FROM EDEN | Mattheo Riddle

viii. Minty Trouble

By the time they had arrived at Diagon Alley, Violet's voice was raw from screaming into Mattheo's ear. The latter threatening to push her off the broomstick if she didn't stop her whining.

They entered the pub, the bells chiming above as she welcomed the aroma of butterbeer and firewhisky. The inn was quite packed today, its customers engaged in jovial conversations while they empty the tankards of alcohol. She chose a spot far away from the crowd, not wanting to be seen with her companion. Who knows what they might think.

"What do you want?" Mattheo asked, removing his quidditch robe and neatly folding it over on one of the empty chairs. "Just Butterbeer," she grumbled, letting a sigh escape her lips when he was finally out of sight.

She let her eyes wander around the venue, a trio of familiar faces catching her attention. Shit, why are they everywhere? Was some higher being playing a cruel joke on her? Was this punishment for her ancestors' atrocities? She almost laughed at the irony of it, although Violet didn't believe in gods and goddesses; if they were indeed real, her prayers for death would have long been answered. Alas, here she was, alive, breathing, and in the company of Mattheo Riddle. Perhaps the Lestrange name was really cursed.

"Here," said Mattheo, handing over her order. She merely stared at the golden liquid, eyeing it cautiously. Could he have spiked this? She took out her wand, tapping it on the rim of the glass, the collision producing a small clink, nothing. "Merlin, just drink the fucking beer." Violet glowered at him, "I don't trust you."

"That much is obvious," he grunted, rolling his eyes at her insolence. "I didn't spike it, flower. Wouldn't want my fiancé dying on me before I could marry her."

"Stop calling me that," she finally took a huge swig of her drink, savouring the sweetness of it as it trickled down her throat like honey. "Which one, flower or fiancé?"

"Both."

"Would you prefer wife then?" He leaned back, watching her face contort at the word. "I prefer if you don't talk to me at all." She mimicked his action, defiance in her eyes.

A dry chuckle left his lips. Oh he was going to have fun with her, alright.

"Why did you even drag me here?" She continued, swiping the condensation that formed around the cold glass.

"Can't I get to know my future wife?"

"I'm being serious."

"I am, too."

Her shoulders fell at his response, the absurdity of their conversation irking her, this is going nowhere. Fine, if he does not want to cooperate, she'll just have to pry answers from him then. Legilimency.

Thank Merlin she was proficient at the skill. Dumbledore had urged her to practice the art of Legilimency and Occlumency, thinking it would be of great importance and help to master the two. She looked at the boy seated in front of her, his black locks were effortlessly coiffed to the side, the green quidditch uniform fitting his broad shoulders nicely.

A slight headache knocked at his temples, his lips tugging upwards into a Cheshire-like grin. He anticipated it. "My, my, what a naughty girl. Reading my mind now, aren't we?"

A mixture of surprise and disappointment flickered across her face, of course he'd know. She would just have to ask him and hope for a proper answer, "Why me? Why did you choose me as your betrothed? Why is there even a betrothal?"

"Well, why can't I? Who else could I have chosen? Those cursed Greengrass girls? That daft pug-faced friend of yours, Panty?"

"—Pansy," She corrected.

"I don't give a damn about her name. You're already the best out there," he leaned towards her, inches away from her face, "and I deserve nothing less, flower." She flushed at the proximity, his warm breath fanning her face. He smelled like cigar, oud, mint, trouble.

Mattheo observed the girl in front of him, an unreadable reaction swirling in the deep brown hues of her eyes. He didn't lie, she was the best out of the lot, although he didn't have much of a say either. But he certainly thought she was rather pretty; so, he didn't have any qualms when his father had informed him about the union. Most importantly, she would be an invaluable asset to them. He knew it wouldn't be easy gaining her trust, but he had to, he needs to. It was only a matter of time before he'd have her wrapped around his finger. He only needed to stick to their plan.

Little did he know, Violet has a plan of her own too.