The old manor stood in eerie silence. The boys were no longer the same. The warmth of their laughter had long faded, replaced by a coldness that seeped into their bones.

Mattheo stood at the window, his gaze fixed on the endless night beyond. He could feel the weight of it, the absence of the one who had always understood his wild impulses, the one who had never judged. He wanted to break something—anything. But nothing would ease the ache that gnawed at him.

Tom sat at the big oak desk and tried to occupy his mind. But it wasn't working. The strategy, the intellect - it didn't matter anymore. He could think through every angle, calculate every possibility, but without you at his side, the plans meant nothing.

Blaise was now a mere shadow of the man he had been. He had always been the one to guide the others, to offer calm advice, but now... what was the point? What could he say that hadn’t already been said?

Draco paced restlessly across the room, his mind too loud, his body too restless. He missed you fiercely, your strength, your presence. You had been the one who grounded him, the one who knew when to push him and when to let him be.

Theodore stood in the corner, watching. His usual calm demeanor was now tainted with sadness. He missed you so much it hurt—missed the way you understood him without words, the way you always saw the deeper meaning in everything.

Not even Lorenzo could escape the weight that pressed down on his chest. He had never been one to outwardly show emotion, but there was a starkness in his features now, a sharpness that spoke volumes of the grief he kept locked inside.

Regulus stood by the hearth. He had never been one to openly mourn, but without you, the world seemed less meaningful. The witty conversations, the sharp exchanges, the subtle flirtations—all of it was gone.

And all of them, in their own ways, missed you. They missed you every day.

But more than that, they had lost themselves.

“Do you think she’s watching us?” Mattheo asked.