𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 M.R.

𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

,,Choose your battles wisely, most of them are not worth fighting." - A

-

The night of the ball

Does a person know when they get a second chance at life? Or is it just a fifty/fifty chance where you try or give up? 

Maybe in the past, my answer would've sounded something along the lines of No, you don't know , you just have to guess.

But I knew I didn't have to guess, the answer was yes as soon as my eyes scanned  the green faded tiles or the new bottle of occamy egg yolk shampoo standing on my small shelf  I was gifted by Pansy for christmas with a small I use this shampoo everyday and it made  my hair so much healthier!  fancy letter.

I couldn't help myself, admiring how my old bathroom used to look like. A complete opposite from the mess I lived in for Merlin knows how long.

Then it hit me, I was back– I got my second chance.

Slowly, my hand gripped the door handle pulling down until the lock clicked and the door opened.

And there he was, sitting in the same position I remembered so vividly. A joint in between his lips and the thin covers around his naked torso,  his gaze locked on the brown old book.

The same way I remember it

,,Took you long enough." He smirked, his gaze directing towards me moments later. He was here, my Mattheo.

The boy I hated, loved , wanted and needed. He had the same tangled hair and the same lopsided smile but his eyes were different.  He looked almost confused.

Because he was confused. And it took me too long to realize why. I was crying,  warm tears spilling down my cheeks. Long enough for him to sit up, covers wrapped around him like a towel. His mouth was moving– that I could still figure out.

But what was he saying? Was he even talking or was he just silently watching?

He closed up the space between us, careful hands getting a hold of my wet  cheeks, thumbs stroking the tears away. He was here, mere inches away. My Mattheo.

The warmth of his hands on my skin brought a new fresh wave of tears, silently falling down. He was still talking, lips still moving. Was he calling me? My Mattheo.

The door was banging, heads snapping towards the wooden door. I remember, Draco was behind the door.

Waiting to tell me I'm being used. Doing what he believed was right.

There was no time left, I needed to stop. Why couldn't I stop? Mattheo was distancing himself, his hands slowly leaving my face. The remaining heat gone.

No he couldn't leave, I needed him. Please don't leave me. My hand snapped forward, grabbing a hold of  him again.

,,Don't leave me."

Brown brows furrowed ,,Why would I leave you?"

It's like finally hearing his voice , my senses came back together. The tears stopped , the view focused back and my mind cleared up.

,,Don't open the door." barely a whispered, but he heard me nonetheless. The banging eventually stopped and there was only silence.

I tried to speak, tell him what's wrong but no words came out, no idea how I'd start.  So I did what I thought would make up for my silent words.

The shiny little metal turned in my hand. He stepped forward, his face a unreadable expression.

,,Why are you holding a time turner?" A question I knew was going to come up one way or another. Everything was not according to plan. If there would've been one.