppy leaned forward just a fraction, lowering her voice. "Don't look right away."

That, of course, guaranteed Daisy absolutely would.

"...Why?"

"Because," Poppy said slowly, a hint of a grin tugging at her lips now, "Slytherin table. Right side."

Daisy's stomach did something small and annoying.

She waited exactly half a second before glancing over.

And there he was.

Mattheo Riddle was already looking at her.

Not in passing. Not accidentally.