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Lillian Black
MATTHEO, ENZO, DRACO and I stood in Professor McGonagalls classroom. The boys were still in the quidditch jumpers. Their hair was messy, Mattheo had a busted lip and bruising jaw, Dracos nose had dried blood, and Enzo had a bruising cheek bone. I had my arms crossed over my chest, as Professor McGonagall continued to stare at us.
"Why is it, that you three, are always in trouble?" McGonagall asked Enzo, Draco, and I. Enzo smirked.
"Minnie," I started, ready to defend myself.
"This is serious, Lily! McLaggen had to be taken to Madam Pomfrey. I'm sure he will be there overnight."
"We still won the match, though. Right?" Enzo asked.
"And you, Riddle. I must say I find it not so suprising that you were the one who started this." McGonagall said. Mattheo merely kept his jawn clenched.
"Professor, Mattheo didn't start it. McLaggen was talking-" Draco said.
"Enough." McGonagall interupted him. I looked at Mattheo, who wouldn't meet my gaze.
"No Quidditch, for three weeks."
Draco crossed his arms over his chest.
"What does that have to do with Lily?" Enzo asked.
"Oh great, thanks." I told Enzo. But, he was right. What was the point of getting me in trouble but not even giving me a punishment.
"Lily..." McGonagall took a few moments to think of a punishment for me.
"No library for you. For four-"
"Four?!"
"Three weeks." McGonagall finished. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Off you go." McGonagall dismissed us.
We all went back to the common room, which was busy with loud students, happy for winning the game. Enzo and Draco joined Blaise, Theo, and Pansy at the couches. As Mattheo went up to his dorm, I followed him.
He nearly closed the door on me, but I stuck out my arm. He furrowed his eyebrows.
"What're you doing?" He asks, but he closes the door behind me.
"I-"
Mattheo lifts his quidditch jumper above his head, pulling it off of him. I quickly look away. He smirks, grabbing a shirt of his and putting it on.
"Come here." I tell him, walking into his bathroom. I half expect him to not follow me, but he does after a few seconds.
I pull out a muggle first aid kit from the cupboard, which Narcissa Malfoy had Draco bring to school each year. He leans back against the counter, his arms crossed.
"What did Cormac say to you?" I ask quietly. Mattheo clenches his jaw.
I look up at him. His hair was a little messy from the game, his bottom lip had a cut on it and was lightly swollen, and a purple bruise was begining to form on his jaw. I take out a wipe from the kit.
I slowly and carefully take the wipe, and touch it to his jaw. He doesn't react, though it should sting. He seems tense under my touch, and I start to think that nobody has ever done this to him. For him.
"He asked if you still spit or swallow." Mattheo said.
My eyes widen and I let out a small gasp. That prick. I can't believe I ever thought he was being a genuine person towards me.
"Well? Do you?" Mattheo asks.
My hand meets his cheek, slapping him.
It was a sloppy slap. He didn't wince, and it barely even turned his head to the side. He just smiles.
"I would never be with that git." I say, shaking my head. As I reach into the kit to pull out a gauze to wipe his lip next, he Mattheo grabs my hand to stop me.
"Sit." He says, nodding towards the counter behind him.
"I'm perfectly fine." I tell Mattheo. But when I look into the mirror in front of me, my mouth opens slightly in shock. The corner of my bottom lip was bruising, and there was some blood that reached my chin. It must have happened when Cormac elbowed me in the face, of course.
I reluctantly use my arms behind me to hoist myself onto the counter to sit. Mattheo comes to the front of me, grabbing a gauze from the kit.
Even though I'm sitting on the counter, he's still taller than me. He jaw clenches when he sees the small amount of blood on me, but his eyes are softened.
I sit very still as he brings the gauze up to my chin, his one hand holding my chin in place, while the other carefully wipes away the blood. It's the first time I feel his hands on my face in a caring manner.
I think he can notice the thoughts going through my head, a mile a minute, because he says, "Don't get too comfortable."
"Why are you helping me, then?" I ask back.
"You'd think McLaggen's mother would've taught him it's wrong to hit girls." Mattheo mumbles.
As Mattheo uses the same wipe on my chin that I used on his jaw, I wince. It was subtle, but enough for Mattheo to notice and take the wipe off.
I'm holding my breath, when he brings his thumb up to my lip. He places it genlty on the dried cut, carefully wiping away the excess medicine. I'm stuck staring into his eyes, my lips parted slightly. As his eyes travel from my lips, up to my eyes, I start to feel my heart rate pick up. Right in this moment, I've never felt this way before.
The door to the dorm swings open, Mattheo and I snap our heads to the door. Our friend group loudly piles into the room. Mattheo takes a great step back and out of the bathroom. I slide off the counter.
☆☆☆
Two nights later, I'm laying on my stomach off the edge of my bed. It felt like I was on dorm arrest or grounded. I desperately needed to go the library. My homework was taking me twice as long without the help of extra textbooks.
I stared at the Marauders map. My dad gave me the map at the end of third year as a sort of parting gift for the time being. I watched the many foot prints travel across the map.
I could see Lavender and Ron walking together down a corridor. Theo was at the astronomy tower. I found Professor McGonagall, walking from her classroom to the great hall. I bit my lip, seeing how far she was from the library. Maybe, if I was quick, I could sneak to the library.
As I scanned the map once more, I found Mattheo walking down a hallway. Then, his name disapeared.
I squinted, thinking my eyes just might be tired. I sat up. But when I scanned the map once more, I couldn't find Mattheo anywhere. How could he be there, and a second later, gone? That was impossible. The map is never wrong.
"Mischeif managed." I said, tapping the parchment with my wand and watching as all of the names slowly faded off of the map.
