Mattheo hated his mother.

Bellatrix Lestrange was a criminally insane witch with intensely sadistic and brutally violent tendencies - Of that was how Mattheo would describe her, anyway. No one worshipped his father like his mother did, though it never seemed to be a worship of love, more one of obsession for his power. He grew up playing his mother's sick games, her hitting him with any new spell of hex she learnt over the years. It was how he had gained so many scars on his body, in fact. So yes, Mattheo had a right to hate his mother.

You hated her too. Maybe even more then Mattheo did, because you were disgusted beyond belief on how Bellatrix had raised her own son. Especially when her son just happened to be your boyfriend. So, being the understanding girlfriend you were, you invited Mattheo to stay with you and your family for the summer break.

The only problem was, in fact, that your family had a legacy of being half-blooded gryffindors, whilst Mattheo was a pureblood slytherin. Mattheo and your father had clashed instantly, the arguing was endless, and it hadn't stopped until last night. Last night, when Mattheo decided he would rather be used as a ragdoll from her mother then be around your father. It had hurt you a lot, of course, that the two most important people in your life hated eachother.

"Wait- just- Wait, Mattheo, Please." You had called out from the bed. It was four in the morning, and you had woken up to the sound of Mattheo packing all his stuff so he could leave for Riddle Manor.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart. It's early." He simply muttered as he stuffed clothes into his backpack, running a hand through his bed-tousled hair. "it's better for all of us the sooner I leave. M'kay?" He stood up, making his way over to you and pulling the covers up to your shoulders.

"I'll send you an owl when I get home, yeah? We'll still be in touch, y'know. We can still meet up." He gave a forced attempt at one his playful grins whilst gingerly running his thumb over your cheek.