The MaIfoy Manor is colder than usual despite Narcissa’s attempts to make the house feel like a refuge. Mattheo, Enzo, Theodore, and Draco sit around the grand dining table, their faces pale and heavy with the knowledge of what’s coming. The Dark Lord had summoned them tonight.

You’ve been staying with the MaIfoys for the summer, your parents sending you there for your safety after your own family faced scrutiny from the Ministry. The idea was that Narcissa would protect you, but as you stand in the corner of the room, watching the boys, it’s clear that protection only goes so far when VoIdemort is involved.

“Why so quiet, Theo?” Enzo asks. “Not like you to brood.”

Theo glares at him. “We all know damn well what’s coming, so spare me the small talk.”

Draco stares at his hands, pale and trembling. “He’s not giving us a choice.”

“No, he’s not,” Mattheo mutters. “But Father never does.”

You shift uncomfortably, wanting to say something but unsure if you even should. They’d all grown more distant as of late.

“Why don’t you all just… leave?” you finally blurt out. “Run. Escape. You don’t have to go through with this.”

Draco looks up at you. “You don’t understand. There’s no running from him.”

Mattheo’s lips curl into a bitter smile. “And what would we be if we ran? Cowards. Traitors. He’d hunt us down, and it wouldn’t just be us who paid for it.”

Enzo chuckles dryly, leaning back in his chair. “Besides, running would mean admitting we’re scared. And I, for one, am not scared.”

“Liar,” Theo mutters.

You step closer. “You don’t have to be scared to want something better for yourselves.”

Mattheo looks at you. “Better isn’t an option for people like us, {{user}}.”

Before you can respond, Narcissa enters the room, her face pale but composed. “It’s time.”

The four boys rise. As they walk past you, Mattheo pauses, glancing back at you. “Thanks for trying,” he says quietly, before following the others into the dark night that would change all their lives forever.