Fighting Fate // Mattheo Riddle ♣️

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Relax

Word Count: 4,058.

Warnings: SMUT (Will be specified when it starts) 

"Wait, so you just apologised, and he gave you Nika back?" Blaise asked me, confused.

We were sat in the stands of the Quidditch pitch. Slytherin had training and considering that none of us had anything better to do, we let Draco and Theo drag us with them early on Saturday morning.

I thought back on my memories of the day before. "Yeah," I answered. "It seemed that he just wanted an apology."

"That doesn't sound like my father," Mattheo commented, bringing an arm around my side and pulling me into him. "I still wish you told us about the letter."

I sighed. "I know, but I couldn't let you go back there." Looking up at him, I gave him a worried look. "Not after what happened at Christmas."

He flinched slightly at the mention of the holiday, kissing the top of my head and pulling me back into his chest.

"I can't believe I didn't notice," Pansy muttered. "My own girlfriend was missing, and I didn't know."

Reaching forward to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, I gave her a small smile. "It's not your fault. Nika likes to disappear, I wouldn't have noticed anything if he hadn't sent me the letter. Besides, I just got a letter from my dad, she's fine. Perfect actually. Itching to get out of Grimmauld Place."

Pansy smiled, nodding lightly, but I could still see the fear in her eyes for the Gryffindor. I'm sure that I only mirrored her.

The visit to Malfoy Manor was a bit of a blur actually, but the memories of what happened were clear to me. I got to the house, entered and apologised to Voldemort for my display before Christmas. Then, he gave my friend back to me. I found myself thinking that Mattheo was right. That didn't sound like him, but who am I to question it when we got Nika back?

The sound of brooms and voices echoed out on the field, loud enough so that we could identify the voices we knew but quiet enough so that we could still hear each other speak.

Blaise let out a sigh, opening back up a copy of the latest Quibbler edition and beginning to read.

"What was going on with you Blaise?" I asked him, leaning back into my boyfriend who was on the bench above me. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. "You seem more interactive that you were yesterday."

"I'm over it," he told us quickly. "Had a little meltdown for no reason, but I assure you I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine."

"Say it one more time and I'll believe you," I told him.

Turning to look at me, the dark-skinned boy took a breath. "I'm fine."

"You shouldn't be reading that," another voice joined the conversation and I turned to find Potter approaching us on the stands.

"Come to watch the opponents train Potter?" I asked him but he simply shook his head, pointing a finger towards Blaise.

"Umbridge banned people reading The Quibbler," he told us.

I laughed. "You're fucking kidding me," I commented but Harry simply shook his head, holding out a piece of parchment to me. It was a smaller version of one of Umbridge's Decree's.

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITIOR OF HOGWARTS

Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.