Fighting Fate // Mattheo Riddle ♣️

Chapter Three - Dementors

Word Count: 1,841.

Warnings: None.

I jolted awake. Head falling forwards, it aimed for the ground. Not quick enough to stop myself, I watched as the carpet drew closer. Theo, being on high alert, crossed an arm over my chest, aggressively pushing me back into the seat.

"Merlin's fucking beard," I muttered, my eyes now open wide as I scanned the people around me. They all sat still, shocked at the sudden cease of movement, each of them with a strong grip on the material of the seat.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Malfoy spoke up, looking back and forth between the window and the door.

"That's a very posh curse Draco," I started, "You should swear once and a while, it would do you some good." I tried to add a little humour to his question, but didn't have an answer. I quickly rose from my seat.

"What are you doing?" Pansy asked.

"Checking what's going on dummy." Pushing the sliding doors back, I poked my head out, turning my gaze from right to left and back again.

Looking up and down the train, I slowly began to see other's heads leave their compartment, following my movement.

Turning to my left, I noticed Harry Potter's black-haired head shoot out from one of the doors, his face whipping back and forth across the train. He was a frantic as I was. 

"You alright Potter?" I asked, grabbing the boys attention. He scoffed.

"Never better," he replied, looking back into his compartment shortly, clearly talking to someone. "Hey Black, do you know what's going on?" Harry asked, looking to me again.

"No idea Specs."

Nodding in response, he turned back into his compartment, shutting the doors firmly behind him.

The lights had been turned out, and the sky was now pitch black, making the almost full moon our only source of light. I wonder how Moony is doing.

"I don't understand why you are so nice to Potter and his band of blood traitors and mudbloods," Draco spat, causing me to quickly return inside, shutting the doors.

"Don't call them that!" I scolded sternly, dropping back into my seat.

"That's what they are Black." Malfoy continued, rolling his eyes, "My father says-"

"Fuck what Lucius Malfoy says Draco," I cut him off, "he doesn't know shit about any of them." Draco looked at me incredulously.

It was a constant argument between Draco and I. His father had ideals and thoughts on everyone from the Purest of Blood to the muggles of the world. Being in a Pure-Blood family meant that these ideals were forced on you as a child. I was lucky enough to escape that, Lupin finding me before the Malfoys could. I knew that Draco didn't know anything other than the beliefs his family had, but it pissed me off sometimes.

"He's my friend Draco. Always has been," I spoke simply, to which he just shook his head.

It never caused problems in the group. Our constant bickering. We argued a lot, but there was a respect between us you couldn't break with these idealistic arguments. Deep down we knew there was never going to be a winner, so we just accepted that we were different, and went from there.

"Can we not dive into your 'as old as time' arguments? It's only day one." Blaise cut in, bringing his left arm back onto the rim of the seat. Draco didn't speak about the matter again.

Leaning into Theo's side, I fixed my gaze on the window. The rain blew back and forth across the sky, spluttering against the thin glass.

"You look exactly like your mother. Almost a perfect image," he answered, taking one of the handles beside me, "but you are your father's daughter through and through."