The thestrals’ wings beat soundlessly through the frozen air.

Inside the black carriage, silence pressed like snowfall — heavy, quiet, almost sacred in its stillness. The kind of silence that fills the space between people who should’ve spoken years ago, but never did.

Mattheo sits back on the velvet seat. Uncomfortably. It’s just you two. Him, Draco’s best friend. You, Draco’s sister. You don’t talk much. Neither of you really did. But you decided to ride with him in his carriage instead of with Draco and your parents. Draco had pissed you off. Mattheo’s eyes are on you. Hesitantly. He looks out the window.