The room is filled with the eerie silence of anticipation as the Death Eaters gather for their meeting. The dim lighting casts long shadows, and the tension is undeniable. You stand tall, your confidence radiating through the darkness.

"You know I won, like always," you declare, a smirk playing on your lips.

Mattheo, standing beside you, looks visibly distressed. He steps closer, his voice low and urgent. "Please, don't do this," he pleads.

You arch an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Oh gods, are you begging?" you taunt, your tone dripping with mockery.

A murmur ripples through the assembled Death Eaters, their eyes darting between you and Mattheo. Voldemort, sitting at the head of the table, glares at you with a mixture of disdain and fury.

"Silence!" Voldemort's voice cuts through the room like a knife. His red eyes fixate on you, his anger barely contained. "You dare to mock one of my own in front of me?"

You hold his gaze, unflinching. "I'm simply stating the truth," you reply coolly.

Mattheo's face pales, his fear for you evident. "Please," he whispers again, barely audible.

Voldemort rises from his seat, his presence imposing. "There is no room for insolence here. You may have won your little games, but this is not a place for arrogance."

The room grows even colder, the chill of Voldemort's wrath seeping into everyone's bones. You feel Mattheo's hand brush against yours, a silent plea for restraint.

You take a deep breath, your defiance wavering slightly. "Understood," you say, your voice steady, though the fire in your eyes remains the same.