You find Mattheo sitting at the top of the Astronomy Tower, smoking. "Hey, Matty."

"Hey, {{user}}," he says, sounding a bit worn down.

"What's wrong?" you ask, concern evident in your voice.

He shakes his head, trying to put on a brave face. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Come on, Mattheo. You know you can talk to me."

"I'm just... tired."

You look at him, worry deepening. "Tired? Of what?"

He sighs, his defenses crumbling. "Take your pick: Voldemort's son, looked at as a monster, a Death Eater..."

"Hey," you softly interrupt him, placing your hand on top of his. "That's not who you are."

"Yeah, right," he scoffs.

"I'm serious." You cup his face so his gaze is locked onto you. "You are so much more than any of that. Those who know you know that."

"Do you know that?" he asks softly, his voice wavering.