trigger warning: eating disorder
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Mattheo's POV
The soft scratching sounds of quills on parchment and the monotonous murmuring of the few students in the library seemed to put me in a strange state of irritation and restlessness.
The heavy smell of old books and dried ink stains hung in the air like an invisible mist, and the dim light coming through the tall windows cast long shadows across the tables.
I was annoyed. Not just by the boring task, but by Bennett too. She sat across from me, slumped over her parchment, as if the frantic writing was somehow keeping her upright. Her oversized sweater hung loosely on her frame, and today it seemed less like a comfortable piece of clothing and more like a barrier—armor against the outside world.
Something was wrong.
"Bennett," I said sharply, my patience long gone. "Are you even listening to me? You've been sitting on the same line for ages—"But before I could finish, I noticed her grip on the pen loosen. Her hand trembled slightly, and the pen slipped from her fingers, falling to the table with a soft clink. Her eyes glazed over, and I saw her shoulders begin to sway.
"Bennett?" My tone became more serious, almost alarmed, as she tipped forward. "Damn it, Bennett!" I jumped up, ignoring the weight of my chair tipping back, and reached her just in time before her head hit the table. My hands wrapped around her shoulders, and I pulled her back slightly to support her better. Her skin felt cold and clammy, and her breathing was shallow.
"Shit," I muttered, an uncomfortable stab of pain rising in my chest. I hated her. I kept reminding myself of that. But this? This was different.Some students nearby stared at us, their eyes wide with curiosity. I turned to them with a scowl. "Don't you have anything better to do?" I barked, and they quickly averted their eyes, some mumbling apologies.
I slid my arm under her knees and lifted her up. Her arms hung limply at her side, and I could feel the weakness of her body in every step as I left the library. Her hair tickled my skin, and her scent—a mixture of vanilla and old books—involuntarily reached my nose.
The halls of Hogwarts were unusually quiet, except for the clack of my footsteps on the flagstones. My breathing quickened as I approached the hospital wing, not because of the weight, but because of the strange restlessness that had settled within me.
Theo met me halfway, his hands in the pockets of his uniform. When he saw me with Bennett in my arms, he raised an eyebrow. "What the hell is that?" he asked dryly, the hint of a smile on his lips. "Don't ask, Nott," I growled, glaring at him. "Open the damn doors." He frowned, but saw the urgency and obeyed, pushing open the heavy wooden doors to the hospital wing with a flourish.
Madame Pomfrey rushed over immediately, her white sleeves rolled up, and eyed us with a practiced gaze. "What happened?" she asked sternly, her voice brooking no argument."She collapsed," I said shortly as I carefully laid Bennett down on one of the cots. Her blonde hair fell like a curtain over the pillow, and her face was so pale that I swallowed involuntarily."How long had she been in this state?" Pomfrey asked, moving her wand over Bennett's body, muttering spells under her breath."I don't know," I admitted reluctantly. "She hasn't eaten in hours. Maybe since yesterday."
Pomfrey shook her head and pulled out a bottle of an amber liquid. "The child is dehydrated and hypoglycemic," she said, more to herself than to me, as she moistened Bennett's lips with a spoon. "Why hasn't anyone said anything?"
I clenched my fists, wanting to argue, but I couldn't find the words."Out," Pomfrey finally said, not taking her eyes off Bennett. "I need space. She needs to rest.""But—" I began, but Theo put a hand on my shoulder."Mattheo," he said quietly, "let her do it. She knows what she's doing."
I gave Bennett one last look. She seemed so... fragile. It made me angry—angry at her, at me, at everything. Without another word, I turned and left the room, the echo of my footsteps echoing through the silent halls. Outside, I leaned against the cold stone wall and ran my hand through my hair. My breathing was shallow and my chest felt as if an invisible weight was pressing down on it.
"What's wrong with you?" asked Theo, who stood next to me."I don't know," I muttered, staring at the floor. "Why the hell do I even care?"Theo grinned weakly. "Maybe because you're not the heartless bastard you always pretend to be."I glared at him. "Shut up, Nott."He laughed softly, but said nothing more. I stood there for a while longer before pushing off the wall and walking down the hall, determined to ignore this feeling - however pointless that might be.

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A heart beneath the mark
FanfictionIn a world divided by houses and dark legacies, Hannah Bennett, a clever Ravenclaw, never expected her path to cross with Mattheo Riddle, the son of Voldemort. Cold, calculating, and marked by his father's dark heritage, Mattheo is everything Hanna...