LUNACY ll Mattheo Riddle x Reader

62. ᴠᴏʟᴀᴛɪʟᴇ

short chapter today but get excited cuz this is the final buildup to the biggest WHAT-THE-FUCK moment that i've ever written before <333 (that means next chapter's cliff hanger is gonna have you guys cussing the hell outta me eek can't wait :))

My father returns home that dawn drenched in blood.

The death stare he wears as he walks in through the front door lets me and Draco know that whatever questions we have for what happened with the Order of the Phoenix last night should wait. I don't think the blood on his once impeccable dragon leather robes is his, but the other Death Eaters who Apparate in soon after that are all sporting severe wounds.

Ambushed in their own territory. That's what I manage to gather after listening around. How fittingly humiliating for them.

Enzo, Draco, and I decide to hole up in Enzo's guest room for the next few hours, just until most of the cluster downstairs has gone away. It turns out, however, that my father has different plans for me. Because as soon as Mother has finished healing him up, he's upon us in a flash. The next thing I know, I'm being dragged out of the room by my arm, while a bewildered Draco and a concerned Enzo try and fail to follow us out.

"What are you doing?" I ask my father in an unbothered tone. "I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own, you know. If you'd just tell me where we're going."

He doesn't answer, only marches onward with a furious look in his eyes. He releases me only once we're in our library, from where he then locks the doors shut before turning on me.

"Can I help you, father?" I deadpan.

The man struggles to find the right words for a long while. "The Dark Lord," my father grits out, when he finally manages it, "Has expressed his wishes for you to, ah, succeed me."

A chill comes over me, but on the outside, I act as though I couldn't care less. "Heard as much. Any reason you're telling me this now?"

He levels me with a glower powerful enough to set my hairs on edge. "That boy," my father spits out with malice, "For some reason, he failed to recall that it was you the Dark Lord wanted on the task tonight. Not myself."

"Oh."

My father sneers at me. "Yes, oh. I suspect Riddle is having a nice little chat with his father right now, all about where and how things went wrong tonight. He'll be twisting the story around to put the blame on me, mark my words. Regardless of how he is the sole one at fault."

"As intriguing as your grudge against a seventeen year old boy is, I don't see why you had to drag me all the way here to tell me this."

He grits his teeth, but appears to make an effort to calm himself. "Have Riddle tell his father that you don't want my job. Make sure you don't seem like you're turning down the honor. Humble yourself. Do it so that Riddle believes you don't think yourself deserving of it."

I stare at him in disbelief. "Just what makes you think I'd listen to you?"

"You don't want any part of his regime," my father says in an accusatory voice. "Don't try to deny it. I may not be attentive, but I'm not blind."

"Who knows? Maybe the thought of making you miserable is more appealing to me than you think."

"Y/n," he growls, "You will do as I say. Convince Riddle that your kill of Dumbledore was a fluke. Nothing but a stroke of luck that hit a terrified, emotional little girl. You weren't meant to become a leader of the Death Eaters. Simply the wife of a lord, the future heiress to another line of purebloods. As was expected of you before all this."

I could agree. It would be easy enough. And despite the insulting wording, I'd prefer any kind of life to the one I'd have if I were to take my father's place in the new reign.

Too bad for him that I've always been one to hold grudges.

"Scared of your own daughter, father?" I grin up at him. "Frightened that me replacing you will expose you for the fraud that you are? Power built on nothing, skill exaggerated tenfold, desperately dragging others down to keep your head above the water?"

My father's face turns a horrific shade of purple. He lifts up his snake's head cane, swings it in a wide arc above us.

And just before it comes crashing down, a tortured roar shakes the ground.

Both he and I snap our heads in the direction of the door. One second later, we're pushing each other out of the way in a mad scramble for it. I get out first, and immediately turn in the direction of where the scream came from.

The ballroom at Malfoy Manor is seldom used. Mother prefers evening banquets in the dining hall, or conversations under the glittering lights of the main foyer to the lavish tradition of ballroom dancing. A good thing, too, because I don't think anyone could be paid to attend a ball here now, not when the marble floors have been entirely stained in blood.

Trembling figures lie in various spots in the room, those that are still capable of proper movement desperately trying to crawl to safety. The Death Eaters lucky enough to have been spared from such treatment stand backed against the walls, retreating as far as they can from the boy with a lunatic inferno raging in his eyes.

"Leaving so soon, Travers?" Mattheo leers at the Death Eater closest to the door, one whom I have to stumble away from when he throws himself at my feet. "Oh, but the fun's only just begun."

Travers screams and writhes on the ground, a nonverbal Cruciatus Curse hitting him in the back, which I didn't even know was possible to cast. I stare at the other incapacitated Death Eaters and wonder if Mattheo has finally lost it for good. Going after his father's own servants with no regard for the possibility that such cruel treatment might cause them to revolt? They may fear the Dark Lord too much to even consider the idea of going against him, but what of his seventeen year old son? His erratic, volatile son, who'd already garnered enough resentment from the Death Eaters' ranks long before the Dark Lord fully ascended to power again.

But then again, maybe there's some rationality left in Mattheo's line of thought, after all. A proper glance at each of the felled Death Eaters reveals to me that it's only the weakest ones that have been plucked out for the slaughter. Travers, Rowle, Greyback, and several Snatchers. Just low enough that the other Death Eaters won't think it worth it to try and get back at Mattheo for this.

Finally pulling his curse away from Travers, Mattheo takes a few seconds to calm himself. This wild, chaotic version of him is nothing like the boy of deadly composure that the Death Eaters once knew to revere.

His chest heaving in and out, Mattheo slowly lowers his wand. His gaze moves from Travers's quaking form, upwards from there, higher and higher until his eyes rest on mine.

Ever so slowly, a wicked smile crawls onto his lips. Mattheo cocks his head at me, a challenge or an invitation, I'm not sure. He appears disappointed when I give no response.

Running a slick, blood-stained hand through his hair, Mattheo nods, gives one of the moaning Death Eaters a swift kick to the side, and leaves through the opposite door. 

is it just me or was that kinda hot of him

see ya in the next chapter!! :)