The Serpent & Hawke | Mattheo Riddle | Enemies to lovers

Part 58 - A traitor

Mattheo's POV

Sleep was futile.

Harry and I sat awake in the dungeon's oppressive darkness, with only our restlessness and the weight of failure keeping us company.

Harry methodically examined the iron brackets holding the lanterns, his fingers tracing every seam and joint, searching for any weakness we could exploit.

The dancing flames cast his shadow in grotesque shapes against the walls, making one person look like many.

It was almost poetic — we were indeed outnumbered, outmanoeuvred, and vulnerable without our wands.

The cutlery had vanished with our last meal, leaving us without even the simplest tools..

Our best plan — if you could even dignify it with that word — was to lunge at whoever came through the door next.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, as the saying went.

Though in our case, desperate barely scratched the surface.

Dawn must have come, marked only by the lanterns dimming automatically.

The windowless room left us disconnected from time itself.

I stifled a yawn, exhaustion clawing at my edges.

Every muscle ached from sleeping on stone, but I forced myself to stay alert.

Whatever today brought, I needed every scrap of strength I could muster.

Harry appeared from behind a far column, buckling his belt with trembling fingers.

Another indignity, being forced to use a bucket in the corner of our prison, the same space where we attempted to find rest.

He slid down the wall beside me, his shoulder brushing mine.

The contact was grounding, a reminder that at least we weren't alone in this hell.

His eyes kept darting to my face, heavy with unspoken understanding that made my chest tight.

"What?"

I turned to face him fully, though I already knew the answer.

He sat mirroring my position, knees drawn to chest, arms draped over.

"You're not going to escape without her, are you?"

His question sliced through the heavy silence.

I let my head fall back against the cold stone, sliding my gaze away from his knowing look.

The answer hung between us, unspoken but clear as crystal.

I wasn't leaving if Lyanna wasn't with me.

I couldn't.

The very thought of leaving her here made me physically ill.

If they had to continue the horcrux hunt without me, so be it.

"Bellatrix freaked out over that sword." Harry said softly, mercy in his deflection. "She was scared. Really scared."

I exhaled. 

"Maybe it's because she knows it can destroy horcruxes."

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes sharp despite our exhaustion.

"We can't leave without it."

Before I could respond, the sound of multiple footsteps echoed from beyond the door, the sharp tap of boots on stone growing louder.