Darkest Desire - English

29

[Jo by the way, I meant to include this picture in the last chapter. This is the room plan I'm using for Grimmauld Place 12 because I couldn't find an official one].

"Now you know my oh-so-tragic story," Mattheo finished. "What about you? Where are your parents?"

Liz lowered the pillow. "There's not much to tell." She stood up and walked over to the moth-eaten tapestry. "Regulus Black had too much fun and too little responsibility." She tapped against the name. "He just made it to eighteen."

"And your mother?"

"Dropped me off at my grandparents' house and disappeared never to be seen again."

"And how did you end up with Bellatrix?" Mattheo was now up as well, eyeing the carpet that took up the entire wall. He found Bellatrix and traced the lines back to Regulus.

Bellatrix, Uncle Cygnus, grandparents Orion and Walburga, and finally he came to a stop next to Liz, the finger still under the name Regulus Arcturus Black.

"She was young and her marriage had not produced children."

Mattheo's gaze swept over the many names before stopping at one. "Who gave you your name?"

"Lysandra? I don't know. I think it's here somewhere, too."

But Mattheo had already found it. Lysandra Yaxley. Married to Arcturus Black. "Your father's name is Arcturus, too, isn't it?"

Liz screwed up her face in disgust. "Wow, my family has class."

Mattheo shoved both hands into his pants pockets. "Have you ever thought about looking for her?"

"A hundred times," Liz confessed. She didn't have to hide from Mattheo how much she wanted a real family. Someone who would be happy she existed. Someone who wouldn't keep her locked up in the attic or the basement.

"What kept you?"

Liz shook her head. "Nothing. I cast a tracking spell." It had been a long time, and Liz had lost enough tears over the subject. Now it was nothing but another stone in her lungs. "She's dead. Who knows how long."

Again there was that silence between them that Liz could never bear for long. As if she owed him more answers, as if he owed her more words.
"I'll take the bedroom next door," Liz blurted out.

"Is that an invitation, or are you going back to sleep already?" Mattheo raised the eyebrow with the scar.

"What are you talking about? I just wanted to beat you to it. We've got some cleaning to do, or we'll both get pneumoconiosis tonight."

"Beat me to it? With this tiny room? You've seen the big bedroom above us, haven't you?" He licked his lips and Liz went hot and cold. It wasn't good when they exchanged so many personal stories. Not at all! In the end, Mattheo would think they were close!

For the rest of the day, Liz tried her hardest to keep Mattheo at a distance. He must have noticed, because whenever she wasn't paying attention, he would sneak up and stand next to her quite unexpectedly.

"I know many dream of having a household help in school uniform," he remarked with a broad grin. "But could it be that that's all you have?"

Liz had found some rags in the kitchen that probably belonged to the house elf - whom they still hadn't found. "At least it's sturdy." Mortified, she looked down at herself.
The stockings had a few holes in them, but held up valiantly. While her skirt still looked passable, the blouse was probably ruined. Exhausted, Liz dropped into a chair. "Let's call it a day. I think I need to catch up on three days of sleep. In a row."

Mattheo laughed. "We should find you some clothes first thing in the morning. How long have you been wearing that uniform now?"

Liz scratched at a stain on her sleeve that she wouldn't be able to get out without a decent washing machine. "Since Hogwarts closed."

"Day and night?" Mattheo narrowed his eyes.

Liz pursed her mouth. What was she supposed to do? She'd washed her underwear in the sink in public restrooms and blow-dried them dry under the hand dryers. There hadn't been time for anything more.

"Here." Mattheo pulled his T-shirt over his head. "Cleaner than yours and certainly more comfortable to sleep in." Without waiting for her reaction, he tossed the still-warm fabric to her. "Good night." And then he disappeared up the stairs.

Liz had held the T-shirt in her hand and stared at it for quite a while before she too had disappeared into her room. Mattheo still hadn't answered her question about why he was doing all this.

She stared at her reflection in the small, moldy bathroom. What was he getting out of this? She had nothing left to give. He could have had her inheritance if he'd asked the Malfoys or Lestranges for it - or whoever else had the power at the moment.

Liz stepped into the shower and barely flinched when the water first just shot out of the showerhead ice cold. It felt almost familiar. The last few days she had always been soaked to the skin, which automatically resulted in her barely getting rid of the cold.
It was almost strange when she stepped out of the shower so clean and warm.
Liz ran her fingers over the crumpled fabric. She had just left the T-shirt on the toilet seat because she was still unsure of how she felt about Mattheo's attention.

Now that she knew he was not a follower of his father, but merely playing that role, she felt a certain respect for him. He had seen his opportunity and played his role with enough conviction that even Bellatrix recognized him. At the same time, he did not tremble with fear, as Draco did every time. Even though his life was on the line. Draco had nothing but an angry father to look forward to. Lucius would never kill his son. Maybe not even if the Dark Lord demanded it.

Liz slid into the T-shirt and took one deep breath. Mattheo always smelled like firewood and ashes. If you ignored the smell of the awful cigarettes, he actually smelled quite pleasant.