(A/N: Just FYI, for the diary writing, Nora's writing is in Bold, and Mattheo's is in Italics)

From the moment Nora had stepped into her family's modest home, it had been hell. Well, if hell was her mother being drunk on absinthe while simultaneously high off of some muggle drug she'd discovered during a visit to the nearby village and if it meant her brother gloating about his Quidditch prowess (which wasn't that good, especially now that Nora was improving steadfastly under Enzo's tutelage) constantly. If Nora didn't pretend to praise him, she'd receive a sharp slap to the cheek before she bit her tongue and smiled and complimented him while he incorrectly pronounced words to a sport he was paid to play.

Yeah, it was hell.

Not to mention the abysmal food—her mother had fired the last house elf and the new one was old and cranky and seemed to be sneaking something into her mother's serving—plus the cold, creaky house that had never really felt like home. The tree in the corner of the living room had lost most of its needles because the one in charge of keeping it alive and beautiful was Christopher. And… well… she'd already said how incompetent he was.

Nora huffed and walked around the house. She'd noticed that if she stayed in one place for too long, her mother would wander into the room and either complain about her daughter's talent—"It's not fair! I-I-I was the one who was supposed to be y-young and b-beautiful!" she would slur—or complain about her daughter's lack of talent—"You could be a lot more like your b-brother. A f-f-fine vision of his father."

Nora didn't hate her mother but she didn't love her either. It was hard to love someone who felt distant and unknown. It was like living with a stranger she vaguely resembled. She hated Christopher but almost everyone who met him—save for his kind yet ignorant girlfriend Imani—did. He just made it so easy, what with his pride that failed to match up to his pitiful skills and his temper that was somehow worse than Mattheo's.

Mattheo. She hated to admit it—and she never would admit it out loud—but she missed him. She had half a mind to apparate to him since she was eighteen and had received her license last year but the red mark on her cheek stopped her. Nora wasn't a particularly skilled healer since there were no Hogwarts classes on the subject and she had a bad feeling for what Mattheo might do if he saw it. He already didn't want her coming back to Rosier House. It would just be proving him right if he saw her like this. Plus, as much as she hated her brother, she didn't want him dead. And though she wanted to believe that Mattheo wouldn't kill Christopher for laying a hand on her, it wasn't a bet she'd place money on.

Nora had seen the look in his eyes when he caught her and Linc together. The black fury had clouded his chocolate irises, making him look a lot more like the terrible Riddle others made him out to be. Plus, after what happened to Dean Thomas when she got injured in Quidditch… well, she had reason to believe that he would make very good on his threats. Dean scattered every time she got near him and he was in the hospital wing for a few days with an injury he refused to say the origins of.

Despite what many people may think, Mattheo Riddle wasn't nice. He had friends and he was an outgoing chap but he wasn't necessarily nice. He'd never been nice. "Nice" wasn't what you called a bloke who'd been burying bodies since he was eleven. "Nice" wasn't what you called a man who was always about five seconds away from punching whoever was unfortunately in front of him. "Nice" wasn't what professors would say about the boy who could smuggle anything—even Death Eaters if he wanted—into the school, using his skills to sell the alcohol that didn't make it to his parties.

Mattheo might have been loyal to his friends—and her. He might have cared about them—and her. He might even be willing to die for them—and her. But he wasn't nice.

And Nora was beginning to really, really like that.

But still, as horrible as he was, Christopher was still her brother. While he might have no problem spilling her blood, she wasn't going to spill his.

Yet.

Nora continued her walk around the house, ignoring her mother's moans coming from upstairs. By now, the ketamine she'd stolen from a muggle boy was probably wearing off. She'd be wanting more and Nora wasn't some peasant errand girl. Best to just ignore the moans. Her mother would probably have a field day knowing her daughter's hearing wasn't perfect anyway so, really, she was doing Nova a favor.

Downstairs wasn't any better, though. Nora's brother was at the dining table, a newspaper in hand. From where she stood, Nora could see the headline, Rosier? More like Losier. Christopher Rosier's Abysmal Performance leads to Wasps' Sixth Loss In A Row.

Carefully, Nora left the dining room before her brother noticed and gave her a mark on her left cheek to match the one on her right. He hated being reminded that he wasn't good at Quidditch. Good enough to be in the professional leagues but bad enough to suck in them.

This is dreadful, Nora thought with a sneer as she made her way up to her bedroom, accepting that, if her mother found her there, a drug errand was better than a slap from her brother. It's Christmas and I'm spending it hiding from my family.

Well, that was the holidays in Rosier house. The Three Big A's. Avoidance, Arrogance, and Alcoholism.

How fun for her.

But then her eyes landed on the diary Mattheo had given her. The one that used to belong to his Father.

It'd been sitting on her desk in the corner of the room ever since she'd arrived. Even though she only left Hogwarts on the twenty-second, Nora had a feeling those three days had sucked for Mattheo. He was probably tearing out his curls—and annoying poor Theodore Nott—since she'd failed to contact him. Nora could imagine Mattheo being a little clingy like that, especially since he'd insisted on spending almost every night together and sitting by her in all the classes they shared. Nora hadn't even known her schedule was the exact same as his until he traded all of her seat partners with a cheeky grin.

Not that Nora minded clingy, of course. It was nice to have someone she didn't need to avoid. Plus, it didn't hurt that that person happened to give amazing head.

She hadn't even realized that she'd gotten out of her bed and walked over to the desk until she was sitting at it with the diary in her hands. This is weird, right? What if it doesn't even work? What if he doesn't answer? But those questions were all just distractions from the biggest one plaguing her mind: What if this takes us to a place we can't go back from?

What if, by contacting him, she was admitting how she felt about him?

Nora's fingers lingered on the edge of the beaten leather cover. She supposed Aditi would be calling her a commitmentphobe right now, which was rich coming from the girl who was the complete antithesis of the word.

What's the harm in trying? Maybe, if you wrote in the damn book, you might not feel alone on Christmas Day, she could practically hear Aditi's voice taunt in her head. Plus, can you imagine the sexy things he'll write you? Merlin…

Well, that was certainly enough to convince Nora.

She thanked invisible-Aditi and opened the journal, dipping a quill in ink before writing timidly, Mattheo?

A few minutes passed where Nora felt like a total idiot for writing to a piece of paper expecting a response before the next words slowly appeared on the page as if she were watching him write them through a mirror. Princess, thank Merlin. I was so worried. How are you?

Other than feeling like a total idiot for talking to a book, I'm okay.

Just okay?

Better now.

She ran the quill all along her lips while she waited for his next response. After the first few, they were rather quick but Mattheo seemed to be thinking of what to say, which felt dangerous. She'd be a very poor witch if she bet on what Mattheo was bound to say next.

Finally, four little words appeared on the page. Four little words that made her heart clench in ways she wasn't sure it should be clenching. Perhaps she should see Madam Pomfrey. This certainly wasn't normal.

I miss you, Nor.

Before Nora could even think and put another necessary wall between them, her hand was writing back, You miss fucking me.

He didn't hesitate. I miss you. Now it felt like her heart was doing somersaults. No, it was doing bloody Wronski-Feints. Then, a few seconds later, the next words appeared. But I also miss fucking you.

Nora laughed, which probably made her look like a crazy person, staring at this damn notebook and laughing at a boy who was probably hundreds of miles away. But if she was crazy, at least she was crazy for him. The boy who was insane.

How convenient, Nora wrote. I also miss you… and fucking you.

I'm already picturing what I'll do when I see you again.

And what will you do, Matty?

First of all, fuck from behind with your arms tied to the headboard for calling me that. Nora's stomach fluttered and her legs clenched together as if on instinct. This boy did crazy things to her. Second of all, I'd kiss you senselessly and chain you to me so you can't leave me again.

You're bloody crazy!

You haven't seen the half of it, babygirl.

"What the fuck are you smiling at?" her brother sneered from the doorway. Nora gasped and quickly slammed the diary, praying he hadn't noticed it. She hadn't even heard him approach.

Christopher sauntered into the room, his stocky figure bumping into her dresser before it settled beside the desk. He snatched the journal from her hands. "Little Nora got herself a diary? What secrets do you have inside?"

But to both of their surprise, when Christopher opened it, the pages were suddenly blank. "What the fuck?"

"I haven't written anything in it," Nora said quickly as she reached for the diary. But though she was fast, Christopher was still stronger. It was impossible to wrench it from his grip. "Give it back. I was going to get a start on next term's homework."

"Why should I?" he taunted with a look on his face that suggested he'd just been around a Dung Bomb. "Maybe Little Nora could use a bad grade or two. You could use getting humbled. Little Miss Perfect. More like Little Miss Piece of Shit, you—"

But Christopher was cut off with an exclamation of pain as Nora kicked him in the shin. She grabbed the journal but not before he'd taken a chunk of her hair. "You fucking bitch! You've always been such a cunt!"

Nora, not knowing what to do as her brother glared at her with intense anger in his violent eyes, quickly grabbed the inkwell off her desk and threw it at his eyes. "Oh, you little shit!" he yelled as he desperately tried to rub the ink off.

Nora grabbed her quill, noticing that a few words had appeared on the page. Nora? Nora?! Mattheo's writing was much more jagged than before. Nora, baby, tell me you're okay. I think we got disconnected.

Where are you? Nora's handwriting was horribly messy but she had to get this out before her brother got the ink off.

Theo and I got to Hogwarts this morning. Why?

How soon can you be here?

"Argh!" Christopher yelled. He'd apparently worked through the ink enough to open his now-bloodshot eyes and fix her with the fiercest glare she'd ever seen. "Come here, you fucking bitch!"

Nora clambered over the bed, throwing the diary on the floor. Perhaps if she would have kept it, she would have seen Mattheo's quick response. I'm coming, babygirl.

But as far as she knew, no one was coming for her.

She reached the door before her brother reached her. She sprinted down the hallway before descending the stairs, thankful that her brother was such a big oaf. She could hear his thundering steps and labored breathing from behind her. Christopher had never been as quick as her.

But Nora hadn't realized she'd cornered herself in the living room until she heard the crackling of the fire over the sounds of her moaning mother. "Shit," she hissed to herself.

Christopher chuckled darkly, ink still dripping off his face and onto the floor. Nora tried to keep her chin high but it was hard when she was looking into the face of pure pain. Still, better to keep her pride. It might be all that's left of her before long.

"Well, well, well, look who's stuck. Let's see how you like ink in your fucking eyes, Nora." His eyes flashed to the fire behind her. "Or maybe you'll prefer the poker? Madam Pomfrey will have a field day trying to heal you when I'm done with you."

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size, you fucking piece of shit?" a dark voice growled from behind Christopher. Nora's heart flipped at the sound. He came. He came for me.

"What the fuck?" Christopher said angrily as he turned only to stare pure darkness in the face.

Mattheo was there looking like an angel of vengeance. No, he looked like the devil. His eyes were completely black. His face, normally lighthearted and amused, was nothing less than furious. Nora was half-worried that he would break his jaw if he continued to clench it like that. Not to mention his fists, which were curled so tightly the knuckles had turned white.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"Gladly," Mattheo said with a smirk that didn't even come close to reaching his eyes. "As soon as you get away from my girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend?" Christopher gestured to Nora. Normally, Mattheo's eyes might have gone over to her but they were still glued on her brother. Nora was almost glad. She didn't want to see him soften right now. Not for her.

"Yeah. Mine. And if you had any sense, you'd get far away from her. That is if you like keeping your bones where they are." Mattheo grinned but it was far from friendly. He looked like he was seconds away from killing everyone in a ten-mile radius. "Personally, I like to do a little rearrangement. It's your choice."

Christopher snorted and turned to Nora. "Who's this jackass?"

But that proved to be a mistake. Mattheo quickly stood in front of her brother, a deadly smile on his face. At first, Nora was worried about what would happen between the two boys—worried for her boyfriend, certainly not her brother. But she shouldn't have been. Because not only was Mattheo larger than Christopher—-taller and with a little more muscle—but he was also the son of two of the most dangerous wizards in the world. And… well… like father, like son.

"You don't look at her. You don't speak to her. You don't think about her," Mattheo growled, his hand wrapping around Christopher's neck. Christopher, clearly startled to be bested by anyone—especially someone younger than him—widened his eyes and flailed around. In any other situation, Nora might have laughed at the sight. However, she was too busy trying to decide if she was still afraid of being hurt or utterly turned on by the manly display in front of her. Unfortunately, her body seemed to be leaning toward the latter.

"This is between you and me. And we're going to have a lot of fun. Isn't that right, Chris?" Mattheo sneered.

"G-get o-off me!" Christopher wheezed.

Mattheo shook his head, delight filling his face. "Nuh-uh-uh, Chrissy. Not until we're done. And we are far from done." He landed a few punches on Christopher. Nora could tell that her brother's nose was broken and it looked like a few teeth fell out as well. She wasn't entirely sure, as she was much more focused on the blood splatters on Mattheo's face and her worries on why she was so attracted to it. It was like seeing him—-seeing this violent man hell-bent on protecting her—released a whole different level of attraction.

It felt so wrong but, then again, nothing with Mattheo Riddle was going to ever be right.

"Do you know who I am?" Mattheo taunted as he dragged his mother's knife down Christopher's face. A trail of blood followed the dagger's path. Christopher shook his head, smearing it all over Mattheo's hand. Her boyfriend just smiled even wider. "Mattheo. Thomas. Riddle. Sound familiar?"

Christopher whimpered and squirmed even more but it was as if Mattheo's grip was ironclad. Her brother didn't stand a chance of escaping it.

"Nora, baby," Mattheo called with a distracted voice, still not taking his eyes off his prey.

"Yeah?"

"Go outside and wait for me. Okay, princess?"

"Okay." She turned and began to walk out the door, really not wanting to push him when he was acting like this. But before she left, she turned back. "Don't kill him, please."

Mattheo clenched his jaw. "How do you feel about maiming?"

"It's not killing, is it?"

Mattheo grinned. "Merlin, I love you."

Nora quickly ran upstairs and packed what little of her trunk she had gotten out, including the diary. She carried it downstairs, making a point to ignore her mother's incoherent ramblings. Nova Rosier got worse with every day and, at this point, Nora was happy to never return here again. She vowed to stay at Hogwarts over Easter and get her own flat after she left Hogwarts. No matter what, she was done with this family. For good.

It was at least half an hour before Mattheo walked back out, almost completely covered in blood. "Do I still have a brother?" Nora asked almost timidly.

"Unfortunately, yes." Mattheo grinned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. She didn't care that he had blood all over him. Nora sensed that he needed this more than she did.

"You came," she whispered, hugging him tightly. Mattheo settled into the embrace, his hand coming up to nestle in her hair.

"Of course I did. You needed me. I'll always come."

Nora squeezed him even more. "Can we go now? I really don't want to be here anymore and you need to bathe."

"Is that an invitation?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous. No, you're crazy, Matty." Nora sighed and inhaled his smoky, spicy scent before whispering, "But, you're my ridiculous, crazy boy."

Within seconds, Nora found herself standing in the Slytherin Common Room, her arms still wrapped around Mattheo. She didn't ask how he'd managed to apparate past the wards. All she cared about was how relieved she felt to be out of that house and back with him.

"Thanks for rescuing me," she said softly as he took her hand and led her up to his room.

Mattheo looked back at her with heat in his eyes. "I will always protect you." Nora couldn't help but blush. "I don't want you going back there."

"Then it's a good thing I don't want to go back."

"If you ever need a place to stay, then come to Riddle Manor. Merlin knows that Tom would probably prefer you come than watch me suffer."

"You suffered this Christmas?"

"Terribly," Mattheo whispered. "Not knowing if you were okay was pure torture. I never want to go through it again."

Nora smiled half-heartedly before squeezing his hand. "Well, you don't have to. I already told you I'm not going back."

"Good."

"You know, I seem to remember being promised two things would happen as soon as you laid eyes on me…"

Mattheo's eyes darkened once again but for an entirely different reason. His lips pulled up in a haughty smirk as he drew her closer. "Oh yeah? I think I'm beginning to remember that too."

He leaned in to kiss her but Nora pulled back, chuckling as she saw his fallen face. "After you take a bath."

But instead of looking disappointed, Mattheo's eyes gleamed. "You know, we have a few days until they're expecting us at the ball… want to spend them doing those two things over and over?"

Nora's breath hitched. "Yes," she whispered.

So she let Mattheo pull her upstairs, where he gave her the best damn Christmas present of her life. Multiple rounds of it.

And later in the night as their whispers filled the room, when their bodies were too tired to continue but their minds were far too awake to sleep so soon, Nora realized something.

That life with him was becoming as simple and as easy as breathing. That nights with him were far better than nights without. That maybe her icy walls had melted for this fiery boy.

That maybe she loved him.

Y'all, I did NOT picture this chapter turning out like this but I just kind of let it happen and I'm so glad I did because I think this is my favorite chapter of this story. I dunno, the possessiveness and protectiveness plus Nora realizing she's in love and the little journal. Like I really like this one and I hope you do too!