Always and forever- Matteo Riddle

Weapon

I barely noticed where I was going until I found myself outside, the cool night air hitting my face. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but it didn't help. My hands were shaking, my mind racing.

I wasn't ready for this. I didn't even know if I wanted to be ready.

I pulled out a cigarette with trembling fingers, lighting it quickly and taking a deep drag, hoping it would calm me down. The smoke filled my lungs, but it didn't do much to quiet the storm inside me.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear footsteps approaching.

I tensed when I heard the soft crunch of footsteps behind me. My instincts kicked in, and I exhaled a slow breath of smoke before turning my head slightly.

"Thought I'd find you here."

Mattheo.

His voice was steady, but there was something beneath it—hesitation, maybe regret. I didn't turn to face him. I just took another drag and stared out into the darkness.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice flat.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, I heard the rustle of fabric as he moved to sit on the stone ledge beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance at my cigarette but say nothing about it.

"I heard you storm out of Dumbledore's office," he finally said. "Figured you'd want to talk."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Talk? That's funny, considering the last time we spoke, we were screaming at each other."

Mattheo sighed, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah... I know."

Silence stretched between us. I flicked the ash off my cigarette, my fingers still slightly shaking. He must have noticed because he spoke again, quieter this time.

"They want you to train, don't they?"

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Yeah," I muttered. "They think I'm some sort of... weapon. A tool to win their war." I shook my head. "It's all I am to them."

Mattheo didn't argue. He didn't try to tell me I was wrong. And maybe that's why I didn't push him away.

Instead, he just said, "That's not all you are."

I finally turned to look at him, searching his face for any sign of a lie. His brown eyes held nothing but honesty.

I wanted to believe him. But I wasn't sure if I could.

I looked away, taking another slow drag before flicking the cigarette onto the stone floor and stomping it out with the heel of my boot.

"They think I need to start taking care of myself better too," I muttered, a humorless chuckle escaping me. "Like that's so easy."

Mattheo sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "They're not wrong," he admitted. "You don't eat. You barely sleep. And you—" He gestured at the cigarette.

I shot him a glare. "Don't start."

He held up his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying. You've been through hell, and you're still standing, but if you keep going like this..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

I scoffed. "What, I'll break? Already have."

"No," he said firmly, turning to look at me. "You haven't."

I swallowed, gripping the ledge beside me.

He was wrong. I was broken.

But instead of arguing, I let out a breath and whispered, "I don't know how to fix any of it, Mattheo."

He didn't say anything for a moment. Then, softly, "You don't have to fix it alone."

His words settled something deep inside me.

I looked over at him again, and this time, I didn't turn away.

"I wish none of this had ever happened," I whispered, my voice barely carrying over the quiet hum of the night. "I wish I was never kidnapped. Never told about the wizarding world. Maybe then I could've been normal."

Mattheo exhaled sharply, running a hand through his curls. "You don't mean that."

I turned to face him fully, my expression hard. "Yes, I do. If none of this happened, I wouldn't have these nightmares. I wouldn't be scared of water. I wouldn't—" My voice cracked, and I clenched my fists. "I wouldn't feel like I'm barely holding myself together."

His jaw tightened. "I get it," he said quietly. "I do."

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "No, you don't."

"I do," he insisted, his gaze dark with something unreadable. "I know what it's like to wish things were different. To wish you were different. But this—this is who you are now."

I swallowed, looking away.

"I just want to be normal," I muttered.

Mattheo sighed, shifting closer. "Maybe normal's overrated."

I let out a breath, my shoulders slumping. "I just... I don't know how to live like this."

He was quiet for a moment before finally saying, "Then let me help you figure it out."

I didn't respond, but for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel entirely alone.