Riddle Me - Mattheo x Reader

The Letter

Sorry I haven't been posting I just took a break for my mental health :)

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The next morning, after the argument, I woke up to the stench of vomit and I was repulsed by it. While there was no pile of it anywhere, yet the smell was so strong it was sickening. Pansy was calmly sleeping, her chest rising and falling slowly and her face looking calm. Delilah was sprawled across her bed on the other end of the room, still in her clothes from last night; she looked messy and crazed even as she slept soundly on her bed. Her lipstick was smeared and her mascara was dripping from her eyes, in her hand, she held a nearly empty bottle of alcohol. Someone partied hard I thought to myself. I stood and winced as a sharp pain coursed through my leg. Maybe wearing heels for so long wasn't much of a good idea. I gingerly stood back up on my feet after I fell and trailed through the trashed dorm room. I walked up the spiral staircase, the unusual silence ringing in my ears. I had decided to go up to Mattheo's room and tell him what had happened last night. As I walked up the stairs I kept telling myself to turn back, to talk to Pansy but it was as if a string had connected me to Mattheo's front door - dragging me towards it.

I knew he wouldn't be there, he was still sulking in the hospital ward with Madam Pomfrey watching over him like a hawk. I knocked softly on the pristine door and to my surprise, it swung ajar with an ominous creak. The room was dull and dark, with a thin layer of dust over every surface. The room was shockingly messy; clothes strewn over the floor, a large trunk lay open in the center of the room, and papers were laying everywhere. A whiff of dust entered my nose, and my eyes stung with tears. I walked in gingerly expected some sort of booby trap to activate and shoot arrows through my head -  but nothing.  Nothing but the eerie silence intensified along with the tension thickening the air. 

I noticed in some places the even layer of dust was disrupted, traces of physical movement across the desk, floor, and the bed. Someone had been in here. They were looking for something. My eye caught an empty open drawer in it lay a rectangle patch of smooth, clean wood with no dust. Papers were strewn beneath the drawer. They had found it.

I carefully bent over the papers my eyes darting word to word; Father...Plan...Harry...Y/N...Pain

I didn't quite know what was happening, and I sure as hell didn't have the time to explore every inch of this creepy room.  I stood back up and looked at the dark doorway leading into the dark stairwell. Well maybe I did...

I rushed over to his closet. Nothing special, just some tuxedos and a spare uniform. I checked the bed without touching it, the blanket was thrown on the floor and the pillow was on the other end. Then I went to the place I was interested in the most; the trunk in the center of the room, laying there like a diamond in the rough. It was open and had a white velvet interior. Most of its contents were laying in some corner of the room but inside lay a pot of ink, spare quills, and parchment. The parchment seemed blank, but the sun outside shone directly on top of it highlighting the writing on the other side. I picked it up and looked around in paranoia, my mind was skimming through everything that could go wrong all at once. Nevertheless, I began reading the letter:

Mattheo,

It's good to know you're doing well, and that you've been keeping track of everything. Now I have received intel from Professor Moody that you have been sharing notes in class. Being my son, I forbid doing such things and if you do you will be severely punished and I will make sure of it. Any more complaints from your Professor and I will be bringing you straight back home. I hope you don't anything to betray your father in such a manner and I hope not to see you any sooner than I need.

 Your Father,

The Dark Lord

With every word I read my eyes grew with horror, though I  knew the content wasn't out of the ordinary. But with every word I read I imagined the Dark Lords scaly hands gliding across the page clutching a quill, writing neatly across this exact piece of parchment I held in my very own hands... I chucked the paper back into the trunk and wiped my hands from the invisible traces of murder, curses, and tyranny onto my pajamas.  I jogged out and down the stairs passing the odd groggy student or two. I ran back into my dorm, my heart racing. I felt contaminated, disgusting, nasty. I felt like I had caught a disease. I changed into my uniform. My face was pale, cold and all the blood had left it. My hair was still a mess and was curled and tousled in all the wrong places. The cushion I hugged closely was no help either. My mind was crawling with monstrous thoughts. My parents were Deatheaters, but I never ever wanted to become one - shockingly neither did Draco, it was the one thing we both agreed on. I got a few judgemental stares and even more pitiful ones. But then Draco came in, 'What do you think you're looking at?' he snapped at the pudgy Millicent Bulstrode, who yelped and trotted away as quickly as her thick legs would allow. Draco's eyes fell on me, and his sour expression faded into a concerned one. 'Woah, are you okay? You look fucked up.' he said as he placed himself next to me on the sofa where I was hugging my knees. He tried to fix my hair, but I moved away. 

'Don't touch me. You'll get contaminated too.' I croaked.

His slitted eyebrow raised in confusion, 'What are you going on about?'

'I touch the same piece of paper as Him.' I sighed fearfully, my eyes blurring with tears.

'Who?'

'The Dark Lord...' I whispered cautiously.

'Did you drink last night without telling me?' he said incredulously

'No, I went into Mattheo's room. A-and found a letter.' I raised my hands in front of my face and looked at them in disgust. 'It was written by Him.' I continued, looking at Draco hopefully. I couldn't help but think I looked like a madwoman.

'You did-' he sighed, trying his best to control his anger, 'You broke into Mattheo's room? What were you thinking!?' 

'I...Really don't know. It was like some force was pulling me towards it a--and someone had already broken in!' I cried in defense.

'That is not a good sign...' he said softly, his lips pursed in thought.