song for this chapter
silhouette- aquilo
Mattheo Riddle's walk to the great hall each morning was usually the same every single day. It would begin, first, by passing the gossiping group of students, a gathering of Gryffindor's who would jump at the opportunity to whisper and squeal about him. Once he manoeuvred his now grimacing body past them, he would usually catch a few professors, to which he would greet them ever so politely. On occasion, he would see Theo, and the two would proceed the last few minutes of their journey together before sitting beside the rest of their friends and eating breakfast. A typical morning was a luxury that he felt he was experiencing for the last time, and he couldn't help but feel his chest constrict at the sight of the rambling girls or the pang in his throat after greeting Professor Flitwick. Today felt like an end to something he wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to.
He rounded the corner, entering the too large room with his hands within the pockets of his robes, his narrowed browse the single tell sign of his exhaustion. Today marked ten days since he saw his mother last, and as she promised, debt would be collected. It made his stomach churn with every step towards what he could only deem his last morning on tranquillity if he were as stupid as to think so. Eyes were placed onto him almost instantly, no different to any other morning, but alas - for he had finally provided them with a topic of conversation beyond that of any other that had come before it. Would he survive? It was almost a game for too many, and it infuriated him. A silent rage, a quiet, icy glare that he offered them all that had most of their lips closing as an understood warning. Despite the circumstances, Mattheo Riddle was not someone in which one would actively try to duel; for chances were, you would fail.
He sat beside his too quiet friends, Theo having arrived a few moments prior. The group of boys were silent, and it provided little warmth to an already sinking feeling within his stomach. He couldn't blame them; the environment itself wasn't one many found themselves in, never mind a group of young adults. He looked to his left, watching Draco sit with a sunken head, his breakfast untouched, whilst Blaise sighed gently in front of him.
"Eat." He gently murmured to his cousin, nudging the blonde's knee as though he was no more than an older brother chastising him for not finishing his meal.
Draco looked up to meet his gaze, the all too familiar rim of red and purple lining his lower lash line, forcing the coffee-orbed boy to frown slightly.
"I feel like a sitting duck, just waiting," Theo confessed, a shaky hand running through unusually messy hair. "And I don't know about you boys, but I don't plan just to sit here and take it."
"No fucking chance," Blaise confirmed, chin straight.
"You're all going to get hurt," Mattheo grumbled in a slight annoyance. He almost hated how courageous they all were; despite being precisely like them.
"You'd do it for us," Draco interjected instantly. He pushed his plate towards Mattheo, a small flame brewing within the confinements of his eyes. "Eat."
With a downturn of his lips, he continued his quiet grumbles whilst eating, practically forced by his friends who were too busy playing mother hen. It was peak comedy, for one would naturally conclude that the bickering group of boys were talking of nothing more than silly troubles. The reality was much darker.
"You spoke to Annie?" Blaise asked quietly, his voice hushed, as though he too was aware of the eyes on them at that moment.
His reluctant chewing stopped at the mention of the girl that plagued his mind. She was a disease within an already sick mind, weakened continuously by the shake of her hips and the way her mouth would spew utter hatred towards him. Oh, indeed, Mattheo was sick, for he was sure his feelings for the raven-haired beauty only grew when she was chastising him. Blaise's mention of her, however, cut him short for a different reason. They were all aware as to what day it was; he was sure there wasn't a soul in the too cold school who didn't - although the feeling unsettled him much more than he cared to admit. Today was the anniversary of Adam and Mina Froztillar's brutal murder - one in which that happened before her very eyes.
He swallowed slowly, jaw clenching out of habit. "No." He admitted.
"I spoke with Neville before you arrived. She's with McGonagall." Blaise murmured back in his ever quiet tone. "They'll be in her classroom."
His words were more than just a heads up, and they all knew it. All three boys were of the understanding that Mattheo would stand up from his seat and look for her almost instantly after he made sure his friends were okay, too. Today, of all days, caused utter chaos regardless of the situation with his mother. Perhaps he was too calm about it, but he had his reasons - Annie, on the other hand, was going through an overwhelming amount of feelings, no doubt. She was his priority.
"See you in the courtyard," Draco uttered to him, bumping his shoulder against his shoulder with the same gleaming look.
"See you later, boys." He nodded, patting his cousin on the back with a slight frown.
"Try not to die before we see you again!" He heard Theo call out, undoubtedly with a too-large grin and judging from the ouch he uttered after; he was sure Draco had smacked him over his head.
In his retreating steps, he allowed himself to grin, knowing that despite the lack of fear for his life, the comfort to know his friends were behind him no matter what was unparalleled. He felt loved.
—————
Pity was a disgusting, pathetic thing. Annie hated it more than anything else in the entirety of the world, her mouth tightening as she walked down stone hallways. The click of her too-expensive, black shoes rang loudly within her ears as she forced herself to focus on the rhythm rather than the faux look of sadness upon too many around her. One girl dared to approach her and place an unwanted hand upon her shoulder as a sort of comfort, only for the green-eyed beauty to lift an eyebrow. This was not about her, nor her feelings - no, this was for them. Those around her wanted to feel validated, as though they had done the right thing by invading her personal space, as though they had every right and uttering the worst phrase she could conjure.
"My condolences." The girl had smiled broadly at her; her cheeks pulled much too wide ever to be deemed as sympathetic.
Annie considered herself a master in facades, for fakery came naturally to her when masking true emotion. It was comical how bad people could be, and she often wondered if she too had started this way. The rise of her eyebrow and a look at her shoulder was all the response the younger Gryffindor student got at first, emerald orbs shifting back to meet the gaze of the too happy girl.
"Don't touch me." She replied with, voice dripping in a burning cold that scorched even those who dared to look at the interaction.
No one could blame her; it hadn't been the first time someone had used this particular day as a means to climb the social ladder. It wasn't perfect, really, but it was apparent. The real excitement was the suspension of waiting for her response. That's what they were intrigued by. To give the random student, that mind you; she hadn't seen a single day in her life, credit, Annie was a woman of decorum. She would slip into her facade and offer a gentle smile in response, no matter how fake nor how angry she felt at the sheer lack of respect, and thank the individual. A vision of grace and class, although the ugly monster within would seethe until she was alone, where her emotions would scream so loudly she felt as though her mind was waging war against itself.
After brushing off her hand, she barged past, not giving single care for politeness, unlike any other day. Annie Lilith Frotzillar was fucking annoyed, and she was sick of pretending she was completely and utterly fine. Who was her facade for? Why did she feel the need to reassure all of the people around her she was constantly okay when it was the furthest thing from the truth? She was allowed to be bitter, she was allowed to be upset, and more importantly - she was allowed to feel angry. Living in fear of who she indeed was had never appealed to anyone, and she was surely not going to be the first to advocate for such a life.
After a short walk, she found herself entering Professor McGonagall's classroom with tightness within her spine and a slight tremor to her hand. She was continuing in her usual schedule on this particular day, one which she dreaded rather naturally. She closed the door behind her, eyes trailing over to the woman who stood, approaching her instantly. The anger that had been bubbling from the small interaction mere minutes ago disappeared almost immediately as the older woman wrapped her arms around the young girl, pulling her into her chest in what could only be described as a motherly hug.
Annie hated pity, so much so that she was able to differentiate it from sadness. Minerva McGonagall had taught both Adam and Mina, and it was not only Annie's burden to bear, for sadness seemed to latch onto all of those who held an empty crevice within their chests. She curled into her arms, heart aching and yet no moisture pooled into her eyes. Emotions were exhausting, and keeping them down was something she was unhealthily used to; the last ten days had been overwhelming only to lead up to the current moment. She hated knowing today held more surprises, more notably, her potential mother in law.
"Have you eaten?" Her teacher asked, in a tone that thankfully held no pity, merely kindness.
"I don't have much of an appetite, I'm afraid." She admitted in a quiet voice.
Minerva nodded, walking towards her desk to grab a few things. The reality was that Annie's mornings were usually the same on this particular day, too. Mourn, secretly rage, continue to be a moping mess until midnight and then wait in fear for the following year. Routine offered stability, and the mess with Mattheo's family was hardly something that provided comfort. However, the one shining light is the one mercy her professors gave her. Since she had started Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall had taken her to her parent's grave, located in the same village they had passed away in. It was a small, little graveyard, and it often made her heartburn further to know they were laid to rest in a place that screamed loneliness. The other part of her mind tried to reason with her, to tell her that after so many years of torment, perhaps her parents needed normality. The quiet around them was the perfect place for the dead to sleep, and yet it made the living quake with utter isolation.
A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts, her already saddened eyes pushing to the door where a lanky body appeared. It was no other than her defence against the dark arts teacher, Professor Lupin.
"Hello, Annie." He quietly murmured.
She examined him for a moment, noticing the tiny rim of red beneath his lash line, indicating a lack of sleep and irritation. She knew the look much too well, and it was no secret her too quiet teacher was perhaps pained by this day too. How could he not be? From what he had told her, Remus and Adam were insanely close, with Mina aiding him in matters that Annie still wasn't sure about.
"Are you okay?" She found herself asking, a silly habit of placing everyone's needs before herself.
"I should be the one asking you." He offered a weak grin, approaching her with shuffling hands. "But I'd deem it a futile question."
She couldn't help the small smile that formed onto her face at his words, a strange sense of comfort flushing over her at his understanding of her feelings. Annie wondered why he was here, and as she opened her mouth to question the very matter, her other Professor beat her to it.
"Professor Lupin here has volunteered to take you today. I have yet to give him an answer and will not do so without your consent." She softly said, hand on the young girl's back. "I know the nature of your relationship and the uniqueness of it. I thought perhaps it may offer you some comfort."
Annie's eyes widened as her head snapped back at the older man, whose nervousness was perfectly understood by her now. It was odd how touched she was, for she knew this would be even harder on him than most, and yet he was offering to take her as a branch of support.
"Please." She managed to say, her throat constricting suddenly. "I...I would like that."
His face visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping in relief. It was evident he was worried she might not feel comfortable when in reality, it was the exact opposite. It brought her a level of comfort to know he would come to see her parents in their most peaceful state, that even 15 years on their best friends still cared as though it was merely yesterday.
"We'll leave now then." He nodded gently at her, to which she offered him a small smile, feeling more at peace than any point during that morning.
The door, however, knocked once more. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sound of another individual coming in, although it was her eyes that widened when she saw who it was.
With a mop of messy curls and brown orbs that seemed to teeter into black, a swirl of emotions began to impede in the confinement of her stomach. The mere sight of Mattheo Riddle was enough to make Annie Frotzillar's heart constrict in seven different ways, a medical phenomenon she knew the likes of Thomas would die to study. The way he stared so intently at her for a mere few seconds, and yet the impact remained long-lasting, was another talent she seemed to be in awe of.
"Am I intruding?" He asked quietly as a means to keep up with the already silent atmosphere. Chilling, he noted.
"Not at all. We'll leave you two to talk for a moment. I'll be outside waiting." Lupin shook his head, McGonagall nodding in agreement as the two passed the younger boy on their way out as a means of privacy.
"Hi," Annie muttered, eyes trailing over every inch of him. He was dressed in his school uniform, as usual, although the way he donned such attire was always so attractive to her - it was almost regal looking.
"Care to explain why a girl is crying a few corridors down, saying you threatened her?" He asked in curiosity as he approached her. He was like a moth to a flame, desperate for her light.
"Of course she is." She grumbled under her breath. "She deserves it; I don't care."
"Oh, I don't doubt that for a second." He murmured back, taking one of her hands to his lips, pressing a small kiss upon the back of it. "What did she do?"
"Only thing worse than pity is a fake pity." She grumbled once more, forcing the corner of his lip to flicker upwards.
He exaggerated a grimace as though he had been personally shot. "That's enough to kill."
"If that were the case, we'd both be dead a long time ago." She scoffed.
Mattheo grinned even wider at her, loving her morbid cheekiness much more than any sane individual should, his lips trailing from the back of her hand to the tips of her fingers.
"Ah, unfortunately, the mass public do not pity me." He countered. "They're bidding their time, instead."
His words rang true within her mind, and neither of them blamed anyone for it. To be the son of two of the worst spawns of the devil was hardly a small feat, and yet here he stood. It pained her, however, to know how different he was despite it doing nothing for him. They still treated him the same, and she often wondered how he handled the expectation of evil when he tried so hard to be good.
"I don't know which one is worse." She admitted.
"Fake pity." He grinned once more down at her as a means to lighten the conversation. "Should have threatened her a little more; that way, she would have run to her room with her tail in between her legs."
She couldn't help the smile that was beginning to form on her face, an absolute rarity considering her situation. His forehead pressed against her own as their chests also touched, hands faintly brushing against one another. They were one, in that singular moment, as though it meant more and more than either of them could truly understand.
"What are we going to do?" She quietly asked him, emerald flashing up at darkened enstatite, eyes clashing against one another.
"You are going to do what you normally do. I know this isn't easy for you," he began, almost wincing at the sound of sympathy on his tongue. Judging from the frown on her face, she could taste it too. "But, go. Treat this morning how you would like any other year, do not let them take that away from you." He finished, in regards to his parents.
She looked up at him, frown still present from his previous fuck up. Her hands began to rest against his own, fingers shifting over his wrist to where she could feel the faint beating of his heart, a flutter brewing within her stomach at the rapid pace of it. He always seemed too calm, too put together, but it was tiny indicators like this that reminded her he felt what she felt for him - if not more.
"Come with me." She breathed, the words falling out of her mouth before she could even think. "You don't have to; obviously, I know it's a bit much." She winced once she understood what she was asking of him, her fingers dropping from their gentle hold over his hands.
"I'm coming." He stopped her instantly, his darkened eyes meeting hers in a stern confirmation.
She nodded, watching as he now took over. His hands took her hands, fingers trailing over every inch, whilst his eyes closed momentarily, breathing in her familiar vanilla scent. It was odd how close they felt, how tightly packed their chests were, as though the two were one entity. Annie was in awe of him.
A knock on the door startled them enough to turn towards it, the two pulling away slightly as the familiar sound of their shared Professor gently reminded her that they should set off soon, out of necessity considering the threat that had been made ten days ago.
"Together." He whispered down at her, for her ears and her ears alone.
"Together." She agreed, hand in hand, walking out of the door with only the uncertainty of the future to duel them.
—
Annie had never seen snow quite like this before. Stood before the graves of Adam and Mina Frotzillar, headstones covered by the thick, cold substance, she found herself frowning deeper than she had at any moment of that day thus far. It felt like a cruel joke, their names hidden from view by nature - one in which she was able to bend so easily by her will. Was this a taunt? A humourless joke by those above, or better suited, those situated down below? She couldn't explain the feeling within her heart at the mere sight, nor the twitch that had begun to form in her right fingertips. A mixture of anger and sadness intertwined so profoundly that she was sure it would suffocate her to death—an ironic feeling considering her environment.
She stood before the grey headstones, ones she had read so many times before, and yet this action seemed so much more intimate than anything else. Both Remus and Mattheo stood behind her, a few steps away as a means for privacy and yet safety, the two watching in an almost fascination. Her fingers stretched out before her, twitching still, and yet they twirled in an effortless means to wipe the snow away using her power, watching as it slid with utter ease.
The words seemed to be glaring at her now. Had it always been so harsh, she pondered. Finding herself dropping to her knees, her mouth parted, breathing in the cold air in a desperate measure to fill her aching lungs. Gods above, they ached. Despite the rampant pain within her chest, she could not bring herself to cry. Not a single tear left the security of her too-large eyes, and for the first time, she felt liberated to know perhaps there were simply no more tears left to shed.
"It's so quiet here." She found herself saying, to no one in particular, although the sentence was draped in a sort of sadness.
"Your mother loved quiet," Remus murmured back as a means of comfort. It was true, after all. Mina Frotzillar, formerly Duras, was a woman of serenity; so much so, she was sure she carried it with her wherever she went. She had that about her, and Annie longed so desperately to feel the gentle kiss of the specific calm that she had once felt.
"Father didn't." She frowned. "He was so loud. Always talking. Always." Her fingers twitched once more as though her powers were aware of the torment in her body. "I don't think he'd like it here; it's too quiet, this town, this graveyard."
"Death is not quiet," Mattheo whispered, so quietly she was unsure if he had said it at all.
She looked over her shoulder at him, a look of quiet sadness present within every inch of his too harsh face. His jaw was clenched, always so very tough. He approached, almost hesitant at first as though he was unsure if he was overstepping his boundaries. Mattheo's uncertainty was practically comical to her in that second, for he was known for his self-assured nature, if anything, and judging from the slight look of humour on her face, he sat beside her slowly.
"What could be quieter than finality?" She dared to ask, almost afraid of the heartbreak it would provide.
She stared onwards at the gravestones, each offering a single line for each individual, and yet she wanted to scream. It wasn't enough! How could it ever be enough to describe the beauty that was these two people? How could it ever come close to understanding the impact they had on so many? Instead, it was reduced, and it felt like a fucking insult. Once again, the horrifying cocktail mix of despair and rage began to bubble within her body.
"Death is anything but quiet, silly girl." He muttered at her, his voice scratchy. "Is the hate in your body quiet?" He asked suddenly.
She parted her lips, eyebrows furrowing up at him in confusion.
"Is the rage quiet?" He asked once more, looking at her directly, his eyes void of any evident emotion. "Is that horrible feeling of relentless anger quiet?"
"Mattheo." She began, unsure of what to say at that moment, the severity of the truth almost scary.
"When you think of your mother, is the happiness quiet?" He whispered, voice becoming more gentle. "Is the thought of your father quiet, Annie?"
She stared at him, floored. What was she to say?
"Death is possibly the most living thing around us. It lives through each one of us, waiting. But when we do pass, it's as though life plays a silly little trick on death." He grinned slightly to himself. "She makes sure to keep life running through the lungs of the dead so that they may live through those they left behind."
The impact of his words felt like a knife through her chest. It was a realisation she perhaps didn't want yet needed so desperately. It was confirmation to know her parents were at peace, resting, forever away from the harm that had once befallen them so severely.
"I think your Dad would love it here. I bet he loves knowing his daughter loves to torment my very being in every class we have, too." He offered, with a gentle grin to which the corners of her lips flickered upwards at, no matter how weakly.
"He would have liked you." Remus softly muttered. He took the other spot beside her, looking towards the gravestones of his best friends. "Funny how alike you both are to the two of them."
The two looked over, intrigued, their hands secretly beginning to touch without meaning to. They were like magnets, drawn to one another.
"Mina. She was quiet, reticent. She never really spoke unless she needed to." He began, grinning slightly to himself as though he fondly remembered something. "Your dad was pretty shy, although once he was comfortable, I don't think you could have paid him to be quiet."
Annie couldn't help the little flutter that left her lips, the soft sound of laughter filling Mattheo with a sense of comfort beyond anything else.
"I never thought there was much difference between being shy or quiet." He admitted. "But I remember quite fondly when your mother made the difference rather clear when someone had said something to Adam."
"What do you mean?" Annie asked curiously.
"Potions in our first year was utterly dreadful. We had a teacher; I don't recall his name who had a habit of showing up late. By late, I mean at least twenty minutes. As you can imagine, he didn't last longer than the half term." He grinned down at them, to which they both snickered back.
"Your mother, Annie, was quiet, but she commanded any room she walked into. She wouldn't have to open her mouth before everyone was already looking at her, wondering what she would say - it was all rather exciting. It was a great talent, one I see in you." He gently mentioned, to which her heartfelt as though it may burst. "Your father, however, was timid. We laughed about it, considering James, that's Harry's dad, was so confident. Oh, don't get me started on Sirius. The two together? A nightmare for any teacher."
Annie's face did not falter at the mention of Sirius, although the way her professor mentioned him almost longingly did not escape her thought in the same manner he perhaps intended for it too. It was odd to think of him in an almost human way when she had been told so clearly that he was the reason the location of both Harry's parents and her own had been found.
"It was a regular day, and everyone was in at our normal time. We would all sit in the back, probably thinking we were cool." He chuckled to himself, utterly immersed in his own story. "Your dad had woken up late that morning, and he was frazzled; I remember him running in with robe and tie in hand, books in the other."
"He was putting his robe on rather frantically, and I don't know how it happened, but his elbow seemed to punch Evan Rosier right in the jaw." He smirked to himself. "Mind you, he deserved a lot more, even if it was an accident. Awful, awful man."
"I've never seen him look so angry in my life, and your dad, being the good lad he was, apologised profusely. I don't think I've ever seen him flush so red in my life, it was not done intentionally, but that didn't matter to Rossier. He was as cruel as could be, part of this big gang of Slytherins who loved to taunt far too many."
Mattheo frowned at this, knowing the reputation his house had for fostering such attitudes. His parents, no doubt, had contributed during their time at Hogwarts, which was why he was so proud to say he and his close peers had created a nicer environment, free of any bullying. He had enough shit on his plate without having to make someone else's life a living hell, and he honestly couldn't see the point. It all screamed a little too juvenile for him, which was precisely why only characters like Crabbe and Goyle found themselves furthering this tradition.
"Everything was a blur from then; I remember he lunged for your dad, managed to get a few punches in before Adam realised what was happening. Sirius jumped in almost instantly, much to my dismay. James and I were too busy trying to separate them, although I'm pretty sure he threw a couple of punches in there too, especially once his little friends started jumping in."
-
"Fucking prick." Adam hissed whilst pounding his fists against the jaw of the boy who had struck him first. It was entirely out of character for him to ever engage in violence, but he was already having a terrible day, and it didn't help that it was Evan Rossier being a prick.
He hadn't meant to hit his face and apologised way too many times in the space of a minute. He had been polite, as per usual, but the prick just wanted any excuse to cause a fight, and he wondered whether he should hold back, in all honesty. The second he had thrown the first punch to his cheek, and then the second and third to his jaw, he couldn't hold back. Adam pushed him back and began to lay his fists into the taller boy, winning with utter ease. It was only when his friends jumped in that Remus and James, who had once been pulling them apart, jumped in - Sirius having begun the second the fists had started to throw. Peter was on the right, holding back one of his other friends as a means to not escalate anything further.
It was only a few moments before other people in the room separated them, but Adam's vision was clouded by temporary anger. It was a rare occasion where the young boy was fuelled by rage, for he was notorious for his shy smile and flushed cheeks and the kind attitude that followed suit. It was unlike him, and considering the terrible way the morning had begun, it truly felt as though the day had conspired against him. Soon enough, each boy was being pushed back by someone, Sirius laughing and taunting the Slytherin he had been antagonising beforehand out of pure cheekiness whilst Remus's face appeared to be much more flushed than they had been prior.
"Go." James had muttered to him, with a gentle look that seemed contradictory compared to the annoyance in his body. "Breathe, we'll meet you later."
He nodded in response, throwing one more dirty look over at Evan, who snarled openly. A monstrous being and even that was as polite as he could truly be. Adam ran a shaky hand through his hair, his tie in hand as he trudged out of the classroom, harshly passing through many on his way to the unisex bathroom located on the same corridor. Upon entering, he exhaled loudly, kicking the bottom of the sink in pure annoyance before hunching over it, hands pressed in front and head hanging.
He stayed in that position for a moment or two before hearing a slight cough behind him as though somebody was asserting their presence. He looked up, looking into the mirror in front, only to notice a very familiar face behind him.
Mina Duras was like a broken record player, constantly rewinding over and over within the realms of his mind, from her short choppy hair to her too curious eyes. He often longed to hear her speak, considering she did so very rarely, and to know he had a private audience with her at that moment perhaps was more than he could ever imagine. It was insane how quickly the anger slipped from his body at the mere sight of the girl he fancied for far too long, his eyes widening slightly as he turned to face her.
"Are you alright?" She asked in her usual quiet tone. Many strained to listen to her, for she made no effort to speak up - it would be on the other party to simply listen.
He couldn't use his words; his shyness appeared to triple by a million at the mere sound of her voice. It was a symphony, a beautiful noise that had him fluttering within the realms of his mind. Snapping out of his odd thoughts, he managed a slight nod, squirming slightly under her inspection.
She noticed, although did not commend, not that he was expecting to hear. Although his expectations meant nothing, her subsequent actions floored him.
Mina approached, eyes meeting the brilliance of green that sat within his own, taking the tie that sat tightly in his left hand. She gently slipped it from his grip and straightened it with her fingers, not once looking away from him before gently reaching up.
"Duck. You're tall." She muttered once more, to which he obliged almost instantly, bending so that they were face to face, despite him being so much taller than her.
Her hands pushed the fabric out and placed it underneath the collar of his pristine shirt, and began to create a tie gently. He was gobsmacked at the sheer intimacy, and considering his widened eyes and ajar mouth; he had no immediate qualms about showing it. It took her no longer than a minute, pushing his collar down and brushing her pals against his chest almost instinctively once she was done, eyes flicking back to meet his.
"Sirius is taking it upon himself to chastise Evan, and I doubt he'll be finished any time soon." She murmured. "Although he lacks a certain charm, I suggest you go back and aid him. Rossier deserves to be pushed down a peg or two."
She began to retreat after one last lookup, through her lashes to which he could feel the sparks in his stomach explode, causing a fiery mess he had no idea how to extinguish. He watched her turn, her short hair reaching just above her shoulders, but it was enough to snap him out of his trance once more, just a second early.
"Thank you." He blurted out, flushing a furious shade of red to which he watched her smile slowly at.
"You're welcome." She smiled once more before leaving the room, leaving Adam Frotzillar to slump to the tiled floor, breathing a little runny and wide-eyed. How he was going to explain this to his friends was beyond him, considering he didn't have the brain capacity to even think of another subject that did not involve Mina Duras and her wandering hands.
-
Annie couldn't help the large grin that formed on her face whilst Mattheo placed his arm around her waist, the two listening to their Professor ramble on and on about stories of her parents and their innocent love. He teased her father as though he was still alive and sat next to them, as though he was ready for a cheeky response that, unfortunately, would never come. His smile never faltered, and it was so refreshing to see Remus Lupin in a state of quiet content when he usually carried an odd sense of sadness wherever he went. It was intoxicating.
"It's getting late. We should probably go." The older male sighed, much to the disappointment of all three parties. "It was a risk coming here, I'm sure you understand the danger, but it would be a lie to say it wasn't worth every second." He gently grinned.
Annie grinned back with a quick nod, squeezing his arm before whispering a small thank you. The three rose upwards, Mattheo's arm thrown over her shoulder before pressing a small kiss to her head. Remus led the way, guiding them back to the port key they had used that would direct them back to the school grounds, where they would be safer, although with threat still looming around them, a sad truth.
As they all held onto the transporting device and transported back, it could be blamed only on their preoccupied minds and the ignorance of their surroundings that they did not notice the medium-sized dog trailing past them. With fur as black as midnight and hair a tad too shaggy to be deemed domesticated, the dog whined quietly as it found itself sat in the once preoccupied seat, looking over the grave of two individuals he once called beloved friends.
Sirius Black sat and whined whilst in his animagus form, head over paws, whilst finally being able to mourn the death of those he cared more for than many others, knowing all too well that time was running out for those he vowed to protect. At that moment, he closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of tranquillity, glossing over kind memories and an even more thoughtful reminder that although he hadn't been able to save James, Lily, Adam or Mina - it wasn't too late to save those who lived through them. He was going to save Annie and Harry, even if it was the last thing he ever did, as an ode to the people who loved him most.
And so he sat, quiet and mourning, the remainder of his broken heart fracturing into even smaller pieces due to reminiscent memories of a simpler time where he was happy, understood and deemed innocent. He wanted freedom, and he would only taste the sweet elixir of liberty once he ensured the safety of Annie and Harry.
He could taste Death in the air, and with closed eyes, understood it was because he was following and that it would come for him soon. A paw touched each grave, a promise etched into the sky in the form of a quiet howl, that he would meet his friends soon; and he would bring with him the good news that their child was safe. Through his morbid preparation of death, a flicker of excitement bubbled into his stomach at the thought of pleasing his friend's one last time. With one final howl into the moon, he turned to the location of the hidden portkey with an intention he would make a reality. He would die making sure of it.
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HI ALEHAKEHW
u all have permission to beat me up ik it's been so long since i last updated but i promise im trying :(
extra long chapter JUST FOR U GUYS
i hope you like this direction im taking the book in, i know it's been really sad the last few chapters but i promise ITS FOR A REASON
as usual, give me ur opinions and criticism, I'm so open to it and it'll only better me as a writer!!
SENDING U GUYS SO MUCH LOVE I MISSED YOU
azha xx