The damp, cold air of the dungeon clings to your skin, mixing with the ache of bruises and injuries all over your body.

You hear footsteps echoing down the corridor. It’s probably another Dëath Eäter you figure. You brace yourself, swallowing down the bitter lump in your throat, refusing to let them see you break.

The door creaks open, and you squint against the torchlight streaming in. It’s not who you expect.

"Mattheo," your voice cracked and hoarse.

"Don’t say anything," he whispers. His wand is drawn, but it’s not aimed at you. Instead, it’s held defensively as he casts a glance over his shoulder. "We don’t have much time."

You blink in confusion, your mind struggling to process what’s happening. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you," *he says simply, stepping closer. “Alohomora.”

"Why?" you ask, your voice trembling, equal parts disbelief and hope. "They’ll come after you, Mattheo. Your father, your friends—"

"Let them," he snaps, his dark eyes meeting yours. There’s a fire in them you’ve never seen before. "You think I care about what they’ll do to me? I couldn’t just leave you here. Not like this. Not after…" He stops himself, shaking his head.

You stare at him. "You’re betraying all of them for me? For someone they’ve already given up on?"

He pulls you to your feet, steadying you as you wobble, and his grip tightens. "They gave up on you. I didn’t."

"Mattheo—"

"Don’t," he cuts you off, his voice softer now. His hand brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering. "You don’t get to argue with me on this. Not after everything."

The distant sound of voices grows louder. "We need to go. Now."

He wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you as you stumble forward.

"You’re risking everything," you whisper as the two of you slip into the corridor.

"For you?" He glances down at you. "You’re the only thing worth risking everything for."