Darkest Desire - English

32

Mattheo had been more worried about leaving her alone than Liz had been about what it would mean for her. He was only going to be gone for an hour or two at the most, but in that time she would be alone in the big, dusty house that Bellatrix and Narcissa could still enter at will. Hopefully they wouldn't do it to disrespect Mattheo, but you never knew.

Of course, Liz had assured him that all was well. That last night had just been a slip. But now that he had really left, she felt far less confident.

She had thrown on an old cloak from one of the closets and was sitting in the living room. The only room they had really gotten clean. In front of her on the table was her wand. She always had it with her. Faintly hoping that her magic would come back on the spur of the moment. But it hadn't come back.

No matter how much she thought about it, it made no sense. If this image of Lord Voldemort had absorbed her magic, shouldn't it have come back to her when she destroyed the diary?

An icy chill ran through Liz every time she thought the next, sequential thought. Had she destroyed her magic right along with it when she had smashed the diary?

She had spent days in the library, searching for witness accounts of similar cases. But if she was honest, she hadn't even known exactly what to look for. What had the diary even been? Memories? No. But there couldn't be any connection to the Voldemort of her time, either. The man had faded into obscurity thanks to Harry Potter - even though Liz had heard enough rumors that he was still out there somewhere. Had that been it? Had Voldemort stolen her magic because he was too weak for his own?

Over and over again, Liz went over the most nonsensical ideas. It didn't make any sense. She was going in circles. Frustrated, she paced back and forth in the oblong living room.

This should have been her home, she suddenly remembered, as she read the names of her family on the large tapestry.

Regulus Arcturus Black.

She bent down to read her father's name. He was only 18 years old when he died. Only slightly older than she was now.

"Do you regret it?"

Liz would never get used to how silent Mattheo could be. "What?"

"That your name isn't immortalized."

With difficulty, Liz struggled to her feet. "I wasn't even thinking about that."

"But?" He held out a bag to her. Clothes that weren't from the last century!

While Liz examined the things critically, she gave Mattheo a hesitant look again. She had promised not to hide everything anymore. And so far, his plan had gone even better than any Liz had ever had.

"I've been wondering if I'd be a Death Eater now, too, if my parents were still alive. If I had grown up here."

"And?" Mattheo fished out a cigarette.

"I honestly don't know. Maybe." Mortified, Liz lowered the sweater. Ravenclaw blue. Her favorite color.

"What stopped you now? I mean, Draco's not giving up trying. Even if he's Merlin knows not fit to be a Death Eater."

Involuntarily, Liz had to join in the laughter. "He's too much of a coward to be a Death Eater, but he's also too much of a coward not to be one."

Grinning, Mattheo lit the cigarette before repeating his question. "Why did you refuse to be like the rest of your family?"

Instead of answering, Liz grabbed the lit cigarette and tossed the butt out the open window. They had checked all the protection spells several times -although they meant Mattheo. Liz couldn't do much without her magic.