Fighting Fate // Mattheo Riddle ♣️

Chapter Twelve - High Inquisitor

Word Count: 3,238

Warnings: None.

Lyra Black's POV

"So what was wrong with Blaise?" I asked Draco, approaching his side as we made our way through Hogwart's corridors.

"He wouldn't tell me," Malfoy answered, pushing through a group of students.

"Well, did he say anything?"

Draco shook his head. "He claimed that it was just a walk of shame."

"That's bullshit. I've seen Zabini's walk of shame, that was something else."

Malfoy sighed. "Well then maybe you'll have better luck than me. He's still in the dorm room."

I nodded, giving Draco a gently nudge on the shoulder. I had barely taken a couple of steps towards the dungeon when Harry came running towards the two of us.

"Black!" he called, stopping both Draco and I in our tracks.

"Potter. What's up?" I asked.

"Sirius wrote back. He's fine," Harry informed me.

I let out an audible sigh of relief. He was okay. Everything was okay.

"Thank Merlin," I spoke. "well, if he isn't gathering his evil forces, what happened?"

"He said that he went to get something while Lupin was out. Something about Christmas presents. Some reporter with a floating quill spotted him in the bookshop." Harry gave me a knowing look.

I scoffed a laugh. "Why does that sound familiar?" I asked sarcastically.

"That's the bitch of a reporter that talked shit about Potter last year, isn't she?" Draco asked, approaching the two of us.

The Slytherin nodded to Harry in greeting as he joined us, to which Potter returned calmly. They were being civil with each other. That was a start.

"Rita Skeeter," I breathed.

Harry nodded at me before taking two letters from his robes. "These were ats the Owlery for the two of you," he explained, handing us a letter each.

Before looking at the letter, I noticed a red blotch on the boy's skin. Pulling his hand towards me, I pulled his sleeve back, my eyes widening at his skin.

On his hands were the words 'I must not tell lies.' The letters looked as though they had been carved into the boy's skin with a knife and the skin around the opening was irritated and rough. I looked up to the Gryffindor.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked him, gaining Draco's attention, who had been looking at the front of his letter. His eyes landed on the hand I was holding, and his jaw tensed.

"Detention with Umbridge. I suggest not pissing her off," Harry advised, pulling his hand back.

"That's physical abuse. She can't do that." I turned to Draco who shook his head gently in agreement.

"Well, she's doing it. Don't get on her bad side Lyra."

I scoffed. "I have pissed her off plenty this year. I should have already gotten an abundance of detention's from her."

Harry's gaze turned confused. "Then why haven't you?" he asked.

"I don't know, but that's not the point. This is illegal. She can't do this. Have you told Dumbledore about it?" I replied with another question.

Potter shook his head. "I can't find him."

I perked a brow, looking at the small bit of red that was visible under Harry's sleeve. This was barbaric.