Mattheo's Pov
Theo, Blaise, and Fey were sleeping in my bed. Wrapped around each other tightly, there was no room for even Jesus between them. I sat in the chair across from them, watching as they slept.
It was late, nearly three in the morning, but the burning in my skull and the stinging in my left forearm were too great to ignore.
He was calling for me. Screaming that I come to him, but I was stubborn.
I was scared.
I had never been scared before, never had a reason to be afraid before. I always live my life on the edge of pain and suffering.
My own and others.
Then she came waltzing in and changed it all. Now, I had something to lose. Something he could take from me. Something he could fucking use against me.
Theo turned over, and I froze, holding my breath.
When he settled again, I relaxed, sighing.
I need to do something.
A million things raced through my mind.
Only a few stood out.
I could run.
I could lie.
I could leave.
What a fucking joke. He'd track me down no matter what and make sure I was dead.
No way he'd ever let me out alive.
My eyes widened slightly as a new thought wormed to the forefront of my mind. The pieces fell into place too perfectly as I thought it over.
It was stupid.
Very, very, very stupid, but sometimes stupid works.
I mean, I got Fey, and I'm pretty fucking stupid sometimes.
My eyes wandered over to her again. Her ashy hair spread over Blaise's face, and her leg was thrown across Theo's hip.
I stifled my laugh; she was the biggest bed hog.
She was worth it.
Worth the risk. I knew it deep inside my blackened soul.
My eyes focused on her, wrapped around my friends, when a soft knock rapped against my door.
My eyes rolled of their own accord.
It was just like him to send someone to retrieve me.
He could never take a God damn hint.
I stood and stretched, my knees popping as I did. Snatching my wand and a jumper, I opened the door a crack and found Snape glaring.
"Save it," I grumbled, "I'm coming," I slipped on my shoes and out the door, and pulled on my jumper as I followed the grumpy fucker to his office. He stayed silent and stepped inside. Closing the door and locking it behind us.
He stepped into the floo and, with dead, glaring eyes, shouted for Malfoy Manor.
I did the same. I scooped a handful of the chalky green powder into my hand and stepped into the fireplace. Crunching the old burnt logs under my feet before tossing the powder down and yelling for Malfoy Manor.
My hell.
Sucked into a blinding vortex of green flames, I held my breath and almost instantly came out the other end in Malfoy's grand dining room. I shook off the soot and stepped out, carefully surveying my surroundings.
The long elegant table was filled with Death Eaters I had come to know well over the years. They sat silently, staring at me as I approached the only empty seat next to the head of the table.
I eyed the others: Lucius Malfoy, who looked sickly and stressed, with his wife standing behind him, clutching his shoulder. Walden Macnair and Algernon Avery sat close together on the edge of their chairs as if they might run at any moment. Vincent Crabbe, Garrison Goyle, and Tiberius Nott, the assholes, sat back comfortably as ever, grinning, just waiting for the 'party' to start. Corban Yaxley and Alecto and Amycus Carrow, the final group, sat eagerly with their fingers laced together and voices low as they spoke too low for me to hear.
I took my seat, plopping down, as if I didn't have a care in the world. Pettigrew, the unfortunate chap, came up beside me nervously, muttering the entire way, "Can I get you a drink, Master Riddle?"
I shook my head, not speaking. I didn't dare.
I could feel his eyes on me and his mind prying around the edge of my own, searching for a weakness.
"Mattheo," his voice hissed lowly, sounding more snake than man.
My eyes darted up to his. Connecting with deep, bloody red ones that seemed to go on forever. An endless emptiness, void of all that made a man human, "Yes, father?"
"You're late..."
I shrugged.
His eyes narrowed as he watched me closely. When he didn't get the desired reaction, he turned to the table, "We're here because we need to release our fellow members from Azkaban."
Whispers broke out among the others, but I sat still waiting.
"We have been without them for far too long. It is past time they join us again."
"My lord... Who are we freeing?"
He growled low in his chest, "Are you questioning me, Avery?"
Avery shook his head quickly, "No, no," he stuttered, "I was just beginning to formulate a plan, My Lord."
It was silent momentarily, "Good, but there is no need. We already have a plan. Mattheo, Lucius, Alecto, and Amycus will be doing the hard work."
Voices whispered again, their heads bowed together.
"We will release everyone," My father waved his wand in the air, showing images of the names he called out, "Antonin Dolohov, Dirk Gibbon, Aaron Jugson, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Wulfric Mulciber, Augustus Rookwood, Thorfinn Rowle, and Torquil Travers."
Cheers rang out from all of the low lives sitting around the table. The realization had dawned on me as I sat watching and listening to my 'father' speak.
They were killers, cheering for killers.
Typically I wouldn't give a flying fuck, but these old geezers didn't have minds of their own. They took orders, following them blindly, and he gave the order to kill me or anyone I considered mine. They would be on the chopping block...
"After their release..." the cheering died as he spoke, "We have a mission I will need you all to be a part of..."
I was only vaguely aware of his words now. He spoke of the Ministry and a prophecy, but it was nonsense. I was focused on my mission, protecting what was mine.
"...you have until then. Be gone."
I stood from my chair, the legs of it scrapping against the tile floor. Before I could turn to the floo, a boney hand clamped around my upper arm, stopping me in my tracks.
"Mattheo..." The undertone of disappointment and anger was laced through his words as I turned to face him.
My father stood before me, his gaze level with my own.
"You were late..."
I shrugged again, choosing not to respond.
Gazing around the room, I watched as the others left one by one, leaving in thick puffs of black smoke until only the Malfoys and Snape were waiting and watching.
"It reflects poorly on me when my son does not show up on time..."
"I was asleep," I lied, eyes baring down on his.
His hand stuck out quicker than I could detect and stuck me across the face. His nails cut into my skin, sharp like a blade, "You will not speak to me with such a tone."
Holding my face, I rubbed the spot he had hit and felt blood welling under my hand.
"It sets a bad example for the others. You must be one that they all look up to, Mattheo," He released my arm. His long, pale fingers curled in on themselves as he reached into his cloak pocket to retrieve his wand, "For your careless behavior tonight, you will be punished," his wand was level with my chest.
Keeping my face neutral and my jaw clenched, I nodded. Nothing went unpunished.
I didn't hear him utter the spell, but as the pain unfolded throughout my body, I knew that he went for the unforgivable.
His tired and true.
Staying standing was impossible. I lost control of my limbs immediately, my knees buckling, sending me to the floor. Trying my best not to scream, not to show him any weakness, I ground my teeth together, but he bared down, doubling the intensity of his spell until I finally howled in pain.
Every nerve I had was on fire. The feeling of a thousand knives flirting just under the surface of my skin flickered across my body, transforming into a more profound pain as the invisible knives sank into the muscle, causing me to stiffen and groan as they twisted in their imaginary wounds.
"Eyes open, Mattheo, show no weakness," he spoke at me with tired, bored eyes.
This was just another day for him. Torturing his son.
I flicked my eyes to him, staring him down. Hoping he could see my anger even though I screamed.
"Good, good."
He continued his torture longer still. Watching me the entire time. No more words were spoken between us, not even when he flicked his wand away.
He watched me pant and struggle for breath.
He watched me struggle to my feet and waved me away before turning from me without a care in the word.
My shoulders slumped as I took tentative steps toward the floo. Arms came around me, catching me before I could fall to the floor.
"Every time, Mattheo," the voice spoke low and soft.
I attempted to shrug but could not move any part of my aching body.
"Severus, it is not the time to berate the boy," Narssisa chastised my professor. She moved into my line of sight and pushed my sweat-soaked hair from my eyes, "Darling, he did a number on you."
Her soft hand cupped my cheek, "I'm sor-"
"Don't. I have a son. I know what you teen boys are like. Rebellious and annoying."
I gave her best smile, "Thanks, mum..." I whispered cockily.
"Oh, stop it, Mattheo," but still she smiled before turning to Snape, "Get him into bed right away, and check on him often."
Snape moved us away from her and into the fireplace. I leaned against him and smiled at Narssissa. The only mother I had ever known before we were pulled into green flames and darkness.
We arrived once more in Snape's office. Sunlights streamed through the windows as we brushed off the soot. My body protested, but I could no longer bear to be touched by Snape.
My legs threatened to give way, but still, I went on with him following behind me silently as we walked through the dim common room. The stairs were the most problematic part; each step caused my legs to ache and scream.
I swore I could feel my 'lovely' professor rolling his eyes as he followed me down the corridor, a menacing presence at my back. He still waited at my side as I pulled my wand free from my trousers to unlock my dorm.
Before I could push the door open, it was pulled from the other side, revealing a tired-looking Fey who rubbed her eyes.
"Mattheo?"
Snape spoke, "Ms. Sterling, what in the world are you doing in Mr. Riddle's dorm?"
Her eyes widened and darted to our Professor, who, until he spoke, blended into the shadows.
"Pro- Professor Snape, I-I don't..."
He raised a brow, "Don't what? Know how you ended up in the boy's dormitories? Or don't know how you ended up in Mr. Riddle's dorm room specifically?"
She was shocked. A blush crept over her cheeks as he stared her down.
"Professor," I started, not liking the way he was speaking to her.
He held up a hand, silencing me, "I don't care. I am going to pretend that I never saw this. In return, you will care for Mr. Riddle's injuries tonight and tomorrow. You'll be excused from your classes," with that he walked away, stopping when he reached the end of the hall.
He turned back to us, "Don't let me catch you here at this time of night again, Ms. Sterling."
Fey nodded quickly, her fingers tugging down the ends of the shirt she had been sleeping in.
Snape walked away again, this time disappearing.
We sighed, and Fey snapped back to reality. Her mind seemed to catch up to the words he had spoken, "You're injured?"
I shook my head and did my best to push past her. My attempt at walking normally failed. My knees gave way five steps in, and her arms wrapped around my waist.
"Mattheo, what happened? Where were you?" She paused only a moment to right her hold on me as we walked, "Oh God, how bad are you hurt?"
She led me into the bathroom off to the side. The lights flickered, illuminating the mess littering the counter. Hair products, bandages, deodorant, tape, you name it, and it was probably on my bathroom counter.
"Fuck me, I need to clean up," I whispered, groaning as I sank back onto the edge of the tub.
Fey waved away my words and sank to her knees as she searched under the sink. She pulled out more junk until, finally, she pulled out a tiny first aid kit. Crawling over on her knees, she stopped before me and searched me with her eyes, "Where else are you hurt, Mattheo?"
"Nowhere else, my love."
Her frown tugged at my chest, "Matty," her voice was soft, but her eyes spoke volumes, "Don't lie to me. When you lie to me, you tell me you think I'm stupid."
I placed my hand on hers as she rummaged through the first aid kit, "I don't think you're stupid, Little Fox," Taking a deep breath, I told her, "It was my father."
Fey's intake of breath was all I needed to know. She was surprised, but I didn't stop. The dark twisted and fucked up part of me demanded that I tell her.
"I went to see him tonight after he called for me," I tugged up the sleeve on my left arm and revealed the Dark Mark that had been branded into my skin since I was ten.
"I tried to ignore him, but he sent someone to collect me," I could hear the pout in my own voice, and I sneered at my own weakness, "I was late tonight. He didn't like that," Looking into her eyes, I saw fear and sadness, "My father tortured me," My head dropped, and I took in the tile floor, which was surprisingly clean compared to the clutter in the rest of my bathroom.
"Oh, Matty," her voice rang out in the silent bathroom, echoing off the walls.
I expected the sound of pity from her. What I did not expect were her arms that crashed around me in an embrace so tight and all-consuming that she knocked me into the bathtub and fell over with me.
Tears sprang into my eyes, not from my sore body, but that was definitely a factor, but from the emotion that welled in my chest as she held me tightly.
"Fuck me, Fey. I love you."
She sprang back, pulling me up, muttering, "Shit, shit shit. I'm so sorry, Mattheo. Oh fuck, that must have hurt."
Laughter burst from me, and she looked up at me from the floor in shock before her little giggles followed my boisterous laughter. She wrapped her arms around my waist and let her head rest in my lap as we settled. Here in the bathroom, at God knows what fucking hour in the morning, I felt so relaxed.
"Come on, love," I brushed her hair to the side, "Let's finish this so we can get into bed."
Fey nodded and pulled back from me slowly. She set to work cleaning my face carefully. She bandaged it with more care than I would have myself before tucking everything away under the sink. She helped me to my feet and back into bed, pushing Theo and Blaise to the far side before climbing in.
She pulled off my jumper and trousers and settled in, sitting on my waist with a little bottle.
"Oh darling, as much as I love you, I don't think I'm up for this."
Her mouth fell open, and she smacked my chest lightly as she grinned, "Mattheo, don't be so naughty."
Fey poured some of the lotion into her hands and worked it into my skin. My muscles were still stiff and aching.
That was the thing about mental spells. They were the worst. Even knowing the experience wasn't real didn't help. It still felt real, and it never mattered how often you experienced the Cruciatus curse. It always felt brand new.
I groaned as she worked out the stiffness. My eyes grew heavy as she cared for me. My heart overflowing with longing and love. Before she could do anything else, I brought her down to rest with me—her head on my chest and her warmth seeping into my bones.
"Fuck I love you."