Blame
Professor McGonagall escorts them inside, telling them to settle down around Dumbledore’s desk. Enzo sits down in the chair next to Harry, while Mattheo and Blaise find a spot by the wall on their right. Theo and Draco stand side by side behind Enzo.
“What’s going on?” Draco asks, looking from Dumbledore to Harry with confusion written all over his face.
Dumbledore looks at Harry. “Are you certain?”
Mattheo feels as though there’s a large pit in his stomach, and he feels his blood run cold when Dumbledore speaks those words. This means that they’ve been caught, and it seems there is nothing left to do.
“Yes sir,” Harry says in that annoying voice of his, “I overheard them speaking about their plans to let out the Nifflers the other morning at breakfast.”
Lorenzo’s head lowers, and he intertwines his fingers with each other to keep them still. “It is settled then.” Dumbledore says slowly, his gaze falling upon Mattheo. “You may leave now, Harry.”
Harry stands up and exits the room, allowing Draco to take his chair. “You cannot be serious?” He scoffs, “Potter has a personal vendetta against us, you cannot claim him to be a reliable source.”
Dumbledore inhales slowly. “I believe Professor McGonagall and I have made it very clear to you that there are rules which must not be broken,” Dumbledore completely ignores what Draco just said, “and now you must suffer the consequences.”
Mattheo sighs in utter disbelief, looking away from Dumbledore and Draco who looks like he’s about to explode. His eyes land on Enzo, who’s still looking down into his lap. His hands are shaking profusely and his knee is bobbing up and down anxiously.
Mattheo feels bad for him, even though he has no reason to. These boys have done nothing but make his Hogwarts experience living hell, yet here he is, feeling pity for one of them. He then realizes that the only one out of all of them, who’s even tried to give him a chance has been Lorenzo, and suddenly the pit in his stomach grows.
Enzo was the one who tried to talk to him on the first night, Enzo was the one who did talk to him when they had detention and Enzo was the one who invited him to do the prank. If he had to feel bad for anyone in this room, it would be Enzo. Yet he still cannot believe himself when he opens his mouth to speak the following words. “It was my idea Professor,” Mattheo completely interrupts Draco’s rant to Dumbledore, “I was so desperate to finally make some friends and I thought the only way to do so was to do what I do best.”
“-Destroy things.”
There's silence. All eyes are on him, but Mattheo won’t take his eyes off Dumbledore. “Malfoy, Nott, Zabini and Berkshire, you may leave,” he says, “return to your dorm and wait for any news on the subject.”
None of them says anything as they leave the room. Mcgonagall follows them out, leaving Mattheo alone with the headmaster. Mattheo takes a seat, inhaling slowly to calm himself down. “Please don’t send me away,” he says quietly, “I am aware that I messed up. Just give me one last chance.”
Dumbledore stands up, turning his back to Mattheo. Mattheo closes his eyes, trying to get ready for the punishment he is about to have. “I will not be sending you home,” Dumbledore turns around to face Mattheo, “I know you took the blame and I believe that to be a lesson in itself.”
Mattheo is shocked to say the least. “I don’t understand?”
“When you got here,” he begins, “I found it difficult to believe that someone of your bloodline could even feel emotions such as remorse. But you have proven yourself otherwise, therefore I am letting you stay.”
“Why you feel remorseful will be a riddle to me, but I am hoping that you from now on will consider your actions more carefully,” Dumbledore sits down yet again.
“Thank you,” Mattheo replies in an exhale.
Back in the dorm the remaining Slytherins are practically losing their minds. “I don’t understand?” Theo runs a hand through his hair, sitting down on his bed once they closed the door behind them.
“Me neither,” Draco says out into the room as he stares ahead, sitting on his bed.
“Do you think he wants something from us?” Blaise asks, looking out of the window. Lorenzo flops down onto his bed. He doesn’t say anything, he just rolls onto his side to face the wall. He raises his hands to look at them. They’re still shaking.
“Do you think we’re getting in trouble?” Blaise then asks when no one really responds to what he said before. “What are they going to do? Give us more detention?” Draco scoffs.
"Expel us?” Theo says slowly, as if it only just hit him now that he’s got a lot at stake.
Enzo closes his eyes. Getting expelled is the absolute last thing he wants. “My father would kill me,” Draco replies, “he would cut my head off if he had to.”
“We’re aware that your father is a terrible man,” Blaise says, walking away from the window to sit down on his bed.
Draco scrunches his nose at the comment. “I did not say that.”
“No. I did.” Blaise throws a pillow at him.
Suddenly the sound of footsteps appear out in the hallway, and the boys immediately gather themselves. The door handle moves and Mattheo walks in. Theo gets out of his bed immediately, walking up to Mattheo. “So?”
Mattheo sighs loudly. “You’re not in trouble.”
Enzo gets out of his bed now too. “And you?”
Mattheo shakes his head. “Nothing.”
There’s a long silence. Blaise turns to look out of the window again. Enzo fiddles with his hands and Draco tries not to say something stupid. “Do you lads want to do something?” Blaise asks suddenly, “maybe it’s time we show Mattheo the Quidditch pitch?”
Draco looks at Theo and Enzo who doesn’t know what to say. Enzo turns to look at Mattheo, whose eyebrows are raised in shock. “Okay,” Enzo replies, “if Mattheo wants to?” Mattheo looks from Blaise to Enzo in confusion. He knows that this is some sort of act to be nice because of what he just did to them, but the more he thinks about it, the nicer it sounds to finally just hang out with someone. As friends. Not because they’re scared that they’re going to rat them out, but because they want to give him something in return for what he did.
“Uh sure,” he responds, looking at Theo for confirmation. Over the course of the last few days, Mattheo has noticed how all of the boys seem to respond to Theo. Not necessarily because he’s in charge, but the real reason is yet unknown to him.
“Let’s go then.” Theo grabs his robe from his bed, waving at Draco to get up.
The rest of the day is spent teaching Mattheo how to ride a broom and the rules of Quidditch and at last they practice how to shoot the Quaffle into the baskets. They stay out until nightfall, completely missing dinner, but none of them really cared. “I mean we’ve snuck into the kitchens before?” Blaise bumps his shoulder into Draco with a laugh, “we can do it again.”