The Marauders of Slytherin

Bring It On Home

Summer at Malfoy Manor was, surprisingly, a relief. This was no thanks to my aunt and uncle (who were distressed about my great-grandfather Arcturus Black's passing), but only due to the coolness that radiated off the marble; the only hide-away from the simmering heat. My aunt and uncle were determined to get their hands on the inheritance, even though I was the only person that carried the name 'Black' besides my father, but he was out of the question. The heat, and Lucius were my only enemies. Mattheo was my sanctuary from my uncle's outbursts. I mean, Lucius was always grumpy, but it had all started the day that Mattheo found the Portkey to Bellatrix' heathland cottage, daring me to try it out. Or rather, when they discovered that we discovered it. Just two weeks before school would begin again, we were screwed.

"Do you think Bella misses us?" I asked Mattheo, when we were lying around in the field nearby her house.

He didn't answer.

"I mean, you know her even better than I do."

Mattheo sat up straight. "What makes you think that?"

I sat up as well. "You grew up with her, I only got visited by her once every few weeks."

Mattheo looked away, his dark eyes surveying the heathlands. "I do not suppose anyone knows her that well."

I observed him as he chewed on his thumb. I couldn't figure why he was so uncomfortable talking about Bella. I had pushed the news article from last term far away in my mind, but I hadn't forgotten. Would he know? He looked at me with piercing eyes. Sometimes, Mattheo could get a little intense. His gaze could command people in silence, as he often tried, but failed to do to me. I had learned a couple things from Bella myself and didn't give in so easily. But he could have a strange effect on people, and I had to shield myself from it more than once to not indulge, or admit defeat to him, even if I had the upper hand. I quickly thought about something else. About the fact that Dobby still had to do my laundry, about the letters Astoria and Lorenzo had written me and what to answer them.

"Don't avoid the subject," he said.

I frowned. He hadn't asked me anything, aside from that gaze commanding tell me what you know, I sense you're hiding something. "You're the one avoiding the subject. It's fine, I won't talk about Bella."

He sighed. "No, I was just being a bit piqued." All tension sipped away. He fidgeted with some red heather. "Growing up here wasn't always easy. I was never allowed to run around like we do now. Bella, she kept me like a secret from the world."

My eyes shifted from his hands to his face when he chose the exact words Narcissa had used during the fire-call; that Bella had kept Mattheo like a secret.

"Training me in the Dark Arts until I would be strong enough to face it, but I don't think she would ever be strong enough to let me face it. I wanted, needed, freedom. Her protection, and her love, suffocated me. I guess that she wanted to own me because I was the last piece of triumph that my father left behind before he died, even though he doesn't even know about me."

I thought about the feeling I had a year ago, when I set my bat off into the twilight, thinking about running away like my father had done, long before I was born. Mattheo nudged me gently with his shoulder. "We are kind of free now, aren't we."

I smirked. "Yup. What do you want to do?"

"Run."

"What?"

"Run." He pointed over my shoulder, where I saw Lucius approaching us, planting his staff firmly into the soil with every two steps. He looked very angry. We didn't run. We weren't that free, it turned out. As Lucius got closer, Mattheo tried to hide the Portkey in the lunch bag that we took with us every time we came here. That wasn't easy, because it was a long dagger. Lucius however did not care for Mattheo but kept promising eye-contact with me while he grabbed the both of us and apparated back to the Malfoy Manor.