No one had really spoken since Mattheo returned. There had been glances, nods and even a few murmured congratulations from the more foolish ones earlier in the day, but nothing genuine. It was not until Theodore finally leaned forward, elbows on his knees and eyes flicking to Mattheo’s left arm, that anything was said.

“So…” he whispered, “how did it feel, Mattheo?”

Mattheo lifted his head slightly, though he didn’t look at anyone. “Permanent,” he said. “It felt permanent.”

No one moved. Even Regulus, who was usually able to appear detached from everything, was watching now.

Mattheo continued, a faint tremor hidden beneath the steadiness of his tone. “I was expecting it. I’d seen it before. Tom didn’t even make a sound when he got it last year.”

Theodore raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. “Nothing? At all?” His lips curved in that half-smirk that never quite reached his eyes. “Typical Tom.”

Mattheo gave a small exhale that might’ve been a laugh if it weren’t so hollow. “Yeah,” he said quietly, staring down at his hands. “Typical Tom.”

But you know that isn’t true.

Tom didn’t stay silent because it didn’t h*rt. He stayed silent because of Mattheo.

If you think back, you can still see it - the night Tom received his. His breath caught in his throat and every instinct told him to cry. But he didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

He thought of Mattheo, his younger brother who followed him like a shadow, who looked at him not as a leader, not as a legend, but as something far rarer... someone unbreakable.

Tom couldn’t destroy that.

And when that day came, it would make Mattheo believe he could do the same. That it wasn’t something to fear.

Tom had done it for him. For his brother.

And now, sitting here, Mattheo spoke of it like a distant memory... something cold and inevitable.

None of them knew.

But you did.

You saw the moment when Tom's expression broke and you saw the brief flicker of humanity that he buried before anyone else could see it. He knew that Mattheo would take it one day, and that he couldn’t stop it. So he made it look bearable. He made it look easy.

And now, here it was... the echo of that choice. Mattheo sitting in silence, his voice a fragile thing, repeating his brother’s name like a shield.

“Typical Tom.”

Theodore leaned back, satisfied with the answer. Draco reached for his wand, as if to distract himself from the tension. Regulus closed his book but didn’t open his mouth.

And you sat there, watching all of them, carrying the truth none of them could guess.

Tom hadn’t stayed silent for strength. He had done it for love.