LUNACY ll Mattheo Riddle x Reader

66. ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ

Your Pov

"To the end of Hogwarts," I raise a glass quietly, to no one but myself. The firewhisky burns as it goes down, almost like it can sense that I'm trying to drown my emotions with it.

Everything hurts. And it's all so confusing.

I have to give up on the hope of recreating whatever Mattheo and I had before everything went downhill. The two lost teenagers who still believed in love are gone now. Reality hit the both of us too hard for either of us to be able to salvage anything from the ashes. And I respect myself too much to go back to him now, to pretend that everything is normal between us when I doubt they ever will be again.

Friends, then. We'll ease our way into a neutral friend zone. To see him knowing I can't have him will be painful, but it's a better fate than having to entirely drift apart from the one person who knows you better than you know yourself.

I Apparate onto the grounds of Malfoy Manor, and instantly grow alert. There's something sinister in the air tonight, something strong enough to have me sobering up in a matter of seconds.

Maybe it's just my imagination, but the steps of the stairs seem to creak loudly as I take them up to my bedroom. I hesitate at the bottom of the flight that leads to Mattheo's room. 

His absence didn't go unnoticed at today's graduation ceremony. Enzo and I searched for him, Enzo admittedly a bit more reluctantly than I did. He doesn't understand what caused the changes in Mattheo all of a sudden, because neither Mattheo and I were stupid enough to explain to him all about what Horcruxes are. It says something about his and Mattheo's friendship that Enzo has just been going along with it anyway, even going so far as to forgive Mattheo for the Cruciatus when Mattheo practically came groveling to him the other week.

I stare into the mirror in my vanity, at the face of a young woman with a crossroads lying ahead of her. One path would make me an accomplished member of high society, the wife of a lord with class and a reputation befitting her position. She'll spend the rest of her days socializing with the other elitist women and flaunt her husbands' money in the world's face, feigning ignorance as the rest of the world crumbles at her feet. Her mother's daughter, indeed.

Another road shows a life where I hold fear in one hand and a Death Eater's mask in another. Here, I would follow in my aunt's footsteps, become the right hand to the Dark Lord's heir, just as she did for the Dark Lord himself. With a reputation that precedes me, I would have no trouble taking leadership of the next generation of killers. Revered beyond imagination. They would all cower in my presence.

It's my choice. I could take my pick of either of the two possibilities, which is a luxury very few, if any, can afford at all these days. Guilt stabs me in the chest as my grievances against my situation grows. Neither of the options are suited to the life that I want. I should feel terrible about being so ungrateful, but I've never been the type to let my  conscience stop me from thinking things.

I don't want this life. I just want things to go back to the way they were. Where I had friends that cared for each other, and a person I could offer my unconditional love and wholehearted trust to.

I'm losing myself again. It's gone, that life is over. I need to stop living in the past before I end up dying in it.

A loud thud sounds against my bedroom door, jolting me awake. I'm hesitant as I walk up to it, unsure of what to expect. It's well past midnight now, too late for anyone to be visiting casually.

I raise my hand to the doorknob and carefully pry the door open.

And it takes everything in me not to scream.