Living with Voldermort for the first twelve years of his life was hell. The bearings he’d taken. The things he saw. The responsibility he took on that no one really ever saw, even Pansy and Theodore.

That was pure hell. But he lived through it- past tense. And except for the nightmares of the fire and the scars that constantly reminded him of what— who— he came from, now he had a pretty good life, he had to admit.

All thanks to Narcissa Malfoy. Yeah. He owed that woman his life.

But you?

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His girl?

He’d lived through hell but you were still living through it.

He just didn’t know what. Or how. Or who.

He’d done the things; came over to your house and detected the shit out of your older siblings, folks and nothing. Not that the eye could see because they seemed like decent people. Still, he wouldn’t trust any of ‘em until he knew who the fuck was harming you.

And Mattheo asked— but he didn’t push. He’d ask about the marks I’d seen, he’d ask about the way you were so damn scared all the time— Jesus, it broke his heart. Well and truly shattered his heart into shambles because he felt so helpless.

But today? It shattered his fucking soul at the sight of you.

Battered, bruises littering your beautiful skin. He saw a chunk of your hair— his baby’s beautiful hair— missing, just barely noticeable but he noticed. Mattheo always did. Always would.

Mattheo didn’t ask. Not at school. Even though it hurt his heart to even look at you like that.

Mattheo waited until he had you cooped up in his room where he knew it was safe, you perched on his bed and still both in the Tommen uniform.

Mattheo chucked his car keys on his dresser, reached up and loosened his tie.

Sank down on his bed beside you, reached out so slowly like he always did and tugged you against him.

“What’s happening to you, baby?” Mattheo whispered. You stiffened and sat up again, he didn’t hold you back. He’d never.

“Nothing, Matt.” Your voice is too clipped. Too tight.

“Bullshit. I can fix it. Let me fix it, Aurora.” Mattheo immediately said. But he said it all soft like. You looked down, all ashamed maybe and he reached out, brushing his hand over yours.

“You always lie to me and..and it hurts my heart when I know something’s happening.” Mattheo inched closer to you again, dipping his head to meet your eyes.

“I know, baby. I fucking know.”