Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter twenty-seven

Lucia

June 3rd, 3:00 p.m., London

We finally found refuge in a decrepit warehouse tucked away in the forgotten corners of the city. The interior was dark and musty, filled with old crates and cobwebs. It was far from luxurious, but it offered a sense of security that we desperately needed. After securing the entrances with wards and barriers, we settled into a small corner of the warehouse, both of us exhausted but alert.

Mattheo and I worked together in silence, our movements synchronized by necessity and familiarity. The day had been long and filled with danger, but in this moment, we had a brief respite from the chaos.

As the hours passed, the dim light filtering through the broken windows shifted, casting eerie shadows on the walls. We sat on a dusty old mattress we had found, leaning against each other for support. The silence between us was comfortable, a rare moment of peace amidst the turmoil.

"How are you holding up?" Mattheo asked, his voice a low murmur.

"I'm managing," I replied, managing a small smile. "Just trying to process everything."

He nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and determination. "We've come a long way, but there's still so much to do."

I sighed, leaning my head against his shoulder. "Do you think we'll find enough allies to help us?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "There are still people fighting. The Order of the Phoenix, resistance groups, individuals who refuse to give in. We just need to find them and rally them."

The mention of the Order sparked a glimmer of hope within me. "Do you know how to contact them?"

Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding. "There's someone I trust. He's been working with the Order in secret. If we can find him, we can get a message to the rest of the Order."

"Who is he?" I asked, curious.

"A friend from Hogwarts," Mattheo said, his expression unreadable. "Someone who has always fought for what is right."

There was a note of fondness in his voice that intrigued me. "Do you think he will help us?"

"He will," Mattheo said with conviction. "He knows what's at stake."

We lapsed into silence again, each lost in our thoughts. The flickering light cast a warm glow on Mattheo's face, highlighting the sharp angles and the scars that told a story of their own. I found myself staring at him, wondering how someone who had once been my captor could now be my ally, my protector.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Mattheo asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. "Just... thinking."

"About what?"

"About how far we've come," I admitted. "And how much further we have to go."

Mattheo reached out, his hand gently cupping my cheek. The touch was unexpected, but not unwelcome. "We'll get through this," he said softly. "Together."

There it was again – that word. Together. It held so much promise, so much hope. And as I looked into his eyes, I knew that no matter what lay ahead, we would face it side by side.

We took turns resting, catching brief moments of sleep while the other kept watch. The warehouse, though dilapidated, provided a semblance of safety. I drifted in and out of sleep, my dreams filled with fragmented memories and half-formed fears. Each time I awoke, Mattheo was there, his presence a steady anchor in the storm.