Death Eaters Daughter

42

Three weeks later...

Raindrops skittered down the glass panes of the windows as I sat perched within the black leather armchairs of Mattheo's room. The dark waves of the ocean below crashed against the rocky cliff face, sea spray intermingling with the rain in a way that made me question if this was nature's way of washing away Voldemort's stain from the earth-a stain that many wouldn't forget.

Even if the world hoped it would.

The days that followed Voldemort's demise brought confusion and answers all simultaneously wrapped into one. Confusion gave way to understanding and understanding gave way to the answers that everyone had provided. Though, the biggest question I had was within the shape of a sky-blue eyed, platinum-blonde haired wizard that smelt of mint and parchment.

Scorpius had been the ultimate surprise and blessing; his joking, smiling, teasing and taunting personality, having suffered no damage upon his death. A death that neither of us wanted to believe was real but had been. My father had given Scorpius one condition upon Scorpius's haste to see me. A condition that led the two of them to bind their souls together in the same way that Mattheo and I had done-both platinum-blonde wizards of equal power to the other.

My father, though knowing that Scorpius would be fine, had to feign his grief and sadness upon his arrival at Hagrid's hut. The days that my grief had swallowed me, he'd spent beside Scorpius's bedside at the Potter residence. Faking his grief had been for my sake. George's had also been an equally convincing facade to ensure that Voldemort believed my brother to be dead.

I'd later learned that the moment the house had fallen silent was the moment my father had slipped away to get Scorpius from the Potter's. George, Ron, Harry and Hermione had all been bound and silenced by various spells Voldemort had ensnared them with. Harry's miraculous survival coming as a surprise to them all when Voldemort had merely cast a disgruntled look in his direction before continuing on his way through the house.

The darker side to the Deathly Hallows had come as a surprise within itself to the other's-my initial explanation cut off before it'd even began. Death's side of the Deathly Hallows was simple but violent. Death's Deathly Hallows merely stated that if someone was to carve the symbol of the Deathly Hallows into someone that had welded one or more of the Deathly Hallows, then they would be stripped of their power.

Two stages of Death's Hallows occurred a minute after you uttered the incantation; a part of the Hallows I had feared would be in vain, as Voldemort had merely brushed it off like it'd been nothing but a speck of dust upon his suit. 'Svete smrti' translated to hallows of death, a translation that I knew Death had chosen carefully.

And despite everything Voldemort had done. We'd buried him beside his mother and father-a cruel yet befitting fate for the wizard that had despised both of his parents. A fate that Mattheo had hoped would leave him stirring within his grave, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows forever etched into the pale skin of his chest. The dark, obsidian suit he'd died in torn across the front in the shape of the Hallows.

Marking him as the first wizard to have suffered the fate of Death's side of the Hallows.

Almost a week after Voldemort's inevitable demise, Hagrid had returned to his hut within the woods. Mattheo, Scorpius and I had spent days fixing Hagrid's hut and, though the half-giant had insisted it wasn't our fault. The three of us had apologised profusely for the damage to the wooden hut, Scorpius and myself more so than Mattheo, but Hagrid had merely brushed it off with a wave of his hand.

To my surprise, the dapple-grey Hippogriff had followed me back to Mattheo's house upon the cliff. The grey bird-like creature hadn't let me forget its presence, tapping its beak upon the frosted glass windows beside the front door every morning without fail-eager for its daily ferret-shaped treat.

The letters I'd received from my father and brother over the past weeks had been filled with my grandmother's name. Narcissa had taken to coming to visit my father once or twice a week now that Lucius was gone, the dark-haired witch happy to have gained the bond between herself and her son back. I'd seen her once over the three weeks that had passed, enough to know that despite the role Scorpius and myself played in Lucius's death. She didn't blame us. She'd told me that she missed Lucius and would forever love the man that she'd fallen in love with.

And that despite the mistakes he'd made. She'd forgiven him for them all.

It made me wonder as I watched the raindrops race down the windowpane, if love really was blind or if we simply ignored the faults within the ones we loved.

Maybe we all choose to hide or ignore the faults within the people we love just for the sake of never losing the love of the ones that mean the most to us. Maybe we all hope that someone will see all of our flaws and love us, regardless. And maybe that's our biggest flaw of them all.

I tore my coal-grey eyes away from the skittering raindrops and towards where Mattheo laid reading. His dark curls mused as his head rested upon the arm that he'd tucked beneath his head. Mattheo's tanned skin tied perfectly into place with the olive-green shirt and black tracksuit pants he wore.

"Mattheo?" I began, waiting several seconds as Mattheo lifted his gaze from the book in his hands.

"Yeah?"

My eyebrows came together as I hastily organised the blur that was my thoughts, discarding some and keeping others as I tried to find the right words to say. "Despite everything that happened over the past few months. Even with the good and the bad."

I lifted my gaze from the spot on the floor that I'd been staring at and met Mattheo's sable-brown eyes, speaking with more conviction than I'd thought possible. "I wouldn't change a thing."

Mattheo's eyebrows quivered in surprise, doubt flickering within his irises before he spoke. "You wouldn't change a thing? Not even one?" He prompted, doubtfully.

I nodded my head adamantly as I rose from the leather seat and crossed the room, coming to sit beside Mattheo on the bed as I removed the book from his hands and replaced it with my own. I squeezed Mattheo's hands gently with as much reassurance as I could hope to convey. Interlacing my fingers with his own as I held his stare with my granite-grey eyes.

"I've gained more than I've lost, Theo." I uttered softly.

Honesty, conviction, and clarity resonated within me as my words hung in the air. A gentle, cheerful smile lifted the edges of Mattheo's mouth as he peered down at me. And in this moment, I realised that the lion had fallen for the lamb.

And I knew, despite everything that'd happened. Through the good and the bad. The pain and the sorrow. The blood and the tears. That I wouldn't change a thing. Not for one moment, or minute, because with none of it-I wasn't sure of what I would have become.

I hadn't always been this cold. This broken. This scarred. But, with the greatness that had been destined for me, and myself alone. It had always been bound to come with consequences, with trauma and pain-a duo that had come hand in hand.

A duo that I still couldn't shake, even after all these weeks. A harmless promise that I'd made as a child with my brother-a promise that we'd lived with our entire lives, had become something else entirely.

A vow-one that gave loyalty a whole other meaning than before, because with life it formed, wove, and came together.

But with death, it sealed, locked, and set completely.

And nothing had prepared me for the scars, nightmares, and pain that'd followed. The loss, the hurt and the fear had been mere moments that'd shaped me for the rest of my life, but throughout it, I found a twin flame at the end of the dark tunnel.

A flame within the shape of the sable-eyed wizard who held my hands as tightly as I held the flames within my own, clasping it within my grasp so that it'd never be able to slip away from me.

Not even if the nightmares of the past tried to snatch them from my grasp.

The End.