Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter two

At the mention of my name, I nearly choked on the cocktail I had been sipping, coughing in surprise. I turned to my father, my expression one of disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, the secret weapon doesn't even realize she is one. How very reassuring," scoffed one of the allies seated at the table.

"You possess the greatest and most extraordinary skills of anyone in this room, Lucia," my father affirmed, his voice unwavering as he locked eyes with me. "If there is anyone left who can stand against the Dark Lord, it will be you. Your abilities may not be fully developed yet, but no one knows that. I am confident that you will have them under control by the time an attack is imminent."

My mouth was dry, even though I had just drunk. My face turned so white that it seemed to be reflected on the highly polished mahogany table. "I thought we were meant to stay out of this," I said as soon as I felt up to it again, a pathetic, ill-considered attempt to extricate myself from something that scared the hell out of me. I might be confident and in tune with myself and my ability, but it still felt out of my league. At least now.

"Well, according to lore and prophecy, and our promise to always stand in favor of magic itself, and neither light nor dark, it is not our right to interfere in the machinations of Lord Voldemort, that is true. However, it is something else when we are specifically attacked and defend ourselves with everything we have," my father explained. He realized how uncomfortable and insecure I felt but chose to ignore it. There was no room for weakness, not for a Peverell, come what may.

"You're trained well enough, dear. And we still have a little bit of a surprise effect. He may know that at least one of us has special powers, but surely not who," my mother said with words of encouragement. I felt a little better straight away, although I still felt a bit scared and nervous.

"Do we even know when they're going to attack?" Cyrus spoke up who, like Skylar, had listened less to the conversation but seemed to have picked up on the most important key words.

"A contact only spoke of their knowledge of this and of having heard of an imminent attack. He didn't know any more details. We just must be ready at any time of day or night," replied one of my parents' acquaintances. Everyone seemed so confident, so ready. So willing to go into battle and defend what was to defend.

As the evening progressed, various strategies were discussed, escape plans, everything from Plan A to Plan Z. My parents and their allies had given it some thought, as serious as the situation we found ourselves in.

We had the power and the knowledge and yet I couldn't help but wonder; was it enough?

When I went to bed that night, I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach about what could and would happen in the next few days.

I couldn't sleep, just tossed and turned and just couldn't get any rest. I gave up the pathetic attempt to force my body to rest when it was flushed with less success. Instead, I just let my thoughts drift away. They fell on my family.

Two weeks earlier, April 26th.

Rowena & Ignotus Peverell

It was a rainy day when I walked around my parents' large estate to check on my sister's presence. I had a question, so unimportant that I had already forgotten it when I witnessed something else.

As I was walking past the large dining room, I heard my parents engaged in an intense conversation.

"Do you truly believe he's aware of our existence? We've operated under the radar for years, even decades. We've led him to believe we're all dead. We've lived in such secrecy - how could he possibly know?" My mother's voice quivered with concern. Until I overheard their conversation, I hadn't fully grasped the gravity of what they were discussing. Now, however, it was painfully clear.