Y/n Riddle the Queen of Slytherin. Or so she thought.

Poor Matteo...Part 34

It's the day of Harry's Quidditch game and Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I are all sitting at the Gryffindor table. "Harry, you need to eat something." Hermione tells him. "I'm not hungry," Harry mutters.

I lean slightly towards him so only he can hear me, "Harry, you need to eat." He lets out a breath and picks up a piece of bacon. He's about to eat it when Professor Snape walks up behind us. "You'll need your strength." Snape regards us, then looks at me. "Ms. Riddle, may I have a word." I nod, and get up out of my seat, "I'll be right back," I tell them.

I follow him out of the Great Hall and into the hall, "Yes, professor?" He looks at me as if he's searching for something. He swallows hard, "How are things going," he asks, "With the boy?"

"Oh, right, that. I don't know... good? I mean what am I supposed to do? I'm eleven. I can barely do my school work and Father expects me to get a boyfriend?" I say, exasperated, "And then what? Stay with him for seven years? The break up with him? Just so he can die?" I'm really trying to keep the tears back, but they're threatening to spill. My throat starts to burn, and my hands are really warm.

Snape's jaw tightens as he watches me. He's not allowed to help me. How could he? He swallows, "Well, then Ms. Riddle," he puts his hand on my shoulder, and squeezes. "Good luck." I nod and watch him walk away.

As he turns the corner I let out a sigh. I wipe my face on my sleeves, take one more deep breath. And put a smile on my face. Not too big of a smile, just one that looks real. Harry looks over first.

Shit. I can't do this. My legs don't want to keep walking towards him, but I force myself. Why am I even freaking out about this? Tom and Matteo have probably had to do worse. I mean Matteo once used the Cruciatus curse on someone. He's the least likely out of all three of us to do that to someone. Thinking about it, I wonder who it was, because that's so unlike him.

I reach Harry and the others, "Ready to go?" I ask. "Yeah... is everything ok?" I nod quickly, a little too quickly. My smile is growing bigger as I'm trying to force back the tears.

"Ok..." Hermione says slowly. They stand up, and we start walking towards the quidditch pitch.

"Y/n!" Someone calls behind me. I spin around to see where the voice is coming from.

It's Matteo.

Great. What does he want now? He's running up to me. I feel Harry, Ron, and Hermione tense next to me. Obviously a Riddle running up to you must be a bad omen or something.

Matteo stops in front of me, out of breath. He's bent over, hands on his knees. He's panting heavy. How far did he run?

"Are you ok?" I ask. "Yeah... yeah," he's trying to get his breath back. "Why do you guys walk so fast?" He looks up at us. I shrug. "What did you want?"

He's standing up now, still breathing heavily, though. "Are you going to the Quidditch match?" He asks, looking behind me, at Harry. "Yeah...?"

"I'm sorry, but you can't go." He says to me, "What? Why not!" He shakes his head, "Because,"

I stare at him, "Because why?!" He's smiling a little. "You just can't. I can't tell you here, but trust me. You don't want to." I looked at him like he was crazy, "Yes I do." I told him sharply.

"Y/n." He was using his Tom voice. He took a deep breath, and got down on one knee. I rolled my eyes. This is really embarrassing. I turned away, "You guys go on without me, I'll meet you there," I gave them a reassuring smile.

I turned back to Matteo, "Matteo, please," I begged, "You're embarrassing me in front of like the only friends I have." He looked sorry but not sorry for what he was doing. "I'm sorry, y/n, but I can't let you go." He says, "I really wish I could but..." he took a deep breath, and stood. Now towering over me. "Come on," he put his hand on my back and started leading me away from the quidditch pitch.

"But why?" I asked, exasperated. "Because people like us can't go to things like that, y/n..." he says, sounding as if he's on the verge of tears. He would never cry, but he can't keep the emotion out of his voice, "People aren't as understanding and forgiving as others. They can be cruel and mean." He takes a shaky breath. "They don't take time to even try to understand that you're nothing like your father." He seems to be talking to himself, forgetting about me. I stay silent.

"They act like they're your friends, you let them in, you tell them your secrets, your weaknesses, your vulnerabilities..." he shakes his head, "Then they lead you, unsuspectingly, right into the most soul crushing, embarrassing, heartbreaking, moment of your life."

"W-what happened?" I asked, unsure of his response. "I made a friend..." he said quietly, we stopped by the black lake. He sat under an old oak tree, the dead leaves crunching under his weight, "I made a friend and I forgot everything Father taught me." I sat silently next to him.

"He invited me to a Quidditch game... I was so excited." I could hear the smile and pain in his voice as he spoke, "I even dressed in Gryffindor colors for him. For this boy who said he was my friend. For this boy that made me feel special and loved for once in my life." He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding forced and broken, "We got to the Quidditch match, it was full of people, happy people. I was happy, and...for the first time in a long time I let my guard down. I felt safe. Like no one could hurt me." He breathed out heavily. "God was I wrong." He shook his head.

"What d-did they do?" I asked softly, "As soon as the match started and the professors weren't paying attention, one of the Gryffindor beaters aimed a bludger at me, I wasn't paying attention, and I got hit right in the gut." He laughed, "I remember going down on my hands and knees, gasping for air. One of the boys I was with friends kicked me over, they held me down and took my wand. I was defenseless." He looked at his hands then dropped his head down,

"There were four boys, and one of me. As I was still fighting for air, they each got one of my limbs and hung me off the side of the bleachers. I was terrified. I was begging them to pull me back up." I stopped breathing, how could the professors let that happen? I wanted to ask, but I couldn't talk.

"After I had given them what they wanted, they pulled me back up, laughing and laughing at how easy it was to scare me." He said, "I remember, I jumped up and looked at the boy I thought was my friend. Who I thought liked me for me and not my family, liked me as... more than a friend. I had never felt like that before. Betrayal. I walked away as fast as I could, I didn't let the tears spill until I was in my own dorm. Alone." He leaned back against the tree. "That was until Tom found me. Oh you should've seen the look on Tom's face when I told him what happened." He shook his head, a smile on his face now.

"I learned two things that day..." his tone turned serious again. "One, I was never going to let anyone see that they got to me."

"And two...?" I asked softly.

"If the world is only going to see me as shifty and untrustworthy, then there's no point in trying to be anything else."