Blood is falling | Slytherin boys

Everything is going to change

~y/ns pov~

The sound of Mattheo's footsteps fading away in the common room hits me like a ton of bricks, and I can't help but let the tears flow. I told him to go, but deep down, I wish he'd stay. Why can't I just be like everyone else? Like one of those paper thin girls with a paper thin life.

Maybe it's time to come clean? To spill the truth about what's really going on inside my head. I regret how I stormed out on Enzo and Draco, how I kicked Mattheo out of my room, and ignored all the love and support they were trying to give me. But then there's that nagging question: Can I really trust them? Tom and Mattheo are the sons of Voldemort, the very man who wants me dead. They could turn on me in an instant. And Draco's father is tangled up with the dark lord too, not to mention Enzo. But what about Theo? The darkside literally killed his mother; maybe he's someone I can rely on?

As I spiral through these thoughts, replaying my last argument with Mattheo, I find myself clutching my phone, fingers hovering over the screen as I type out a message.

"Can you meet me at the Quidditch field at midnight?" I send it off, heart racing.Almost immediately, my phone buzzes back. "Yeah, sure."It's only 9 PM. I have three hours to pull myself together and figure out how to lay it all out for him. This could change everything. My mind races with a list of potential disasters.1. He tells Voldemort.2. He freaks out on me.3. He might even kill me.4. He tells everyone.5. He gets angry.

And the list goes on, each possibility swirling in my head like a storm. Why does it have to be me? Why am I the one who has to save the world? Why me?

A few hours later, it's time to go. I take a deep breath, wipe my eyes, and throw on a baggy hoodie. I step out of my dorm, the door creaking softly behind me.

"Lumos," I whisper, my wand illuminating the dark hallway. I tiptoe down the corridor, trying to be as quiet as a mouse, hoping not to wake anyone or get caught. My heart races as I quicken my pace, desperate to get outside.

I don't even know why I'm feeling so scared at this moment. I mean, sneaking out and causing a ruckus is basically my specialty. But tonight, my nerves are really getting the best of me. As I push open another door, a rush of icy air hits me, sending chills through my hair and cracked lips. I inhale deeply, the cold so sharp that I can see my breath puffing out in little clouds. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, I make my way to the Quidditch field. To my surprise, there's Mattheo, already there, casually puffing on a cigarette.

I step on a stray branch, and he whips his head around, a grin spreading across his face when he sees it's just me. He flicks his cigarette away, breaking the quiet that hung between us. "Hey, I'm really sorry about earlier. I was just—" I cut him off before he can finish. "Forget it. I need to show you something." I'm not in the mood for his sympathy or apologies; I just want to get this done.

"Mattheo, you need to hear me out," I say, my voice serious. He raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, and nods. "Promise me you won't freak out, and you can't tell anyone about this."

He nods again, determination in his eyes. "I promise, I swear."

"See that quaffle?" I point to the bright red ball lying on the grass. Mattheo squints at it, clearly puzzled. I concentrate, channeling my energy, and the quaffle begins to float. I stretch my arm out, fingers curling as it dances in the air. Mattheo's eyes widen, a mix of shock and awe.

"Are... are you doing that?" he stammers.I lower my arm, and the quaffle drops to the ground with a soft thud. "Yeah, I am" I reply, a hint of sadness in my voice."What? How is that even possible? You don't have your wand!" His voice is a mix of disbelief and confusion."I have telekinesis," I whisper, the words barely escaping my lips. His jaw drops, and I can't quite read his expression—fear, anger, excitement? "Say something!" I urge, my heart racing.

"I... um... that's incredible," he finally manages to say, still trying to process it all.

"What?" I ask, a bit taken aback.

"Your powers, it's amazing!" he repeats, his voice shaky. He doesn't grasp the weight of this revelation for me, for us, for everything at Hogwarts.

"Mattheo... you don't understand, this is really serious, like, really serious." I say, my voice trembling with fear. He stares at me, confusion etched on his face, completely lost.

"I'm the prophecy, Mattheo. I'm the one your father wants dead. I'm the one who has the power to stop him," I say, tears welling up in my eyes. His expression shifts to one of shock, a flicker of fear crossing his features. "But why are you so scared? You can take him down, can't you?" he stammers.

"It's not that simple. If I had full control over my powers, sure, but I don't. I have no idea how strong I really am, and right now, I'm not strong enough," I admit, my voice quaking.

After what feels like an eternity of explaining, he finally sinks into a chair. "We need to tell the others. We need help. He's coming for you, y/n, and when he does, you'll need all the support you can get," Mattheo insists.

Is he really on my side? Against his own father? It's hard to wrap my head around, but maybe he's not as much like his dad as I thought.

He starts to piece together why I've been drowning myself in alcohol and smoke. It was fear—fear of dying, fear of speaking up, fear of taking action. But now, sharing this burden feels like a weight lifted off my shoulders. Maybe he wasn't the ideal person to confide in, but it's done, and I don't regret it."This is going to change everything, you know that, right?" he finally breaks the silence."I know," I reply softly, my gaze meeting his.