Closed Little Meetings

Mathias Pride had been denied the name of his father for too long. He was the forgotten, exiled son due to the sins of his mother. He had done everything asked and more for the sake of his family. Now that Vladimir, the eldest brother laid in a bed of shame, Mathias would fill the hole left behind.

Gideon would find Matt standing in the fading light of the alcove, the window framing him like a portrait of control. The Slytherin Seer could often be found there, musing about his day in quiet contemplation. A book in hand, even if he had not read a single word between the covers, it left an image he wanted seen. As his younger brother spoke, Mathias took care to control his expression, his reaction to whatever he said. But beneath Pride's composed exterior, a storm churned. Gideon’s words lingered in the air, a taunting echo of sibling rivalry and calculated malice.

The taunt: his Winnie had gone to Gideon.

Mathias clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening against the window’s cool stone frame. His younger brother was insidious, a venomous whisper in the guise of innocence, and Mathias knew better than to dismiss his younger brother's antics as harmless. Gideon was a threat—one that wore a mask of sweetness but wielded his intelligence like a blade. He used others to fight his battles and he had likely found a new cudgel in Winnie Harper. Thankfully Mathias liked it when Winnie played rough.

Hurt me baby one more time.

It wasn’t the act of Winnie seeking Gideon out that unsettled Mathias. It was the fact that Gideon had chosen to tell him about the interaction that unsettled him. He would have to of course punish Winnie for her insolence. He wondered if Percival or Finnegan would need to have an unfortunate 'accident' in retaliation. He knew that Percival was a jawless bloke that had set her loins ablaze, he intensely wished to separate the Slytherin from his loins. There was also that buzzing gnat, Finnegan Conner. Finny-boy was not a risk in the least, he just wanted to hurt him.

Mathias needed to get his head back in the game, vengeance or recreation could wait until later. The Slytherin's mind reviewed what Gideon had revealed, the scarf, the carefully placed words, the deliberate sowing of doubt—it was all a move in the game the entire Athanatos family played, a reminder that Gideon wasn’t content to sit in the shadows forever. But Gideon did not really have a chance of climbing the metaphorical ladder in the same way Mathias had. While Giddy might have had the advantage of a name given in haste, a mistake. Gideon never grew into his power. He was barely better than a squib, never a Seer as the power skipped a generation. No, if anyone, he would need to worry about Aamon developing a spine.

Mathias allowed himself a quiet, mirthless chuckle, his reflection in the glass smiling back with equal coldness. He knew his ascension would have hurdles, he just did not expect them to be so... short. Gideon could try all he may, but he was not going to get far with those short little legs.

“You’re getting bold, little brother.”

Turning from the window, Mathias crossed the room slowly, his steps deliberate, measured. Gideon’s subtle threat wasn’t lost on him: questioning Winnie’s value, planting the idea of her as a liability. It was a dangerous play. Winnie wasn’t just some pawn in Mathias’s game—she was an anchor, tethering him to the image of respectability their family demanded. Giddy saw it, he was certain. The ploy was somewhat obvious.

And yet, Gideon was right in one regard. Winnie was fragile. She had cracks. Cracks that could spread. He knew this and he was prepared for, no he was encouraging this eventuality. It would of course break his heart if he had to send her away to St. Mungos, but her sacrifice would solidify his seat among wizarding elite. If that was Gideon's threat, he was barking up the wrong tree.

Mathias’s lips curved into a smile, sharp and humorless. He’d built his ascent carefully, brick by brick, ensuring his role as heir was undisputed. Winnie, the charming half-muggle sweetheart, was a piece of that architecture, chosen to reinforce the family’s evolving reputation. But if she was a weakness... He would have to reconsider his intended course of action.

The Seer's mind raced, evaluating scenarios, possibilities. He had the information advantage, being able to glean potential realities from the threads of fate. Gideon wanted him to act rashly, to doubt, to stumble. But Mathias had no intention of giving his brother the satisfaction of a rash reaction. No, the Slytherin would play this game carefully, meticulously, just as he always did.

Gideon thought he was clever, but Mathias had been in this game far longer. And if Gideon wanted to dance in the shadows, Mathias would remind him that shadows had their masters.

“Let him think he’s winning,” Mathias murmured to himself, his voice low and even, each word laced with a quiet menace. “Let him play his little games... and be crushed by them.”

He stood over Gideon, briefly questioning how they could possibly be related. Gideon was short even by conventional standards. Looking down at the boy, choosing the position as a position of intimidation, he lifted the length of the scarf Gideon had allegedly been given and brought the crocheted length to his face and breathed deeply of its scent. It was her, running the soft fabric through his fingers. This was quaint, almost laughably so, but also a symbol—Winnie’s desperation, Gideon’s manipulation, and the careful balance Mathias needed to maintain. He released his grip on the scarf carelessly.

Mathias turned back to the window, watching as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon.

“Little brother,” he said softly, his tone both mocking and foreboding, “if you want to turn my plaything against me, you’ll need more than riddles and smiles. I’ve sacrificed more than you know to be here.”

The sky darkened, the stars emerging one by one, distant and cold, like Pride's heart.

“And if you want to take my crown,” he added, his voice a whisper loud enough to be heard, “you’ll have to earn it in blood.”

Mathias’s expression softened back into his usual composed mask, but the storm in his eyes hadn’t quieted. Gideon thought he could unsettle him, but Mathias was already ten moves ahead.

And when the time came, he’d make sure Gideon remembered exactly why Mathias was the heir—and Giddy the Seer never wasn’t.

You're getting bold little brother.

Gideon did not miss Mathias' purposeful addition of the world 'little', perhaps a jab at his diminutive height that the Hufflepuff saw more as an advantage than his sibling did. Perhaps a reminder of their birth order, how he would always be second-pick by the virtue of his existence. Unprompted, Gideon continued, his tone innocent but his words carefully chosen. “She wanted advice, really. Something about how to navigate the family, how to survive in a world she doesn’t fully understand. I told her what I could, but... well, you know me.” He smiled, leaning back against the wall. “I’m not much for giving all the answers.”

Welcome to the game.

He had a plan and if he fed the girl right, she would be on a terrible path that would prove entertaining for the Athanatos if nothing else. Best case, the girl would escape his family and she would rip Mathias from the pecking order in the process. A clear path to the top for Giddy.

Mathias’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening, Gideon saw it all as the implications settled in. Gideon pressed on, his voice softer now, almost confiding.

“She’s a sweet girl, but fragile. I couldn’t help but notice how... lost she seemed. It must be difficult for her, trying to fit into a family like ours.” Gideon paused, then added with a touch of faux concern, “You’ve done a wonderful job keeping her steady, of course. But I wonder... is she really an asset to your aspirations, Mattie? Or is she becoming a liability?”

The silence that followed was delicious. Gideon could see the wheels turning in Mathias’s mind, the calculated consideration of whether Winnie was worth the trouble she inevitably brought. That was the problem with attachment, illogical decisions wreck opportunities.

Gideon stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his robes, his expression as sunny as ever. “Well, I thought you should know. I wouldn’t want there to be any misunderstandings. After all, family comes first, doesn’t it?”

He turned to leave but hesitated at the door, glancing back with a sly grin. “Oh, and Mathias? If you ever need help keeping things in order... you know where to find me.” An invitation the Hufflepuff knew Mathias would never accept, as dumb as the snake was, even he was not that stupid.

With that, Gideon disappeared into the corridor, leaving Mathias alone with his thoughts and the seeds of doubt Gideon had so carefully sown.

Mathias' younger brother Gideon honestly thought he could stand against his better and thrive? The arrogant fool. The hat had sorted Giddy into Hufflepuff because he lacked ambition, because he depended on others. The hat might call it teamwork, or friendship, but in truth it was reliance and weakness that defined that house. Gideon could never ascend on his own, and if he was carried to the pinnacle of achievement on Winnie's or another mule's back, he would not last for long. Gideon was nothing more than a troublesome hurdle to eventually overcome. Mathias' fingers curled into a fist at his side, nails pressing against his palm, the pain grounding him, though his face remained calm—a mask of indifference honed by years of practice. He was not going to give Gideon the satisfaction of a reaction.

Rather, Mathias waited for his younger brother to depart. When the sound of footsteps faded, the teen would start his monologue.

“Bold,” Mathias muttered under his breath, his voice low and laced with quiet venom. He turned back toward the window, the fading light now nothing more than a dark navy over a row of blackened pine. “You’re not just bold, little brother. You’re reckless,” the Seer told his reflection. Mathias' reflection seemed to look back at him, almost unrecognizable, like a grey specter. The reflection's hazel eyes seemed to burn with a dark intensity, they wanted the same thing. His features, angular, strange, even to him. His red hair, finger combed from his face and left slightly tousled. He ran his slender fingers through his mane once again. The only thing that seemed familiar was the Slytherin robes, the silver and green over black.

Ambition had made Pride into something alien to even him. But he liked what he saw, he saw potential. He could see himself as the head of his family. His power consolidated, his status finally recognized. He had always had the potential, the blood, the ability, the skill and the want. The world just chose to deny him what was rightfully his, so he would take it.

Mathias exhaled slowly, his breath fogging the glass, leaving the frosty grounds in a haze. Gideon’s theatrics were infuriating, yes, but they weren’t unexpected. The Hufflepuff had always been a strategist, weaving plots from the shadows, thriving on chaos whilst his hands remained clean. And yet, Gideon was blind to the real game—the one Mathias had been playing long before Gideon ever dared challenge him. It was a fool's errand to try. Gideon was a one-trick pony, depending on his perceived youth and incapacity to commit the crimes against humanity that the sociopath was certainly capable of.

He did wonder what the boy's plan was.

He let Winnie know about the poison because she had grown resistant. He could have increased the dose, eventually she would have succumbed but he did not. He had revealed his own awareness of Winnie's growing distrust, her revelations and he was pushing the envelope. He was leaving the girl with a choice: comply or be locked away. He could give her a satisfactory life if she was compliant.

All Giddy had done was... And then it hit him. "Bastard!" He snapped as the revelation lit up the synapses of his mind.

Leaning forward, Mathias rested his hand against the window frame, his gaze fixed on the distant, foggy horizon. Gideon was clever. There was no denying that. “You think you’re the spider at the center of the web, don’t you?” the Seer murmured, his tone soft but filled with quiet menace. “Pulling threads, laying traps, watching others fall while you scuttle away unscathed.” Winnie would fall in line with his plan, there was no doubt of that.

A faint smirk tugged at Mathias' lips, cold and humorless. He did not think of everything, not with Winnie at the very least. While their relationship was built on a foundation of lies, he knew the Ravenclaw better than she sometimes knew herself. Gideon was utterly unprepared.

“And here’s where you misstep, Gideon.” Mathias’s voice dropped, as though addressing his absent brother directly in his dark monologue. “Spiders don’t win against snakes. Not in the long run. You’ll skitter and spin, clever as you are, but eventually, you’ll stumble into a waiting maw that you didn’t see coming.” Giddy lacked the practice. He lacked the personal touch. He was always dependent on others. Eventually he would need to personally enter the game if he wanted to win.

Mathias straightened, brushing a hand down his robes with meticulous care. His mind was already moving three steps ahead, recalibrating, adapting to the seeds Gideon had planted. Winnie would need careful handling—gentle reassurances here, a tightened leash there. She wasn’t a liability, not yet, even if both Gideon and Winnie believed that they could be. She was just an unbroken dog, the true definition of bitch. But Gideon’s meddling had made Winnie a potential crack in the foundation Mathias had spent years building.

And that simply wouldn’t do.

“Welcome to the game,” Mathias said at last to his reflection. He turned from the window, his steps purposeful as he moved toward the door. “But remember, little brother. In my game, you don’t survive by being clever. You survive by being ruthless.”