Faer • Mattheo Riddle

7.0

Three days passed in a haze of numbness, each one heavier than the last. I hadn't gone to Hogsmeade with the others.

I couldn't face anyone, not even Draco, not after everything. Instead, I lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind replaying every agonizing moment of the past week-Draco's kiss, Mattheo's cold taunts, the Dark Mark burning into my skin.

Every thought twisted like a blade, carving deeper into the parts of me I tried so hard to keep buried.

I hadn't eaten much, barely slept, and the consequences were starting to show. My body felt weak, frail, like a fragile shell barely containing the storm raging inside me.

My stomach had long stopped growling for food; it was as if I had become numb to the hunger, the pain, everything. But I could feel it wearing me down, the edges of me thinning and fraying, as if I was slowly unraveling.

It felt like I was disappearing.

Finally, I couldn't lie there anymore. The stillness of the dormitory was suffocating, pressing down on my chest until I could hardly breathe.

I dragged myself out of bed, every movement feeling like an immense effort. My body protested, bones aching under my skin, but I forced myself toward the bathroom.

When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized the person staring back.

My skin was sickly pale, almost translucent, and dark circles framed my eyes, hollow and sunken like I hadn't slept in days. My cheeks had thinned, my collarbone jutted out sharply, and I could count the ribs pressing against my shirt.

I looked like a ghost, hollowed out from the inside, and a wave of nausea hit me as I turned away from my reflection.

As if to remind me of my chains, the Dark Mark began to burn again, an all-too-familiar searing pain crawling up my arm.

The black snakes twisted under my skin, a cruel reminder of the Dark Lord's control over me.

His hold on me was relentless. No matter where I was, no matter how far I tried to run in my mind, he was always there, watching, owning me.

My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat as I stared down at the mark.

I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't keep carrying this weight alone.

The pain was unbearable, clawing up my arm and into my chest, threatening to consume me whole.

Mattheo's words about the ointment drifted back to me.

I hated him.

I loathed every part of him and the way he thought he could toy with me.

But right now, I needed something-anything-to stop the pain. And he was the only one who had offered.

I clenched my jaw, forcing the nausea down, and grabbed my wand before slipping out of the dormitory.

The common room was empty; everyone had gone to Hogsmeade, leaving the castle feeling eerily silent.

My footsteps echoed as I made my way through the corridors, each one feeling heavier than the last. I had to remind myself to breathe, to keep going.