The Snake Pit || Mattheo Riddle

Chapter 20: Veritaserum

Mattheo sauntered back to his seat, and slumped down into the chair beside Octavia. His legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankle and his chin perched into his hand as he leaned into the seat, casually. Octavia's tears had stopped. She stared down at her hands, tearing at the soft tissue. Her hands still shook and her heart still hammered despite the source of her anxiety being thousands of miles away by then. The residual anxiety wouldn't go away for a long while, she knew that from experience.

She was utterly alone now. Octavia didn't know how her Grandmother would know if she continued to be friends with the Slytherin's, but she knew that she would. Enlisting teachers or students to feed her information seemed the most likely but there wasn't any way of knowing. Octavia wouldn't be able to talk to any of the Slytherin's and any other house in the school steered clear of her just by the colours she wore. Besides Evan, she supposed, but she was yet to see him after the attack the night before. Her stomach curdled. The one glimpse of hope withering away.

She'd only just started to feel apart of her Slytherin group. Not so easily embarrassed and happy to jump in to joke around with her new friends. Her chest ached. What was she going to say to Daphne? Her best friend for over a decade, what do you say? Daphne would not take it well, that was clear. And Pansy? Octavia had grown so fond of her sharp-tongued friend.

The Headmistresses office doors banged open and Octavia jolted out of her miserable thoughts. Two men dressed in billowing brown trench coats stalked into the room. Aurors. One man was squat, Octavia would match him at eye level, and bleary eyed like he'd left the house without his glasses. While the other was a large man, hulking and grey eyed.

'Mr Robards, Mr Dawlish, welcome,' the Headmistress drew herself up to her full height, fingertips pressing into the hard grained desk. Octavia dragged her eyes away from the men, with the sound of McGonagall's voice. Goosebumps rose on her arms.

'Headmistress,' the smaller man shook the older witch's hand, a grim frown cutting into his ruddy features. The other man stepped up to do the same, both paying no mind to the two teenagers watching their every move. Until the taller of the two turned, eyes zeroing in on Mattheo. Something strange fled through his foggy eyes. He knew who Mattheo was. Or more importantly, who his parents were.

But of course, he would, Mattheo was on probation, the whole Ministry probably knew about the boy. The secrets the British magical government kept made her feel uneasy. Octavia's eyes flickered over to the dark-haired boy against her will. He levelled the Auror with a flat look, chin tilted down like he was about to fall asleep but eyes deadly, staring him down. His dark curls fell carefully over his brow. Something in Octavia shivered. Was it fear? Was she afraid of him when he turned cruel eyed and dangerous? Maybe.

'You're He Who Must Not Be Named's kid?' Dawlish grumbled down at Mattheo.

'Dawlish you are an Auror, I thought you intelligent enough to call Voldemort by his name now that he is dead,' McGonagall's voice was severe, no nonsense. Octavia resisted wincing at the name, she knew better than that, but it was a tough habit to crack. Dawlish didn't handle it as well. He flushed pink and cringed, but he didn't speak.

Beside her, Octavia heard a sharp exhale of air and she peeked at her fellow Slytherin to see him smirking. His head tilted to give her the full force of the grin. Her heart stuttered and she found herself trying to suppress a smile, lips pressed together in amusement. Then he turned back to the Auror.

Something trickled down her spine. Octavia shifted away from him. A shiver of remembrance. She was not allowed to be friends with this boy. Why did she keep calling him a boy? He really wasn't. It was how he held himself. He was a man. There was no doubt about it.