Fighting Fate // Mattheo Riddle ♣️

Chapter Four - Truth

Word Count: 2,283

Warnings: None

"Lyra?!" a panicked voice woke me from my slumber, my body being moved as someone flipped me over onto my back.

When I opened my eyes, I found Harry knelt by my side, his face flushed with worry. Ron and Hermione stood behind him, their eyes locked on something in the sky. I tried to follow their gaze but all I could see was a green hue in the air.

"Hey Potter." I breathed. "How you doing?"

He laughed lightly, taking my arm and pulling me into a sitting position. I was soon on my feet, my eyes meeting the picture in the sky.

It was a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As I watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing its haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation, all the others being hidden by the cloudy night.

"What the fuck is that?" I heard Harry ask, his face paling. Hermione was shaking her head aggressively and Ron simply started.

"It's the Dark Mark Harry." I answered the boy. "The symbol of Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Harry gave me a shocked expression, facing the snake and skull in the sky. I followed his gaze, watching as the pair moved together as if in a newspaper or photo. Mechanical, as thought controlled by something other than itself. 

Before we could say anything else, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

I instinctively reached for my wand which I had placed in my boot and pointed it at the nearest wizard. Crouch.

"DUCK!" I heard Harry shout and suddenly I was pushed into a crouching position.

"STUFEFY!" roared twenty voices, their wands igniting.

"Stop!" yelled a voice I recognized. I raised my head a fraction to see red hair running towards us. "Stop! That's my son!"

I watched him approach us quickly, looking terrified. "Ron – Harry –" his voice sounded shaky, " – Hermione – Lyra – are you alright?"

"Never better," I found myself muttering.

"Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice and I immediately knew who had spoken.

It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on us. I got to my feet, pointing my wand towards the Enforcer that seemed to be moving quicker than the others. His face was taut with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between us and fixing on me with my outstretched wand. "Put your wand down Ms. Black."

"I will when you stop looking at me as thought I was the culprit."

"Were you?"

"We didn't do anything Mr. Crouch," Harry spoke up, placing a hand on my arm and lowering it slowly. I didn't fight him, now holding my wand firmly at my side. 

"Do not lie, sir!" he shouted. He pointed his wand directly at Harry, and his eyes were popping – looking slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime."

"And what crime is that?" I asked. His head shot to me.

"The conjuring of the Dark Mark!" The man all but shouted. His gaze was now firmly fixed on me.

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woollen dressing-gown, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to –"

"Where did the Mark come from?" Mr. Weasley asked quickly.