Mattheo.
Mattheo stumbled up to the astronomy tower, a pack of glass beer bottles already in his hand.
He sat the beer down on the ground, taking one for himself. After he popped off the cap, he started drinking. It was the strongest shit he could find, and it was working like a charm.
He rested his forearms on the railing of the balcony, dropping the bottles on the stone floor when he was done with them. One bottle shattered, but he didn't care.
After a couple beers, he got out a cigarette and lit it, staring up at the stars until the cigarette was too small to hold.
And then it was more beer.
He thought about Lilith, how much he fucking loved her. How much he didn't get to fucking tell her that. That he only got to tell her once, and then she slipped away from him.
A sip of his drink.
How she looked when they sat under the tree, his head in her lap as she read from that stupid magazine.
Another sip.
How her face lit up at the smallest things that the three boys would do.
Another sip.
How she always bought them chocolate frogs and made them pay for butterbeers every once in a while.
Another sip.
How gorgeous she looked in that fucking dress shop when she was trying on dresses. How she talked to the girl there like they were best friends, like there was nothing to harm them in the world.
Another sip.
How fucking gorgeous she looked at the ball. And how she seemed so comfortable with him them.
Another.
How she looked so focused when she wrote those essays, when she read a book, when she cleaned his wounds after a fight.
Another.
Her fingers through his hair.
Another.
Her face when he gave her that damn bracelet.
Another.
The small smile on her face when he said he loved her too.
A-fucking-nother.
"Merlin, Mattheo."
Mattheo stumbled, turning around and almost falling over. "Oh," he laughed, stumbling to the wall again, "Hey, Blaise. How are you, mate?"
"Oh, Mattheo," Draco said from the stairs, only half of his body showing.
Blaise stood at the top of the staircase as Mattheo leaned against the wall, sipping his beer. "Mattheo, what are you doing?" Blaise asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Mattheo shrugged. "I needed a drink," he said. His finger skimmed the ring.
"More than one apparently," Draco said, now standing next to Blaise, seeing the empty bottles on the floor. "Merlin, Mattheo, what the hell?"
"I told you. I needed a drink, and I had a drink." He paused and started reaching for another bottle. "I think I just— I need another one."
"No, Mattheo," Blaise said, walking over to grab the beer. He took them and handed them to Draco. "Mattheo, what the hell is going on?"
"I think he snapped," Draco whispered in Blaise's ear.
"About time one of us did," Blaise said, then sighed. "Why did you have to go to drinking? There are so many other ways to cope."
Mattheo shrugged, accidently dropping his bottle. It shattered on the floor and he took a step back against the wall again. "Shit, oops."
"Merlin." Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and waved his wand. The bottles cleaned themselves up.
Draco and Blaise sighed, walking over to Mattheo. He tried shrugging them off, but they both forced his arms around theirs. "Come on, mate," Blaise huffed. "You shouldn't— don't cope this way. We all miss her, and we all hate ourselves for not doing something about it, but you're going to get yourself killed."
"Would that make me be able to see her again?"
Blaise and Draco pause their walking momentarily to glance at each other.
"No, Mattheo, I'm afraid it won't," Blaise muttered. "As much as I want to say that there's something that could help us get her back, I can't."
"Why's that?" Mattheo slurred as they started down the stairs.
"Because then I would be lying."
"If the lying gets me through the day, so be it," Mattheo mumbled, sighing. "Look, I'm just saying, one night of drinking isn't that big of a deal. Lilith would have done it with me."
"Lilith would have drank a beer and smacked you," Blaise grunted.
"Mattheo, I swear to Merlin, if Filch catches us because of your dumbass, I'm going to put you in the ground," Draco said, readjusting Mattheo's arm around his shoulder.
"Don't worry, your threat isn't as scary as Professor Snape's," Mattheo slurred, chuckling a little.
"Why did Snape threaten you?" Blaise groaned quietly, looking at Mattheo.
Mattheo shook his head. "You know, during his interrogation session, he thought that I got Lils pregnant, and—"
"What?" they both asked at the same time.
"I didn't get my girl pregnant, okay? As I told dear ol' Severus 'I know what a condom is.' And, quite frankly, we all know Lil would make sure that she didn't get pregnant. I know her, and I just want her back. I want my fucking girl back because I can't fucking handle not having her with me anymore."
Mattheo knew he was being loud, and he didn't care. He didn't care that Filch could probably hear them a few corridors down, or that the portraits were now telling him to keep it down.
Apparently, Draco and Blaise didn't care either.
"We all want her back, mate," Draco said.
"But she's my girl, Draco," Mattheo said. "I fucking love her. I don't say that about anyone, but she fucked me up. Like really, really, really bad."
"Mate, you're rambling," Blaise muttered.
"I don't care, Blaise. I love her, and she's gone. And she fucked me up. And I miss her. And I just want her back."