Riddled // Mattheo Riddle

chapter eleven

   I pull my yellow and brown Hufflepuff housecoat tighter around my body as I exit the dungeons into the corridors, which are just as dark under the cover of the night. The only light is the occasional small flame flickering away in a sconce.

   "Where do you think you're going at this hour?" A deep voice startles me from behind and I whip around to see Mattheo casually leaning against a wall. He's wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. It's the first time I've seen him wear something so casual. So vulnerable.

   I tuck my hair behind my ears, "Oh, I was going to the library to look into something Hagrid mentioned."

   "Something you don't want your friends to know you're looking into?" I stay silent. "I told you to let me help you." His voice is flat and unyielding.

   "To be honest, I didn't think you were serious. I also didn't realize we were friends." I'm quite confident he only tolerates me because I'm Draco's sister and because my magic is a mystery he wants to solve. A mystery he doesn't have control over and he hates it.

   "We're not," Ouch. "but this obsession you have with figuring out what's hidden in this castle is way more dangerous than you realize and I will try to lead you back to safety at every turn but if you insist on being stubborn, I won't let you face it alone."

   I slowly rock back and forth on my slippered feet, pretending to think about whether or not I'll let him join me. Even though I know he will follow me regardless. And honestly, I don't want to do this alone.

   "Oh alright. Come on then." I turn and continue my journey towards the library, but not before I notice the corner of his lip kick up.

✧

   Aside from the few Ravenclaws that like to do extra readings and the odd house elf cleaning, the library is almost empty this late at night. In the center of the sprawling two-story room, small oil lamps flicker in the middle of long, wooden tables. That, along with the silence that's only broken by the turn of a page or the scratch of a quill, sends a wave of calm over me.

   "So, are you going to tell me what it is we're looking for?" Mattheo whispers.

   "Not what, who. We're looking for anything on a man named Nicolas Flamel."

   I watch his eyes scan the shelves on both floors as if the book with all the answers would fly right into his hands. "Nicolas Flamel... Right." Without another word, he stalks towards the first row of shelves to the left.

   I start with the shelves on the right. Casting Lumos, I slowly scan the spines of books of all shapes and sizes and... textures. If only I knew at least one thing about Flamel, I could narrow our search but with absolutely nothing to go off, checking every individual book will have to suffice.

   Although my eyes are searching for Flamel, I can't help but also look for anything that could be related to my ancient magic. Anything, that could give me answers.

   I pull a dusty leather tome called 'Extraordinary Wizard Ordeals' and flip through the pages. Stopping on a page with a portrait of a man with a hood covering half his face, I fidget with the corner of the weathered parchment as I skim the page.

   The man in the portrait suddenly extends off the page and knicks my finger with a miniature dagger before falling back into place while wagging his finger at me disapprovingly.

   With a hiss, I drop the book onto the desk that runs the length of the shelves. I scowl at the man on the page, who now has a blackened smile spread across his face. After flipping him off, I slam the book shut and shove it back onto the shelf.