Where the Flowers Used to Grow [Mattheo Riddle]

Chapter 15

(TW: descriptions of sexual harassment & assault)

June 2003

"I did tell you this at the time, remember? That's why I went and lived with Tonks and Lupin for the rest of Summer. I didn't want to burden the poor Weasley's after that incident, of course, but the order were concerned that a suspected deatheater knew where I lived, especially considering I lived alone. That's why you said you couldn't let me join your hocrux hunt in case he was tracking me." Harry nodded, opening his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by one of the suited men.

"You haven't explained what happened to your parents." He stated matter-of-factly. Florence turned to look at him, too tired to show her irritation. "I only mean, you often reference them as alive, but they're never there. Were they interested in dark-"

"No." Florence released a slight breathy laugh. "They were hippies, transients." Florence looked back to Harry in front of her. "They're good people, but they just couldn't stay in the same place. 'Too much to discover' is what they'd say." Florence nodded to herself. "They're good people, but they just should've never been parents."

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November 1997

Florence spent all of her free time in her hidden library. Hogwarts was an embodiment of what she imagined hell to be like. The houses were forced to share cramped rooms as Slytherin's were placed into all roles of power. Her friends hadn't returned, and she was both viewed as the traitorous friend of Harry Potter or the traitorous girl who was Harry's friend and slept with Mattheo Lestrange. Mattheo hadn't returned to school for their seventh year, only further proving to her his involvement with Voldemort. There was a palpable tension, an almost physical feeling of possible threat. Students held their breath, slowly preparing for a war as if they were soldiers. Snape as headmaster was both terrifying and ridiculous, the school fell into a dictatorship. The atmosphere made Florence more cautious about her stock, and she began hiding her collection of plants in the secret library, using the shelves to hang and dry everything she could before they'd begin to rot. Students, specifically Gryffindors, would turn up with suspicious injuries from being cursed. Under Voldemort's direction, teachers taught students to hate muggles, to see them as lesser. Florence's least favourite was Amycus Carrow, the new professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. His twin brother was generally worse than him, but Amycus had taken specific interest in her, shouting and cursing at her whenever she got a spell wrong. She even found herself wishing Mattheo was there to help her, despite all the misery he'd brought into her life.

After one class Carrow told her to stay behind, only ensuring more judgemental looks from angry Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

"You're not improving." The tall man leaned next to her against her desk.

"I'm sorry professor, I-"

"I don't care." Carrow grinned, the lines on his face creasing as he stared down at her. She looked at his large hands as they gripped the desk, noting the number of scars. "I hear you're good with potions and herbology, the best natural talent Snape says." Florence looked up nervously.

"I'm alright-"

"You'll start working for me." He grinned as he bowed his head closer to hers. "I want my own collection of truth serums and..." His eyes began to trail down over her seated body. "Well, I want access to everything you can provide." Florence immediately stood up, trying to back away from the man,

"I'm sorry Professor, but I'm not going to make anything that'll be used to harm other students-" He stalked towards her, his pointed features making him look ghostly and dangerous.