The Serpent & Hawke | Mattheo Riddle | Enemies to lovers

Part 33 - Twisted form of entertainment

(warning: vomit & violence)

Mattheo's POV

My leg jittered beneath the polished ebony table as I scanned the faces of my father's followers.

Across from me, Snape's eyes bored into mine, his glare penetrating.

He must sense my internal panic.

If he can maintain this facade of loyalty to my father, then so can I.

I just needed to stay calm.

I discreetly wipe my forehead as the conversation continued around the table.

The sweat wasn't just from anxiety.

I was still dealing with the after-effects of that crazy weed from a few nights ago.

The lack of sleep doesn't help either.

My beds larger, emptier and colder than ever before.

Lyanna won't even spare me a glance across the classroom, never mind actually speak to me.

I've given her the space she asked for, but the distance was gnawing at me, especially not knowing why she asked for it in the first place.

"Onto other matters. The headmaster."

Voldemort's cold voice cuts through my thoughts.

Bellatrix, wild-haired and wild-eyed, cackled from her seat beside Snape.

"He won't be headmaster for much longer, my Lord."

The room erupted into laughter, a cacophony that made my skin crawl.

I swallowed hard, feeling my throat constrict.

"Yes, well."

Voldemort continued, his lipless mouth curving into what passed for a smile.

"A new plan has been set in motion, one that doesn't include cursed objects going walkies around the castle. We might see the end of that old oaf before New Year's."

I glanced down the table.

Lucius Malfoy looked more disheveled than I've ever seen him, now as tattered as his reputation.

Beside him, Narcissa caught my eye and offered a small, tight smile.

"Now, I believe my boy has earned his trust?"

All eyes swivel to me, and I felt the weight of their gazes like a physical pressure.

My eyes snap to him.

His serpentine gaze seemed to stare directly into my soul.

I meet my father's gaze, steeling myself, I nodded.

"Draco leaving that necklace in the school library worked out after all." He smirks, before adding. "Of course, it was unfortunate for the girl."

I remained silent, my hands clenching under the table.

"How is she?" His voice sounded genuine, but I knew better.

"Recovering." I managed, keeping my tone neutral.

"That's what we like to hear." He reached out and squeezed my shoulder.

I winced internally.

Alfred, the deep red-haired Death Eater who trained me over summer, spoke up.

"My Lord, I have a question. If Mattheo planned on delivering the cursed necklace to Dumbledore, why'd Draco feel the need to steal it from him?"

The room began to murmur, the sound reminiscent of agitated snakes.