Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter eleven

!TW! Some descriptions in that Chapter could be very unpleasant for people with arachnophobia (the fear of spiders).

Mattheo

May 13th, 4 p.m.

Hogwarts Grounds

Leaving Lucia behind in the dungeon did not weigh on my conscience. I had no room for such sentiments. Her suffering was merely a step in a larger game - a necessary sacrifice to meet my own ends. As I ascended the stone steps, the echo of my footsteps reverberating in the dimly lit corridor, I couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. I knew all too well the torment of having one's deepest fears weaponized against them. My own childhood had been a testament to that cruel reality.

My father had taken great pleasure in exposing me to my worst nightmares, breaking down every ounce of fear until it was replaced by a cold, hardened resolve. I had been forced to confront monstrous creatures, endure unbearable tortures, and face endless darkness, all designed to obliterate any semblance of fear. It had worked. I had become unbreakable, or so I believed.

Reaching the training grounds, the old Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, I tried to refocus my mind. The pitch, once a place of camaraderie and competition, had been transformed into a dark, foreboding arena under Voldemort's rule. The lush green field had been expanded, now marred with scorch marks and deep gouges from countless battles. The spectator towers, once vibrant with the colors of the Hogwarts houses, stood stark and dark, a testament to the new order. They no longer bore the cheerful banners of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, but instead loomed like silent sentinels over the grim training grounds. Beneath some of these towers, training equipment was stored, and doors had been installed into the ground of the arena, leading to subterranean caves where monsters were kept for training or gruesome displays. This place, once filled with cheers and the thrill of Quidditch matches, had become a site of bloodshed and horror. Voldemort had always despised Quidditch, considering it a frivolous waste of time, and he had banned it completely. Many had died on this pitch, both intentionally and unintentionally. It was now used to test the mettle of both new recruits and prisoners, a grim arena where survival was the only goal.

I remembered the times at Hogwarts where I had so much fun with my friends here, making out with girls under the towers and playing Quidditch with my friends, winning matches for the Slytherin House. But those days were long gone, replaced by this grim reality.

I unsheathed my wand, feeling the familiar surge of power as it thrummed in my hand. This was my sanctuary, a place to channel my frustrations and clear my mind. I began with basic spells, each incantation rolling off my tongue with practiced ease.

"Bombarda!" I shouted, sending a blast towards a distant target. The wooden dummy exploded into splinters, but the satisfaction was fleeting. My muscles tensed with every spell, and soon, I was sweating profusely in the warm afternoon sun.

Pausing for a moment, I felt the beads of sweat forming on my forehead. They trickled down my face, and I tore off my shirt, letting the cool breeze wash over my heated skin. The sun cast a golden glow on my bare torso, highlighting the muscles that rippled beneath the surface. Scars from past battles crisscrossed my upper body, each one a testament to the life I led. The sweat glistened on my skin, catching the sunlight as I moved. I noticed a group of young women passing by, giggling, and whispering as they stared. Then, I would relish the attention, maybe even use it to distract myself. But today, their glances felt like an intrusion. I ignored them, my focus solely on the task at hand. They were nothing more than a distant memory of simpler times at Hogwarts, where impressing onlookers had been a trivial pursuit.

But now, I had more pressing matters than dealing with simps or trying to impress gawking citizens. With a flick of my wand, I summoned a swarm of spiders in all shapes and colors. They scuttled out from the shadows, their many legs clicking against the stone floor as they advanced. Unlike Lucia, I felt no fear - spiders were merely another obstacle to overcome.