guilty as sin, mattheo riddle

chapter 2

to mattheo riddle, the murder of the extended nott family was little more than an inconvenience. it was one of his people, a death eater, who had done it, therefore it was his duty to clean up the mess. it was a grotesque scene, if he did say so himself. the floors were flooded with blood, smears of it marking the walls, but that wasn't what had surprised him. in fact, the crime wasn't even the worst he had seen. what caught him off guard had been the girl. he didn't dare think her name, didn't dare let his thoughts drift back to her. he walked into the small house the family must have lived in, and amidst the blood and wreckage sat a girl, stained red almost head to toe, with her eyes wide open as she gazed up at the ceiling. he had approached her, of course he had. it wasn't his job to leave things to chance. it was his job to finish business. she didn't meet his eye, just continued staring and staring and staring. no tears spilled from her eyes, no cries could be heard. just silence.

it was the first time he had ever seen a witness first hand. it took him three weeks to learn her name, or more so, her value. he had been graduated from hogwarts for about a year, and yet still sometimes his mind failed him. he was what could've been considered a genius. his grades were high, as was his iq, and it was widely known he had a mind for crime. theft was the most common speculation, arson after that. what was never considered, was murder. he was a sophisticated man, young with so many opportunities ahead of him. no, he was no murderer. or so thought the public. to him, the rumors meant nothing. he didn't care what they thought he was capable of. he had no limits. he was smart, ridiculously so, so it was no surprise when he should've realized the girl was of value.

despite the ways she had been taught, she was a nott, a pure blooded witch. truthfully, mattheo couldn't say much about her. he didn't know her house or her favorite color, her preference in any topic whatsoever, but he could say that she was weak. he could see it in the way she laid helplessly amid the pools of blood, in the way her eyes were unblinking and empty. she was weak in the same way he was smart. it was just built into her character. perhaps he was misjudging her. perhaps she wouldn't be weak forever.

only one thing was for certain. the identity of the murderer was unknown to all but one person. if the case were to be solved, it would be solved by her. the one and only eye witness. someone who happened to be unable to recall even a single event from that night, apart from the blood. the blood the blood the blood. he knew, in the way he watched her stare down at her hands, at the way she glanced at the ceilings and floors of every room she was in, that the blood had stained her mind the same way it stained her hands all those days ago. yet she couldn't cough up a name, couldn't close the case the way authorities wanted her to. he almost felt bad. almost, but not quite.

mattheos house was small considered to his familial estate. his father still occupied it, so he preferred not to linger. at four stories and 300,000 square feet, his residence was almost laughable. it was his desire to inherit the riddle estate, and soon. the only thing that stood in his way was his father. the thing his peers failed to take into consideration was that he never did anything without a plan. the nott murders had thrown him off kilter for once, an untimely distraction to pull him away from his real mission. the tattoo marring his left forearm depicted his duty to the death eaters, to his father, but where did his duty truly lie? he made no stands, kept his opinions to himself, bided time. soon, he thought to himself during late nights. everything will fall into place.

the cigarette balanced in his hand teetered slightly as he twirled it between his fingers. a chubbier, older hand reached across a desk that was marked in dark carvings older than him, offering a match to light it. he accepted. his suit was pristine and crisp, making sure he kept up with his image. an unshakeable genius. the heir to the darkest wizarding dynasty the world had ever seen.
"you wanted to speak?" mattheo prompts, taking a drag from his cigarette before nonchalantly settling in his chair, playing his part of the arrogant rich boy.
"yes," the man said curtly, "thank you for coming at such short notice."
a sharp smirk pulled at his lips, "always, for such loyal followers."
the man paled slightly, staring down at the dark oak desk before him, "our niece-" he started before mattheo cut him off.
"yes, i've been meaning to ask." he paused for a moment, letting false apathy fill his voice before continuing, "how is she handling it all?"
"well," the wife said gracefully, clasping a hand on her husbands shoulder, "thank you for asking."
he only nodded, glancing back to meet the gaze of the uncle, "you were saying?"
he cleared his throat, "she- ...we've decided it would be in her best interest to marry."
"to marry." mattheo said thoughtfully, "who did you have in mind?"
his wife smiled in relief, "we thought maybe mr malfoy or-" her smile dropped as she took in the look on his face.
"i will take her." he said flatly, nodding in goodbye before leaving the study. the notts had a penchant for madness, and staying in their estate too long gave him strange notions. as he walked back down to the entrance hall, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of the girl, walking slowly, her hair unbound and wavy against her back, her long silk black dress dragging behind her slowly. she didn't turn, didn't meet his eye, but he got the strangest sensation that she knew he was there, that she knew what had transpired between them that night. she stopped for a moment, but never turned. he stopped too, and even when she walked away, even when she was out of site, he stayed rooted to the floor for a moment, staring at the area she had occupied. as if snapping himself out of a daydream, he continued his pursuit for the exit. that house, it drove him mad.

the dark oak doors swung shut delicately behind him, so quietly he was certain that at any other house there would be no indication of his absence, but this was no normal house. the nott manor was always rumored to have a mind- and soul of its own, and after seeing the madness some of the notts succumbed to, he could almost believe it. against his will, the name flashed through his mind again. this time, he turned toward the house that seemed to be haunting him, as if he could stare right through to the girl who walked around the halls as if she herself was a ghost. her name was bitter on his lips, the memories fresh in his mind, so clear he could almost smell the blood in the air.
"charlotte nott."