Liz has always refused to become like her family. Even though the blood of the Black family flows in her veins. Adopted by Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange after the death of her father Regulus - in hopes of "setting her on the right path" , she st...
The arrival in the dirty basement was anything but smooth. Draco was still blindsided by the situation and Liz still had the knife in her hand - just in case. Without a hand free to balance herself, Liz stumbled ahead and landed coughing in the decades-old dust of the Lestrange mansion.
"Nice place," Mattheo remarked mockingly. "You guys really have a knack for interior design."
Liz wanted to retort something, but between the thousand thoughts in her head, there was no more room for anything repartee. "Did you see him just now, too?" she asked instead, upset, pacing - which looked more like she was spinning on the spot, since there was barely enough room here to take two steps.
"Where are we?" wanted to know Draco, who hadn't heard the question. He patted dust off his pants and looked visibly uncomfortable.
"In our basement." But even as she spoke, she shook her head. This wasn't her home. Never had been. "At the Lestranges' in the basement. I discovered the fireplace a few years ago and obliged the house elves to keep it burning all the time." She gestured wildly and spoke frantically. Now was not the time to explain. "You!" Knife first, she looked over at Draco. Panicked, her cousin raised his hands in the air again, as Mattheo had done earlier, and tried to dodge her. In vain in the small chamber. "You will find out for me where the vessel of this Djinn is!"
"We already know," remarked Mattheo, who had been leaning casually against a wall, watching the spectacle. "When you came snowing in, we were just discussing what we could offer this Djinn to make him break his original pact."
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Liz was so caught off guard that she opened and closed her mouth speechlessly. They had what? "You know where...?" she stammered, still unable to sort out her thoughts.
Mattheo nodded in Draco's direction. "I had to make it up to you after all," the blond admitted quietly. " After all, I'm the reason for it."
Liz couldn't deny that. But she hadn't expected her coward of a cousin to volunteer to do anything that might earn him the hatred of his family. Suspiciously, she looked over at Mattheo. Had he made Draco do it? And if so, why?
"Listen." Mattheo pushed himself off the wall and put his hand on the knife Liz was still pointing at Draco. "We're running out of time. Do you want to keep suspecting us, or do you want to trust us this one time?"
"Suspect," Liz answered without thinking about it, but she let Mattheo take the knife from her hand.
He smiled mildly. "That's fine. Draco will go now and get the jar. For that, it would be good if he had his wand back." Mattheo held his free hand out to Liz demandingly. Hesitantly, she looked into the dark eyes that wanted so much to convince her that they could be trusted. "You want a trade? I give you mine and you give Draco his back?"
Liz jerked out of her stupor. "Yours?"
Mattheo had flat-out lied when he had said that he didn't have his wand at all - and Liz had believed him, stupid as she was. Slowly, Mattheo reached under the sweatshirt jacket he wore over his plain T-shirt. Not taking his eyes off Liz for a second, he pulled out his wand and held it out to Liz on the palm of his hand.
