Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter twenty-three

"Yes," he agreed, his voice low. "For the better, I hope."

We both chuckled, a sound that seemed almost foreign in the stillness of the hut. As the night deepened, the temperature dropped, and Mattheo stood to add another log to the fire. The simple act, performed with an ease that spoke of long practice, somehow made the small space feel even more like a refuge.

The conversation shifted then to lighter subjects; Mattheo recounting tales of Hogwarts mischief, his favorite spells, and the quirkiest professors. Each story he shared seemed to weave a stronger bond between us, threads of camaraderie and amusement that built a fragile bridge over the chasm of our pasts. Listening to him, I marveled at the world of Hogwarts, so vivid and full of life, vastly different from my secluded education at home. His recollections painted a picture of a place bustling with young wizards and witches learning and growing together, a stark contrast to my solitary lessons amidst the ancient magic of the Peverell estate.

As the evening wore on, the weight of exhaustion began to press down on me, the adrenaline of the day's events finally catching up. "I think I might try to get some sleep," I announced, stifling a yawn.

"Good idea," Mattheo replied, his voice gentle. "I'll keep the fire going a bit longer. Get some rest."

I nodded, grateful for the warmth of the fire and the company. As I settled into the small bed again, the sounds of the night lulling me toward sleep, I felt an unexpected sense of security. With Mattheo nearby, watching over the fire, I allowed myself to drift off, the fears and uncertainties of our journey momentarily forgotten under the watchful gaze of the stars peeking through the hut's small window.

Sleep came easily, and with it, dreams. But for once, they were not haunted by shadows or fear. Instead, I dreamt of starlit skies and laughter, a reminder of the light that still existed in the world, however dim it might sometimes seem.

Mattheo

May 28th, 11:15 p.m., Highlands Hideout

As the night embraced the solitude of the Highland wilderness, I stepped outside the humble confines of the wooden hut. Lucia had slipped into a deep sleep, her breathing steady and peaceful, a stark contrast to the tumult of their recent days. Alone, under the vast expanse of starlit sky, I found a moment of respite. The cold air nipped at my skin, but it was a welcome sensation, a reminder that I was still alive, still feeling.

In my hand, a long-forgotten pack of cigarettes and a bottle of fire whiskey - relics from a past life that seemed both distant and painfully close. I hadn't touched either since the chaos at Hogwarts, since our desperate flight began. Yet tonight, the craving for a smoke and the burn of whiskey felt like a call back to who I once was.

Lighting a cigarette, the first inhale was a harsh welcome back to an old vice. The smoke filled my lungs, a burning yet oddly satisfying ache that grounded me in the moment. Each drag was a whisper of my old self, a part of me that reveled in the sharpness of the sensation. It was a familiar ritual, the smoke curling into the night air, mingling with the mist that rolled off the mountains.

Taking a swig from the bottle, the fire whiskey scorched its way down, a fierce warmth spreading through my chest. It was a fierce reminder of nights spent in less turbulent times, where the biggest concerns were the outcomes of duels or the consequences of the next day's recklessness. Now, each sip was a small rebellion, a fleeting grasp at a freedom that felt increasingly out of reach.

As the alcohol's warmth settled in, my thoughts drifted involuntarily to Lucia. It was disconcerting, this shift in my feelings towards her. From a mere tool in my initial plans, a means to an end, to... something more. Something I couldn't quite define and was reluctant to explore. It was unsettling, how her presence had begun to weave itself into the fabric of my thoughts, her resilience and quiet strength becoming points of admiration rather than just tactical advantages.