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...
Liz had taken her time waking up again. The victory against the Djinn had not triggered the same satisfying feeling in her as the victory against the Basilisk. It was an empty victory. Just one of many battles she would have to fight if she wanted to keep running from Bellatrix.
She still ached where the Djinn had marked her, but at least she wasn't so cold anymore.
Liz had kept her eyes closed. She had smelled color and flowers and cinnamon. She hadn't noticed it before, but those had to be the Lovegood family smells. Vivid as Luna herself.
Somewhere below her, people were talking softly. It had to be Luna and her father. How did it feel to have someone there to come home to? It was a question she had asked herself far too often. She would never get an answer.
"You're awake," a dark voice suddenly stated directly in front of her.
Liz hadn't opened her eyes, but she had winced. Crap. Betrayed. Just inches from her face lay Mattheo. Head on his arm, he sat beside the bed, eyeing her intently.
"Is this going to be our thing now? You lose consciousness and I have to be the hero?"
Most of all, Liz would have liked to reply 'Don't be ridiculous!' But he had a point somehow. So far, he had still been there every time she had recklessly risked her life.
"Where's Draco?" she asked instead.
"Ouch." Mattheo grimaced, but still didn't move away from her. "Am I really losing to your cousin?"
Liz knew the moment was made for it, even destined to build a closeness with Mattheo. To evoke that feeling she felt whenever she got close to him. But she couldn't. Instead of reaching out her fingers for his soft hair, she straightened up. Letting the brief moment of dizziness fade, she shuffled her feet over the side of the bed.
"Do you hate me?" Mattheo's voice was so thin, just a whisper on the wind, that Liz almost dismissed it as imagination. Almost. If he hadn't wrapped his fingers around her calf at that moment. If he hadn't nestled his cheek against her knee.
Do you hate me?
Liz needed a moment to sort out her thoughts. She'd known the truth for a long time, but it was strange that he was asking her so directly about it.
"No." She took a long breath and exhaled even longer. "I was raised to adore your father. But all I feel is revulsion. I thought you were like him. Everyone thinks that."
"But?" Mattheo whispered the words on her skin.
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"I think you're using his reputation as a shield." Before Mattheo's lips could wander further, Liz grabbed his chin. "I don't hate you. But I don't know you enough to like you, either."
His shark grin exposed perfect teeth. Sharp and white. "You narrowly escaped with your life twice. Lost your magic power. And yet you're not afraid take me for a ride. Lizzie Black, you clearly have more courage than the rest of your family."
Noticeably slow, Liz withdrew her fingers. "Liz. Not Lizzie."
"Too cute?"
"Too childlike. I never had the opportunity for childhood." And Liz stood up.
"Why so serious?" Mattheo grabbed her hand. "Shouldn't you be jumping around laughing for joy or something? We're alive. You're alive."
"Bullshit," Liz hissed angrily. "My life is in danger as long as my mother considers me a traitor."
"Should we kill her?"
"Yes. No," Liz immediately rowed back. "Her death wouldn't change anything. If I just barge in and kill her now, I'll just incur more hatred. Everyone will want to get back at me. And anyway." Her gaze drifted to his hand, watching him intertwine finger after finger with hers. "I can't do much without magic."
"Can we try my plan this time? Without keeping everything a secret from each other all the time?"
Liz wasn't convinced, but she was at her wit's end. "What do you suggest?"
"You're the last Black alive, right?"
"I mean, Bellatrix and Narcissa are Blacks, strictly speaking. They just got married."
"Before I went to live with the Malfoys, the families wanted me to have a house. 12 Grimauld Place, they said it's belonged to the Blacks for years, but the two women would have given up their right to it when they got married."
"I'm pretty sure I'm disinherited."
Mattheo grinned. "And who else could disinherit you? Certainly not those two when they're no longer Blacks."
Liz couldn't find the words to express her thoughts. She had never thought of herself as Black. Bellatrix and Narcissa had pointed that out often enough. But Mattheo was right. Only her grandparents, the last rightful Blacks, could have disinherited her. But they had died shortly after she was born. She wasn't even sure those people had really taken note of her existence.
"It's surrounded by a protective spell. You won't be able to find it on your own. But I'm privy to it. I can take you there."
"And then?"
"I will claim to accept the house as a gift, but in truth you will take your rightful inheritance. You'll be the sole keeper of secrets, and you'll be able to adjust all the protective spells so that you won't be discovered there."
"But that would be very noticeable if your amazing fans suddenly can't visit you anymore." Liz was about to dismiss the suggestion when Mattheo chuckled spitefully.
"Draco warned me that you weren't someone who understood secrecy. You were always too direct weren't you?"
Actually, Liz had thought of herself as very secretive. Apparently that wasn't enough for the dark lord's son. "Where's Draco?" She couldn't imagine the pompous Malfoy sitting at the table drinking tea with Luna and her father.
"I sent him away. The sun was rising and he still had to clean up the traces of our escape. Besides, it's better if as few people as possible know of your whereabouts."
