Boundless

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒𝟎

The school was on lockdown after the death of Dumbledore. The air was thick with tension, and a constant sense of dread hung over us all. Draco and I had managed to escape unscathed thanks to Snape's protection, but the fear of being on Voldemort's radar was ever-present.

Every student was confined to their common rooms and dorms until further notice. My mind, however, refused to settle. Draco had locked himself in his dorm after that fateful night, and the isolation was palpable.

Mattheo had moved all my belongings into his dorm. "If Dumbledore can be killed," he'd said, his voice filled with a grim resolve, "I don't want to think about what could happen to you." His words were meant to be reassuring, but they only heightened my anxiety.

Mattheo was still clueless about the full extent of what had happened. So were all our friends. I had grown accustomed to lying over the summer, but it never got any easier. I needed someone to confide in, but with Draco locked away in his dorm and Harry isolated in his own, I felt trapped.

I sat on Mattheo's bed as he busied himself with unpacking my things. His method of organization was meticulous, and I didn't have the heart to intervene. He was calm, but it wasn't the calm of someone at ease. He was on guard, aware of the broader implications of his father's plans.

"Matt," I finally broke the silence, but he continued to rummage through my things.

"Mattheo," I said more clearly.

He looked up from the pile of clothes. "What is it?"

"I need to talk to you," I said, standing up from the bed.

"About what?" He asked, going back to unpacking.

"Can you stop for a second?" I pleaded, watching him set my clothes aside and stand up.

"I have to tell you something," I said, my voice trembling.

Mattheo gestured for me to continue, his expression serious.

"I did something terrible. Something I wouldn't wish upon anyone," I said, struggling to keep my composure.

"What did you do?" Mattheo's voice was calm but carried an edge of concern.

"I killed Dumbledore," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You what?" Mattheo's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I knew about Draco's mission. I was there the night it happened and I intervened," I explained, my heart pounding.

"Stella-"

"I had to, okay? I'm sorry, but I had to. Draco was hurting, and if he didn't act, I knew your father would hurt him," I cried out, my tears spilling over.

"I would never let him touch you," Mattheo said, his voice firm but tinged with pain.

"I know. I know that, but I couldn't just watch. It was like Dumbledore was asking for it. Like he knew he had to die," I said, my voice breaking.

"Who else knows?" Mattheo asked, his face a mixture of anger and worry.

"Harry," I said quietly.

"Harry?" Mattheo echoed, confusion and frustration in his voice.

"I asked him to see Dumbledore, but he never left after Draco and the Death Eaters arrived," I said, feeling the weight of my words.

"Why did you need him to speak with Dumbledore?" Mattheo pressed, his gaze intense.

I hesitated, looking away until Mattheo's hand found my chin, gently guiding me to meet his eyes.

"Because we needed information," I admitted.

"Who did?" Mattheo asked, his brow furrowing.

"Me and Draco," I said, feeling the burden of the truth.

"What information, Stella? What are you talking about?" Mattheo's voice grew more insistent.

"I needed to know what Dumbledore knew," I said, trying to steady my voice.

"About what?" Mattheo's eyes searched mine.

"About the Horcruxes," I said, the term feeling foreign on my tongue.

"The what?" Mattheo asked, clearly confused.

"The objects that contain parts of your father's soul," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Why do you need to know that?" Mattheo asked, his voice trembling.

"Because it's what's killing him," I said, the gravity of my words hitting hard.

"Killing him? You mean it's killing my father?" Mattheo's voice cracked with emotion.

"This summer, Regulus told me about these Horcruxes that can be created by splitting your soul through murder. He stopped looking for them after my father died, but I continued searching," I said, feeling the weight of my actions.

Mattheo's hand fell from my face, his expression one of shock.

"I made friends with some really bad people, Matt. I've seen and felt things that are beyond what anyone should endure. It's why I was so messed up on drugs. It's what kept me going," I confessed, feeling the shame in my voice.

Mattheo's legs buckled, and he sank down by the bay window.

"I destroyed one Horcrux. The third one," I said, trying to explain. "Theo told me your father was weak, and I knew I was onto something, so I told Draco."

"Draco?" Mattheo's eyes were filled with confusion and pain.

"He wanted out. He doesn't want to fight this war, so I told him. But we can't find the next Horcrux, so I asked Harry," I explained.

"Harry too?" Mattheo's frustration was palpable.

"Hermione and Ron know," I admitted, feeling the sting of his anger.

"Why don't you just put it on a bloody poster, Stella? 'Ways to kill my father,' plastered all over the school," Mattheo said, his voice a mixture of fury and despair.

"I'm sorry," I said, tears streaming down my face.

"You're sorry? What is wrong with you, Stella? All you do is lie to me," Mattheo's voice rose in anger.

"I couldn't tell you any of this. I hardly grasped it myself. But at least I wasn't the child of the man we want dead," I said, my voice shaking.

"So what? You think you're the golden child now because you figured it out? You lied to me for an entire year, Stella," Mattheo said, his anger unabated.

"I was worried about how you'd react," I said, my voice breaking.

"How the hell did you think I'd react?" Mattheo demanded.

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just trying to help," I said, my voice a whisper.

"Help? You killed the biggest weapon?" Mattheo's voice was filled with disbelief.

"You really think you, Draco, Harry, and his little goons are going to defeat my father?" I said, feeling the weight of the situation.

"I don't know, but I have to do something," I said, my voice filled with desperation.

"Why couldn't you just sit back and let it happen?" Mattheo's voice was filled with frustration.

He placed his hands on my face, his touch both comforting and heartbreaking. "Why do you have to get involved? How can I protect you now? You'll be on his radar."

"I couldn't let Draco get hurt," I cried, my voice breaking.

Mattheo's arms wrapped around me tightly, and his hand moved up and down my back for comfort.

"I know," he said softly, "but now I can't let you get hurt."

"I'm scared," I admitted, my voice muffled against his shoulder.

"I'll protect you," Mattheo said, his voice firm with determination.