Before we begin, I need to do a big shout-out to the following amazing people, emmapotter, Dark_One, legendpendragon, Jolly, JaneTwilight, Broomsticks, SaladOrCellerDoor and angeless7fallenstartsong for helping me out :)
A tall form strolled up to the front door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as the wind blew around him, the start of a cold rainfall beginning to flatten his long strands of black hair that fall around his dark eyes.
Unwillingly, he lifted out his warm hand into the chilly night and gave his wrist a quick flick, forcing the front door of the mansion to swing open.
He stepped into the hall, the door snapping close behind him, stopping the chilly wind to follow him into the house. That was when he spotted his belongings bundled up over at the side, and he made a straight line towards them.
He lifted off the lid of a round carrier case that sat on top of the finest leather suitcases, and watched the eight-foot Rainbow Constrictor as he dropped skillfully to the ground and slithered silently up the stairs, no doubt heading for the boys' bedroom.
He paused for a second, listening, the house was dead-silent, only for the mumble of someone speaking coming from the sitting room.
Unzipping his hoodie, he walked towards the grand living room and pushed the door open to reveal a woman standing in front of the fireplace, his appearance stopping her in her speech as her cold eyes flashed towards him.
Her audience, a blonde haired boy looked around from his armchair, a sly grin sliding across his face at the sight of him.
“He wants to speak with you,” the woman snapped, putting anger into her words, but the boy could see right through her pathetic facade.
With a tiny nod he backed out of the room, closing the door with a small click behind him, before heading further down the hall. He stopped outside his father's study and knocked gently on the wood. Facing the door, he listened to his breathing, readying himself, but after a few seconds he knew nobody was going to answer. Slightly confused, as that was the room his father would be normally found in, he stepped back and with his nerves now becoming more strained, he continued slowly down the dark hall, towards the kitchen at the end.
He had barely gotten his foot into the room when the spell hit him, forcing his body to stiffen, his feet losing balance and unable to do anything, he felt himself fall backwards, a thump echoed as his back hit the cold marble floor of the kitchen, a grunt escaping his throat. Gritting his teeth, he watched as the two men came into view.
Two of them....His coward of a father couldn't take him on himself.
He knew it was coming, he would have willingly walked into it by himself, he didn't need to be forced and to do it behind his back was just pitiful. Match couldn't blame them, his rebellion fights usually turned vicious.
As the two men spoke quickly, Match mentally started to tear away the spell that had him bound to the ground, but he was a second too late, as his wand flew from his waistband, just as he prized his hand from the floor and snatched for it, but it was gone, zooming towards the outstretched hand of Lucius' friend.
“Matchitehew, move it!” Lucius barked, the angry veins in his temple visible through his blonde hair.
Match knew better than to answer back, he wanted to get away with as little damage to himself as he possibly could. He knew, he could twist the two of them into pathetic whimpering morons, but he wanted to have some peace over the summer, and right now peace was a better award than satisfaction.
Obediently, Match scrambled to his feet and eyeing the two wands they were pointed steadily at his chest, he turned his back to them, opened the back door and stepped out into the back garden, the nearly gone sun casting a dark orange over all the pristine flowers and shrubs, as the gentle rain still continued to fall.
He walked along the house, to the cobbled path at the side, knowing full well where they were heading. His father and friend who stalked behind him; keeping him at arms-length. Match watch with the ever sinking feeling in his stomach as they got ever closer to the building, none of them speaking a word to one another, shabby wooden shed at the side.
Match stood back a few steps from the door of the wooden shed, that was expertly hidden by overgrown hedges and trees, and concentrated on his breathing, readying himself for the brutal punishment he was going to get inside, and watched as Lucius stepped around him and with a flick of his wand, the door popped open with a click. Lucius checked their surroundings, before without warning, he twirled around and roughly grabbed Match by the collar, before he could protest and pulled him inside. Match losing his footing at the door and stumbled inside.
Twirling around, at the racket of feet, Lucius snapped the door shut behind the three of them and the darkness engulfed them. Match's heart instantly began to race.
As Match tried to clam himself down and Lucius' mate tried to get use to the sudden darkness, Lucius could be heard sealing the door with a locking charm, there was no escape for Match now. Turning his attention away from his father, and with his eyes barely able to make out the inside of the building through the darkness, Match looked over to the corner, already forcing his mind away from the situation at hand...
As he groggily opened his eyes the following morning, Match found that he was still inside the shed. He was lying on his front on a musty-smelling, padding-less cot so that the steel springs dug painfully into his skin, the smell of damp and earth filled his nose as he laid inches away from the wood of the shed.
Groaning in pain, he carefully rolled himself over onto his side and picked himself up from the mattress, feeling the gashes in his back begin to bleed out with his movements.
He'd run to the nearest bathroom, his hands covered in blood. People had gasped at him in horror, as he dodged around them and made it to one of the sinks. But he hadn't been fast enough, Igor Karkaroff was behind him before he could even attempt to get the blood off; Matchitehew had been caught.
Agonisingly, he stood up on his two feet, his right hand resting on the shed for support, and picked up his shirt and jumper, and with a few timid footsteps, he pushed the ajar door of the shed wider and stepped out into the barkgarden, squinting his eyes against he brightness of the morning sun, and with his head bent low, he limped back to the house.
A hiss echoed, startling Match to snap his head up and he watched his mother's cat darted out from underneath a rose bush, Match cursed it to oblivion, watching it's tail disappeared through a low window.
He wasn't going to stalk straight into the kitchen, as he knew they would be sitting there having breakfast, so he walked around the side of the house, to the side-door that opened up into a mainly unused corridor that was adjoined to the main hall.
Quietly, he walked up the stairs and down to the corridor, to the room at the very end. He opened the door, to find that his mother wasn't down in the kitchen, but was sitting on the dark ground of his bedroom, tearing up pieces of cloth.
“Mother?” he asked, startling the woman to look over at him.
“Matthew,” and she let go off her breath in a sigh of relief, and tapped the dark mahogany four-poster bed with her hand, “lie down,” she whispered, with a faint sign of a smile, getting herself up off the floor.
Confused at her sudden change of heart towards him, Match walked over to the bed and sank chest-down across the mattress, as she walked around and sat down beside him with a dish and a cloth in her hands.
Without a single word, she dipped a piece of the material into the clear substance in the dish and placed it onto his back. Match grimaced as the potion she was using sizzled and a cloud of steam drifted up from his skin.
“He's just worried, Matthew, that's all,” she mumbled, placing another piece onto his back, and Match turned to her, she was looking down at him her light eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
As she dipped the third piece into the bowl, and lifted it back out, that was when he saw it, the reminder of the night he had had a massive temper, and Narcissa had tried to calm him down- A nasty, disfigured burn mark wrapped around her wrist, Narcissa froze as she noticed what he was looking at and quickly pulled her sleeve back down to cover it.
They locked eyes, Match knew he wasn't allowed to say sorry, so just hoped she got his message, and after a few seconds, Narcissa smiled, as she leaned down and kissed him gently on the cheek.
“I love you,” she whispered the three words that were never spoken, only if needed, and for a second Match felt awkward and contaminated by them.
But as they sunk in, and with his and his father's relationship in ruins, they were all Match needed