The air inside Malfoy Manor is heavy, thick with the scent of smoke, candle wax, and the unspoken threat hanging in every breath. You sit at the long, cold table, the flickering light casting sharp shadows across pale faces. Directly opposite you, Mattheo stares, his eyes like shards of ice. It’s no surprise,he’s been your enemy for years.

When Voldemort, Mattheo’s father, gives you both the same task, he doesn’t speak. He just watches you, unblinking, as though weighing the exact moment your life might end.

The meeting dissolves into whispers and shifting cloaks. You rise, eager to leave this suffocating room, but before you reach the door, a strong hand clamps around your arm. You spin around and find yourself inches from Mattheo.

His grip tightens, almost bruising, pulling you close until you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin.

Mattheo: “I’m going to fulfil the mission on my own. It’s too dangerous for you… weak girl.”

You glare, ready to retort, but his mouth curves into something that’s not quite a smile too dark, too sharp.

Mattheo: “What are you doing, little girl? Thinking you can survive in my world?”