Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter twenty-six

Lucia

June 2nd, 2:20 a.m., Train to London

The train sped through the night, the rhythmic clatter of wheels against tracks a steady, almost soothing backdrop. As I gazed out the window, the landscape blurred into a dark tapestry of shadowed hills and dense forests. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the rolling countryside. It painted the trees in a spectral light, their branches stretching like skeletal fingers toward the heavens. Occasionally, the train would cross an old stone bridge, and beneath us, I could see the glistening threads of rivers winding their way through the valleys.

Fields of tall grass, swaying gently in the night breeze, looked like an endless ocean, dark and mysterious. Here and there, solitary houses dotted the landscape, their windows flickering with the faint light of candles or lanterns, tiny beacons in the vast darkness. The beauty of the scene was haunting, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had become our lives.

The compartment we sat in was a stark reminder of how much had changed. Once, the train had been a symbol of joy and adventure, carrying students to Hogwarts, filled with laughter and excitement. Now, it was a relic of a time long past. The seats, once plush and inviting, were now worn and uncomfortable. The upholstery was frayed, the cushioning thin and lumpy. I shifted in my seat, trying to find a position that didn't make my back ache.

The walls of the compartment were stained and faded, the wood paneling scuffed and scratched. A small, grimy window provided a limited view of the passing scenery, the glass smudged with fingerprints and streaked with dirt. The air inside was stale, carrying the faint scent of mildew and something metallic. It was clear this train hadn't been maintained with the care it once received.

As I settled into my seat, trying to ignore the discomfort, my thoughts turned to the strange fact that the train and the train station hadn't been guarded. Given the oppressive regime that now ruled, I had expected checkpoints, guards, and thorough inspections. But there had been none of that. The station had been eerily quiet, devoid of the usual signs of control and surveillance.

It felt unsettling, like a trap set with too much care. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were walking into something we didn't fully understand. Why was there no security? Had the Death Eaters become so confident in their reign that they saw no need for vigilance? Or was this some kind of oversight, a crack in their otherwise impenetrable facade of power?

I glanced at Mattheo, who sat across from me, his expression thoughtful and alert. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his eyes scanning the compartment and occasionally flicking to the window. I wondered if he was as uneasy as I was, if the lack of guards bothered him too. But I didn't voice my concerns; the silence between us felt too fragile to break with uncertainties.

Instead, I let my mind wander, trying to piece together the puzzle. The quiet of the train, the emptiness of the station - it all felt wrong. But it also provided us with a chance, a rare opportunity to move without immediate threat. I clung to that small glimmer of hope, trying to push aside the nagging doubts that gnawed at the edges of my mind.

The train continued its relentless journey through the night, carrying us closer to London and whatever awaited us there. The landscape outside was a blur of dark beauty, reminding us of the World we needed to save. And as we sped through the night, I thought about the things that were worth fighting for.

I shifted in my seat once more, letting out a frustrated groan. "Damn, this is uncomfortable," I muttered, exasperation clear in my voice as I struggled to find a position that offered any semblance of comfort.

Mattheo glanced at me, a smirk playing on his lips, accompanied by a soft chuckle. "Not enough ass to sit comfortably?" he teased.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up. As if you'd find it any better," I retorted, my irritation evident.