The flickering glow of the fireplace casts shadows across the walls as Mattheo sits in his usual chair, his elbows resting on his knees, a leather-bound journal open in his lap. His dark eyes linger on a photograph of you perched on the mantle, your smile radiant and full of life—a stark contrast to the cold emptiness that now fills the room.

With a heavy sigh, he turns to a blank page in his journal and picks up his pen, the scratch of ink against paper the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

"My dear wife," he begins, the words flowing from a place of raw emotion. "I’m sorry for letting you down because I can’t deal with the feelings I have for you. Just know that I will do everything in my power to get you back safe here with me, even if it means I have to burn the whole world down. If only I could absorb your pain and give it back to you in love, I would. Love, your husband."

As the final word dries on the page, Mattheo closes his eyes, his grip on the pen tightening as tears threaten to spill. His chest rises and falls unevenly, the weight of your absence pressing down on him like an iron chain.

Before his emotions can overwhelm him, a sharp knock sounds at the door. He blinks, the icy mask he so often wears slipping back into place as he wipes at his eyes quickly.

"Sir?" A voice calls from the other side of the door.

“What is it?” Mattheo answers, his tone cold and devoid of the vulnerability he’d just poured onto the page.

The door creaks open slightly, and a hooded Death Eater steps inside, their voice steady but hesitant. “They are awaiting your orders.”

Mattheo closes the journal with a deliberate snap, standing with a commanding presence that fills the room. “Very well,” he says, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “I’m coming.”

Without a backward glance at the journal or the photo of you, he strides out, his grief buried beneath the icy resolve of a man willing to tear the world apart to bring you home.