stab me daddy (Mattheo RidDle)

Summer Beginnings

Lorelei's POV:

I paced down the inn corridor, careful not to scare off the rodents gathering in the corner. My suitcase trudged behind me in lumpy squeaks and I  halted before stopping at a wooden sign post at the door halfway down the corridor. 

Room 108.

The wooden veneer had started flaking off, dust mites practically partying at the handle.

I sighed before holding my breath, shoving the rusty inn key in the lock before shouldering my way in. To my surprise, it wasn't that horrible.

Despite the lingering odor of burning coal and flaking fish, there were no large dead insects in sight, and the room was stuffed politely with necessities and amenities. There was a narrow strip of carpet that led to the main room, a wooden enclosure which was conveniently empty apart from a few bowls of rotten fruit and some stuffed yellow sheets in the musty cabinet.

My nose wrinkled as I traveled down further, exploring the eerie muggle inn while pausing at every rusty creak in the floorboards. 

There was a stained mirror to my right which led to a surprisingly clean shower, and to the left was a wooden shelf with a coffee brewer, some tea packets, and a set of unwashed cutlery.

Gross.  

I ventured further  and slid the door shut behind me. The bedroom was sheltered by a cash-green roof, large window panes, a wooden balcony that looked more like a plank, and thankfully-  two beds.

Wait a minute.

I glanced around the room once more, searching for any signs of another person. Maybe this was a practical joke, a misunderstanding at the reception or something. Mother did alert me that I would have company, but she never bothered to mention who.

Typical Mother.

"Ehm - " I cleared my throat and squinted around, my grip tightening around the handle of my suitcase. Aster - my magical pet chameleon - screeched in his box. If this was a jump scare, it was a very, very, very, bad idea.

Whatever. Whoever this was, I'll deal with them later. 

I set down my suitcase on the bed near the window, far away from the bathroom and door, and slid off my silver cloak - mugglewear. I picked up a glistening jar of dried mermaid tail and shoved a piece at Aster before stepping cautiously across and hanging my cloak in the wardrobe by the door.

That's when I saw it.

A silky black robe with a serpent emblem over the left chest hung primly on the far left.

Behind it was a plain white buttoned shirt and a set of black trousers.

The trousers seemed strictly tailored and rather lengthy, a shade to dark to belong to any normal muggle and a cut too sharp for an old man. 

And the emblem? Either some sort of cult symbol, or a family heirloom. 

No exceptions.

I hung my cloak quickly and stalked off to the bathroom. The nauseating scent of cloying cologne whipped my face as I gagged, the outrageously expensive macho essence seeping into my lungs.

Definitely a young wizard. I groaned.

I splashed water on my cheeks, scrubbing aggressively, willing the scent to wear off. Then, I cupped my hands and gargled, choking as the water turned sweet down my throat. Finally, I grabbed a freshly folded towel off the rack and -