Bound By Blood.

ch.25~ Scary.

"And thats how it felt to lose you.

Happy to see your capable of the emotion."

Translated recovered correspondents between Death Eater Mattheo Riddle, to Order Member Alexandra Brooks, 2003.

Hogwarts, 1997.

Alexandra.

My nightmares often haunt me. 

Mostly about my childhood. 

The attempted kid-napping, how hard my father fought for me, from what I remember of it all. 

To have him ripped from me, years later. 

You'd think the order would've stripped that from me too, but no. I was forced to relive it, whenever my brain decided. 

It felt as if my father sent me the nightmare himself. As if he was watching over me, and personally saw the night I spent with Mattheo. 

With a Riddle. 

Its like he was reminding me himself, of where Mattheo comes from. 

Who he really is. 

As if that thought didn't live in my head already, its like my father wanted to personally instill it in me, again. 

I woke suddenly from a restless sleep, the remnants of my nightmare still clinging to me like cobwebs. 

My heart raced, pounding in my chest, and I struggled to shake off the disorientation that clung to my mind like a fog.

Just as I was catching my breath and trying to reorient myself in the dim light of my room, I heard whispers and the unmistakable sound of someone tiptoeing outside my door. 

I recognized that familiar hushed giggle—Fred and George were up to something again.

Before I could fully grasp the situation, the door burst open, and they charged in with an exaggerated flourish, brandishing what looked like a canister of glitter and a loud drumroll sound effect from behind their backs.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Fred shouted, his face lighting up with mischief.

"Today's your lucky day! You get to be our newest test subject!" George added, hardly able to contain his laughter.

But they didn't notice the shadow lingering in my mind. 

Startled from a nightmare, and now facing the unpredictable chaos that was the Weasley twins.

My instincts kicked into high gear.

"Guys, no—" I started to plead, but it was too late.

Their prank detonated in a shower of sparkles, glitter raining down like a winter storm. 

The sound of the tiny canister releasing its contents combined with their laughter shattered my fragile calm, and my heart lurched. 

I was still too jumpy from my dreams, the shock of their sudden entrance and expansive energy hitting me all at once.

In sheer panic, I instinctively raised my wand and shouted, "Stupefy!"

There was a bright flash of light, and in an instant, Fred and George were caught off-guard, frozen in the act of throwing confetti. 

The spell ricocheted off a nearby wall, sometimes bending the rules of spell-casting in a manner only Fred and George could appreciate.

Instead of stunning them, it sent back the very confetti they had thrown, creating a wild swirl of color that caught them completely by surprise.