Bound By Blood.

ch.86~ Lessons.

There were no recovered or unsent correspondents

found from Order Member Alexandra Brooks, to Death Eater Mattheo Riddle

from February 2004, to April 2004.

Riddle Manor, 2004.

Mattheo.

The night time had an eerie silence to it now. I knew, with a certainty that sent a chill down my spine, that I wouldn't see her grey owl hitting my window, holding a piece of parchment. The owl wasn't coming back.

She wasn't coming back. 

I missed her even if I knew she hated me, and I knew I was the reason.

The Order's silence was unnerving. 

No direct hits against us, no retaliations. 

Did they pin it all on her? 

I knew she was strong, resourceful, capable. 

But the guilt, would it eat her alive? 

Had she broken? 

I tried to ignore the fact that she would be alone, her loyalties always on the line. 

She probably hated me more than anything. 

And maybe, a part of me, the darkest part, deserved it. 

But it didn't make it hurt any less. The idea of her fury, her disgust, was a constant, festering wound.

I knew the path she was on now. It was the path that led to war. 

Did they take her down? 

Did they lock her up somewhere, for them to interrogate, use, or break? 

Did they break her? 

Did she break herself?

The thought was a venomous sting, a fresh wave of worry and doubt. 

I wondered if she was safe, if she would be safe. 

I wondered how deeply her hatred for me ran now. If that hatred had replaced any other feelings she had about me. 

I didn't hate what I did. Not even a little. 

In fact, I'd do it again. 

Over and over. Just to save her. 

Even if it meant never speaking to her again, never seeing her, never hearing her laugh, never feeling her touch. 

She was alive, and that was enough. It had to be.

The ache, the loneliness, was a small price to pay. 

I could bear it. I've gone my whole life like this. 

The constant, gnawing fear of her being in danger was something I lived with now, and it was better than the alternative. 

If she were dead... I couldn't bear it. Not for a second.

I knew it was selfish, this way of thinking. Selfish and destructive. 

It was the kind of selfishness that drove people to do terrible things, that started wars and destroyed families. 

But I couldn't help it. 

She mattered more than anything, more than my own sanity.

The idea of her gone,  was a void that swallowed everything else.