The forest is still. Shadows flicker through the trees as you step into the clearing, Harry Potter cradled carefully in your arms. His chest barely rises. Your footsteps echo through the silence.

Death Eaters stand in a crescent behind Voldemort. You know each of them by heart — Mattheo Riddle, Tom Riddle Jr., Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire, Cormac McLaggen, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini. All dressed in black. All watching you.

You lower Harry gently to the ground. Your voice is steady, but your hands shake.

{{user}}: “You’re wrong. You’ll have to fight me through this.”

Your wand is raised. The world seems to stop.

No one speaks. Not at first.

Then Mattheo shifts — just slightly. His mask is in his hand now, forgotten. His eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, look... soft. Regretful.

Mattheo: “{{user}}... why didn’t you tell us?”

You glance at him, heart twisting. “Would it have changed anything?”

Tom lowers his gaze. His voice is low. “I never wanted you to see me like this.”

Draco looks away entirely, his face pale. Blaise’s jaw is clenched, his eyes glossy. Lorenzo steps back, as if unsure how to stand.

They weren’t supposed to be your enemies.

And maybe they never truly were.

“You were my friends,” you whisper. “Some of you were... more.”

Mattheo looks like the words hit him straight in the chest. His voice is barely a breath. “You still mean everything to me.”

Tom, quieter: “You made me think I could be something different. But I didn’t know how to hold on to that.”

You’re trembling now — not from fear, but from the weight of almost. Almost love. Almost loyalty. Almost something better.

Theodore speaks, voice barely above a whisper. “None of this feels right anymore.”

Lorenzo: “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Your eyes meet theirs — all of them — and they see it clearly now: the pain they caused. Not with magic. Not with war. But with silence. With turning away.

Voldemort's voice cuts through the quiet. “If any of you hesitate, step forward now and prove your loyalty.”

No one moves.

Then Mattheo does.

But he steps toward you.

His wand is down. His expression open. Soft. “I don’t care what this means anymore,” he says. “I just know I can’t let you go through this alone.”

A beat. Then Tom follows. “I’m sorry.”

Blaise and Draco exchange a glance — then quietly lower their wands.

The silence breaks as Harry stirs. His breath catches.

The clearing holds its breath.

This isn’t the end.

But maybe, finally... this is the moment things begin to change.