XIV

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(TW!! Mentions of suicide. And blood.)
We got pretty deep into the woods before I stopped.
"I can't breathe." I told him, tiredly. He sat me down, leaning on a tree, he sat down facing me.
I leant my head back against the tree. I closed my eyes, all my body wanted was for me sleep.
"Hey, you gotta stay with me." Mattheo said grabbing my face and making me look at him.
"I know that's a lot to ask from you." He joked.
I whimpered.
"I was un-athletic enough, before almost dying." I said.
"We're not gonna make it back to school, are we?" He asked, now serious.
I shook my head, he stood and began to pace back and forth in thought, he stopped and said,
"Draco's- your house, isn't too far away."
"Mattheo I can't."
"What? Why not?"
"If Lucius and Narcissa see me like this they'll never let me leave the house again."
"Well we need to do something!" He snapped.
I glared at him, I didn't expect him to yell at me. He sighed. "I'm not gonna lose my brother, and my- I mean you, in the same day." He said with sadness in his voice, looking down at his feet. I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, then I realised I had made a bloody red hand print on his jumper. I removed it from him and looked down at my crimson stained palms, and remembered the stinging slice in my neck. I used the tree to keep myself balanced as I pull myself up.
"What are you d-" Mattheo began, I pulled off my t-shirt. He looked away eyes wide, I giggled a bit.
"Relax idiot, I'm not naked." I said and he slowly turned back.
(Y/n's wearing a black one of this:

A/n: My dumb ass not knowing what these things are called

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A/n: My dumb ass not knowing what these things are called. Btw this is probably the only time I will use a photo of her outfit.)
"Oh." Mattheo said.
"No need to sound so relieved." I said.
"I mean... dammit!" He smirked.
"Too much." I chuckled.
I sat back down on the tree. I bit my t-shirt and ripped off a small piece, then using it to wipe up blood. Then I got to my neck and lightly dabbed at it randomly, not being able to see the scar. Mattheo looked like he wanted to say something.
"Do you need help?" He finally asked.
"... yes please." I mumbled.
He came over to me and I handed him the now dripping red rag. He proceeded to wipe my neck clean and wrap it up.
"That's not gonna do much, we need to get you some proper help." He told me.
"It's only temporary, I'll be fine." I assured him, yet he didn't seem convinced.
"Where do we go?" I asked him woozily.
"There's no where we can go." He said.
"How about camping?" I suggested.
"Do you see any supplies?"
"You don't need supplies, you have me, I'm pretty much a professional camper, if I do say so myself." I said cockily.
"Oh yeah?" He laughed.
"No. I've never been camping in my life, but it's probably our only option." I confessed while he nodded in agreement.
"We should just go to sleep here, it's getting pretty dark now." He lay down by me, his arms under his head.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I said out of the blue.
"Huh?"
"About your father." There was no running from it now, and certainly no way I would forget.
"My father?" He played dumb.
"Voldemort."
"He's not my father." He lied.
"He called you 'son'."
"It's a figure of speech."
"Stop lying to me." I told him.
He let out a sigh, "I'll tell you about my family, if you tell me about yours."
"Draco hasn't already told you about his parents?"
"No I mean your... biological family."
It was a fair trade, secret for a secret.
"Fine. You first." I said.
"Well, Voldemort is me and Tom's father. Was Tom's father..." he began.
"You already knew that, because you are all knowing apparently." He rolled his eyes, joking.
"I do have a very god-like mind." I played along.
"The thing is, I have never thought of him as a father, or as that house as a home. Obviously we didn't have the average father, sons relationships. He was just the man brought us here. To him we were nothing but... things. In his eyes I am nothing but a mistake. My entire life I have had this emptiness. A lack of something, whether it was a family, a home, a normal life, no one knows. The only thing that I did know was that I always had my big brother by my side. I looked up to him more than anything in the entire world. Our father thought it was best we go to Hogwarts to study magic to the best of our abilities, because he was too busy to have taught us himself. He didn't have time for his own kids. All he foresaw for us was to be another one of his puppets. A couple of faces in a crowd. Cold blooded killers. Death eaters. I didn't want that, neither did Tom. We went to Hogwarts, we met new people, we made friends, we had classes, we got in trouble. A lot of trouble. For the first time in our lives we felt normal. Imagine how fast that would have all gone away if anyone found out..."
I thought about it, and understood why he felt that way.
"What about your mother?" I asked.
"I would tell you if I could, but I don't know anything about her myself. She was killed. Tom and I were too young to remember even the tiniest detail about her. We never asked about her."
"Why not?"
"I'm not sure, I guess we just didn't want to know."
I opened my mouth to ask more, but he interrupted me.
"Enough about that though, my turn to ask the questions now."
"Ok, shoot." I said getting a little nervous. "Just know it's about to get hella depressing." I warned.
"Do you mind if I ask how they... died?"
"No. My mother died in child birth, my father raised me for a few months. He k*lled himself when I was 8 months old, because he didn't want... me."I said, Mattheo frowned at me concerned.
"Which I think is a little dramatic but whatever." I added.
"I'm sorry." He said.
"Don't be. He had been going out of his mind for a while anyway, if I was with him any longer he probably would have killed me to.
The Malfoy's always tell me, I'm lucky they found me when they did." I said with a shrug as if this were all perfectly normal.
Mattheo nodded along.
"Actually that's why I don't celebrate my birthday." I mentioned. He tilted his head at me, confused.
"Every birthday is just another reminder that I'm the reason my parents are dead." I explained further.
"Oh come on! You gotta know that's not true. You don't have control over who your family is, I would know. It's not your fault that your mother passed, or that your dad was a bit of a nutter."
"Not just a bit. Complete nutter." I corrected.
We both laughed.
"Now that I think about it, that's probably why the Professors at school are always walking on egg shells around me. They think I'm gonna lose it like my old man. Which I get, I think that too sometimes."
"Oh um about that, do you remember that day with the sorting hat incident?" Mattheo asked.
"Oh you mean when I accidentally killed it?"
"Yeah... well that same thing happened to my father when he went to Hogwarts."
"So they're giving me special treatment because they think I'm gonna end up like your dad? That's even worse! No offence."
"None taken." He chuckled.
"Sweet." I said.
He sat up and looked at me, puzzled.
"Now whenever I act angry they'll do whatever they can to make sure I don't, murder someone. I basically own them now." I joked.
We shared a laugh. Slowly I lay down next to him and said, "I'm tired."
"I know."

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