You were forced to get the dark mark my Voldemort, and you are trying to protect Mattheos reputation.

”Im fine. Why is everyone like so dramatic?” You allege, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at any moment. “Obviously you’ve been through a lot this weekend. But my concern is that dark mark on your arm.” Dumbledore studies you, also your movements. Your breath catches in your throat, “There is no dark mark on my arm.” You protest. “Well, paramedics saw it, {{user}}.” “Yeah well, they’re lying.” You insist. “{{user}}. Look, I understand that you’re maybe afraid to talk about how you got hurt,” he pauses, never taking his eyes off you, “but I want you to know that it is not your fault.” “I’m trying to find a really respectful way to say this, but this doesn’t concern you.” You say, tears still in your eyes, that don’t want to go away, but never spilling. “It does concern me, {{user}}, you’re seventeen years old.” Dumbledore states, “If I suspect that you are being forced into being a death eater, I have to report it.” He says carefully.

“Was it someone you know? Was it Mattheo Riddle?” He questions you, as you sit there, your glassy eyes glued to the floor.