Surviving Fate // Mattheo Riddle ♣️

Chapter Thirteen - Losing

Word Count: 1453 words.

Warnings: None

I found my mind wandering again, time seeming to slip away from me. I hadn't felt like this since the Summer before, when she had broken free after the Ministry, but I could feel it again. She wasn't in control, I knew that, I could feel that, but I wasn't in control either.

"Incendio!" I heard Hermione cast, eyes shooting upwards.

I was in a tent. How had I gotten into a tent? I couldn't remember, but I must have gone willingly. Outside, Harry and Hermione both had their wands raised, pointing at something on the ground.

"They're trying to destroy the locket," a voice told me.

I turned to find Ron sat beside me. We were at a table. "You're alright," I commented.

He nodded slowly, looking to his arm where a sling kept it in place. "That happened a couple of weeks ago."

I took a deep breath. A couple of weeks. "Shit," I cursed.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked me.

Shaking my head, I looked to my hands. My ring. The one that Mattheo had gotten me for Christmas. That was a memory. One that I remembered. I had almost forgotten that I wore it, but I didn't forget getting it. My fingers began to fiddle with the metal band.

"Have they damaged it at all?" I asked, facing the Weasley again.

Ron only shook his head. "Nothing."

"Maybe I could try then."

"Won't be much help," he replied. "I don't think anything can break something as evil as that."

A radio came to life beside Ron and I turned to look at it. He began to turn the knob on its front, static bursting through the speakers.

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

"There's a wizarding channel. They've been giving news on the war."

"The war?" I questioned.

He shook his head. "You don't remember?"

I let out a shaking breath. "The last few weeks are a little fuzzy."

"You weren't kidding when you said you'd be scattered."

"I said that?"

He nodded slowly before explaining. I felt as though it wasn't the first time we had talked about it. "At the same time every day they call out a list of names," he paused, "those that have died."

I swallowed. "Is it that bad?"

Ron nodded slowly. "He's taking over the entire world, one muggle at a time."

"Prudence Stone," the radio began, "Bathilda Wormwood, Jonas Hugs, Katherine Acklebott, Edward Tonks..."

The rest of the names bled into silence as I focused on a single one. "Edward Tonks," I breathed.

"Tonks?" Ron questioned. "As in..."

"Dora's father," I explained, turning away from the radio. I dropped my head into my hands. "Fuck."

"It's not your fault Lyra, they're killing any muggle they can get their hands on," Ron tried.

I looked up at him again, eyes brimming with tears as a saddened ache moved through my chest. "She asked me to protect him," I began, "and I didn't."