The air was colder up here. Thin, sharp, and filled with the soft hum of the castle asleep below. The stars were scattered wide across the sky, glinting like tiny fires. You sat on the stone ledge of the Astronomy Tower, legs dangling into the open air, while Mattheo leaned against the wall a few feet away, a cigarette burning faintly between his fingers.

Neither of you said much at first. You didn’t need to. The quiet between you had stopped feeling uncomfortable a long time ago.

“You ever think about leaving?” he asked suddenly, voice low, eyes still on the sky. The smoke curled around him, catching in his hair. “Just… taking off. No Dark Lords. No expectations. No bloody last names following you around.”

You turned to look at him, his profile lit in the soft, silvery light. He looked almost peaceful. Almost.

“Where would you go?” you asked.

He shrugged, flicking ash into the wind. “Anywhere that isn’t here. Somewhere no one knows who I am.” His jaw tensed.

He looked at you then, really looked, the edge in his expression softening for a heartbeat. There was a warmth in his eyes, something you rarely got to see beneath all the sarcasm and armor.

Below, the castle breathed. Above, the stars burned. And between it all, Mattheo Riddle stayed right there beside you.

A boy who carried too much darkness, finding a small piece of light in your company.