Chapter 53 ~ Marigolds

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Mature content

A/N: Even writing this I was blushing, good luck y'all. Also sorry for the wait, hope you all are well xx

I tried not to wince as the feel of wards and dark magic washed over me. 

Mattheo still clasped my hand tightly next to me as if to ensure I wouldn't run away. In front of us stood a manor, large and dark and shadowed by grey unmoving clouds. 

The iron gates swung open soundlessly to Mattheo, inviting us in. The dark haired boy glanced at me, a conflicted look on his features.

"I have other safe houses. We can take you to one of those if... if you don't like it here." He stared up at the mansion, not looking at me.

"Have you always lived here?" I asked quietly. He nodded. "Here is fine then. I want to see where you grew up."

He frowned in confusion but slowly the expression turned to warmth and he stepped forward, taking me through the gates with him. I turned to check where Draco was, stopping when I noticed he remained outside the gates.

"Draco? You coming?" 

He shook his head. "I'm gonna let you get settled in. I'll come visit in a couple of days though."

With that he moved to touch a stone Marigold that sat on a ledge of the stone wall and disappeared. 

"That Marigold is a portkey that goes directly to Malfoy Manor. If there's ever any trouble, I want you to go there, okay?" Mattheo explained. I took one last look at the flower, noting a twisting feeling in my gut, before walking towards the dark house with Mattheo.

I drummed my thumb against Mattheo's hand anxiously, deja vu washing over me. Nothing moved, not even a breath of wind could be felt on my skin. It was unsettling.

The gardens were beautiful but they lacked the feeling of nature, of joy and sunny days. Coming into the summer months, they should be flourishing, but instead each plant sat stone-like, trapped forever in a drab state.

Mattheo pulled open the left of the oak double doors, peering inside before opening it all the way for me. "Wormtail usually stands guard- not that he makes a very good one- but I've sent him away for the week," he explained in a hushed tone. I wasn't sure why he was being quiet in his own house but I followed him through.

The foyer was basic, nothing too cynical about it. The manor was huge, built to hold a small army, but was deathly quiet. 

"Does anyone else stay here?" I questioned.

"No, not at the moment. My... father stays here, but he has other business at the moment." Mattheo's gaze dropped to his feet before he rolled his shoulders. "Right. Come on, I'll show you to your room."

We turned a corner to a staircase and climbed. It seemed I would be on the second floor. The hallways were lined with all sorts of landscapes and paintings of inanimate objects, but there seemed to be very little portraits. 

"Here..."

We stopped in front of a brown door, identical to all the others. I twisted the door handle, feeling the heavy layers of wards that covered the door give way to my touch.

The room itself was plain but the feeling of safety that it brought was intoxicating. My bags floated in behind us, placing themselves at the foot of the queen sized bed against the right wall. 

A bookcase sat on the left wall and next to it was a desk with paper, quills and trinkets. A door in the left hand corner lead to a bathroom which contained a large clawfoot bathtub.

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