The miniature galaxy Violet had conjured over her head had done nothing to lure her into a deep slumber. She watched as each celestial body circled the other, leaving luminescent streaks against the white background of her dorm's ceiling. Insomnia was her biggest foe at night.
Minutes turned into hours as she gazed at her creation, her thoughts drifting from the empyreal cosmos to that of Mattheo's onyx eyes. Does he know about the betrothal? Was this Lord Voldemort's doing?
There was only one way to find out and that was to confront her soon-to-be husband. She grimaced at the thought.
And so, with barely any sleep, Violet was slumped on the Slytherin table at lunch. The clattering of silverware ringing in her ears.
"What's the matter?" Daphne Greengrass asked, patting Violet's disheveled hair in a motherly fashion.
She bit her cheek, unsure if it was safe to divulge the information. "Nothing, just a bad night's sleep."
"Again? I can ask Madam Pomfrey for a sleeping draught." She offered, a small smile on her pretty face.
"Thank you, Daphne. But that wouldn't be necessary." Violet replied drowsily, but the sight of black curls leaving the venue was enough to bring alertness back to her system. "Er, on second thought, I'm going to the infirmary now." She gathered her belongings quickly and waved goodbye to her friends, leaving them confused at her sudden departure.
She followed the boy and as he heard footsteps tailing him, he turned. Eyebrows raising as he looked at her, waiting for what she was about to say.
Violet blanked, unsure of how to approach the topic plaguing her mind.
"Are you just going to stand there or do you have something to tell me, Lestrange?" He hissed, a curl of hair falling over his forehead.
"Do you know about the betrothal? I received an owl from my parents the other night." She spluttered, her palms sweating at her nervousness.
He merely scoffed, "Of course I do. Is that all?"
"But why? Did Vold—did your father suggest the proposal?" His jaw clenched at the term, the annoyance in his eyes turning into something unreadable.
"No, I did."
"Because?" She pressed on, her voice harsher this time.
"Because I wanted you."
Violet blanched at his confession. She didn't understand. What was he playing at?
"Now, if you would excuse me." Mattheo said, turning to leave her.
"And what if I don't want to?" She said indignantly, arms folding in front of her chest.
He took a step towards her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You don't really have a choice, flower." The serpentine baritone of his voice causing goosebumps to rise along her arms.
And with nothing else, he left her. The unfairness of the betrothal sitting heavy in her stomach. She always knew that she'd marry a man she doesn't love. The privilege of being a pure-blood comes with that price. But her foolish self had thought she'd eventually learn to love her husband; but now, even that inkling of hope had vanished.
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That is the fifth chapter of this story! Please do comment or vote so I'd know if you guys are still interested :( Feedback would be greatly appreciated xx
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FROM EDEN | Mattheo Riddle
Fanfiction"There's something tragic about you, something so magic about you. Don't you agree?" Violet Lestrange was nothing but a mere pawn in the game of marriage within pure-blood families. Her intellect and magical prowess reduced to a dam with a pedigree...
